Taxi Cab Confessional.
I miss talking to cabbies. I always loved getting the opinions and insights of the cabbies who drove me around, and living in China has meant that my stuttering Mandarin gets deployed on the cabbies unfortunate enough to find this Aussie muppet in their front seat (ALWAYS THE FRONT SEAT).
Tonight was no different. I decided an early night was the right tactic, and after a fantastic meal shared with new friends, I hailed a cab and headed for home. My cabbie's English was about the same standard as my Chinese, which is to say sweet fuck all. But he offered me a cigarette, and we moved toward home through the lights and leaves of the French Concession.
We passed roadworks, at 11pm on a Saturday. We saw couples fighting on the street, and lovers passionately embraced. We saw a man walking a monkey, and an old man slowly wandering past, resting on his walking cane. We giggled at other drivers, and yelled at the poor behaviour of other taxis. We spent roughly 10 minutes together, and we chatted away, mainly oblivious to the fact that we could barely converse. We had a laugh, we sat in silence. It was a welcome reminder of why living in China is so fucking fantastic.
At the end of the trip, he patted my leg and said with a broad grin 'Everything will be OK', apropos of nothing. We had not spoken about anything to trigger this, he simply said it because it was a phrase he knew in English. And he was right. It will be OK. It's hard now, but it will get better, and what is meant to be will be. I'm lucky to have the life I do, and I need to start getting on with living life as it is. You can't control everything, and you shouldn't try to: it only puts pressure on things. So onwards, upwards and into the future, whatever that holds.