Fever Dream Part 2: Oh the People You'll Meet (continued)
Hold on to your sentimental hearts for this thought: I wholeheartedly believe that everyone brings something to the table. Chalk it up to island vibes and/or toxic positivity, but I continually found something to like about everyone I met in Galveston. In this section, I will highlight four individuals I’ve met during my journey down south. Below are the last two individuals. Grab your tissues and hold onto your hearts.
The Bus Driver
I didn’t formally meet the evening bus driver until the third day of the program. On the first evening, I went home with my program friends. On the second evening, if you recall, I missed the bus. When I finally met him on the third evening, I was struck by the resemblance the bus driver shared with Chris Farley's character in Billy Madison. More specifically, he looked like what would be the love child of Chris Farley and a gruff motorcyclist. He wore a red bandana over his head and paired his white tank top with baggy jeans that had a chain hanging from one pant loop to the other.
I remember walking up to where he was sitting on the curb next to his bus with the intention to clarify departure times to avoid missing the bus again. Patchy and red, his was sunburnt from the sweltering island heat. While his eyes were hidden by large black sunglasses, his frown was enough to feel slightly intimidated talking to him. I did, however, feel less intimidated when mid-conversation I watched as he rocked and back forth on the curb, hoisting his loose pants while struggling to stand up. Unfortunately for me, he mistook me to be one of the students who gave clearance to haphazardly leave campus early the day before--and as a result, was reprimanded by different program directors. Realizing I wouldn’t get a chance to clear things up, I took the blame and let him share his take on how things went down. Eventually, he gruffly accepted my apology, giving me firsthand experience on how to de-escalate a tense situation.
From that day forward, the quirks of the bus driver unfolded. Each evening ride often started with a story. His wild stories were always accompanied by a raspy, phlegmy, maniacal laugh. He always opted to overshare regardless of whether it was his crude opinions about someone's appearance on the street, or details about his personal life.
The bus driver drove a small bus out of personal preference, sharing how it helped him hear our conversations better. So he was honest to a fault. He was also the most reckless driver of a small bus. Every ride was speedy and bumpy–I’m pretty sure every bus ride was well above the local speed limit. Oftentimes, we walked off the bus with queasy stomachs. From the bus window, I liked to watch how other drivers were reacting to his erratic and speedy maneuvers on the road. My favorite reaction, and quite a common one, was when drivers adjacent to the bus would stare in shock with their mouth partially open as the bus sped away, continuing to cut corners and swerve side to side. Their momentary reactions validated the wild bus experience we were all having.
When the bus driver took over the morning shift halfway into the program, our mornings went from a quiet bus ride through the island neighborhoods to mornings filled with heavy metal music and the occasional Freddy Mercury. One day, he stopped the music to point in the direction of the Gulf Coast, and shared that if we were ever caught in a current, to move side to side or risk drowning if we moved back and forth. There have already been too many drownings this year, I just want you to stay informed, he said. Now if discussing the Galveston death count isn’t a way to jump start your morning, I don’t know what is.
His cooky commentary often contained brief remarks in passing about how he respected our goals in medicine, wanted us to keep working hard and try to help us in any way that he could. Of course, you’d question if you really heard that because these quips happened randomly and were promptly followed by more outrageous remarks.
On the last bus ride, I put my earbuds in, choosing to ignore the impending morning rant. Much to the shock of everyone on the bus, that morning ended up being the most sane conversation we had with the bus driver. Recognizing this was his last ride with us, he doled out a handful of life advice. One of the best pieces of advice he gave was to pursue our education and do what we want to do in our lives on our own terms before getting married. He said that when you settle down, your life is no longer about your own ambitions and goals, it also becomes about your spouse’s or kid's, and it's better to pursue your own goals for as long as you can. He then spoke at length about how he had been taking law classes and how he had recently challenged a lawyer during cross-questioning enough to “zip him up.” For the record, we still have little context as to what he was talking about toward the end of the ride, but the life advice was well received.
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The Right Guy at the Right Time
If you’ve read Fever Dream Part 1, then you’ll remember that I missed the bus to campus on the second day of the program…and then again in the evening…while also spilling my coffee. The person I shared an Uber ride with in the morning was the Right Guy at the Right Time, who was part of a different summer program at The University of Texas Medical Branch (UTMB). From the first time I spoke to Right Guy, I was surprised by how comfortable I felt around him and how easy our conversation was. We continued to interact every so often for the duration of the program, and whenever we did, we always seemed to catch each other at the right time–hence, the apt alias, Right Guy at the Right Time.
Right Guy is part of one of my favorite memories in Galveston. One afternoon, I hunkered down in front of the Moody Library to work on my research project until the evening bus arrived. As luck would have it, Right Guy walked up to say hello while waiting for his Uber ride. I readily agreed to share the Uber when he offered, knowing that my plan to stay outside in the sweltering island heat was touch-and-go for my sanity.
We spent the Uber ride going over the progress we’d made on our respective projects, and yet again, our conversation was effortless–it helped that I found his research genuinely interesting. In an impromptu decision later that evening, I decided to watch the newly released film Nope at the Premiere Cinema. Right Guy agreed to join despite the short notice. After watching the movie, we started a conversation while walking along Seawall Boulevard that would continue late into the night while sitting on the steps of my dorm house.
The night was rich with conversation, ranging from stories about our different backgrounds and being kids of immigrants to conceptualizing dimensions beyond the third. If we keep honesty off the table, I took the lead on the physics discussion, because it’s my favorite subject and a lot of people don’t know there are like six seven ten eleven dimensions that exist; of which, we can only perceive the first three.
Bringing honesty back on the table, to a point that you may cringe: this was probably one of the most romantic nights I’ve ever experienced as of yet. There’s no other word that best encapsulates that night, but romantic. I think it’s mostly due to the presence of many things I love which give me butterflies on their own: getting to walk around at night and take in the view, enjoy the weather, and lounge around. I don’t think I’ll forget the ease and contentment of that night for a long time.
Over the past few years, I’ve taken time to value and respect myself more, and in doing so, I’ve recognized that how I want to be treated is more important to me than my tolerance of how I’m treated. I’ve chosen to highlight Right Guy because he validated this recognition; there was always mutual respect and reciprocated warmth in our interactions. On top of that, this was not an experience I planned for while preparing to come to Galveston. This was a pleasant surprise. Lastly, but most importantly, Right Guy made me realize how much I wanted to continue to appreciate science in a way we both do, intertwining the connection between science and math with a greater appreciation for life.
The last day on the island was a reminder that he was the right guy at the right time for the time I spent in Galveston. We were off sync that day amid the hustle and bustle of packing and sharing our last hurrahs with friends before we left. It was hard to get time to hang out and chat so fluidly as before, but perhaps this was a good thing. Everyone from the two UTMB programs had come from all over the country–therefore, it was unlikely that I’d ever see any of them again, including Right Guy. With this in mind, I felt that perhaps our connection had run its course. And yet, I was okay with the reality of the situation because I got more out of it than I ever expected to.
Right Guy at the Right Time is like the paragraph in a book that you reread sometimes because it’s so well written and enjoyable to relive.
All in all, if I had to equate Right Guy with a song, it would be Tum Se Hi from the film Jab We Met. For non-Hindi speakers, this song is about appreciating the experience of having encountered someone who inspired you or evoked something out of you; who, as the song implies, may not be a permanent fixture in your life moving forward, but has still been a pivotal one. Na hai ye paana, na hi hai khona. Tera na hona jaane kyun hona hi hai. ~ Neither is this a gain nor a loss. You’re not here, but your presence still is. (Please note that my emotions toward him are not as dramatic or intense as the lyrics imply, there’s just a similar flavor. I definitely didn’t fall in love in those two months. But did those moments have all the fixings for love? Hell yeah, which is precisely why I got the hell out of Galveston the second I got a chance…at 3:00 am in the morning because that’s how my flight schedule worked out).
Until next time...
(1) This is a discussion for another time, but Nope was an intriguing slow burn about UFOs written and directed by Jordan Peele–and it was an awesome movie theater experience.
(2) I should probably say this story is brought to you by Uber because Uber had my back throughout the whole trip–when it came to a) cost, b) efficiency from the time between being assigned a driver and picked up, and c) reliability for an impromptu booking at 3:00 am to get to the Houston airport, when an unspecified rival app fell through despite advanced booking. I may consider re-titling this, The Right Driving App at the Right Time in the future.
(3) If it was just me going to the theater and walking around at night before retiring to the front steps of my dorm house to take in the view (and if I were guaranteed personal safety as a woman alone at night), I would still classify this experience as romantic. There’s just something romantic about enjoying the weather at night.
(4) Lastly, I recognize that I dragged the last story out longer than I needed to, but I had to simply because the writer in me felt there was a story here worth romanticizing. What do you want me to talk about? Missing the bus a third time? There’s no way I’m doing that for a story...Thank you for enjoying what I’ve shared so far.
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