I always love the rain. I've been loving it ever since I was little.
I have a fuzzy memory about how the big glass window in my parents' living room used to be covered with drops of splattered rain water during a pouring afternoon. I remember it as a cloudy, magical moment. I was not even in school yet.
These couple of weeks, it's been raining in jakarta. Usually it rains down in the afternoon or sometimes during lunch. When it rained really hard we just "ooh and "aahs" until the rain finally died or quiet down.
Other thing that I love about rain is the smell that you get just when it starts. I think it's the smell of the ground that is embraced by the water.. the smell of lengthy longing that's finally been filled.. inspirations that's finally freed..
One day of last week (I've been trying to blog this but somehow work always took over), I went home from the office in a thundery night, and just half way to the main road, rain poured down really thick. I didn't bring my umbrella, so I just kept walking. And it happened that I managed to do rocery shopping during lunch and was balancing two plastic bags of groceries, the rain fell down on me.
so I just kept walking, hoping to reach main road soon, and find a taxi quickly. Then out of the darkness of the lightless street, a man with a bike showed up. And he was holding a big umbrella in one hand, while the otherh steering the bicycle. He offered to cover me to main road, and urged me to put the groceries on the basket attached to the front of his bike.
I recognize him as one of the men who used to gather and sit in front of warung next to my office. Actually I was a little afraid of him, because 1) he looked like a kind of men who would shout at you and whistle when girls pass by 2) i'm just paranoid and as we know already, me and my negative thoughts! 3) it's already late at night and my mind wouldn't stop repeating memory of criminals happened around senopati area.
But still I felt terribly rude if I turned down his offer, so I walked down with him and his bike, and then he held the umbrella for me and him for probably half an hour before a taxi finally stopped in front of us. It felt like forever. I was ready if he was going to throw some naughty questions or some sorts of flirt, but no. He was elderly, so maybe I only reminded me of somewhat his niece.
The moral of the story is there's still some good people in the world. How pessimistic my thoughts are, still there are people who care about other people. And that's not because the other people have something that they want. It's not about getting things in return. I really believe in it.
And to have this experience in the city like Jakarta is really something. Otherwise, people like me will lose faith. We'll just stick to the sceptics that we already are.
