My Superman Cape

My confidence is abundant in very few areas. But when a moment comes to reassure someone, to make them feel heard, understood and looked-out for, I’m not just confident, I’m Superman.

Watching from the restaurant table, I knew. I knew exactly what was happening to the man who’d caught my eye across the street, because it had happened to me. Kho San Road was alive in its usual manner of fragrant chaos and neon lights, an attack on the senses. I knew this lone man was a newcomer and that Bangkok was taking effect. He was having his moment, just like I’d had. The What The Fuck Have I Done? moment. I was 25 and had left behind the comfort and ease of western society for reasons only my gut knew the language to explain. Spotting a moment of need in an environment like this one was like finding a diamond in a heap of coal. “What’s up, Konrad?” My friend Rachel asked, noticing my distraction. “I’m worried about that lad over there.” I pointed to where he sat. Perched on an upturned crate, unseen by the dazzled tourists and touters, he was hunched over, head in his hands, looking a bit frightened. “He’s probably just hammered. Leave him.” Kay said dismissively. Never assume, I remembered an old tutor telling me. “Even so, I can’t leave him on his own like that.” I pictured him as my nephew, my younger brother, or even my own son, and how I’d have hated every person who didn’t stop to help him. “I’ll come over with you.” Rachel said as we left the table and crossed the road.

“Excuse me.” I touched his shoulder gently, hoping he understood English. He looked up, slightly startled, his sleepless eyes met mine. “Are you alright?” I asked him. He nodded politely, but this quickly morphed to a head shake. “Have you just arrived here?” Rachel asked. He nodded. Rachel and I exchanged a knowing glance.

“Are you feeling a bit bewildered or scared or something?” I asked him. “I dunno, mate.” To my delight, he was a UK northerner like me. I instantly wanted to hug him and feed him soup. “I landed earlier,” he continued, his voice thick with sadness, “I finished with my girlfriend three nights ago and all of sudden…I’m in this place.”

Another knowing glance.

His name was Kyle, he was 28, from Manchester, and had quit his job at a gym to travel, evolve and mend his broken heart.

“Well, Kyle,” I said. Feeling as wise as Yoda, I grabbed a crate of my own and sat beside him. “You’ve done the scariest bit. You’ve said your goodbyes, you’ve boarded a plane, and left it all behind, and now you’re here.”

“Just like us.” Rachel knelt down and wrapped a loving arm around his shoulders. Kyle was in the middle of us.

“I know you’re feeling rotten right now,” I told him, “But I promise, Kyle, you’ve started the best adventure you will ever go on. And very soon, you’ll be speaking to someone who is feeling the way you are right now. This is normal, what you’re feeling. We felt like this too.”

“I feel like I’ve made a mistake.” He sobbed.

“You haven’t.” Rachel smiled, eyes shining with empathy and certainty. “You’d have known this was a mistake way before your journey, otherwise.”

“You won’t feel like this tomorrow, Kyle. Right now, you’re jet lagged and overwhelmed, I promise you’ll wake up tomorrow and this feeling will be practically non-existent.” I explained.

“You’re gonna love this place. And this place will love you back.” Rachel said. "Give it a chance."

For a few seconds, the three of us sat together. Kyle was bookended by the very thing he needed; a moment’s love, care and encouragement from two strangers. Despite being buried in the stifling blur of wild drunkenness, sizzling woks, and deafening club anthems, that moment happened for Kyle. And I’m glad I was the one who brought it to him.

Wherever you are, Kyle, I hope it all worked out. Thanks for letting me wear my Superman cape.