The aftermath of a 6 day chess tournament is never pretty. I was slumped in the seat, waiting
for the plane to take off. It was a 2 hour flight to Bangkok from Kuala Lumpur.
I had made the rather stupid decision to take two flights: one from Johor Bahru to Kuala Lumpur, then another from Kuala Lumpur to Bangkok, what I didn’t realize was that Johor was right on the border of Singapore (which is a tiny island), so I could’ve just taken a car to Singapore’s international airport: Changi, then a flight from there to Bangkok – but I guess you learn from your mistakes.
This was my second flight of the day. Upon departing the hotel at 4:30AM, I missed my first flight (they had rescheduled it), and had to book a new one. After flying to Kuala Lumpur, I spent 3 hours in KLIA (Kuala Lumpur international airport), waiting for the last flight to Bangkok.
But finally, I was going home.
A woman was sitting next to me, I had noticed that she was the mother of a family, they were split up, the father and the two daughters were sitting on the other side of the aisle, and the mother was stuck on the right side with me.
I had noticed the family before when boarding the plane as they spoke with distinct American accents - you tend to notice such things when you’re in any country that’s not the
United States.
I took out my iPad and began going over variations in my favorite openings. The mother took notice:
“You play?” she asked in a friendly manner. I answered "yes," in my usual monotone voice.
“My daughter plays too” she said, gesturing towards her daughter sitting on the other side of
the aisle.
“Really?”
“Yes, she plays with me.”
Then I asked her whether her daughter had a FIDE rating.
“What’s that?”
“A World Chess Federation rating”
“No, she doesn’t, do you?”
“Yes”
“Hey Tina, he plays chess!”
The daughter’s head popped out from behind her sister and uttered an enthusiastic: “Really!?”
“Yeah, he’s ranked by the world chess federation!”
They then engaged in the usual familial rapport about whether to switch seats, there was some scuffling, but then before I knew it the daughter was sitting next to me.
“So you play chess?” she asked.
“Yeah, competitively” I said tiredly.
We ended up playing several games on the iPad. She was a beginner, so whenever she made a serious error I would let her take it back and suggest to her that she had a better move. During our last game I let her take back almost every move until the point where I was losing, so I stopped letting her take back moves after that.
After we stopped playing, she asked me: “Do you remember the first flight you took?”
Seeing as the current one was my seventeenth flight of the year, I was rather confused, “No, I must have been… one or something, how about you?”
“Yeah, this year!”
I was shocked, then asked how she got around before.
With a smile, “we…just drove.”
Then I asked her if she had ever been to any other countries. She said this was the first time she'd been out of the United States. She told me that in their layover in Japan, she was shocked by how the signs were in a different language.
They were from Fort Wayne, Indiana. Coincidentally, my American relatives were from Indiana as well, specifically North Manchester, which I later found out to be only 56 Kilometers or so from Fort Wayne.
We discussed many things - she was in her last year of high school, and had been accepted to Purdue University, where she would be studying biomedical engineering.
It was enlightening to see the differences in our lives: she spent her summers working at a “place where they make satellites,” and said that all the money that she made went back to her family to support her. In contrast, I spent my summers traveling to Europe and relaxing at home.
I asked her why her family was travelling to Asia all of a sudden, she said it was to visit her father’s relatives in Singapore.
“Why are you going to Thailand?”
“My mother used to live there, also my step sister lives in Pattaya”
I was even more amazed, since Pattaya was like my second home.
“You’ll… find it interesting” I said, not eager to tell her about the numerous Go-go bars and prostitutes that were characteristic of Pattaya.
As I was amazed that she’d never flown before, she was amazed that I’d never had a job.
“Things are different in Thailand” I told her, then went on to explain about how the pay was astronomically low and that the social stratum was vastly more defined than in the United States.
It was an enlightening conversation. I could not have expected meeting such a person on a flight between Kuala Lumpur and Bangkok.
As the landing gear began to come out, she asked her mother what the sound was.
As the cabin rumbled and shook as the wheels met the tarmac - she closed her eyes and appeared visibly anxious, a humorous contrast to me, who was still speaking with her casually.
As the seat belt sign switched off and we began to retrieve our bags from the overhead compartments, I asked her what her name was:
“Tina.”
“Matthew,” I said as I shook her hand. “If you ever want to play chess online, there’s a website called chess.com, you can get an account for free, my username is sco-ish.”
“What is it?”
“sco-ish, S, C, O, hyphen, I, S, H”
She nodded enthusiastically.
I last saw her on the walkway standing with her father and sister, waiting for the mother presumably. I waved at her: “Bye Tina.”
“Bye!” she said.
It wasn’t until many weeks later that I came to deeply regret not exchanging more details. In a world where it is so easy to connect with people, it was a mistake not to at least get an E-Mail or Facebook, or even a surname, and all she had from me was my chess.com username.
What are the chances I would end up sitting with her? Had her mother decided not to move, had I been smarter and booked a direct flight from Singapore to Bangkok, had I decided to book a different time or a different seat, had I decided not to play in that chess tournament in Malaysia, had my university not been one of the few ones to start winter break early (Nov 17), had she not played chess, had she not at that specific time been travelling out of the country for the first time in her life - seven chances to lead to this meeting.
Maybe I’m just over-dramatizing things, I’ve always been a sucker for those melancholic moments in life.
But Tina, if you’re out there and see this, then perhaps we can meet again – here’s to those exceptionally rare moments in life when we meet such great people by pure chance.
P.S. I hope you get that chess.com account!