Passion comes in different voices.
She spoke with so much enthusiasm; you would think she had been told she has for more than a century here. She spoke of people with a certain level of pride which I found baffling.
Her eyes fluttered with joy as she mentioned all the places she had been to and the people she had met along the way. “Not many places,” I thought to myself, “not unfamiliar places”.
These were neighbouring towns, the same ones I breeze in and out of with no thought of adventure. She smiled, nodding as I spoke about my experiences, half of which I had deemed stressful.
“How could you not enjoy travelling?” She asked. “I do” I assured her, “in fact, it is my dream to travel the world someday.”
“Me too,” she exclaimed “but in the meantime, I enjoy what I can afford, there are always amazing people on the bus. I rarely bother about where I would sleep because I’m sure that I would meet a friend on the bus.”
“You’d do that? you would follow a stranger home?” I asked deeply astonished. Was I the only one whose mother had warned against talking to strangers especially in this part of the world?
“No,” she playfully exclaimed as though she had read my mind. “people are generally good and reliable; you’d be shocked at what a perfect stranger could do for you. The secret is to be willing to serve first. You know, say the first hello, extend help where necessary and initiate a conversation. Honestly, when you strike up a meaningful conversation, you can instantly tell who a person is, it doesn’t hide very long.”
“A true citizen of the world,” I thought to myself. There was little doubt that her story was true, for she herself had approached me first. I can’t quite recall how we became acquainted. Bottom-line is, whatever she does she’s an expert in it because in that moment if she had asked for my help, I could have assisted in any way I could without thinking twice about it.
It didn’t have a label but there was just something about her that made her seem genuine and truthful. Perhaps it was how sincere and warm her eyes looked when she talked and her willingness to serve first.
She told me that if you’re authentic, genuinely kind and adventurous, it’d hardly fail and she had proof.
He’s simply a regular young man in his early 20s seeking for a better future except he is driven by a degree of passion that makes me wonder if I truly understand passion.
He would come early, in the rain, under the scourging sun, late at night and even leave town in an instant if he had too. It didn’t matter to him, all that mattered was the welfare of his dogs. Yes, dogs! Regular dogs that honestly means very little in this part of the world.
“What is it about dogs that makes you tick,” I asked completely dazzled. “I just love them,” he blurted. “They are fragile yet protective and extremely loyal.”
He devotes his time to training and tending to the dogs in the locality, but he would go as far as travelling to another state in an instant just to check on the state of a dog if the need arose. Even though he doesn’t get paid very much for the amount of time and energy he puts and I can tell he’d willingly do it for absolutely no fee.
He hasn’t any formal education in cynology, everything he knows is a diverse mix of intuition, experience and information from the internet. It is his dream to travel someday and get a proper education and become a certified cynologist and perhaps build a state of the art facility where he would tend to dogs, providing them with only the best care.
He always smiles. Once, I noticed a frown, I probed. He went on to recount an unjust act that had recently happened at the local vet he previously worked at. Apparently, his devotion to dogs had made dog owners readily request for his services outside his usual office hours for which he got more money. Naturally, his colleagues and managers didn’t take the preference too well.
When he had refused to share a portion of his income earned from his extra hours equally with his boss, he was labelled unfit to work and asked to leave. His name was sent to the entire customer database, warning them to stay away from him as he no longer worked for them. But the reverse happened, instead, his clients, at least most left the veterinary and solicited for his private services. They’d rather have him around than a certified veterinarian.
With a smile, he said, “passion is a mysterious thing, it has a way of opening doors.” To which I responded, “it’s rare to see someone so dedicated to something that seems so uncertain, but with the drive you have, I’m certain that you’re going to find what you are looking for if you don’t give up.” He laughed, then looked at me intensely and blurted, “I don’t know how to stop, even if I tried. This is what I’m built for.”
Passion has different voices.