It Was Nice Knowing You

NOTE: This essay was published in Philippine Daily Inquirer's "Young Blood" column in January 21, 2016. You may see the article on this LINK.

Bidding 2015 farewell...

My 2015 #bestnine photos according to Instagram

Your presence was marked with pleasant surprises, unexpected visitors, failed attempts, and difficult experiences.

You made yourself clear right from the start: you entered my life to fill it with so much passion and adventure.

You were the essay that voiced out its disappointment about the short-lived visit of Pope Francis in Leyte. You knew that you were not pleasing but you insisted. Your honesty was antagonized by readers who told you to just be grateful, at the least.

You were the amateur one-act plays submitted to a local theater festival. You delivered my Easter Sunday surprise when you accepted my play “The Wedding Planners” in the stage reading category of Virgin Labfest 11. You allowed me to work with theater artists that I admire and you introduced us on my 24^th birthday. Clearly, you could not have chosen a better timing!

You frequently caused traffic jams to inspire me with additional scenes and dialogues to satisfy my director’s request for more depth to the characters. You were the joke that I added a few hours before the show and I thank God because the audience laughed out loud at you.

You were my loyal travel buddy when I went backpacking in four Southeast Asian countries. You proved that indeed one knows thyself, and others, from travelling alone.

You were the extremely hot Cambodia, affordable and busy Vietnam, culturally intact Thailand, and laid-back Malaysia.

You walked with me through Siem Reap, and Phnom Penh, Cambodia as the atheist British student who believed that your parents’ divorce was the best thing that happened to your family. You were the female Malaysian Muslim who told your parents you were just staying at a friend’s house, not backpacking abroad, to secure their permission. You were the New York banker who resigned from your job and travelled around Southeast Asia for months. You were the Theravada Buddhism student who travelled with your best friend from China who studies Mahayana Buddhism. I did not tell you this but I think you two were having an affair because of your intimacy and by the looks of your smartphone theme (pink and flowery).

You were the Taiwanese businessman who gave me a drink as we waited for the rain to stop in the busy tourist district of Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam. It made me sad to know that your girlfriend left you because she cannot help you take care of your sick mother. I sincerely wish you happiness and good luck. You were also the tour operator who I kissed under the influence of alcohol, with no regrets. Putting aside my emotions, that move guaranteed me cheaper tour fees and higher exchange rates. Rest assured that I admired your sweetness and care.

You accommodated my short trip in Bangkok, Thailand as the tour guide who aggressively sold us tamarind. You left me and my colleagues divided with regard to your gender identity. Let me tell you that you were not the only one who confused us during our stay. You were also the Red Light District performers who inserted and pulled out every (un)imaginable prop to your genitals. You were nonetheless entertaining.

You patiently stayed with me in a weeklong retreat in Sabah, Malaysia. You were the British engineer who thought that everyone cares about the Royal Family in England except its own people. You also pitied Queen Elizabeth for “not having a normal, casual conversation throughout her reign so she must have been bored for more than 60 years now.” You were the Muslim engineer who will get married in May to your high school girlfriend because your parents are pressuring you. I hope that unlike what you think, your fiancée will allow you to travel alone.

 

You were the Filipina raised as a Catholic but converted to Islam because you saw the inherent beauty of the religion. You were also the undocumented Filipina Muslim whose life is confined between selling merchandise in the City Mosque and staying inside your safe house. I seek Allah’s guidance to give you wisdom in creating a new life in Sabah, given that you are eager to marry a local. I hope that things get better from there.

You also taught me valuable lessons by not taking the human form. You were the strong rain that made descending Mt. Ayaas’ dangerous. You inspired me to see beauty through countless art works and forms within eight local and foreign museums. You allowed me to surprise myself, my classmates and mentor during my writing boot camp with Jessica Zafra. You convinced me that if I were to have my first formal training in writing, it had better be under her. You reminded me that my talent needs constant practice and if I want to be an effective writer, I need to write more, observe often, and speak less.

While you gave me a lot reasons to be thankful for, you were also a pain in the ass in some occasions. You were the all-knowing client that I wish I never met; the boring account that I wish was more open to risks; the bus driver who injured my wrist when you suddenly closed the door as I stepped inside; and the unexplainable occasional pain in my stomach and chest.

You were the fear that crippled me from submitting entries to two writing competitions because you told me I lack the experience and drive. You were the work tasks that I cowardly executed because you demanded a lot. You were the recurring anxiety that caused me to eat late, sleep for few hours, and exercise less.

You were countless of Facebook ‘friends’ that I deleted because you were negative, cynical, or plainly unfamiliar.

You were the person I regretted calling because you were no longer interested to talk to me. After some time I redeemed myself and seen-zoned you on Messenger because I already lost my interest too.

Looking back, I just want to focus on the bright side of knowing you.

You fuelled my imagination, creativity and passion through 47 movies and 11 full-length theater plays that I watched, and 15 books and three screenplays that I read. You also gave me much pleasure from drawing portraits.

You were the countless punch lines that made me laugh out loud while hanging out with my high school and college friends and officemates.

Being with you gave me a lot of ups and downs. I’m sure I will encounter you again this year perhaps in another person, place or situation. I hope that when that day comes, we can reconnect like old friends. I will probably tell you how I noticed that “times have changed” and hope you can end with, “so have you.”