A Fragment of Friendship

The other day I met up with high school friends, to play ultimate--the one that requires a disk and two competing teams--and to catch up with the changes in our lives as well. Under the beastly heat of the sun, we were tossing out the frisbee disk, while laughing at and reminiscing our memories as best buddies for years. It's been a long time since we've been together; the last time, as far as I remember, was last December, when we had our annual gathering as a batch, in a friend's family-owned resto-bar here in the province.

Despite the threat of sunburn and skin cancer, nothing hindered us to transport ourselves to what the province folks call the Oval, an unused, huge plot of land which has been a play area for children who live nearby, or a temporary parking lot for cars, buses, or tricycles. So, we were there, I and eight of my friends, trying to convince ourselves that we were still the young and rural denizens that we are, albeit the years that we spent studying in Manila.

At first, there was a certain kind of apprehension that separated us for a minute or two. Then, after some icebreakers, an explosion of personal narratives--ranging from the convoluted city that we have tentatively left up to our own bucolic selves--came up, like babel of sounds reverberating on air. And there was instant joy among us, as if the months of being away were dispelled that fast, as if 'metropolitan transformations' went back to their own default settings--back to the old 'probinsyano people' that, in nature, we truly are.

In a tick of a second, a sea of gossips flooded us. Like traditional rumor-mongers, we shared our own discoveries and details about some latest things, about several people, about the recent events that have transpired in our lives. As expected, everyone delighted themselves with each bit of scuttlebutt. For every rumor, each one was given the privilege to rejoin, to add up new details (yes, we've gone this crazy--and bad?), and to disprove and prove every single point. And we zeroed in everything on just two emotions: laughter for the gross, shocking, and stupefying, while sympathy for those that weighed down our spirits.

It is these kinds of meet-ups that I treasure most, really. These spur of the moment gatherings, I just recently realize, are the ones that really make a mark on me. Maybe it's the instantaneous emotion, that rush, that gives me the pleasure. Or perhaps, it's the casualness of it: that no one requires me to be dressed up in my most formal attire just to look good in the eyes of people, or to bring a fancy amount of money just to make the event successful and grand. If there's anything that I miss the most in the province, apart from my family and friends, it is the simplicity of everything, the looseness of life. And I guess, everyone deserves such kind of life, even just for once, even just during the summer break.

My friends and I ended up at one of our favorite places to hang-out--McDonalds! Over cups of caramel and chocolate sundaes, heaps of fries, and buns of burgers, we continued our crisp and biting laughs and jeers, as heavier gossips were revealed, new romances--either inside or outside our batch--were supported and mocked, fresh lessons in life were shared, and some expectations for the future were delivered (a friend even expressed his excitement for his sex education class this coming semester. Yay!).

While there were still a lot of matters that could be discussed (Sayang! If only we could be naughtier and heartless against people, and if only the bearers of tsismis would just spill the beans Tsk. Tsk.), we decided to call a day a day. Outside McDo, the wetness of the street and smell of damp earth welcomed us. It just rained, and we even haven't noticed that it did. Finally, we gave our final kisses and embraces, and exchanged promises for another meet-up, either here in Santiago or in Manila.

A friend was good enough to give me and several friends a lift. Inside the car, everyone was silent; maybe overwhelmed. Within me was an unexplainable happiness, an indescribable nostalgia. The feeling that something in the circle has been nurtured throughout the years of friendship, that even time and space weren't able to change whatever we have. And for me, as I stepped out the car, as I have given my sweetest goodbyes and thank yous, I have realized that what happened was an extremely special fragment of our friendship. In that day, in that hour, in those fleeting seconds, yes, something special was shared.