“Manila, here I come!”

             Staring at the clear blue sky overhead the green tall trees, I daydream of the big university in the big city and the adult and independent life. I join the chats and chuckles of my girl friends about how wonderful and exciting college will be while waiting for that ever familiar ring of our school bell. I untiringly talk about my plans to my supportive parents and my hardly attentive sister. I eagerly answer any question regarding my future and my replies carry tones of certainty and carefreeness.

           

            “Puwera bisita, puwera bisita.” The familiar call that ships send through its dusty speakers announces its near departure. I and my mother look down to the port where the familiar figures of my tubby father, my lean sister, and my adorable baby brother stay fixed. However, their faces express unfamiliar sadness to my admittedly shocked heart. I grip my mother’s shoulders, look into her eyes and ask if I could bear the distance.

            “Calling passengers of Cebu Pacific flight 518J bound for Manila. Boarding is at gate 4.” I and my mother enter the plane and search our seats through the familiar dull cushioned seats, thick carpeted aisle and stale scent of the aircon. We try to comfortably fixate ourselves to the narrow seats and enclosed space made to look comfy and light by beautiful stewards and stewardesses. Suddenly, I feel nostalgia growing inside myself as I were about to leave Visayan ground. I touched my mother’s hand, look into her eyes and ask if I could take the change.

“Nauuhaw ako. Gusto ko ng maginaw na tubig.” Laughter breaks the serious atmosphere. It is certainly an embarrassing moment. Who could blame a Boholana for making such mistake? Hearing tagalog words everywhere is familiar to my ears. It is not like I am ignorant of such language. I hear it on TV and during Filipino classes. However, it is not enough that you know the Filipino language. You should be spontaneous in it. This spontaneity is unfamiliar to my speech. I feel alienated surrounded by words I know but enable to respond to. I feel alienated surrounded by humans who seemingly aren’t. The familiar language. The familiar crowd. The unfamiliar inability. The unfamiliar culture. No more mother to clutch but still I ask if I could survive in this new world.

            “Magbasa muna kayo ng rental law!” Tension grows in the middle of the street where the confrontation is happening. Tears fall. Voices rise. Finger points. Nothing seems familiar. I am just 17 years old. This is my first time to be away—to be in Manila. Same situation with my housemates. We are victims of fraud. Ten teenagers and a house help. Ten sisters and a mother. Unfamiliarity overshadows my perception of a beautiful and easy world. New words arrived at my ears, comprehended by my mind. Blotter. Sign documents. Within three months. Payments. I have no mother’s hand to touch but I got ten pairs to hold. I ask no more. Asking is useless. Blaming is more appropriate. The blame goes to none other than…ME. If I just didn’t choose this place and this school. If I just didn’t allow myself to be deceived. Was I just too ignorant? Was I just too overwhelmed? Pathetic Boholana teenager.       

           

            “I am not happy anymore.” Seems like a break-up line, isn’t it? But it isn’t a romantic kind of break-up, it is an academic one. I just realized that the path that was so clear when I was daydreaming during that clear day was gone. I can’t see it anymore. I seem confused and unsure. I feel that continuing education and life in this place won’t lead me to that path, won’t help me find that path, won’t help in focusing myself again. Everything is just hazy. However, one thing is certain. I am not happy. “Papa, Mama, gusto ko mobalhin (I like to transfer).” “Anak ka namo. Di mi masuko. Ok ra namo ug asa ka gusto. (You are our daughter so we won’t get angry. It’s fine with us since you want it.)” Their words grip and touch my heart. I look into myself and ask if I can start college the second time around. I have to start from the beginning since I am not taking minor subjects at present. I could if I would. Movie shooting even does twenty takes to perfect a scene. I should be thankful I am just having two takes.

           

            “P’rung, it’s like, I’m going to Katips because you know.” Going through freshman the second time around is difficult since the culture is different from what the already unfamiliar one in Las Pinas had. I have to only adjust to all of this. Well, easily said than done. But somehow I managed adjusting but retaining the Boholana person I was and will be. It is somehow manageable by recognizing the always unfamiliar culture but familiar world. It is already familiar because I learned from what I experienced in my previous school that the world is uncertain, absolutely not beautiful, changes people to be gripped, makes asking unavoidable.

            “Reality Check.” Daydreaming doesn’t do anything good since it leads you to be idealistic—to think of things as if you are in a fairytale. Studying in Manila will bring you far away from the clear blue sky overhead green tall trees so enjoy it now while it lasts. Once you step on university ground, things will never be the same again. Expect good education under a sea of dark smoke, hot air, and noise. The culture is alien. Don’t repress it nor force it to your system. Just flow with the unfamiliarity. Accept the fact that life is a not-so-pretty-and-awesome one here not only because you are far from home but also because the real world Manila offers you hide deception, danger, and ugliness somewhere. Most importantly, don’t be overwhelmed with the unfamiliarity that will welcome you. Stay focused. This will not only accomplish your mission but also will temporarily drive nostalgia away.

            “Calling passengers of flight C-O-L-L-E-G-E bound for Manila, board with your dreams. Plane is departing in two months.”