One Crazy Afternoon

One night, Jen and I boomed with a decision for our Marians-sa-SLPC^[1][2] barkadahan^[3] to go for a night swim (Not quite true. We really just wanted to get drunk in a different place and setup, and to do it wet and/or by the pool is an appealing idea) to reward ourselves after experiencing a series of long examinations that was about to wrap up the following day. We decided that it’s better to do it right after the last set of exam.

Next day, we immediately told the barkada^[3b] of our supposed night swim. But since the scheduled plan was so sudden and it was hard to find and gather everyone, only a few confirmed that they would come. It was agreed that we would wait for the last examinee to finish and they’d be allowed ample time to prepare his/her things. Jen, already finished with all her tests, used her time to prepare foods and drinks. Meanwhile, Pattie, Ara and I, also finished with our tests, were trying to convince those who didn’t confirm, to join. We were not successful. So we shifted, instead, to contact prospect later-comers and we had a hard time doing it. Four hours of waiting in vain later, the others arrived. So off we went.

We decided to go to Manasa farm, which is only ten-minute away by jeep ^[4]. But to actually reach and set foot at Manasa farm, we have to walk uphill a rocky road. It was going to be a slow pace, with our heavy bags of clothes and food supplies. Sore legs and short of breath notwithstanding, we reached the place. However, at that very moment when we were merely 3 feet away from relaxation, our fickle-mindedness overwhelmed us. Right then and there at the gate of Manasa farm, we decided to switch to Nawawalang Paraiso instead, a different farm which is another 10-minute ride away. Furthermore, only when we reached Manasa farm did we chose to acknowledge the danger that is frequent in that isolated area. In fact, a group of thieves invaded that place and its clients just a few days ago. That’s a valid enough reason not too move forward, right? So we walked right back by the roadside.

There was the mutual understanding that if we want to relax in a place surrounded by nature, we would have to do physically demanding activities for us to get there. Utmost relaxation, after all, was the goal, and we wouldn’t mind suffering a little in order to achieve that. But as the day progressed, it became clear that to be tired was the default choice for the day. It was a conscious decision regardless of any incentive. We were somehow convinced that we needed to feel it. Please be reminded, however, that our brains were deprived of proper function of reason because we used it all up during the week-long tests and every mental abuse that they ensued. So for the lack of making logical decisions we make up with a high level of paranoia, er, guardedness. And so off we went. Again.

We reached the roadside and waited for a jeepney; two or three have passed but they were filled with passengers already. Here’s the irony: we didn’t want to ride a crowded jeepney, even though it would only take five minutes to get to Nawawalang Paraiso and we would be giving our shoulders a rest from the stuffs we’re carrying. We, instead, chose to walk AGAIN through a series of uphills, downhills and various forms of zigzag roads toward Nawawalang Paraiso, which would take us thirty minutes minimum, because of the simple reason that we got tired of waiting for an empty jeepney, and we’re tired of, well, just plain tired and the waiting only made it worse. The twisted logic, I soon discovered, behind this was simply: we become so physical that we hardly feel pain if we’re so impatient in a can-hardly-wait kind of way.

From Manasa farm (Lucban), we managed to go as far as the gate of Kamayan sa Palaisdaan (in the the neighboring town of Tayabas) until we started to acknowledge and really feel our growing tiredness. We took a rest and tried our luck once more for a jeepney. Eventually, a half-empty jeep passed by and we got in. A brief but breezy ride later we reached Nawawalang Paraiso. Oh my God! Nawawalang paraiso^[5], indeed. Salvation, here ye!

That night turned out to be quite comforting. There was the friendly moon, there was the cool pool water, and there was the cool water again. Oh darn, it rained! But we were so drunk and merry and laughing our fried brains out that we no longer cared.

Should I say that the long walk was worth it? Why not, as it turned out to be a night to remember… (oh wait, I seriously can’t remember anything from that night and I’ll probably deny it ever happened had there not been any photos to prove it. But I took those photos, so I guess I win). But what it took to get there is another thing. Where else can I experience awesome tiredness in a company of un-whiney and indecisive friends who saw it as a chance to go on a nature trip, and a very long country walk, and burning thrice the calories than we normally do (what, with all the walking, heavy bag-carrying, mouthful laughing, faux swimming, and the energy-draining emotional side-effect of being drunk)? Yeah, just as I thought.

FOOTNOTES: [1][2]“Marians” is the moniker for a student and alumnus of Maryhill College. Our barkada is composed of SLPC students who are all members of Maryhill College class of 2005. SLPC or Southern Luzon Polytechnic College is now officially known as SLSU or Southern Luzon State University.Go back to reading ↑ [3/b]“Barkada” is a Tagalog word that loosely means “group of friends”, “posse”, or “company you hanged out with for a specific period”.Go back to reading ↑ [4]Jeepney is a public vehicle unique to the Philippines. Go here for further info.Go back to reading ↑ [5]“Nawawalang Paraiso” literally means “lost paradise”. Go back to reading ↑ THIS POST IS UPDATED (Dec. 28, 2011) I modified some sentences that are superfluous, changed some that are confusing, added some for emphasis, and omitted some that are irrelevant. I used my memories to make this post truly reflect what I felt back then. And I hope that they give you a funny feeling after reading this.