Feb. 24, 2013, a few minutes after the hour of 11 in the evening, I boarded a small boat with my best friend, Nikko. We got so frustrated after a night that did not turn out as expected. We were invited to a party-well the bar hopping sort-but after some hours we were forgotten, as if we weren't part of the group. It was a battle of 8 over 2-we were outnumbered. It seemed as if we were accessories, not people who had feelings, who got hurt. Before the group (ehem, of course we weren't part of the decision) decided to move to another bar, Nikko and I bade farewell. We started from KANEM then walked all the way from SM City Baguio down Session Rd., went through Harrison Rd., then finally caught a glimpse of the pine trees in Burnham Park. Passing through Abanao St., we decided to drop by another bar (but I'm not saying which bar hehehehe), only to find out it was flooded with partygoers due to the Panagbenga Festival. Once again, out irritation blew away all hope for a productive night. We then trudged the same path we took but we stopped at Burnham Park. For about an hour, we walked around and around Burnham Lake. We realized there was nothing much to get from walking without accomplishing something or at least acquiring positive thoughts from the disastrous night out. Finally, we visited the Night Market, which is close to the Park. Thank God there were food street vendors who still had "tokneneng"! For a few minutes while munching on the flour-covered quail eggs, we smiled. After eating, the silence hit us again. Soon, we were back on the brinks of Burnham Lake, smoking and staring at the groups of tourists who found shelter at the Park through putting up their tents or simply laying down blankets. I feared for the children, babies, who cuddled in the coldness of Baguio. I pitied the shivering elderly and remembered how families lined up along Session Rd. just to get a good spot for the famed Panagbenga Festivities (remember, we passed by it too). As I pitied and feared, Nikko asked, "Gusto mo mag-boating?" and I: "Ikaw ah, kung gusto mo." So, we paid the payment guy and went aboard a small, orange boat with the name 'Cherry'. At first, all I had was shrieks and shouts until I realized Nikko was a connoisseur. We sang almost 20 songs and laughed each time we flunked a note or failed to remember a word. In between the songs and grave laughter, we smoked our new stick - Vanilla Menthol. It was then we realized our clocks had ticked time away; we weren't angry, hurt, offended, or frustrated anymore. We had learned to let go. And, what was it that made all the pain go away? It was the soft rippling lake, the temperate winds, the dazzling moon, the silent night that only spoke our songs' tunes. It was then that I came to mind...we did not need to feel forgotten, rejected, or unwanted...for what we shared, a friendship so deep, made much stronger in rippling waves, was much more than the laughter of a partying troop.
