Friday, October 31, 2003
//vanilla frap aftershocks
Hurray! Today, I found out what my cousin's real name is.
We grew apart, she was raised in the States, while I, I have never set foot on foreign soil until I was 26. But with all the photographs our parents have exchanged through the years, I felt like she, and all my 7 other cousins living in California, have always been there. We might not have had played hide-and-seek or patintero in the streets when we were young, but the strong sense of familiarity has always been there.
2 weeks ago, she came home in a rush with her dad to bury her grandmother. As it is with most Filipinos, any relative coming home from abroad is always cause for cheer, regardless of the circumstances. I was a bit uncomfortable when I heard that a cousin of mine came home from the states. The last time she came home, we were kids, and we could submit ourselves to senseless banter and just laugh our way through Enchanted Kingdom. Things are different now. Members of our generation have grown up to be the adult, issue and temperament-laden individuals that we are, and I thought, it might not be as easy to find that connection between us anymore.
Last weekend, a couple of days before she left for the States, we went out. Watched a movie, window-shopped, strolled around the mall. The movie was nice, window-shopping was okay, strolling was a bit tiring, but it was during dinner that we really got to talk: a real conversation between 2 people who barely knew each other. I never realized how the food could be so bad (Ate Lally, if you're reading this, you have to admit, the food wasn't exactly heavenly, was it? My fault... eeep...) and yet dinner could still be great. And how Vanilla Frapuccino could stay frozen for 3 hours as we talked. The day ended with me realizing how my cousin and I have so much in common. We're both peacemakers (conflict-phobes, i think...) and we have this common desire to blaze our own trails, and go beyond what our families expect from us. Be different from everyone else, but not in a angst-filled way. We belong to the rare breed of young professionals who do not seek out worldly pleasures, for what we seek is much harder to find, happiness from simplest of things.
I emailed her today and a bit of sadness crept through me. My cousin could have been my best friend had we gone to the same school, the same children's parties, played hide-and-seek in the backyard with the same set of friends. She could have been there for me whenever I'd melodramatically reflect on the meaning of life as an aftershock of each failed relationship I've already gone through. She could have had her heart broken several times as well, and I would have been there for her, even threatening to beat up that last guy (with the help of my bigger friends, of course...) and we could have spent so many nights sitting on the couch and having ice cream to try to beat our depressions.
A week after her departure, life goes on. I figure that it'll take another five years before we see each other again. But things could be different from hereon, just because we had bad Japanese food and never-ending Vanilla Frap. This time around, we're no longer thousands of miles away.
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We grew apart, she was raised in the States, while I, I have never set foot on foreign soil until I was 26. But with all the photographs our parents have exchanged through the years, I felt like she, and all my 7 other cousins living in California, have always been there. We might not have had played hide-and-seek or patintero in the streets when we were young, but the strong sense of familiarity has always been there.
2 weeks ago, she came home in a rush with her dad to bury her grandmother. As it is with most Filipinos, any relative coming home from abroad is always cause for cheer, regardless of the circumstances. I was a bit uncomfortable when I heard that a cousin of mine came home from the states. The last time she came home, we were kids, and we could submit ourselves to senseless banter and just laugh our way through Enchanted Kingdom. Things are different now. Members of our generation have grown up to be the adult, issue and temperament-laden individuals that we are, and I thought, it might not be as easy to find that connection between us anymore.
Last weekend, a couple of days before she left for the States, we went out. Watched a movie, window-shopped, strolled around the mall. The movie was nice, window-shopping was okay, strolling was a bit tiring, but it was during dinner that we really got to talk: a real conversation between 2 people who barely knew each other. I never realized how the food could be so bad (Ate Lally, if you're reading this, you have to admit, the food wasn't exactly heavenly, was it? My fault... eeep...) and yet dinner could still be great. And how Vanilla Frapuccino could stay frozen for 3 hours as we talked. The day ended with me realizing how my cousin and I have so much in common. We're both peacemakers (conflict-phobes, i think...) and we have this common desire to blaze our own trails, and go beyond what our families expect from us. Be different from everyone else, but not in a angst-filled way. We belong to the rare breed of young professionals who do not seek out worldly pleasures, for what we seek is much harder to find, happiness from simplest of things.
I emailed her today and a bit of sadness crept through me. My cousin could have been my best friend had we gone to the same school, the same children's parties, played hide-and-seek in the backyard with the same set of friends. She could have been there for me whenever I'd melodramatically reflect on the meaning of life as an aftershock of each failed relationship I've already gone through. She could have had her heart broken several times as well, and I would have been there for her, even threatening to beat up that last guy (with the help of my bigger friends, of course...) and we could have spent so many nights sitting on the couch and having ice cream to try to beat our depressions.
A week after her departure, life goes on. I figure that it'll take another five years before we see each other again. But things could be different from hereon, just because we had bad Japanese food and never-ending Vanilla Frap. This time around, we're no longer thousands of miles away.
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