“HOME” AWAY FROM HOME

“What excites you in taking up the Ergonomics course? What do you look forward in this class?”

I remember the first time I encountered these questions. It was a prompt for an activity in our Ergonomics 1 class— “Anong Kwentong Ergo mo?”. Sir Yosh tasked us to write a journal—this became our platform to share our thoughts, suggestions, concerns, or anything under the sun relevant to the course.

I initially thought of writing a simple essay of how excited I was to gain knowledge in another field and to experience an onsite class where I can actually apply my learnings after having two years full of online classes. But as I was starting the activity, I questioned myself, were these really the moments I was excited for the most? Deep down, I knew that I wanted to write it in a more personal way.

As we will be having onsite classes in this course, I started the journal entry with how I have always wondered how would it feel to study in the four corners of the Roque Ruaño building. I have lived all my life in the province, in the four corners of our home. Thinking about moving out of my comfort zone after 20 years made me excited and anxious all at once. Why would I not be excited? My Pinterest board was pinned with inspirations of becoming “that girl”— a girlboss striving to be the best that she can be, including living alone and independently. It is one of my dreams to be able to do this, and our Ergonomics course made it possible.

The same day I wrote that entry was the day I traveled to Manila.

It was that day that my journal entry was becoming a reality. It marked one of the biggest turning points of my life as I left my family for the meantime to chase my best self. I remember Sir Yosh sharing a quote with us saying that we are destined for greatness. At that moment, I wanted to believe that it was one of the greatness destined for me.

But it was also that day—the day I officially moved to an empty dorm. The day when I stared at the empty unit, with my things still in boxes and bags, it started to sink in. It is happening. Now, I am here. Adjusting to a whole new environment—unlearning some habits and learning new ones. Coping and adapting to this new life that I will temporarily have.

Now, I know how to cook rice and a proper meal (And nope, not fried ulams). I have learned how to commute—may it be Grabs, taxis, tricycles, jeeps, UVs, buses, LRT, or MRT. I got the hang of tracking my expenses and budgeting my allowance. I can walk and cross the streets alone without getting anxious anymore. I do my laundry no matter how dry my hands get. I am learning how to balance and manage my time in attending classes while doing personal responsibilities.

It was those little things that I got to learn and do on my own. It is those little things that I am still trying to learn on my own. My little successes, if I may call it that way. Those were the same things I imagined I would be doing while I was writing down in my Ergo journal.

I had fun. I am having fun.

Despite how tiring and messed up living alone may get, I am glad that I am able to experience this because I know that these things will mold me to become the best version of myself. It is fun to go through my Pinterest board and tell myself that I am finally doing the ones I once thought were plain inspiration. I remember writing in my journal entry...

“It’s the thought that despite leaving home and starting living independently, I am now finally conquering my fears and reaching my dreams. I am now finally given the opportunity to grow mature, to learn doing life skills, and to stand on my own no matter how lonely it may get.”

But it is all those same little things that I used to do with my family. It is those little things that I am used to but now I am not.

Yes, I am having fun. But It can also be draining. It is exhausting to try to conquer the world with no one but you.

But wasn’t this the one I wanted the most? To have my own personal space to grow? Why am I starting to feel hollow?

During our Undas break, I had the opportunity to go home. Having to live home once again made me realize how comforting and secure it is to be there.

It was leaving for the second time around that it hit me. Homesickness hit me.

I cannot blame myself. Nothing beats home, I guess. No matter how messy it may get, I still find myself running home.

With all the tons of activities, quizzes, and exams coming around, I see the student body in harmonious unity for such a celebration. The homily was about honoring the treasures we have in life and remembering to be grateful to all who have helped us unearth them. Those words spoke to me because it is the friends I have surrounded myself with, who have given me the strength to find joy amidst the cruel pandemic—they are my true treasures. cannot think of anything but to feel the coziness of our home once again. Not just that. I want to feel the comfort of having my loved ones around, helping me or even doing chores for me; It is tough not seeing their support in person.

Once the mass had ended and as the stage was being prepared for the much-awaited ROARientation, the student body, just like myself, could no longer contain our elation, so we all began to cheer our hearts out. The closer it was to getting started, the louder the uproar was. As the lights dimmed and the hosts said their intensifying greeting, the roar of the students peaked. This festival was nothing compared to what I or any of us have experienced these past years. One would be in a state of euphoria as they were swept by the sea of flickering lightsticks and reverberating shouts of everyone. We were connected not just by our joys but more strongly by our shared desire to finally belong to something greater than ourselves again—the Thomasian community. The ROARientation continued with its program. It was filled with exhilarating games, events, and moments. My mind is filled with memories of laughing and bonding with my friends, and of swimming in exuberance throughout the program. Adding to my jubilant condition was the fact that we were getting closer and closer to the final act—the Homecoming Walk.

It was almost noon when the ROARientation ended, and preparations for the walk started. As we waited, we saw on the large screens the conditions outside—the rain was vigorous. Unlike most, I was not gloomy about the fact that it was raining. Compared to the uncertainties of waiting for this moment for the past two years, the strong downpour of the heavens was just a mere setback—a surprise ingredient to what would still be a delicious meal for the heart.

After about thirty minutes, we were guided to the entrance of QPAV, where we began walking towards the arch. The rain had not weakened my spirit. With our opened umbrellas and wet shoes, we first circled back in front of Roque Ruaño, back to QPAV, and towards the Arch. It was amusing to see others and ourselves try our best to avoid puddles of water in our path. I thought to myself, “what could be a greater Thomasian experience than having strong rain and a Homecoming walk on the same day?” As I got a glimpse of the fountain beside the arch and heard clearly the thunderous beats of the drums, I began to prepare my heart and spirit. Getting nearer the Arch was nerve-wracking because pressure sets in the body as you try to think of how to act and behave to make the experience count. Is there something more I should be doing? A prayer? A song? A dance?

Moments before entering the Arch, we decided to let out one last cheer to mark this Thomasian milestone. The act of passing through was not what made it magical. It was that, despite the two-year halt, it was finally happening and that we were with cherished friends. The path to the Arch did not merely begin at the entrance of QPAV, nor at the entrance of Roque Ruaño, nor at our beds this morning. Instead, the journey began more than two years ago—it was a long, tiring walk filled with dreadful challenges that pushed our physical, mental, and social selves to the limit. But amidst all the sorrows, tears, doubts, and constant rain, the arch was finally reached, and it was nothing but beguiling.

The arch is not only a symbol of new beginnings but also of the tribulations that we once championed, igniting a spark of a more hopeful vision of the future. It was not passing through the arch that brought us growth, but the path we had to take to get there. Let what we unearth from this experience also kindle our appreciation for ourselves, the pain we endured, and the strength we exhibited to reach this moment.

When homesickness hits, it hits deep.

Some days I enjoy living in the city, roaming around with friends, and living independently. Some nights I want to give up, pack my bags, and just go home. I am caught up between growing up and being comfortable.

This is the reality I was unable to realize in my journal. This is the complete opposite of what my independent living in 20s no one warned me about.

After passing my journal entry for my “Anong Kwentong Ergo mo?”, Sir Yosh commented.

I know how it feels to live alone, trying to be strong, but inside, tao lang tayo eh.

He’s right. I am caught up and confused. But why would I not be? Tao lang ako.

As someone who has lived in my comfort zone all of her life, it is impossible for me to adjust and adapt immediately. It takes time. Everything takes time. Just like how a plant takes time to grow into a tree.

No one can ever learn to stand on their own, unless they experience it firsthand. No one learns inside their comfort zones. They learn outside their bubble, in the bigger environment that the world can offer.

Sir Yosh reassured me in his comment saying, with such ease, growing up surrounded by praise, never exerting an ounce of effort just because you were naturally smart, or so you thought. You’re acing every exam, excelling in activities outside the academic realm, and you continue to be eager in exploring more of your abilities. It’s like having a free pass at one of the most challenging and crucial parts of an individual’s life—being a gifted kid in school, that is. To some people, it was their reality. However, a few years later, these people realize how ordinary they are, just like everybody else. The problem is, they’ve already formed a harmful mentality, weighed down by the constant need to be perfect and living in fear of inevitable failure. But why do most gifted kids fail?

Pero wag kang mag alala, kasi at the end of this, alam naman natin di ba, para sa kanila [pamilya] ang lahat ng ito. Angela, life in this world is tough - but we have to stand up and say, magiging okay din ang lahat.

In times na nahihirapan ka, isipin ang dahilan bakit ka nagsimula at bakit kailangan mong tapusin. Malapit na Angela, masusuot mo na ang itim na toga. At sana sa pagkakataong iyon, taas noo kang babalik sa probinsya ninyo dahil yung mga dahilan ng hirap at sakripisyo mo ay natakpan na ng itim sa toga mo.

You are saying once you leave home, everything will never stay the same again. Actually, its true, pero dapat dagdagan mo. "But when you go back home, it will feel a different way, na mas buo kang haharap kasama ng mga mahal mo sa buhay, at magiging worth it ang lahat..."

It is not easy living away from our homes.

But we need to remind ourselves that growth is supposed to be uncomfortable. It is being tried and tested in various circumstances in order to fully actualize our best selves, who we are supposed to be. And unless we let ourselves be uncomfortable, we will never attain the sweetness of success.

I may be living far away from home, but I am trying to find solace and growth with where I am right now.

I may not be able to go home as often as I used to, and my home may not be the same as it used to be, but I can say that I am starting to build my own home through the comfort of living my dreams, growing wherever I am, and learning to stand by myself and for myself— my “home” away from home.

It cannot be denied that social pressure from other people plays a significant role. Growing up with the never-ending reminder that gifted kids are supposed to succeed can be harmful in the long run. Also, being the first or the only child in a conservative Asian household comes with a lot of baggage, especially if one belongs to the middle or lower class in the Philippines. These people carry so much weight at such a young age: the expectation to be exceptional in school, with no room to make mistakes, and eventually become the breadwinner of the family.