Celebrating independence day spelled long weekend, and it was only fitting to spend my day of freedom in a place named after the country, and where I first remembered feeling a literal sense of liberation.
Hello, University of the Philippines! (how I’ve missed your tree-lined streets)
Trips back are now met with exuberant anticipation. My mother always said she felt a sense of calm in Diliman, and I never understood this sentiment as a struggling undergrad - with buildings only reminding me of urgent deadlines and papers to write. As an official alumni though, I finally understand - no more classes to worry about, just a stories in every step, memories in every corner. Cheesy, but true.
The visit’s purpose was to take my freshman cousin (see girl in blue) to the little-known nooks and crannies of the campus, and teach her shortcuts I learned the hard way (which are tales in themselves). Apparently, she learned some on her own so we took the Ikot instead and showed her the stops.
Since she’s planning to leave for London in the fall, her UP experience will have to be crammed in two months. There should be a list somewhere of everything “must-do” or at least, “must try” in the fabled Diliman campus. When we were freshmen, the blockmates and I first experimented with all the eating establishments we could find. One of my favorites was is the Beach House.
Going there, I spotted this -
Those familiar with the UP Naming Mahal would recognize the name. I honestly thought it was just a line in a song - apparently it exists in the “real world”.
Spotted too, near the library, was a little something for my good friend Cita -
Somewhere in Diliman, her namesake makes a living.
Spent the rest of the day sweating unglamorously, stopping by the SC and paying Myrna’s a visit, discovering my favorite dirty ice cream stand has raised prices (shame!), buying a coveted Diliman Republic shirt, and reminiscing thesis printing and binding days (in front of the actual stall, no less). My cousin asked if we submitted photo-finish, and I had to admit yes, although that experience was truly for the books (and we redeemed ourselves months later). Expectedly ate lunch at Rodic’s, and I missed Manang “isang-tapsiloooog!”.
We eventually parked in front of the College of Science library and walked the NIGS-CS-Math Building shortcut. I should have probably took more pictures at this point, but I was too busy remembering TF 2:30-4:00 Math 1 walks with Diana.
Amazingly, the paths seemed shorter - a feeling one would understandably get going back to pre-school, or grade school even, but college?
Apparently I was not imagining things and they are in fact, now building the National Science Complex. A turn in the road led to a rotonda, where the gods buildings of science seemed to be smiling down on the circle - Math, Physics, Chemistry, Molecular Biology and Biotechnology. I envy the future scientists.
I envy the freshmen now, honestly. What I would give to wake up tomorrow, make sure my Form 5 and ID are in my bag, check my coin purse for a supply of 1s and 5s, and trek the long climb that is the AS steps. Or SMS the ever-reliable girls, “Universal lunch?” and make it just in time for 11:30-1:00. I’d be in a shirt, jeans and chucks, worry about photocopying readings and possibly training in the evening.
But in the absence of a time machine, I will content myself with these little “drop-in” visits.
Paris-from-the-streets view
It was a trip that took barely a month to plan, but approximately a split second to say “yes!” to. Maybe it was the one-too-many hours spent under the glare of fluorescent lights and in front of a perpetually whirring office computer that made us crave sun, surf and sand. We all deserved it, and the wordplay of stressed and desserts played around in my head in the weeks leading up to August 29.
Incidentally, it was the first time I flew by my lonesome on this trip, and I remember being mistaken for a local at Terminal 3. (Perhaps it was the way I confidently answered, “Tagbilaran” when asked for my destination.)
(Balicasag Island, Bohol)
They say stressed is simply “desserts” spelled backwards.
shelikestomove is written by a twenty-something working girl who vowed to go to places she has never been to. Armed with a plan, she is forever in search of the next unknown beach, the next dream destination, and the next island to visit - after all, her hometown has 7,107.
This is her attempt to chronicle her hodgepodge of stories from everywhere.
