#icchs

This will be a very long post. So if you have time, thanks for reading all the way through.

I woke up at around 5:30 am because I knew I had to go somewhere. Still lying on my bed, I grabbed my phone beside the bed and tried to look for a button to press. I did find what I was looking for and light beamed which took my eyes to stagger and close. “5:36 am, Feb 24, Friday”. Today’s the day. 

I mustered up the strength to take the comforter off my half-awake body and prepared. While I was heating water for a shower, I turned my PS4 on and watched the usual stuff, WatchMojo’s Top 10 list. I was entertained for a couple of minutes until I remembered I was heating water. Went in the shower and thought about my coming trip. I didn’t know what to feel. Nostalgic? Nervous? Happy? Or sad? 

I arrived at the airport and sat down near the boarding gate. Drank my Dr Pepper while reading the first chapter of the nth story of my favorite book. I stopped reading when I started to think “Hey! Maybe it’s(the trip) not gonna be that bad!”. After a couple of minutes, announcer said something that made me stand up and grab all my stuff. I sat on my assigned plane seat and listened to my usual playlist. After that, I didn’t realize I was starting to loose consciousness. Then I knew it, I was falling asleep. 

I woke up and contacted my friend who was picking me up. They were outside and we drove to this new place I knew didn’t exist the last time I was here. I felt happy seeing them again, talking to them, and just having fun. They dropped me off after our brunch somewhere I could ride a jeepney heading to my stepdad’s house. I remembered walking on this road, looking for the right jeepney. I felt nostalgic. Then I broke a smile.

I arrived at my stepdad’s house and expected his surprise. Though he didn’t look happy, I knew he was. I saw my brother and I felt even happier. I hate the feeling of happiness. It eats you alive. Yet still, you want some more.

We had lunch. I knew my stepdad was trying his best to bond and talk because we weren’t really that close. It broke my heart to see how things would have been a lot better between us if I only didn’t shut my heart out to him. It hurt me even more because I knew we won’t that much time to compensate for those years we’ve lost but I smiled and cherished the moment instead. I understood him. 

That afternoon, I showered, opened my laptop and worked a little, and prepared to go out. Met with my old high school classmates and ate “Batchoy” somewhere in the city. That feeling of not eating something you’ve yearned for for years. How I wish I could seal that moment forever. Then we went back to visit our old high school and met with old teachers. Something was off.

It didn’t feel right. I dunno. Everybody was talking to everybody else. Some of the guys remembering what they used to do in high school with everybody else. I knew I should be feeling happy, but weirdly, I didn’t. 

After that, they went to their hotels while some of us went to our high school reunion venue. I saw familiar faces and talked to some of them. Some of them I didn’t wanna see, some of them I was hoping to see. The number of people inside started increasing and it wasn’t long until we were ready to start the party. To be honest, it was fun. We played games, had raffles, and even had time to take class photos. 

Then after the event, I contacted my other friends who I made plans to go out with and chill. For some reason, we had to cancel. So I started walking. I walked on the streets that didn’t change. Alone. Seeing the same street, the same things, the same shops, the same people, the same everything, made me realize why I left in the first place. I’m different.

I thought hanging out with my old high school classmates would be fun. It wasn’t.

I thought going back to the place I grew up would make me smile. It didn’t. 

I thought I was gonna see my old friends. I didn’t. 

I thought talking to my stepdad would fill the void between us. It got worse.

I thought I was gonna be ok. Or so I thought.

It was so apparent that I was on a very different wavelength than everybody else around me. Everybody didn’t get me and I couldn’t understand them. I felt so ostracized and so out of place, I just wanna get out of here. 

Rode the jeepney that went straight to my stepdad’s place. Texted him and prepared for bed. It was so depressing. I opened Facebook and saw my old classmates post our pictures. Didn’t change a thing. I guess I was just different. 

That was the main reason I left this place years ago. 

The feeling of being out of place. 

The feeling that you just don’t belong here. 

The feeling of being alone.

You know you’re from HuaXiong when:

Unlike other people, you don’t refer to your Alma Mater as “Chinese Commercial.”

You wonder why they do.

You belong to a section that’s named after a fruit, flower, tree, or planet (a virtue if you’re from Ledesco.)

Your class resembles a mini-Philippines in that you have classmates from all over the country, and beyond.

You have at least one relative who’s also from ICCHS.

Red, white and green does not always mean Christmas.

You are sick and tired of hearing “Diligence, Sincerity, Loyalty, Courage” (or its Chinese counterpart) over and over again.

For all you know, you don’t take it too seriously.

You have chanted “Hua shang wan sui! Hua shang wan wan sui!” countless times.

You have memorized all the Chinese holidays and festivals for the sole reason that you get to have no class.

Speaking of holidays, February 25 to you means more than just commemorating EDSA.

You have a weeklong vacation by then, but you end up dead exhausted preparing, rehearsing and performing in various activities.

You revere and worship Ty Sian like a demigod.

You refer to your Chinese teachers as “lao shi” or “xian xi.”

When in a hurry, however, that becomes “xi”.

You communicate via sign language with newbies from Mainland China.

Amazingly, you manage to understand each other perfectly well.

You always cajole them to give you higher grades.

You usually succeed!

You have been fined for speaking in dialect in grade school.

You have been fined for transferring your seat in grade school.

In grade school, your notebooks are strictly 50- or 100-leaf ICCHS notebooks, with neat plastic covers and red 1-inch margins.

In grade school, you momentarily developed identity crisis from studying “Ako ay Pilipino” in Civics class, only to be followed by reciting “Wo shi Zhong Guo ren” in Chinese class.

You agree that the comfort rooms are a real problem.

The mini-dump area at the foot of Stair C is an even bigger problem.

You envy schools with wide, open campuses.

You sometimes think canteen food is overpriced.

Writing pages of “xiao kai” during vacation break is a real killjoy.

You postpone doing it till the first day of classes.

You also hate writing “chok bun.”

You secretly write “kodigo” or “chu im” on your Chinese language textbook during oral or speech tests.

You have climbed the time-honored stage without using the stairs at least once.

Signal No. 2 and Signal No. 3 typhoons mean nothing to you. Most probably, classes are still going to push through, anyway.

Guess what? They actually do.

You know what is meant by “Channel 11” and why it is prohibited.

You do it somewhere else!

You take pride in the dance troupe.

You cheer your lungs out during the Grand Rally.

You cheer even harder during the Intramural Games.

You cheer the loudest during the ILOPRISAA basketball games.

You usually end up the champion.

By the way, playing basketball on cement is perfectly fine!

You know that if you are on the second floor canopy during the Intramural Games, you can readily watch three matches at the same time – basketball, volleyball/badminton, and table tennis.

You can also listen to a lecture in class with a program on full blast outside!

The Chinese Ambassador and the Chinese Consul-General are familiar faces during important events.

When they show up at the gates, you line the corridors with your classmates shouting “huan ying! huan ying!” and enthusiastically waving pieces of matching red crepe paper.

Your class goal is to win the annual Christmas Chorale Competition.

Another class goal is to win the quarterly General Cleaning Competition.

And speaking of cleaning, you sometimes escape your cleaning duties after class.

You get to clean for one week as penalty.

You fondly refer to the extension building as the “new building.”

You go to the library for reasons other than to read.

When late, you stretch your creative juices and write the most fascinating statements on your excuse slip.

The teacher does not usually believe them.

You have code names for all your teachers.

You consider three years of “hokbu” a waste of time.

You bring along notes and books to study at your assigned post when the teacher-in-charge is not looking.

The drinking fountain on the ground floor isn’t exactly for drinking.

Your cellphone occasionally rings in class.

The teacher, who noticed it, looks at you and raises one suspicious eyebrow.

You have perfected the art of cramming.

You regularly do your homework just before the intended period.

You know how hard it is to get an 85 just so you would qualify for honors.

Exemptions from exams are unheard of.

You easily survive without paper for the entire school year.

Solution: You just ask from your seatmate!

You suck at math in high school but you ace it in college.

You were never allowed to use calculators in Chinese math class.

In grade school, you twisted your tongue just to orally memorize the Chinese multiplication table within a time limit of 2 minutes.

You also have to memorize lists of “chi di”, “bun tui”, idioms and characters from ancient myths, stories and articles.

By now, you have forgotten all of them.

You detest going down for the flag ceremony on Mondays and Fridays.

You utilize the time to do a last minute review for the quiz moments after.

You have composed your own parody of the Alma Mater Song.

Hearing “If there are no more announcements, we can go back to our classrooms” from Ms. Annie Sy is music to your ears.

You know it is a mortal sin to go malling in uniform.

You do it anyway.

Your parents get a loving telephone call from the guidance counselor if ever you get caught.

You have heard different versions of ICCHS horror stories.

You have your own personal version.

Chinese songs are a part of your life and you know the popular ones by heart.

You have sung or listened to the Chinese versions of “Reflection” and “Yesterday’s Dream”.

You invariably had the Junior-Senior Prom at the Amigo Terrace Hotel.

The Graduation Ball was held there, too.

You know which corridors get flooded by rain easily.

Recess time is always too short.

Lunch break is also too short.

You know what is meant by “major offense” and “minor offense.”

You avoid getting one.

Your blood boils when people mockingly chant “ching a chong a” behind your back.

You secretly curse them in Chinese!

“No ID, no entry” is a rule.

You have done practice teaching at least twice during fourth year.

You resemble a walking grocery store when you bring all sorts of food for “tao chia” purposes.

You share them.

When bored, you unknowingly scribble doodles on your desk.

The evidence is still there up to this very day.

You have a reputation to uphold when you enter college.

Once in college, you find that religion isn’t really your cup of tea.

You consider Jose Mari Chan and James Yap fellow alumni.

You slowly become nostalgic as you read this.

You are making the great countdown to the Grand Centennial in 2012.

You plan to attend the Grand Alumni Homecoming by then.

I didn't attend the homecoming. XDXD but yeah this was my first 12 years in school life was like <3