Reminiscing about being a freshman with a hit of nostalgia

Let us describe a perfect opening for a freshman’s day. You wake up earlier than expected, ahead of your alarm. For a few minutes, you stare at the ceiling, and the edges of your lips tug up into a smile. You feel the warmth of the sun kissing your skin. You finally get up, humming a familiar tune, proceeding to wash your face and get breakfast.

Before long, you head to the shower and start picking your clothes. Should you opt for the denim skirt or the stylish orange square pants? Do you feel like wearing a dress today? Eventually, you finally decide. After all, that’s a very freshman thing – to have enthusiasm over everything, even for your clothes.

Soon enough, you are checking your watch as you head outside, realizing that you are quite early for your next class. You put your headphones on, ready to conquer the ups and downs of today, giddy as you feel like the entire world is smiling at you.

Reminiscing about being a freshman

Could you feel the enthusiasm from that promising and well-depicted routine? I hope you did. For the first few weeks, my days as a freshman Journalism student commenced exactly as that. It exuded ideal and fresh energy like everything felt possible. Every day was a new beginning and I faced it with a youthful ardency.

The beginning of college, then, tasted like freedom. It felt like a catharsis after all the years enslaved by the strict rules of a Catholic institution from senior high school. It was thrilling, too, like you were in a movie and you had no idea what is coming so you just look forward to it. The world felt big and explorable, so I started each day with that thought as my primary fuel.

A freshman and her love-hate relationship with commuting

After that rejuvenating routine comes the most loved, yet most hated part of it all—commuting. I would ride a tricycle, walk a few blocks, then scurry to the jeep terminal. The speed of my walking depends on how late I already am. There, I would wait for the vehicle to be filled. It is not like I have much of a choice, though. Jeepney drivers need to earn money. When I get lucky, I would be the last passenger before it heads off.

Since I am a very ‘thoughtful’ person—I mean it, I always overthink. Commuting is enjoyable for me because it offers me some time with my thoughts. I get to be quiet and enjoy the melodies blasting from my earphones, thinking about anything and everything I could possibly get my mind on.

The only time I would dread commuting is when two factors are present. One, if the traffic remains so heavy that it makes me stuck for an hour or more. And, two, if the weather is intense (i.e., intensely rainy, intensely sunny).

Lucky (or unluckily) for me, the Philippines’ commuting system has always, and I mean always, room for both. Turns out this ‘only time’ means ‘daily.’ I would find my face soon enough stocked up with sweat.

That, together with the scorching heat, could easily set my day off; I just refuse to allow it. As a freshman who’s going through these for the first time, it can be very tough. I guess it is just a matter of getting used to it, as people would always say.

More than dreading it, I actually find myself missing it, especially now that I can no longer commute like the old days. An hour or less and I would already be in Pureza, waiting for the pedestrian light to turn green so I could cross.

To walk or not to walk? That is the question

Upon reaching the other side, I would have to consider a lot of details. My options are either to walk to the College of Communication or ride another tricycle. Am I late already? If not, I should walk. Am I feeling lazy to do that? What am I in the mood for?

Since I am late most of the time, I take the tricycle and in less than five minutes, I am in front of my campus already. Sometimes, I would use my feet and it would take me longer, but at least I would get the chance to walk in the midst of a crowd of students, an atmosphere heavy with scholarly activities as I make my way to my campus.

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My favorite part: dismissal!

The day would pass by in a blur. Professors would teach, and my head would drown with new-found knowledge. I will chug it all down with a hearty lunch from a nearby eatery. A little break and then I would be back in activity, taking a few naps here and there in between classes. Soon enough, the sky would be painted in a faded navy-blue hue, or sometimes, in pitch black with little astral bodies dotting it, and then we are dismissed.

I would walk home with my close friends and converse about how our day went. We’d talk about our college crushes and how cute their smile looked when we saw them that day. We would say our goodbyes and part ways. They would cross the street amidst a busy, hustling road during rush hour.

I, on the other hand, would ride a jeepney back home. Another traffic jam, but at least, it is not that hot anymore. I would lay my head somewhere and close my eyes, my bag well-secured in my hold, my favorite songs accompanying me yet again for a good hour. Before I know it, I am home, lying in my bed, sleeping, and getting ready to be a freshman all over again.

Oh, to return to being a freshman.

If there is only a way to relive all of these experiences without any consequences, I would not hesitate to do so. There is just something about college life before COVID-19 that hits different. The nostalgia that comes from the ‘youthful ardency’ brought by college is something I would never forget.

There’s the feeling of being busy, and productive, yet free all at the same time like your youth is at its peak. The feeling of actually learning. The feeling of being late yet still managing to be somewhere on the attendance list, the thrill of being able to skip some classes because of org works.

Just college in general—I would give anything just to be able to hop on that period of freshman life again. Alas, we are still stuck in this pandemic, and the situation would possibly continue on until heaven-knows-when. The only things I could do right now are to immortalize these memories through writing and constantly reminisce about them.