The Rain is My Element
I love the rain.
There's something about the soft pitter-patter on the roof and its sickly sweet smell that calms my nerves and never fails to stir memories in my mind.
Grade School. All I needed then to get a perfect day was rain. I remember getting up at 6AM, expecting the regular routine of going to school. Waking up to the cold wind and seeing sheets of water gliding across the window automatically directs me to turn on the TV and eagerly await the cancellation of classes. Upon hearing the announcement, I run out of my room into the dining room to tell my mom, who, by that time, has already made breakfast. I spend the morning lying in bed, watching cartoons I never get to see and eating warm, freshly coooked longganisa.
First & Fourth Year High School. I especially loved rain when I was in high school for 2 reasons: 1) classes were cancelled, so I was excused from being late, and 2) getting stranded, which meant spending part of the day with my friends. One of my friends in the early years of HS lived in San Juan - a great distance from the school. The jeepney she had to ride home was the very same one I rode to get home. So when classes got cancelled and both of us were already in school, we'd ride the jeep together and spend the rest of the day waiting for sunnier skies, hanging out here at home, watching TV.
It was a different case when I was in fourth year. During senior year, I had Foods (Cooking Subject) scheduled every Friday for four hours plus - 7:45AM to 12NN (then another hour for lunch). There was a month whose Fridays got cancelled because of the rain, but the announcements weren't made official until lunchtime. So just imagine the Fridays my classmates and I spent at school - we'd go to class at 8AM, cook until around 10-11AM, spend the next hour eating, clean up, and head home for a semi-long weekend. I remember one particular GREAT Friday - classes were canceled around 9AM, and some of my classmates didn't bother to start preparing the ingredients because they counted on leaving early. As soon as the announcement was verified, around half of my classmates had left - except for majority of my groupmates/friends. We begged Ms. Ortega to allow as to continue with the planned recipe because we weren't going anywhere (we didn't have school bus service, so technically we were stranded). She allowed us to do so and we ended up having the entire kitchen to ourselves, casually hanging out, cooking (twice the amount we had to prepare, hehe), playing around during the clean up, and of course - eating (like one big happy barkada/family) together with our teacher. We finished around 12, and by that time our sundos were already at Gate 1, ready to take us home. ^_^
First Year College. College classes were rarely canceled on account of the rain, so I suppose that's why I only have one memory of it out of the four-five years I spent at school. Being a member of the fencing team, I had a varsity jacket - one I proudly put on at the first hint of rain. I wore it for the first time on that day (oh joy! oh rapture!), and spent a couple of hours parading it around the campus (kapal ko 'noh? Hehe. But really, I was just walking around, looking for my friends). After I had found them, we spent the morning walking around campus and hanging out in empty classrooms and the building lobby. In the afternoon, our friend who owns a car arrived at school, and we drove off to the mall.
X. Stranded on a street corner which was surrounded by mid-calf-deep water. Not being able to get a ride home because all modes of transportation were full. Him skipping his 8AM class so we could meet (it was going to get canceled anyway!). A fogged up car, and finding him drenched outside McDonald's waiting for me.
Moments of Depression. These moments are probably the most important out of all my memories related to the rain. There were a lot of times when I was depressed and - as melodramatic as it sounds - I walked home in the rain. I never had rain and tears rolling down my cheeks at the same time (Sheesh! That'd just be corny!); I just walked, head hung down in deep thought, trudging my way home. If I was feeling down but wasn't outdoors, I'd hear rain falling in a while. I'd go out of my room and look out our window, smell the familiar scent of rainwater. Kinda like the way I'm doing now.
***
A lot of people see rain as a mild depressant; I find it somewhat the opposite. Rain is... therapeutic for me. In the same way that people need someone to sympathize with when they're down, I need rain to just fall for me. Not exactly to empathize, but simply fall to the ground - to serve as the silent listener to my infinite melancholy, and perhaps to remind me of the better days I have spent with it.
There's something about the soft pitter-patter on the roof and its sickly sweet smell that calms my nerves and never fails to stir memories in my mind.
Grade School. All I needed then to get a perfect day was rain. I remember getting up at 6AM, expecting the regular routine of going to school. Waking up to the cold wind and seeing sheets of water gliding across the window automatically directs me to turn on the TV and eagerly await the cancellation of classes. Upon hearing the announcement, I run out of my room into the dining room to tell my mom, who, by that time, has already made breakfast. I spend the morning lying in bed, watching cartoons I never get to see and eating warm, freshly coooked longganisa.
First & Fourth Year High School. I especially loved rain when I was in high school for 2 reasons: 1) classes were cancelled, so I was excused from being late, and 2) getting stranded, which meant spending part of the day with my friends. One of my friends in the early years of HS lived in San Juan - a great distance from the school. The jeepney she had to ride home was the very same one I rode to get home. So when classes got cancelled and both of us were already in school, we'd ride the jeep together and spend the rest of the day waiting for sunnier skies, hanging out here at home, watching TV.
It was a different case when I was in fourth year. During senior year, I had Foods (Cooking Subject) scheduled every Friday for four hours plus - 7:45AM to 12NN (then another hour for lunch). There was a month whose Fridays got cancelled because of the rain, but the announcements weren't made official until lunchtime. So just imagine the Fridays my classmates and I spent at school - we'd go to class at 8AM, cook until around 10-11AM, spend the next hour eating, clean up, and head home for a semi-long weekend. I remember one particular GREAT Friday - classes were canceled around 9AM, and some of my classmates didn't bother to start preparing the ingredients because they counted on leaving early. As soon as the announcement was verified, around half of my classmates had left - except for majority of my groupmates/friends. We begged Ms. Ortega to allow as to continue with the planned recipe because we weren't going anywhere (we didn't have school bus service, so technically we were stranded). She allowed us to do so and we ended up having the entire kitchen to ourselves, casually hanging out, cooking (twice the amount we had to prepare, hehe), playing around during the clean up, and of course - eating (like one big happy barkada/family) together with our teacher. We finished around 12, and by that time our sundos were already at Gate 1, ready to take us home. ^_^
First Year College. College classes were rarely canceled on account of the rain, so I suppose that's why I only have one memory of it out of the four-five years I spent at school. Being a member of the fencing team, I had a varsity jacket - one I proudly put on at the first hint of rain. I wore it for the first time on that day (oh joy! oh rapture!), and spent a couple of hours parading it around the campus (kapal ko 'noh? Hehe. But really, I was just walking around, looking for my friends). After I had found them, we spent the morning walking around campus and hanging out in empty classrooms and the building lobby. In the afternoon, our friend who owns a car arrived at school, and we drove off to the mall.
X. Stranded on a street corner which was surrounded by mid-calf-deep water. Not being able to get a ride home because all modes of transportation were full. Him skipping his 8AM class so we could meet (it was going to get canceled anyway!). A fogged up car, and finding him drenched outside McDonald's waiting for me.
Moments of Depression. These moments are probably the most important out of all my memories related to the rain. There were a lot of times when I was depressed and - as melodramatic as it sounds - I walked home in the rain. I never had rain and tears rolling down my cheeks at the same time (Sheesh! That'd just be corny!); I just walked, head hung down in deep thought, trudging my way home. If I was feeling down but wasn't outdoors, I'd hear rain falling in a while. I'd go out of my room and look out our window, smell the familiar scent of rainwater. Kinda like the way I'm doing now.
A lot of people see rain as a mild depressant; I find it somewhat the opposite. Rain is... therapeutic for me. In the same way that people need someone to sympathize with when they're down, I need rain to just fall for me. Not exactly to empathize, but simply fall to the ground - to serve as the silent listener to my infinite melancholy, and perhaps to remind me of the better days I have spent with it.
posted by roseraven11 @ 12:09 PM
0 comments
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home