Once upon a time, in a land known for its enchanting beaches, bountiful harvests, and unbearably scorching heat waves, there lived a young girl who dreamt of pursuing higher education in a place far, far away from home. As the years went by she managed to outgrow this inconceivable (and highly expensive) fantasy, focusing instead on the more distressing things in life such as collecting rare Pokemon cards (gotta catch ‘em all) and passing grade school math. A few more years went by, and she had all but forgotten her childhood daydream — until the advent of a foreign university talk that somehow jumpstarted her memory. Thus, reassured with the blessing of her mother and the grudging consent of her father, she set out to apply.
Several long and insufferable months later, the dreaded results of her local and foreign university applications arrived, bearing good tidings… and a cause for much debate. The young girl had found herself at a crossroads — certainly common to most college-bound adolescents — and immensely confused as to where to go...
Well, to end this embarrassing attempt at omniscient narration, you might have figured out by now that I decided to stick it out here. I have my dad to thank for playing a huge part in my decision. Without his ambushing me at the breakfast table and bribing me with the near-rhyme, “If you don’t go abroad, I’ll buy you a dog,” I probably wouldn’t be here right now. In sweltering hot Manila. Where I am enjoying myself, actually.
Of course, the question of “what if?” has never been far from my mind. And so, when my mom presented me with the opportunity of visiting the US and my almost-future-school/s this summer, I happily jumped at the chance.
There were two universities I applied for in the US: both on the east coast, one private and located in the city, the other state-run and conveniently stationed in the middle of nowhere. Incidentally, I had coerced a friend of mine into applying for that particular state university — which she did decide to attend (but not without letting me know that my status as “awesome buddy” was downgraded to “unforgivable traitor”), and where I subsequently went to pay her a visit.
I’m not sure how aptly I can describe the university grounds to anyone reading this, so to start things off, let me just say that if the school campus were a living, breathing entity — it could have easily eaten the town where it was located. I mean, there’s a grazing area the size of at least three Sunken Gardens, for crying out loud — strictly for the barn animals, of course. Further on in you’ll see the normal sights of any functional university: the dormitories, various colleges, administration buildings, Araneta Coliseum-sized gym, shining red windmills, Loch Ness monster-esque lake, creepy gothic cemeteries…
It was an assault on my sense of proportion (as well as on my poor, aching legs). In any case, for such a large university, it was surprisingly well-kept. I imagine that the immaculately-cut grass, neatly cemented sidewalks, and colorful array of flowers must have dissuaded students from littering. Who would want to sully such a nice, clean view? Of course, all admiration about the cleanliness of the place was immediately forgotten upon our arrival at the university bookstore. There wasn’t anything special about the establishment, really. It was just a store that sold books, had leather couches for loitering, and stocked a lot of awesome sociology textbooks… and then some. I was quite prepared to spend the night leafing through every interesting book in that small shop (to stock up on as much knowledge as I could, you know, since I couldn’t just buy it; I needed to eat), except these places have closing hours. Nuts.
Thankfully, lights don’t go off in the dormitory, and it was here where I met my friend’s friends, answered questions about the Philippines, watched reruns of Aladdin, listened to an impromptu piano recital, and observed in amusement as they huddled together for a late-night physics cramming session — all while various parties were being raged outside for no other reason than it being a weekend in spring. My friend and I went to sleep just after 3 a.m., sardined in a bed clearly meant for one.
It was only a few hours later, when, after her exam, my anguished trips to their eerie, communal bathroom, and a whole-day tour around the sprawling campus — my uncle picked us up (she was to stay at our place for the weekend), and I waved goodbye (forever?) to one of my almost-future-schools.
* * *
I remember something an aunt of mine (and a former UP undergrad) told me before I entered college. She said (fondly) that after UP, everywhere else would seem like some amazingly modern construct of humanity. Which is quite true; I found myself gaping like an idiot at the mere sight of the Ateneo cafeteria, and the same reaction (times 10) applied to my visit in this foreign university. It was interesting to see what college life was like in another country, and I only wished I could have sat in a class, or at least discussed “serious” academic/political views with the people there… even if the students were mostly made up of conservative white kids. After all, despite it being in the middle of nowhere, it was actually a pretty well-funded research university. Another time, another place, maybe.
As for the question of regrets about deciding not to study there, I’d be lying if I said I had none. Going beyond the four walls of my own school has shown me the better facilities and amazing opportunities to be had at a mere state university — simply one among many in the US. It’s made me realize just how far behind we really are — and how massively depressing the gap to fill has become. Ultimately though, my time in UP has proven to be a rewarding experience so far, since, despite the ever-present danger of it falling apart at any moment (just kidding), it’s got the brilliant people — students, professors, fishball vendors, Xerox ladies, guards — to make up for it.
But still, properly using the people’s taxes to make the country’s premier state university actually competitive would be pretty nice. I’m just saying.