Recently, I’ve been finding myself reliving a high school memory fondly. In one of my English classes, part of our impromptu speeches was the question: “If you could stay one age forever, what would it be?”
I believe I answered 25. The 15-year-old me assumed I would have gained proper independence, wisdom, and maturity by then. Big kudos to my younger self for her optimism and confidence.
My actual 25th birthday marked the official start of my efforts to move to Australia. It was the last birthday I spent with my mom and little brother in person, as they both flew to Brisbane a week after to join my dad. Before the year ended, I was lucky enough to get a job with a company that would sponsor my move to Sydney. I then started the painfully long process of securing a visa and spent more bittersweet moments with my friends and relatives. Then, finally, moved to a new country two months into 2019.
For my 26th birthday, I decided to go snowboarding. It’s an activity thrilling enough to distract me from the fact that I was away from all my favorite people. I booked my entire weekend off to hit the slopes at Snowy Mountains. It was a fun weekend, full of new experiences. At that point, I honestly thought of making snowboarding a hobby and going more frequently throughout the next winter. I finally felt like I was adjusting to the idea that Australia was my new home.
Then 2020 happened. It was nothing but a whirlwind of events. The pandemic and government restrictions threw the thought of celebrating my birthday in the snow and all other travel plans I had queued in the trash. Going to a PREP concert with friends? Cancelled. Touring New Zealand for all their Lord Of The Rings attractions? Cancelled.
I was ready to settle for my birthday’s plan B, which meant flying to Brisbane to visit my family. I still had to postpone my trip due to the second outbreak spreading from Melbourne. Long-term goal planning has never been my forte and I guess by the way things are progressing, it never will be.
It’s already the day before my birthday and I still haven’t decided what to do. I had half a mind to skip celebrations this year altogether and write it off as another 2020 casualty. Personally, I was happy to just visit my favorite, and usual tourist choice, Bondi Beach. Find a spot on the sand—properly distanced from other people—and watch the sunset, preferably with a beer in hand.
I suddenly found myself recalling what I missed from the pre-lockdown period and what I enjoyed doing since and planned my weekend according to that. I set out for a quick trip to Bondi Beach on the morning of August 22nd, attempting to walk 8 kilometers to my newly found favorite spot to chill: The Gap. I managed to walk almost halfway there until my knees resisted any further movements. I put my mask on again and felt for my hand sanitizer in my bag in preparation for taking the bus that would take me to my destination.
Reaching home that day, I realized as I came out of months in lockdown that I miss some social interactions. I definitely did not want to be seen as irresponsible nor likened to Debold Sinas, the Philippine National Police Chief officer who had a big birthday blowout while the entire country was in lockdown.
So I made the government-required reservation for the recommended number of people at a bar with arcades (considering those that don’t drink) in a less busy area of another favorite suburb, Newtown. Before the night ended, I was genuinely surprised by the good amount of people that RSVP-ed “yes” and finally, after a while, looked forward to the simple celebrations we had ahead of us.
That same night, we got to celebrate three birthdays and do one sendoff, because we have to make the most out of our outdoor ventures and get-togethers as much as we can now.
On the 23rd, I woke up to warm messages and greetings from loved ones—aka the best way to start the day. Then I was surprised by friends who decided to take me to Luna Park, a small yet iconic amusement park in northern Sydney. Thinking of the number of people falling in line and forgetting about social distancing had be worrying the second we stepped into the park grounds.
Luckily, the staff was attentive and made sure that rules were followed while still being their usual friendly, approachable selves. The short, two-and-a-half hour experience was literally a roller coaster of emotions—I was ecstatic to be going on rides again, afraid for my life when the rides didn’t seem safe enough (or when people came into close proximity) and was immediately relieved to finally be on flat ground again where I can social distance. I got disappointed when I failed to win a prize after several chances at booths, and really thankful for all the staff members cleaning each ride and attraction after every wave of people coming in.
Looking back, I only have fond memories of amusement parks. Like the time I welcomed my teenage years by taking one family member with me at a time to ride Enchanted Kingdom’s Space Shuttle at least five times, back-to-back. I hope my love for amusement parks is something I never outgrow.
To cap off my birthday, I had all my drinks paid for by other people—a big contrast to the Filipino tradition of the celebrant cashing out and treating everyone else. What touched me most was the bar owner, giving me a glass on the house for taking 10 paying people into his place. This is not an unusual feat but considering how slow the business became since the pandemic, he was thankful for a good night. I absolutely long for the days Enmore theater would hold concerts again and Newtown would be back to its vibrant self, bustling with live music scenes, full bars, and restaurants at every corner.
It was a tiring weekend. I don’t remember the last time I was out for two consecutive days, visiting new places and meeting people. I don’t think I will be doing this again in the near future since cases are still popping up from community transmission. I recognize the majority’s effort of considering people’s safety but I personally feel this is something we should learn as a whole, as our safety depends on how considerate we are of each other.
If I were to meet my 15-year-old self, I would tell her that she was right to believe 25 was a good age to be immortalized in, even if each year after that is just as worth celebrating as the last.
✺ Photos by Janice Concepcion
No comments