I used to write a lot back in high school. As an editor-in-chief of our school paper and associate editor of our church publication, writing, to me, is not just a requirement. It is not just a commitment to fulfill the roles and duties of the post. It is to me, my very soul translated into visible images in the form of words, phrases and sentences. I write a lot (or used to) about even the most simple, nonsense mundane things, thoughts and feelings in my journal or in my electronic, MS Word format diary. Writing gives me a different feeling. It takes me into a different dimension, into a world where, no matter how simple the words were written only I can truly understand – my thoughts, feelings, emotions and ideas.

I created a blog – thrice! But I never took time to maintain any of those. I was too busy, or rather felt or thought I was too busy to write. I also felt I suddenly lost my writing style. I was so envious of my friends, my bestfriend Marinel in particular, on how good they have become as writers. But, when I went to the university and pursued my undergraduate and master’s degree, I was too preoccupied with term papers, reflection papers, critical analysis papers and thesis works that I got too engrossed into the technical and academic style of writing. I departed from my freestyle-type of writing features materials and simple news articles, but I love it! I love the feeling of writing in an academic and technical style as I became more inspired by the authors of book articles and reading materials handed over to us by our professors. It makes you feel very intellectual, I thought.

Over the years, as I work on projects in the social development sector, I am becoming more passionate about writing proposals, grants, project briefings and the like. I feel good about my craft! All the hard labor, all the long sleepless nights and no-“gimik”-Saturdays or weekend night outs back in college and graduate school are slowly paying off. I can see the fruits of my tedious cut-throat training back when I was still a student slowly bearing. I feel satisfied seeing and knowing that I am able to apply my skills and knowledge into my work and that writing an academic and technical papers show how mature I have grown with my craft. More importantly, I felt extremely happy and excited when Sir Tony asked me to co-write a book article with him that will be published by the university this year.

Then one day, I got an email from Atlas Corps and One World Youth Project that I am to go to Washington DC for a fellowship training and work to learn the best practices of the US non-profit sectors. GREAT! I can improve all my skills, particularly technical writing, during the training, I told myself.

So I flew to DC. At first I was so excited to be in a new place. I am excited about the fact that I get to stay, live and work abroad for more than my usual two-to-three-weeks trips abroad. The first week was so busy and fun, but after several days, homesickness started to take over me. I was feeling extremely emotionally sick, like a dry well in the desert and a barren wasteland that misses the rain.

God, I was in a flight! I tried to escape the loneliness living in a foreign land where the only faces you meet everyday are those of strangers, like blank walls without any image or life in them. I tried to make friends but my mind was set that I will not stay here for more than a year, thus an effort to do such would be futile. I can make friends but not deep relationships with those that I meet. Friends back home are always better. I tried to come up with ideas on how to divert my attention to other things. I stayed up until three in the morning finishing off work from my last project in the Philippines that I still have to accomplish (by the way) and I constantly called my family and Joseph until my phone card minutes would run out or until my neighbor shuts off his wireless internet connection that I regularly leech at night just to be able to connect to Skype for free call. However, they were only helpful to the point that these activities tire me out ‘til I fall asleep. They made me forget about homesickness and how I badly miss mama’s Adobo and Kare-Kare, my brother’s mess in his room that I regularly tidy up and Joseph’s gentle voice that calms me down whenever I’m stressed at work (or to be more accurate, the 3-to-4-hour commute going to work). But it only cures the symptoms; it doesn’t really solve the issue.

On September 17, I went to New York with my colleagues for three missions – meet with Isabelle of UN Alliance of Civilizations and attend the International Day of Peace at the UN HQ as well as meet with Jeffrey Sach’s team at the Earth Institute in Columbia University.

Richie and Jay, two of my friends back in college happened to be in New York. Richie was doing rotation (an internship-type of immersion program) for his med school together with his sister Jacky (who happens to be my friend and senior in a school organization back in college – I only found out they were siblings when I went there and stayed with them by the way. Comment to self — Great Tieza! It took four year before you realized they were siblings). Jay was in his last semester in grad school in Fordham. When Richie and Jay found out via Facebook that I am bound to NYC, they immediately messaged me and I was offered a place to stay.

Thursday night was set for Jay, Richie and I to meet and have dinner at Serendipity Restaurant. Finally, friends! Friday became more interesting as I also met three other Ateneans – Peter, Ariel and Mel – who are in the same program that Jay is taking up. Good! More familiar people! Then it occurred to me… Back in college, I never went out with Jay or Jacky on a weekend. At least for Richie, there were few times when we went out together but that was with other friends. Ariel was in my batch in college but I never knew he existed (and I thought I knew half of the population of the university!). Same goes with Mel and Peter. But in New York, we went out at night, had fun at the festival in Little Italy and at the bar, went to Times Square and Ground Zero and tired ourselves out. I asked Jacky and Richie when we were taking photos at Time Square, “When we were in Ateneo, did you guys ever imagine we would see each other in New York and hang out together?”

What happened to us in New York was unimaginable back in college as each of us had separate barkadas and friends, living separate college lives. Yes, we were friends but we were not that close and the only moments we would hang out together are when there are organization activities or team-buildings. But never in our wildest imagination that being miles away from home would bring us closer together in one of the busiest, craziest and fast-paced cosmopolitans in the world.

The NYC trip was a retreat for me. It also made me realize and value two important things:

• You do not realize the value and importance of the person you meet until you are brought together by fate or circumstance; especially in a place where only you and the other person could both understand the life away from the usual comfort zone. Sometimes, the people you take for granted or used to have no time for would end up to be your best ally in times when you feel threatened or a link that will reconnect you to your roots
• Old friends are gold and they are truly the best, but you will never know when the new ones are gold too until you give it a chance

Similarly, the process of writing is like reconnecting with old friends and finding new ones. The techniques do not matter as to having friends being listed under the “old” and “new” categories don’t. It does not matter whether you feel more comfortable with your new style or with the old style. What is important is the process of doing it, the process of jotting down your thoughts, writing them in phrases until they complete a paragraph and a great written masterpiece. And regardless of whether you have forgotten about your old style or not, part of your “old” skill still remains; that no matter how good you have become at being a technical or academic writer, when you feel you need to write a simple blog or a journal entry to pour out your thoughts and feelings, you will still be able to find your old magic trick. Friends are like that. There are new finds and there are some like old toys forgotten on the top shelf gathering dust. Most of us are able to find new friends. We get very excited about the acquaintance. When a relationship has been established, we will feel drawn into relating with the people we meet on a more personal level. A new comfort zone has been made. The old one is still there, forgotten, but not entirely lost. But then again, when you see familiar faces, when you have previously had a connection with these people in the past, no matter how strong your relationship has become with the new acquaintances, you will realize that the old ones are not lost. They are strengthened.

That has been me for the first month of living in DC. I was too scared to make friends because I fear the day that I might be too comfortable with the new ones, just like I have become too comfortable with my new writing style for the past years. I was too scared to lose connections with my family and friends back home, scared I might no longer be the same person that I was before I decided to embark on a new journey to a foreign land. I was frightened by the thought of not being able to write a blog entry that would not bore my readers because of the development and academic jargons I might put. But when my fingers touched the keypads of my laptop, when I began writing my first blog as an Atlas Corps fellow, I suddenly realized, hey, I still have my magic! Not a single technical jargon is written here. It’s just me, the real Tieza pouring her soul out.

Thank you Jay, Richie and Jacky, for the experience in New York! More than just enjoying the scene at Times Square, the fiesta at Little Italy, Richie’s Japanese Chicken Curry and the crazy subway-bus station marathon we did so I won’t miss the bus, I had a great experience of sharing a wonderful friendship with you. Yes, I am still crying at night, missing my family and all the folks back home. I am still missing Mama’s Adobo and Kare-Kare and my brother’s messy room. But I am no longer afraid to make new friends because I believe that one day, one of them would be travelling with me to a far-flung province in Tibet or to the Eternal City of Rome.