One Tuesday afternoon in March, I was seated in the al fresco area of this tea shop in Baguio overlooking a sea of trees. I glanced at my itinerary for that day, and realized I still had a lot of things to do – visit this museum, do a bit of shopping, try a dish at a local restaurant, etc.
It was still early in the afternoon, so I figured I’d have enough time to do all the things I set out to do for that day. In the meantime, I was determined to just revel in my one big cup of afternoon tea while taking in the glory of the scenery before me. Instantaneously, I started giggling to myself. I shook my head feeling like an absolute fangirl – there I was enjoying my favourite drink in my favourite Philippine tea shop scribbling on my planner that was made by that very same tea shop.
“Oh, you’re using that planner,” a man two tables down gestured towards my doodle-infested planner-slash-journal. I was puzzled by this man’s interest in something as trivial as, well, me owning a planner. It turned out he works for the company that produces the planners. Since this guy and I were not friends, and the only common thing between us was our loyalty to the tea shop brand, I figured our conversation wouldn’t last long. But I was wrong.
That afternoon, while keeping our distance two tables apart, we covered a whole range of topics from our preferences in music to our commitment to the work that we do to what it would take to show the people in our lives that we love and appreciate them. He quipped in a few jokes that got us both laughing. Then, we talked some more. What I thought would be an afternoon of inner musings with myself turned into a delightful time with an absolute stranger. It genuinely felt like being with a long-time friend.
It has been two months since I spent that afternoon with the guy and when I remember that time, my heart swells like a balloon. I feel good knowing that I have room for growth in my life. I am saying this in the context of relationships. I admit to having a tendency of being uptight, and it scares me to engage in small talk with people I don’t know or I’m not close to yet. I easily get rattled when strangers in queues suddenly ask me what time it is, or if someone by the sidewalk stops me to ask for directions, or if public transport drivers start interviewing me to pass the time during long commutes.
I admit that I have had a season in the past when I told myself that I’ve reached my quota when it comes to establishing relationships. I remember telling myself then, “You already have enough people in your life. They’re not so many but they’re more than enough.” After telling myself that, when I felt like people made efforts to get close to me and build a friendship, I would be crippled with fear and I wouldn’t reciprocate. Yes, it was quite a strange season, I have to confess. There I was, in the position of being the recipient of people’s love and affection, but instead of stretching my arms wide open and embracing the love, I clammed myself shut. Back then, certain relationships have fizzled out and some even ended devastatingly, so out of bitterness, I resolved to not enjoying certain sparks of connection I felt with new faces around me. I didn’t see the point of randomly connecting with someone once but never being able to keep that connection. I was tainted with cynicism then.
A lot has changed since then, of course. Sure, I still haven’t won the award for Miss Congeniality, but at least, I’ve learned to loosen up. I have started building my faith in humanity again. I no longer adhered to my paranoia that every stranger who dares engage me is but a thief, murderer or somebody generally harmful. I figured it wouldn’t hurt at all to give a bit of myself to people I may come across only once in this life.
In the few years I’ve spent traveling alone, I am blessed to have been able to create friendships along the way and keeping them up to this day. A friendship did not bloom from that afternoon tea time with the stranger in Baguio, but it’s okay. It’s perfect that way. Through that guy, I learned a lot about myself. I realized that I am capable of sincerely giving and taking without having to be scared of losing. I realized that certain moments I create with strangers can touch me as much as the ones I have with friends and family. And sometimes, we, and the people we cross paths with are just better as strangers.
