My path through higher education, like my career, and my life, was not a straight one. After graduating high school, I meandered through community college classes while working at coffee shops and restaurants to afford whatever room I happened to be renting at the time. I had always been good at school, but I had no idea what I wanted to do at the time. And as fate would have it, I still don’t. Back then, I just knew I didn’t want to keep working at coffee shops and restaurants.
When I had finally, painstakingly, racked up enough credits to transfer to a four year university, I ended up at UCSD. Which meant I needed to move from Oakland to San Diego. There was no way I could afford on campus housing, so I went to Craigslist on a wing and a prayer. After a lot of searching and stress I ended up at a suburb close to campus. The two story bland manilla house was completely indistinguishable from those neighboring it.
It had four bedrooms total. One that I would rent, and another that was taken by Sally. She was also a transfer student and moved in at the same time. Another was occupied by Mundy, I honestly can’t remember if that was his last name or a nickname now. He was a kind of patriarch of the house whose entire persona exuded that of a frat house reject. The biggest room belonged to him, as he had been at the house the longest and paid the most rent. He had already graduated and was working an entry level corporate job by the time that I showed up. But he wasn’t yet ready to stop playing beer pong every weekend, so he just kind of kept sticking around. He would stay until Sally and I graduated two years later and the house disbanded.
Like a guest appearance on each new season of a sitcom, the last room ended up being rented by a different student each semester. One such guest star was Fabrice, a foreign exchange student from Lyon visiting for one semester to improve his English. He had messy hair and bright blue eyes. Armed with an unflappably positive attitude, earnest outlook, and lust for life, it was impossible not to like him immediately. He would make coffee every morning and say things to me like, You can’t leave a cleaning rag on the floor of the kitchen. I’m French! It’s too messy for me.
Sally and I ended up becoming fast friends. We were both studying science. I was majoring in chemistry and she was majoring in biology. We bonded as we spend a lot of time studying and even more time partying together. She was also a gifted artist. One of her drawings was the design for my first ever tattoo. She loved animals deeply, including the lab rats she rescued and brought home from her part time job.
We both liked to cook. When I think of her in the house I think of her cooking. She would follow the handwritten recipes she had brought with her to make the most amazing meals for the house. There was always a rice cooker going on the counter. She introduced me to the best Korean food brands when we would go grocery shopping together. I am most indebted to her because taught me how to make instant ramen into a proper meal by adding a poached egg and some veggies, as simple as a handful of raw spinach. After graduation, we kept in loose contact over the years, as these things tend to go.
Fast forward to February of 2023. I was between jobs, a period of my life that would end up stretching a year. I referred to it as “funemployment” while my husband took to calling me less and less affectionately as time stretched on as a “Nini” (ni trabaja ni estudia, a person that neither works nor studies).
He needed to go to Portugal for job training and I tagged along since I didn’t have anything better to do. February is a shitty time to visit Europe by any standard but I decided to be brave and go on vacation for five weeks despite the cold. I made a loose itinerary to visit some countries I had always wanted to go to and never had. I traveled mostly by train. It was more expensive and took longer but it seemed like the kind of thing I would have done during a gap year or study abroad experience that I never had.
At some point during the trip Sally saw the stories I was posting and reached out. She was going to be in Paris and did I want to come? It was such a pleasant surprise to hear form her. So I changed my itinerary to go to Paris for the last few days of my trip. I had not kept in touch with Fabrice, but luckily she had. He now lived in Paris and was as successful and charming as ever. We met for dinner at a place selected between the two of them. I was in good hands between a local and a hardcore foodie. We ate and drank and told each other in broad strokes the story of the last decade or so of our lives.
It was an interesting experience, reconnecting with old friends. These are people I had once spent every day with. Back then, it would have been impossible to hide our daily moods from each other as we went through the ups of downs of college life. And for me, if I’m being honest, because I majored in chemistry, it was mostly downs. We were the main characters in each other’s lives. With graduation we all abruptly switched to minor characters that had faded and gone about the business of making our own choices, our own way in the world. We may not have as much in common now. Maybe we never did. We just happened to end up in the same place, at least twice in our lives.
And what a sweet delight, to see them again after all this time. Such a simple pleasure. This encounter meant more to me than seeing the Louvre or Eiffel tower ever could. It illuminated for me what travel could be in the best possible sense. I spend so much of my time looking to the future. Waiting for what is new and what is next. Wanting to discover and explore. This is not inherently bad, but it is also my own personal favorite flavor of escapism.
My good fortune upon receiving that message and crossing paths with my old friends helped me understand the value of traveling to connect. And it helped me to appreciate the improbability of each of us making it back to one another. Somehow, we had all survived through the obstacles, burdens, and joys of life. The major ups and downs, but also the monotony of daily life. I was grateful for them, and for everything it takes to make it all the way through to the reward of the present moment.
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