Belgian withdrawal syndrome

Part I
10:24 AM 3/14/05


It has been two months and six days since the day I last lifted off my feet from the grounds of Belgium. Considerably, it has been quite a long time already and yet here I am, still afflicted with what I shall hereinafter call the Belgian Withdrawal Syndrome - a phrase coined by Marcky, a Filipino friend and fellow-VLIR scholar who I met while in Brussels.

Starting Over

I was quite fortunate to not go back to work immediately after landing in Manila, as my university observes the traditional mandatory Christmas season leave for all of its employees. That gave me two full weeks' worth of story telling and, well...flooding tears. Not even done sorting my things yet, I went away for the holidays and devoted my fourteen days in two provinces outside Manila accordingly: first half for Christmas, the other for the New Year celebration. Somehow, I was half-grateful for not having the extra excuse to wallow and just enjoy the company of my loved ones - who I also missed sorely for three months. I must admit that that getaway was a huge, welcome break for me.

Fast-forward to two weeks later.

Heavy-laden with almost seven kilograms of sweets meant as pasalubong (i.e., Filipino term for the word 'token') for co-workers and friends, I knew this is reality. NO MORE HOLIDAYS FOR ME. That after giving these stuffs away, it would mean heading back to my overwhelming desk and start burrowing through my three-month old pile of workload. Have I done "real" work since then? If only my blank stares meant telekinesis, maybe I would have been productive and accomplished plenty.

One by one, everything was falling back into place - the old routines, old set of office clothes and bags (which goes with what?), pending appointments (where did I place this and that for who?), my thesis proposal left hanging (I know I saved my work somewhere, now where is it?), etcetera, etcetera. It was like learning how to walk again for the first time after ninety days. My remarkable lateness on my first month back is reason enough to put me in the Philippine statistics of the unemployed. That did not last long, though. On the fortnight of my second month (coincidentally, on valentine's day - not that I made the timing for the occasion really, but February 14th happens to be a Monday), I rebounded back into the punctuality business again. And so far, it has been good.

Part II
11:05 AM 5/20/05

On to withdrawal

Had my friends been impatient with me, for sure I would be knocked down with my face flat on the ground by now, begging for more patience (and mercy?) for my endless ranting about Belgium and Europe.

And now it has been five months to date, nearly half a year ago since that tear-jerking moment. Time really has this amazing effect on me, when yesterday seems like not too long ago. In a way I can safely say that yes, I have withdrawn from my Belgian attachments, but not totally though. In all fairness, this is good enough for me. It was quite an effort to hold back the emotions, when recounting my Belgian memoirs (laugh a little, cry bucketfuls). Ironically, this came as a surprise for me because honestly, I am not the clingy type...Or maybe I am. But for whatever its worth, for Christine, this is called progress.

Crossing Over

Sometimes I psychoanalyze myself whether or not I have really regained back my momentum, as manifested by my daily activities. Biases are inevitable of course, due to this enormous tendency to justify things only to appease one. Maybe I am just romanticizing everything? Could be.

As I studied myself, I realized that there is no room for regrets for me after all. I may have tasted Europe only for just a quarter, but hey, not everyone had such a blast even in just a very short span of time. It is truly refreshing to always relive that fateful day when I first learned about my acceptance to the this Belgian scholarship, and finally seeing my European life-long dream unfolding before me. The friendships and everything that came along with the goody bag are just bonuses. This is one meek, indelible blessing that I will forever cherish for as long as I can see the rising and setting of the glorious sun in my life.


I'm done wallowing now. No more Part III for this essay.