I have no friends...

For the past few days, Hong Kong has been reveling in Chinese New Year. Seeing the celebration for the first time as a “local”, I must say that the vibe is similar to that of Christmas back home. During the days leading to the Lunar New Year, the country’s “friendlier side” appears.

All around me, people were celebrating friendship. There would be groups of them having their photos taken in one of the hundred cherry blossom trees that mushroomed around the country. Some would be buying inflatable what-nots in the New Year’s Fair in Victoria Park. Still others would be lining up outside that popular sushi restaurant along Granville, chatting animatedly to while away the time.

Surrounded by so much joy and friendship, I had an epiphany. It was like a scroll falling from the sky and unraveling a message engraved in gold. The message read: “I have no friends in Hong Kong.”

After living here for more than half a year, I stopped to count how many people would fit in my definition of “friends.” And really, there is none. Nada. Zero. Zilch. Zip.

A revelation of this magnitude usually deserves one of two reactions. One, the token hug and pat on the back followed by a comforting voice saying: “don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright.” Two, someone stamps the word “Loser” on my forehead and parades me around town while thousands of cretins point their fingers and laugh.

The good news is, I don’t need a pat on the back or a stamp on my forehead. This current state of “Friendlessness” is more of a choice rather than a consequence.

Grace, a friend who’s also in a foreign posting, and I once had a spirited discussion on living abroad and making friends. It was the usual “OFW talk” on homesickness and lack of people to talk to. My question to her that time was: “why don’t you go out and make new friends?” Being in a new country, this would be the perfect opportunity to widen her social circle.

Her answer was simple. Her answer was: “I don’t need new friends here because I’m happy with the ones I have back home.”

On the surface, that statement felt a bit stubborn and so anti-social. “Who wouldn’t want new friends?” was the thought that kept on regurgitating in my mind. Once again, Shash’s oft-repeated quote became relevant. She said: “You can never have too many friends, just like you can never have too many black and brown shoes.”

Add to that, I can’t imagine Grace not wanting to make new friends. She is, after all, Miss Congeniality back in Manila. She has a built-in “UP radar” and could spot an alumnus 1500 meters away. She would always make the first step and say: “You’re from UP, diba?” She could always chat them up like long, lost chums.

In essence, that’s what I’ve been trying to do here for the past 7 odd months. After dusting off my own “UP radar” (which isn’t too trusty, anyway) and adding the supplementary “Pinoy radar” which is in use during my trips to Europe and the Americas, I’ve been on a continuous quest for new and renewed friends.

(N.B. As it turns out, the “Pinoy radar” is completely useless here because one is likely to bump into a fellow Filipino at any given time of the day, and at every nook and cranny of Hong Kong.)

This quest was not for naught. I’ve met a lot of really swell people here. For starters, my colleagues are really nice folks. We hang out during lunchtime and talk about our homes, families and the requisite bitching about work. We travel on the same wavelength, which always helps. Funny, but I even missed them during my 4-week stay in Manila during the holidays.

Then there are the long lost acquaintances who, after decades of not seeing one another, I bumped into here. Like Tanya, who was my co-business manager for our college yearbook. In my record book, she’s the catalyst to my living in Hong Kong.

There’s Glenda, a province-mate who found it hard to believe that man standing in front of her was the short, pudgy runt who’d hang out in their house in Malinao, Albay.

There’s Mr. X (sorry, I forgot his name, which is really, really bad of me) who sat beside me in church. After we exchanged signs of peace, I realized we were in the same battalion in UP ROTC, prompting a 10-minute walk down memory lane.

These people, along with a handful of others, are people I’ve had the good fortune of meeting and interacting with. But as Kris Aquino once said: “Just because magkakilala kayo, suddenly friends na kayo?”

While it is harsh, and as much as it pains me to attribute words of wisdom to Kris, what she said is true. There’s this notion that once you’ve met a person, made a few interactions, you become friends. And this really isn’t the case if you take a long, hard look at it.

For me, friends are people who are worth more than a handshake and a casual conversation every now and then. They are people that I seek out and want to be with every so often. My heart aches and yearns for them whenever months pass without any contact. My heart jumps whenever I receive an email from them – even if it’s some forwarded wish that will cause me great misfortune if I don’t pass it on to 15 people within the next 30 minutes.

Friends are people who I spent defining moments of my life with. Like when Emin celebrated her 18th birthday and we all holed up in one suite after, walking from Hotel Intercon to Dunkin’ Donuts in our cotillion outfit. That was my first “adult slumber party” and it’s an event that will forever be etched in my subconscious.

Friends are people who we share joyous moments of our lives with. Like spending Christmas with Shash and Melvin in PGH and having an impromptu Noche Buena celebration to welcome Justine into the world. Or staying in the same hotel as Maricar’s on her wedding day, join them for breakfast and check out her wedding suite the morning after. Or having a joint birthday party with Grace year in and year out.

Friends are people who’d go the extra, extra, extra mile just so I’d be able to fulfill my sincerest wish. Like Kin and Elsie who pooled their money together so I can buy my ticket to Europe and leave the same day. And of course, Maricar who gladly drove me around to collect the money, give it to the travel agent, and grab the ticket.

Friends are people I’d like to surprise every now and then. Like D’ Frendz’s home-makeover-birthday-bonanza for Alfie, which required me to sit through an earthquake and still remain calm. (Now that was surprising!) Or my often unscheduled visits to Sir Conrad, Minnie, Jojo, Joji and Liane.

Friends are people who I still feel connected to, even if we don’t see each other in years. Like X’tine who I met in California after not seeing each other for 5 years or so. The moment we saw each other, there was no awkward silence or animosity. We just picked up where we left off, and suddenly started speaking the same language again. Or Tine and Emin who, despite the 3-year gaps in our meet-ups, talk to me like we were with each other yesterday. Or Joannah, who's been in Singapore for about 5 years now. Despite the distance and lack of frequency of our conversations, each time we talk or text, or see each other, it feels like a familiar tete-a-tete at the Newsbreak studio back in SMC.

Friends are people I’ve grew up with, who saw me at my best and at my worst, and still rode out each and every wave with me. Like Prichy who’s seen me transform from an irresponsible student to a semi-responsible professor, yet still thought I was deserving to be part of her family as Paolo’s ninong. Or Kuya Ers who saw me get promoted from a temperamental copywriter to an even more temperamental ACD, yet he still worked alongside me in 3 agencies. Or Fiesta, who I must commend. Because despite all my follies and failures, she still calls me her friend.

I could go on and on and on and on with this, and it’ll probably take me 3 weeks, 5 days, 18 hours, 36 minutes and 23 seconds to stop. This is precisely the reason why I don’t have any friends in Hong Kong. I can’t imagine sharing my life with anyone here the way I’ve been sharing my life with my friends back home.

Better yet, I’d rather share my life with my friends back home than share it with anyone here.

Upon writing that statement, I’m reminded of my advice to Grace during that chat. “Be open. Try something new. Start Fresh. Give yourself a chance to make new friends.” Yes, this is the proverbial “you’ll eat your own words” moment, and I’ll be brave enough to admit that: “chomp, chomp, chomp, mmmm… my own words don’t taste that bad. In fact, it tastes like chicken!”

“Be open.” Let me state for the record that I AM open to making new and lasting friendships here. The thing is, whilst my heart is open, it’s also filled to an estimated 97% capacity. Filled with all those wonderful memories, voices, faces and experiences that I’ve accumulated from my family and friends throughout the years.

“Try something new.” Yes, I do try something new everyday here. More often than not, that “something” is a pair of jeans. But really, I’ve tried a lot of new things and tried meeting a lot of new people. The thing is, the “something new” pales in comparison when it’s placed beside “something familiar” i.e. my friends back home. Yes, it’s unfair to compare, but as Reese Witherspoon said in a movie: “You can’t help it. You just can’t.”

“Start Fresh.” Fresh is a tricky word. People automatically equate “fresh” to “brand new.” But fresh can also mean something old through new eyes, ergo the phrase “fresh perspective.” I’m a work in progress, and so are my friends. Everyday, there’s something new happening in our lives. Wena sent an email about her first Christmas as a newlywed and what a new experience it is. That story really cracked me up, just as it did every member of D’ Frendz. It was great not just because it was funny, but because it allowed us to see a different facet of Wena. A new facet, at that. So rather than “starting fresh”, I’d rather “start looking at my friends with a fresh perspective.”

“Give yourself a chance to make new friends.” Heck, I did, and the people here are in no way near the kind of friends I have back home. It must be the fact that you’re in a different country that people don’t act as “normal” as they usually would. People here don’t look for friends, they look for benchmarks or players in the game of “one-upmanship.” Yes, this might be a hasty generalization, but it’s one that I’m not taking the time out to disprove.

Call me stubborn. Call me anti-social. Call me a jean-hoarding-son-of-Edgar. (Wait a minute, I AM a jean-hoarding-son-of-Edgar!) But at this point in my life, I’m more inclined to agree with Grace’s point of view on making friends.

Yes, people will find it pathetic that I meander inside malls all by my lonesome, or eat at restaurants with only a magazine to keep me company. People will find it sad that I’d rather sit in front of a computer and email my friends instead of going out to Lan Kwai Fong and make new ones. People will find it strange that the only two friends I have in Hong Kong are named Ronald McDonald and Zara. And people will find it pitiful that instead of hanging out with a group of friends doing all those wildly exciting and deliriously happy “friend things,” I’d rather spend my time alone.

Yes, they may be right. But then again, it’s during these moments of being alone that make me realize one very important thing: It’s not that I have no friends here, it’s just that I have so many wonderful friends back home.