Written by: Mariah Pauline Poblete

Reviewed by: Ronan De Guia

I never asked to be a part of this. This event they call Orcomlympics where they play different games with teams of their own batch. One minute I was in the comfort of my own home, surrounded by my kind, and the next, I’m being flicked by the fingers of competitiveness and bouncing on the floor. I enter the auditorium, look around — a sea of green, yellow, red, and blue talking amongst itself. Turns out the green I wore did not come with a gold membership card that guarantees my belongingness.

The colors began to cheer for their own: Freshmen green, Sophomore yellow, Junior red, and Senior blue.  I was stunned by the surreal sight of the UP spirit in motion for the first time, but I still didn’t feel at home. I never asked to be a part of this.

I started to envy them. They looked so at home with each other, like they’ve known each other for years (well, at least in the case of the juniors and seniors, they really did). I didn’t know how to fit in. Maybe because I wasn’t meant to fit in?

The first game, the Calamansi relay, began. When I learned the mechanics, there was one thing I was sure of: This was my game, my expertise, and my moment. The game was simple, players needed to spin 10 times, run to the bottle and flick the Calamansi off of it, without toppling it. No one could beat my precision and bouncing luck when the victory was on the line.

After the first game, I felt at home, knowing I was the reason why my fellow green teammates cheered, laughed, and brought out their competitive selves. No longer a player in the other games, the Tumbang Preso, ID Finding during the Sack Race, and the Bato-bato-pick Relay, I realized that I wasn’t meant to play to be the MVP, I played to break the ice. To create a small crack on the tough and serious facade we all held up at first.

Maybe this is an overstatement of my purpose in this event. Maybe, a calamansi as small as I am, did not actually bring this kind of joy and laughter to the event. Maybe, I was just finding warmth in a city filled with cold responsibilities and blood-draining reality.

But at the moment, being as new as the freshmen that played, I just felt like I was one of them, a college student navigating his first year in a new environment with the support of their Ates and Kuyas. I felt like I was at a Christmas party slash reunion of our family, in other words, a home away from home where a community encourages me to grow at my own pace.

Who was I to speak like I’m one of them? I am just a Calamansi, who witnessed a gathering of people who felt like family; strangers who fought like cousins battling for the last slice, strategized like siblings trying to get out of trouble, and parents who felt happy seeing their children win. 

I never asked to be a part of this. I was just a tiny calamansi used during the first game. I’m not even an official member of OrComSoc. But somewhere between the cheers, laughs, and competitiveness, I felt like I belonged.

And that’s the thing about family, you don’t choose them. They choose you.