It was at Ghana, on the 29th of December 2009, and everyone who came looked fab and gorgeous. After ten years, it was high school all over again. The Moffats, Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls, and No Doubt were blasting from the speakers. On the wide screen were videos and pictures of wide-eyed teens in uniforms and socks and black shoes. Of classrooms and sports fields and bonsais. There was a copy of the black yearbook right at the registration booth and all you needed to do was flip the pages to remember the bittersweet days of high school – Shakespeare and Chemistry experiments, prom dresses and cheering competitions, tempura and slushy fruit shakes. The pangs of disprized love. Of Romeos and Juliets. Ah. It was sweet high school at the Little School House all over again and for a few seconds you are transfixed.
Buy you find that something else transfixes you. Almost everyone you knew during their zit days and bad hair days and puberty days are suddenly right in front of you, dressed in lovely cocktail dresses, sporting sky-high stiletto heels, or wearing dapper collared shirts. Of course they were lovely back then, but looking at them now, you realize how time makes everything more beautiful. Gone are the awkwardness, sloped shoulders, slouched backs, unsure smiles. You are actually shaking hands and making beso with lawyers, artists, doctors, nurses, investors, chefs, successful entrepreneurs – young urban professionals, all. Trading jokes with people who have found their places under the sun, sharing tables with those you literally grew up with, squabbled, chatted, and cheated with, but people nevertheless who knew you ten years ago and are still interested in knowing you better, now. Nothing could be sweeter and you wish these sort of things happened every year. Just for the sheer fun of it.
The food was great and an unlimited bar opened right after the program, rambunctious laughter included, was over. Margaritas, Bailey’s, beer, and tequilas — everything was neon lights and alcohol, dancing and conversations straining to be heard over loud music.
So here are some of the best pics. Some are from my camera, while a few were taken by the official photographers for the event. I was wearing a strapless number, 3-inch heels, and dark eyes, but in my heart of hearts, I am sixteen all over again, laughing and posing for pictures with my bosom best friends, knowing that these things are the very things that keep us young.
The night had been magical, at the very least. :}