Night in the Jungle

I was an RA in college. During one of our pointlessly long meetings, some administrator stood on stage and said, "these are the best days of your lives."
With horror I turned to the RA next to me and found the same terror written across her face as she whispered, "If that's true, I'm screwed!"
Amen.
We need to stop telling people "these are the best days of your life" because it translates to "throw yourself under a bus tomorrow. You've peaked. It's over."
There is life after college, high school, whatever it is you're clinging to now.

It's a big world out there and by my reckoning, I'm way behind schedule if I'm going to see it all. I do not relish the idea of normal life and am even now plotting the great escape.
Sitting here in an air conditioned room in a city known for rain, I think of the hot, humid jungle and all the stories that haven't been told. I'll never tell them all. But some will pop up every now and again, when I consider blogging about women in fanny packs or salad dressing, and my mind wanders to the times every day holds a new, tangible story. Like the night I rode back from BDA on the roof...

Roof riding was normal, but we weren't allowed to do it at night. So going to the deaf academy that Wednesday night, we crammed ourselves inside and dealt with the close quarters over bouncy roads.
It was our last night with the students and there was a lot of goofing off mixed with intense conversation. It was a good last night, the kind that goes like it's meant to. Goodbyes took forever. As I understand it, long goodbyes are normal in deaf culture. Throw a bunch of Filipino and American teenagers into the mix and, well, you're going to be there awhile.
The team slowly piled into the jeepney. Once they were clambering about inside, I slipped along the side and settled in on top.
Our leader had told me to ride back on the roof the night I talked about my love affair with the stars. It was a long drive that wound from more populated areas of the island back to our hilltop in the jungle. The whole time I lay flat on the roof, watching the sky. The clouds were dramatic, but remained on the fringes for awhile before coming in to haze my view of those piercingly bright stars. The big dipper was tilted onto its side, spilling out whatever rests in the bowl of its spoon.
We entered the barrio and the jungle closed in around us. Despite the groanings of the jeepney, there was a silence that reigned as we passed under the canopy of palms. The trees were uplit by the headlights, and they leaned over me with a grim sort of stare as they allowed us to pass. Bats fluttered a few feet above us, hovering while I stayed still, watching and wondering how close they would dare come.
The dirve was roughly an hour and by the time we arrived at the house, I was ready to stay where I was for the night. But the drivers had to go home, so I came down. I was pretty disoriented when I got to my feet again, and caught up in a sort of reverie. I wanted the silence, the stars, the still night, even the bats. Did it have to end?
The jeepney headed off back down the hill and the team walked to the dorms. I gave the sky one last look before I heard a sort of growl from some nearby bushes. I took the hint and quickly walked away, leaving this story to its own end.