Bestfriend JS

Do you remember the first time I saw you? It was a chilly November afternoon in 1998 in a sporting good store in Ulsan, South Korea. I was there checking out shoes and bags when I saw you together with other bags hanging in one corner of the store. I know instantly that I want to have you. I really have to have you. Was it love at first sight? I really don’t know.

After haggling with the saleslady, I walked out of the store feeling happy and satisfied with you strapped on my back. We spent our first day together strolling around downtown Ulsan and stuffed you with a lot of things that fancies me. I had given you your name JS (for JanSport), the two letters embossed in your zipper’s tag.

In my 6 years of roaming around the world, my only constant companion is you. You were there strapped on my back while we strolled the malls of Biloxi, Mississippi and Alabama, screaming with glee while riding the roller coaster and cyclone loop of Jazzland Theme park of Louisiana years before hurricane Katrina, strolling around Universal Studios in Hollywood, riding BART and blending with a lot of other nationalities in Downtown San Francisco, marvel in the huge cathedrals of Barcelona and Tarragona in Spain, haggling with salesladies in the flea markets of Singapore, Mexico, Argentina and even in the hot Arabian climate of Dubai, sipping cold beer in the humid afternoon at the aplaya of Puerto la Cruz, Venezuela while watching lovely Venezuelan ladies in very short shorts playing in the beach. Almost everywhere I go, you’re always there with me.

I’ve been so attached to you that whenever I ride a car, I always have you there on my lap, hugging you. You seem to give me comfort, assuring me that wherever I go, whatever happens, you will always be there for me. Like when I had my emergency repatriation after I had the news about Nonoy’s death. By just hugging you, I feel consoled.

How can I forget the day that I decided to leave the ship and find new adventures in Japan? You were with me stuffed with 3 shirts, underwear, emergency medicines and toiletries. I can still remember that day. The day that I experienced fear, excitement, worry, nervousness and paranoia like I never had before. In that 4 hours of ride with the bullet train from Osaka to Tokyo, my heart never ceased to pound like it was going to burst. But then again, you were there on my lap, giving me the silent comfort and assurance that everything would be alright.

It's not only adventures and emotions that we share, you have proven yourself not just a constant companion but a very good and never complaining friend. You always hold important things for me, my bento box, my cigarettes, my mp3 player, my passport and documents and my working clothes. You never ever complain even if I let you soak in the rain, leave you under the heat of the sun, spill you with beer and wash you seldom.

I was never aware of your importance until I saw the signs of deterioration; maybe I call it aging (?). Your fiber starts to fall out, your zipper won’t close anymore, the color of your leather bottom starts to fade. And I think I have to replace you with a new bag.

I know it’s hard to let you go. With all those things that we’ve been through, it’s just hard to be separated from you. You served me in any way that you could, my constant companion, my comforter and my best friend. Even if I replaced you with a new one, you will always be my best friend like no other bag can be.

For now, I will let you have your retirement. And I promise that when I go back home, I will give you the reward that you deserve. I’m going to put you in a frame and hang you where everyone can see you. Showing them how grateful I am for having you and being a part of my life for 7 short years.

Thank you for everything. Thank you for being my best friend.