Do not rock the boat! Essay
Do not rock the boat!
Everybody has there own prospective on what a best friend is, from someone that makes them laugh, to simply somebody that just listens to their problems. In my eyes a best friend is a real friend, someone you can count on, someone that is always there for you when you need them the most. And that makes them a best friend in my book. Trying to find one is a different story. I have had my fair share of bad friendships they had me fooled that they were always there for me when all they had were bad intentions. At that point I had given up on the idea that there was someone in this world that I can trust, somebody that I can be myself around. Was I asking for too much? That all changed on September 11, 2010 at Kearny high school, in Ms. Cooks first period English class. It was quite a small room so it was very noticeable when someone walked thru those blue doors into the crowded room. One by one, I studied each new fresh faces walking into the class.Each facial expression sharing a nervous, curios, but exiting look. About twenty minutes after the late bell rang (that girl was always late to everything) a dark skinned, Indian looking, Mexican about 6’2 in height walked into the classroom.
Her long wavy jet-black hair caught my attention first, then her bright brown oval eyes, thick bone structure, and her big bright blue Jansport backpack she was caring in her right hand. I have not seen a backpack that large since fifth grade and for a second, I thought we where back in Elementary school. To make my description about her more clear she looked like a thicker and taller version of Pocahontas. One of the Disney princesses I grew up watching as a little kid. Her name is Jocelyn Guzman-Diaz, a corny, full of life, girl that just moved from Oregon to San Diego, California to get closer to her father. Spring Break weekend of 2010, at Camp Managuay was the coldest weekend I ever had to endure. Cold rainy days, tree roaring nights, the smell of burning oak roasting in the fire pits, the feel of the ash against your face, and the sound embrassing of all the JROTC cadets tan combat boots crunching the crisp frozen grass to wake up to every morning, in our Camo uniforms. As cold and unpleasant as that sounds, that weekend was the best weekend I have ever had with my best friend.
With tons of and tummy hurting laughter moments we had along the way. Jocelyn and I got selected to go to camp Managuay, a woodsy campsite located about two hours away from Mesa college with our JROTC instructors and about eighty or so cadets. We arrived in a whale looking tour bus. It dropped us off in front of a huge dark green pine tree with blue tent sacks sped out on the dirt. We would stay up till one, two, even three in the morning laying in our cold hard tent cracking jokes knowing we would have to wake up at six o’ clock in the morning. I remember this specific moment where the instructors marched us down to the Managuay Lake to go canoeing. The wide, open enchanting lake felt as if I was in wonderland. We all took turns grabbing a bright yellow banana looking canoe. One by one canoes started plopping in the freezing water. Jocelyn is the most careless person in the world when it comes to following instructions and the first rule she breaks is DO NOT ROCK THE BOAT!
She is in her boat singing and swaying her long wavy hair back and fourth. Then all of a sudden she swayed too far to the left and her met the water and the canoe met her head. I broke down In laughter. The more I looked at her the harder I laughed. It felt like I was going have a giggle attack! That moment had our trip. We forgot all about those cold, wintery, nights and the dirty, rough, uneven, tent floors. I chose to write about this day because despite the harsh conditions that we were faced with we made the best of it and had fun with it. We did not care how people were looking at us or how strange they thought we were because we were having the best time.