Laughing hard to hide a bitter sadness

I flew back to Chengdu for my high school's 20th reunion. Of the 360 students in my graduating class, more than one third showed up. Most I had not seen for 20 years and had a hard time remembering. It was embarrassing but also a source of rapturous laughter once the identities were revealed.

The reunion ran in style. We formally signed in and then were seated in a banquet hall. Three MCs guided us through the long list of agenda items - teachers spoke, student representatives spoke, MCs recited cheesy poems, we watched a video montage of old photos, and every class was asked to perform. The routine resembled our high school annual variety show so much that it made me somewhat melancholic, for the once unruly boys had lost hair and gained weight, and the once timid girls had wrinkles crawling next to their lustrous eyes.

Lunch ended with the guys endlessly toasting tables with baijiu (alcohol). A few puked in the bathrooms. Outside the banquet room, we took endless group photos. Afterwards, we broke into smaller rooms for tea. An old friend, a professional musician, played the guitar while we sang songs that had long slipped into the "oldies" category at KTV.

Then we went around updating the circle of our past 20 years. Most had become entrepreneurs - selling insurance, gold investments or real estate. Some looked like they were making their fortunes, others appeared to be struggling.

We all said how we missed our high school years - caring teachers, loving friends, and innocent times. David, visiting all the way from the US, said his life had gone downhill ever since high school. Everyone nodded. I felt dizzy from too much alcohol during lunch.

I joined Jason for a smoke outside. Jason and I had been close ever since high school. I had witnessed his many romantic longings and listened to his ups and downs with his ex-wife who had been his college sweetheart.

"How is Jenny then?" I asked about his ex-wife.