I had left the school five years ago, but joining these ex-colleagues for lunch didn’t feel as awkward as I might have thought. It seemed like time had stood still as I assimilated into their group like a missing puzzle piece, picking up their threads of conversation. Some things never change, I thought to myself as I observed a couple of them animatedly sharing the same topics that had interested them  five years ago. But in this case, this constancy was comforting. I think it reinforced my impression that I did have a whale of a time at Naval Base Pri. That my rosy-tinted view of my stint wasn’t coloured by my nostalgia, but was instead rooted in authenticity.