The hands of Ang Suga | Moalboal, Cebu, Philippines “Te Jo, paita gyud diay aning atong kinabuhi,” said Wang. We were sitting on the shore, with my thoughts being carried away by the waves and reached the ranges of Negros. However, other serious matters occupied Wang. “Tan-awa, magsuwat ko,” he said and drew a line on the sand. Not later than five seconds, the waves claimed the line. I kept on staring at the place where the line was once. Stared. Stared. And his point sank in my feverous head.
Salagdoong Forest Reserve, Salagdoong, Siquijor, Philippines On our way to Salagdoong beach, the trees canopy the road. With the running tricycle accompanying the silence of the trees, I couldn’t help but ask Manong to pull over.
“Adunay duha ka lalaki sa imong kinabuhi (You’ll have two partners in your life),” said the security guard/palm reader. It was forty minutes past one, and we were waiting for the first trip back to the city.
San Juanico Bridge, Leyte, Philippines We made a mountain out of a molehill. Tourism is no skin-deep, it is light; hence, it is fun. Some dig tourism since they want to escape from their immediate lives and responsibilities and seek refuge from the not-so-familiar.