“Okay ra ka diha, ‘te Jo?!” (Are you okay there, ‘te Jo?!) Ice’s voice was almost drowned in the cacophony of rain, thunder, and rushing water inside my tent. “Di!” (No!) I was holding the poles of the tent, preventing it from flying away. The wind hammered against it to no end. Again, lightning struck. It illuminated the slanted poles and the sagging fly for a split second. Like the tent, I shrank, hoping the lightning could not find us. Then, a thunderous roar filled the small space inside.
San Jose, Antique, Philippines In-transit stories filled our way to Valderamma, Antique. An old man held the book This is My Story like his life depends on it. A woman in her late 20s held her sleeping baby against her chest while her eyes wandered outside the window. A fish vendor asked the boy about the fish. She argued the price was higher than the usual. The boy didn’t even know he was talking to a fish vendor. Three fish buckets graced the aisle of the jeepney off to Valderrama—to pay homage to Mt. Igcoron. I miss the laughter and […]
What gives value to travel is fear. It is the fact that, at a certain moment, when we are so far from our own [place] we are seized by a vague fear, and an instinctive desire to go back to the protection of old habits. —Albert Camus, Notebooks Distance, memories, I often consider them as one entity. There is a gap, space between the present and the past, and we often reconcile them through memories. A long travel―though physically draining―is a mind exercise. It allows the mind to remember, revisit, reconstruct, reaffirm memories. Distancing One’s Self Philippines’ scattering islands and […]