Traveling opens massive possibilities: both enlightening and heartbreaking. “Reading these stories, it’s tempting to think that the arts to be learned are those of tracking, hunting, navigating, skills of survival and escape. Even in the everyday world of the present, an anxiety to survive manifests itself in cars and clothes for far more rugged occasions than those at hand, as though to express some sense of the toughness of things and of readiness to face them. But the real difficulties, the real arts of survival, seem to lie in more subtle realms. There, what’s called for is a kind of […]
On our way to Mantalongon, the habal-habal (motorbike) suddenly wobbled. We stopped. A flat tire. “Asa ang pinakaduol na vulcanizing shop, dire, bay?” the driver asked the guy idling in the waiting shed. “Sa unahan, bay.” In Cebu, around the bend takes thirty minutes or so. It unexpectedly rained, so we sought shelter at the nearby store while waiting for the driver to return. Two old men advised us to wait til the rain ebbed since they could tell it was raining hard in Barili by just looking at the mist-covered mountains. While we were waiting, an outraged old woman arrived […]
Bojo River: The Beauty of the Hole But then it is perhaps in the nature of coming away on a trip such as this that one is prompted towards such surprising new perspectives on topics one imagined one had long ago thought through thoroughly. —Kazuo Ishiguro, The Remains of the Day Why do I travel? Because my mind finds home, happiness in restlessness. It functions better when the physical is in transit. A friend pointed out with all the places I traveled, I might be the richest among his circle. I used to think traveling is for the privileged and […]
MUSING A curve can be a camouflage belying what is ahead. A curve can be a threat, alarming one it is a cliff racing to infinity. A curve can be an appetizer, making one long for more. A road curve can be a signal, telling it is a new town yet again, it is Boljoon.