Hurry
We expect those we love to show us, by their actions, the depth and complexity of their inner world, not the broad practicalities of their material situation.
—Love in the Time of Migration, Randy David
An hour before we leave, I still have my things unpacked. I don’t know what to write, how to bid adieu to Olongapo. Mama is biting her nails now, worrying that I might have gone somewhere so as to miss the trip. I don’t want to miss the trip, what I don’t want is to miss the opportunity to reveal my secrets to a friend. I never had the courage to do that but now. Some kind of courage a migrant can depend on, as when it knows it can get away with the probability of an unwanted child after a good, irresponsible fuck. So I am here in my favorite internet shop, to tell her everything in a hurry. After all, I’ll be gone for some time, away from the claws of responsibility to such a bold action, away from her further scrutiny, away from a backlash of words. I though it will feel better, but after a while, I just realized how coward I was all along, how coward I am up to now. I opt to fly against the rush of the wind. But I guess I can’t tell you why at this juncture. Time is not my friend today, I better tender my valediction.
There is nothing in Olongapo I will miss but a handful of friends, and this particular seat at this particular internet shop. Needless to say, I will miss chatting. They say, technology has yet to reach our province, that in order to connect with the world, I have to take a one-hour ride to the city, which I won’t do anyways. I need to miss it, and be missed. Mushy is at stake, there is no contact whatsoever, we will rely with spiritual communication.
Yesterday while my mom is packing her things, I saw a bayong beside her traveling bag. You know what kind of bayong I’m talking about, just imagine Caridad Sanches and her movies. We are not going to drag that with us, I told her. If you think it looks funny then I won’t ask you to carry it, she replied with a neutral voice. When I think of it now, I see her as a shining example of humility. She can afford to get better, fancier things, but she stick to her nature. Simple and practical, a mark of a genuine probinsyana. Tantamount to that of Ka-Bel, he can afford to hire a carpenter to fix the roof but…
I love my mom, I love her probinsyana tendency. Apart from the serenity of Leyte, I hope to find friendships there from people of the same frugal nature. Leyte will serve a break from the clichés and monotony of the city, it will serve me a boundless inspiration to write. To meditate about life.
Ciao. Catch you all soon. I will tell you my stories as soon as I get back to cyber life.
