It’s funny how the brain, out of its need for order and structure, “compartmentalizes” our lives. You can spend five weeks in a place, working, sleeping, socializing, and otherwise maintaining the semblance of a normal life, then the second you leave that place, it all disappears into the ether. One minute you’re on a plane and still in that sort of “limbo” between lives; and then as soon as you step off the plane, everything that came before feels like it was in another life, almost as though it never really happened.
On the home stretch of the trip. Hard to believe I’ve been here almost five (!) weeks already. Despite spending most of my time here either working during the night, sleeping during the day, or running around in-between, I managed to snag a fair number of photos. Just under six thousand at last count, though of them maybe only a quarter made the cut. Still, I’m happy with those numbers.
Being back these past few weeks has been a bit of an experience for me. Some of the things, I expected; the thrill of seeing old friends again, the nostalgia of revisiting my old haunts, the surprise to see how much everything had changed. What I hadn’t expected, however, was how much I’d realized I’ve missed this place.
In all the years I lived in the Philippines, I’d never been to Boracay—considered by many to be one of the most beautiful beaches in the Philippines. Between the airfare to get there and the cost of lodging and food for your stay (plus other things), I never really had the money for it.
As though in testament to just how small Manila really is and how bizarrely interconnected Manileños tend to be, the brother-in-law of my good friend and stalwart traveling companion, Iñigo, is running for president.
Of the Philippines.
One thing I’d forgotten about the Philippines is that many people—especially the masa, those below the poverty line—aren’t self-conscious about staring. In fact many will continue to do it even after you meet their gaze (which is usually the point where even the most brazen starer will turn away).
Today presented an interesting situational dichotomy as I spent it hanging out with different friends. In the morning, I met up with a good friend of mine, Iñigo (in whose spare bedroom I’m crashing while in Manila) and some of his friends for lunch. We ate at a nice upscale Japanese restaurant before retiring to one of the friends’ houses for sangrias.
Day One of my trip is officially over, and I think I’m no less thrown for a loop for it. Partly because, as expected, the landscape has changed so dramatically in the last decade, but more because I have. I’ve been gone so long, I’ve forgotten all about what it’s like to live here.
A little over an hour or so until we reach NAIA; part of me still hasn’t fully grasped that I’m on my way home. I know it, of course, the same way you know that the childhood home you revisit isn’t going to be a hundred feet tall. But you don’t really know it until you actually see it and your brain finally puts it all together.
Tomorrow begins my sojourn back to the Philippines, the first in almost a decade. Half the time, I can hardly believe it.
As much as I hate the term “Developing Nation” (there’s nothing wrong with calling it a Third World Country), the moniker is incredibly apt. Metro Manila has been developing at a near-exponential rate, and in the past nine years, the topography of the cities has changed drastically. It will be a homecoming to an unfamiliar place.
