Back to Back

Wanting to take a break from the mundanities of home life, I tugged my cousins along to the colorful city of San Carlos. It too us nearly five different tricycle rides to tour the city. The most amusing about it was that the rides were pimped out to the nines. And by pimped out, I mean skeletal motorcycles decorated with neon lights as the side cars boomed with blaring bass. Much like Manila, nothing in the city was every idle. Here, the equivalent of the MRT are buses waiting to be filled with passengers.

Strange how the most casual of things here can feel so liberating. Normally, I wouldn't eat street food right off the street but I was thrilled to try San Carlos' version of kwek-kwek. The local delicacy are made with eggs, then coated with flour and deep fried to orange perfection. I found it odd that instead of mini quail eggs, the city’s version was made with a regular-sized hard-boiled egg. I thought about how I could eat the entire thing in one bite until I saw how they actually ate it- sliced and doused in a sea of sweet sauce. Though I was initially grossed out by the service, it was just amusing to try something new. The amusement of eating street food left me wanting to have more even though I was on the brink of vomiting my last serving. (Plus, another source of amusement: watching a pink sky set over a football game.)

Bad Blood

The title is totally irrelevant but it was playing during a 30-minute drive to a little pottery stand by the road in Panuolan, San Carlos. The very interesting trip gave me a chance to witness how pots and jars come to be from a little slab of clay.

You can breathe

A thirty-minute drive from San Carlos City would take you to the small town of Calatrava in Negros Occidental. Two years ago, this place served as my residence as I studied for my college entrance tests. Seeing how much has happened between then and now, it felt soothing to return to the same environment. It was calming to know that some things remain constant despite having gone severe changes. I took a break from the spontaneity brought by life in the city and returned to my roots. As they say, “looking back is a requisite of moving forward.”

Having slept for only a few hours, I don't know what prompted me to start the day so early. It was only a few minutes past five yet the sun seemed just as eager to begin with the day. I thought I'd woken up straight into a photo as saturated tones of orange peeked through my glass windows. I could hear the roosters greeting me with a good morning, something I didn't get to hear so often. Life here was just slow, and it made me realize how much of a breather it was to have such pacing outside the hustle and bustle of the metro. Impulse here was thinking I could bike around as soon as the I pedaled my way on what I jokingly call "the road to sexy" as I try to get back in shape, having already eaten so much during my stay. The road here was no competition. I shared the road with a few early risers, some goats (yes, goats), and avoided every dog as my fear of getting chased resurfaced with every stray in sight. 

My biking led me to the shore not far from the house. From the dock's mouth, I proceeded to walk until the end as I feared falling off again. (Years ago, I slipped and fell off the same dock and thought it was going to be the end of me.) As I walked, I encountered a local who greeted me with a smile.  For a few minutes, all I could hear was the crashing of waves into the rocky dock, with barely any murmurs in the background. I stayed alone with my thoughts and left before it got too sentimental. Plus, my cycling shorts were too short and I simply had to change before going for another round.

I don't know what fueled me to write since I've only begun to appreciate how people combine these words coherently. I suddenly woke up at dawn and thought, "right now, I want to write." And all the words just came pouring. Maybe it's the pressure that came with my blog's new look, wanting to accompany it with better content?