Monday, January 7, 2008
new year
i was awakened by my mom's voice. she was somewhat irritated. she had been preparing for media noche the whole morning. i got up from my bed at mid noon. the sunlight seemed to miss me so much, it just had to let itself in the window. sauna. amidst the smell of the ham and sounds the kalderos made, i couldn't find anything better to do. i switched on the tv and found myself drowning in radiation after 6 hours of watching hbo. it was 6:30. my mom had been talking on and on about how i manage not to help in preparing the house to welcome 2008. i never really liked the idea of cooking, cleaning up and fixing the house. i thought i was on vacation. that's what i like to think. too bad for my mom. i turned the volume up; i was desperately trying to drown her voice. finally, it was time to go to church. we ate dinner. i was the last to leave the door. yep, late for church again. i was sitting next to our 1994 tamaraw fx, our neighbors were having a street party. they closed the road with a piece of bamboo and a sign that said "slow down, men at work". i was mumbling to myself - 'why the hell would they have a fucking street party when in a few hours firecrackers would be exploding in front of them?' so much for little laughs. the kids and some drunken dads were merrily dancing to the tune of 'beautiful girl". my parents were waving at our neighbors. they'd win as mayor of our town if they'll keep being themselves. the streets were quieter as compared to the previous years that i can remember.
i could hear the priest saying some things. my brain was glued to my shoes. i shouldn't have worn those flats with my white long-sleeved shirt. it was a disaster. the sermon could be summed up in two words, government and family. it was not as enlightening as i had hoped. fast forward, to half past 10, we were eating at the dining table. the food was good. it was like restaurant food. all too commercial. i wanted to eat ginat-an and pinamarhan nga isda. that's not my family's idea of media noche. i opened a bottle of wine and whiled away time at the terrace. wine glass in one hand and a piece of ham glued to a fork in the other. i stared up at the skies. no stars tonight. they'll all be covered by the smoke of fireworks. my friends were texting new year greetings. i replied with a little sarcasm, littler jokes, and littlest insults. i sipped the last drop of wine that bottle offered. it tasted bad actually, i just had to drown myself in wine since i couldn't smoke there, couldn't drink that bottle of red horse. i missed iloilo. funny actually, it's not my home but it's a different feeling when i go back to this city. its a happy, excited feeling. i shouldn't be feeling this way but i do. its not my hometown. but i guess, this city is where i grew up. the people i have come to know, the thing i've experienced here have, in fact, molded me to become the person that i am now. i will always look back to antique because my family's there... i value the freedom that i have living in the city and the extravagant lifestyle i indulge in. i don't know, maybe. i guess, i've changed. is it good or bad? or both? i will know. that morning i woke up early, i had to go on duty at iph in pototan. my mom greeted me with a simple "hard drinker ka gid ya". my parents drove me to pototan. yep, they'll go the mile just to help me finish my scrubs. i thought, 'what else is new?' i scored my last handle that night. it was 11:00 when we left the hospital. we waited for 30 minutes for any mode of transportation that could take us back to the civilization. i was overwhelmed with the excitement of an awaiting cozy bed. finally, we decided to hitch with a truck driver. there were only two seats inside; one for the truck driver and passenger seat. there were five of us. we sat comfortably on the plywood that covered the supposedly, back seat. we talked with the driver and his friend. my clinical instructor (small lady, big heart) my classmate, (little person, pretty face) and me (big person, yeah, that's it) . i got to my apartment. i was tired, hungry for cigarettes and longing for someone to talk to. it was then i realized, i couldn't live in the city but i can't stay in antique with my parents. i was lost. i was lonely. i called home. talked to my mom and sister and i felt great. i realized i can't be me without antique. there ain't no place like home. with that, comes a new year, to discover and rediscover. happy new year to me.
i could hear the priest saying some things. my brain was glued to my shoes. i shouldn't have worn those flats with my white long-sleeved shirt. it was a disaster. the sermon could be summed up in two words, government and family. it was not as enlightening as i had hoped. fast forward, to half past 10, we were eating at the dining table. the food was good. it was like restaurant food. all too commercial. i wanted to eat ginat-an and pinamarhan nga isda. that's not my family's idea of media noche. i opened a bottle of wine and whiled away time at the terrace. wine glass in one hand and a piece of ham glued to a fork in the other. i stared up at the skies. no stars tonight. they'll all be covered by the smoke of fireworks. my friends were texting new year greetings. i replied with a little sarcasm, littler jokes, and littlest insults. i sipped the last drop of wine that bottle offered. it tasted bad actually, i just had to drown myself in wine since i couldn't smoke there, couldn't drink that bottle of red horse. i missed iloilo. funny actually, it's not my home but it's a different feeling when i go back to this city. its a happy, excited feeling. i shouldn't be feeling this way but i do. its not my hometown. but i guess, this city is where i grew up. the people i have come to know, the thing i've experienced here have, in fact, molded me to become the person that i am now. i will always look back to antique because my family's there... i value the freedom that i have living in the city and the extravagant lifestyle i indulge in. i don't know, maybe. i guess, i've changed. is it good or bad? or both? i will know. that morning i woke up early, i had to go on duty at iph in pototan. my mom greeted me with a simple "hard drinker ka gid ya". my parents drove me to pototan. yep, they'll go the mile just to help me finish my scrubs. i thought, 'what else is new?' i scored my last handle that night. it was 11:00 when we left the hospital. we waited for 30 minutes for any mode of transportation that could take us back to the civilization. i was overwhelmed with the excitement of an awaiting cozy bed. finally, we decided to hitch with a truck driver. there were only two seats inside; one for the truck driver and passenger seat. there were five of us. we sat comfortably on the plywood that covered the supposedly, back seat. we talked with the driver and his friend. my clinical instructor (small lady, big heart) my classmate, (little person, pretty face) and me (big person, yeah, that's it) . i got to my apartment. i was tired, hungry for cigarettes and longing for someone to talk to. it was then i realized, i couldn't live in the city but i can't stay in antique with my parents. i was lost. i was lonely. i called home. talked to my mom and sister and i felt great. i realized i can't be me without antique. there ain't no place like home. with that, comes a new year, to discover and rediscover. happy new year to me.
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