Some time ago, in Baywalk, Roxas Boulevard, these metal statues were a picture of a happy family. Unfortunately, the wholeness seemed to have faded away as each of them loses a limb with every tick of the present clock.
In here, you won’t see anyone walking in the streets alone. Everybody is always strolling within a group. A group that we call ‘family’.
And these groups create wonderful photographs. A little boy grabbing his mother’s hand towards a toy store. A girl trying to climb her father’s back. A father kissing his wife.
These heartwarming photographs should cost millions. Sights that are so touching that you won’t even notice that the people lack something. Hence the name of our town.
To tell you the truth, all of these are just compliance to the law. The law that is being implemented by our king. The law states that people should go out with their families at all times. Why? This is to ensure that people in our land show an image of wholeness, a picture of being complete. Something that we cannot achieve on our own. Something that we cannot portray alone… here in the Land of No Limbs.
This post had also been posted by the author to another blog named “Nimotsu Counter.” To access it, kindly click here.
“Uwi” is the Filipino term for going home. So when one says “Uuwi na ako,” he or she means “I’m going home.”
Since I went to college, I am always looking forward to going home. A text to my mom saying “Uuwi po ako” is like a combination of adrenaline rush and a sigh of relief: adrenaline from excitement to breathe fresh air again and relief from all the worries of the urban world. In short, there would be no other place in the world that could give this kind of peacefulness except for home.
But recently, I discovered another meaning for “Uuwi na ako”. It’s something still related to home.
This post had been transferred by the author to another blog named “Nimotsu Counter.” To know what I discovered about the words, “Uuwi na ako,” kindly click here.
The sun was up. The sand was warm. The water was excited to hit the shore.
A hammock was swaying in between two coconut trees. It carried in it five children, laughing loudly as the cool breeze hit their faces. Another four were standing near the tree, shouting to have their turn on the hammock. And Caloy was one of them.
The screaming and begging of the kids were halted when Auntie Beth called for lunch. The boy next to Caloy said, “Let’s race to the picnic table!” And off the children went, but not Caloy. Once the hammock was vacated, he saw this as an opportunity to ride in the hammock, solo. But as soon as he sat in it, the rope connecting it to the trees snapped and he fell to the ground. Auntie Beth saw this. But instead of helping him stand up, she said angrily, “Is that how an honor student acts?! You know that five had already been on it and you know that the rope is not strong enough. But still you sat on it. Didn’t you realize that? Look what happened to you! You are an honor student, you should have known better! And… didn’t I tell you to come and eat?”
This post had been transferred by the author to another blog named “Nimotsu Counter.” To continue reading about Caloy, kindly click here.