Archive for 2008

Our new home is only heated by a fireplace on the first floor. The rest of the house is heated through a pipe system embedded inside the thick walls. The trouble to find firewood in our area was such a headscratcher. Not only that it doesn't get too cold in our region during winter, houses with chimneys are all for aesthetic purposes. So they either don't sell it by stacks or the price is unbelievable. My in-laws get a cubic meter of wood for 35€, all nicely cut & clean. Yes, they live in a cold region of France. With the crazy weather these days, we settled to get them the easiest way. They delivered it today, the truck backed up in front of our house, dumping all the wood, 2 cubic meters of them, on the floor. I looked at all the wood with dismay. They were cut in a weird way, some might even come with a dwarf *knocking on wood* Our first fire

So we started sorting & piling them when an old man passed by & sparked a conversation with, "Those are not good firewood at all." My husband & I laughed & said we obviously know that. Then he informed us that our neighbor, the one across, just passed away recently. I truly felt sad hearing it. That explains her closed windows for a couple of days now. She was 90. I've seen her a lot of times from our kitchen window since we moved in just 2 months ago. She would sit on her chair under the sun, or feed her black cat & the old man did say she had a turtle in the garden. Eversince my dad passed away, I don't feel the same way about death as I used to.

Then I twinged remembering the time we moved to Carry le Rouet 7 years ago. A couple of months after moving in, our neighbor's husband passed away. He was about 50-60+ looking at his widow. I remember it clearly because we heard about it after the funeral & we didn't know how to deal with it since we really just moved in. It's a strange & creepy coincidence but mostly we get the old people as neighbors. It's really not a good way to move in a new place like this, is it? We'll be moving again in a year or two. Who wants to be our neighbors?

Ok, no smarty pants with scary ideas. I won't be able to look out my kitchen window for now.

One day, the husband & I were speaking about the few but significant differences between Marseille & Nice. I started with how convenient having Marignane Airport so close & easy to reach, IKEA being on the way. On how great it is to have a train station within walking distance, but there's always the thing about living in a touristic area. After 7 years of a tourist-laden home, I was ready to retreat to the mountains. Spéracèdes church in the tiny centre ville.

I was telling the husband how Nice & Cannes are way more going to be uncomfortably flooding with tourists than in Carry le Rouet or Marseille. Adding that tourists will be more international compared to the local ones in our old place. I continued telling him that already our neighbors seem to be Belgians & he did mention that our other neighbor three houses down the street is German. Then, with a long pause as if to break a bad news, the husband then tells me, "But you are a Filipina." I sigh.

After being reminded that I am indeed a tourist to the eyes of everybody & after all the comparisons, which are a handful to me, moving in is not just about packing & leaving, unpacking & putting things in place. It is about knowing where you are & where things are. It is all about feeling "at home."

Just around a week after moving in, I woke up with a panic. In my head I was telling myself that I have again to pack & go home to Carry. Then on another morning, we had winds similar to the mistral, blowing our window shutters open as I blinked with the brightness of a sun rising by the mountains. I was pissed but in awe seeing the sun like the yellow of a fried egg just by our bedroom window. Every morning, I stay a good 5 minutes staring out by our kitchen window, to the mountains backdropped by the sky meeting the sea, down to the valley, to the home we are now slowly learning to like. The view of the sea behind the valley of Mandelieu or something by our kitchen window beside the PC table.

When the husband & I strolled around our new barrio, it felt like time rewinded to 30 years ago. Little paved streets, a brasserie as the villager's meeting spot, the post office in a small room with a nice lady behind a glass window, a small store, boulangerie & boucherie. The locals are impressively pleasant. Not too reserved & not too welcoming. What really made a difference is being able to speak French. A quick chat with the neighbor, or the woman in the dry cleaners is very comforting. The other day, I was always hoping not to bump into our neighbor's little girl. She would stop me on the road and repeatedly ask me if I can speak in english & start firing millions of questions. When moving in a small village like Spéracèdes, there is an unconscious need to follow a silent decorum not to alter the quiet life of the villagers. Below, the village's old public laundry.

Things are almost all in place in our new home except for some of my old habits. Like throwing some trash on the floor by the bathroom sink where the trashcan used to be in our old place. Subtly cursing between breaths when I can't find a place for a lot of our things. Panting most of the time going up & down the stairs especially when cleaning or even just when you forget something. But we're sure glad not to be in an apartment anymore. At first it felt weird not to hear the neighbors by the staircase, or the marching of the heels. The 7 years of residing with 7 other families in one building. Since our house is divided into three floors, the husband & I would say that we have each other as neighbors.

Le Lac Saint Cassien, just 15 minutes from Spéracèdes

Looking at the wonderful view by my kitchen window, I likewise wonder beyond this change, a new future unfolding. Nothing left behind and hoping more to add in this next chapter. After the unpacking & arranging, it's time again to live.

Receiving this old photo on my email yesterday morning made me fold my worries in 4, stuffed them in a small box pushed under the bed. 11 years doesn't seem so long but when you're living life, you hardly notice the changes. We wouldn't have imagined how we got to where we are right now 11 years ago.

But sometimes, there are changes that are impossible not to notice. In more than a month, we'll be moving to a new place, restarting a new phase in our life. Everything will be fresh & more discoveries are in order. Although I have always believed that it's just a matter of geography, as when I arrived France 8 years ago, every place is unique. You just can't help but begin anew.

When I wondered about "being home" & being somewhere else, I just can't help having that twinge in my heart for leaving this little space we grew to love for 7 years. It's not only the four corners of our apartment. It's the morning & afternoon sun. The tree by our balcony & the happy plants that adorn it. The little unnoticeable conveniences like having a parking just beside, the mailbox just in front, and having everything you need within walking distance. The sea just a few meters away. And certainly Marseille, in a weird way, is something my husband & I (especially him) just fell in love with.

Although we're moving only 2 hours away, Spéracèdes is a whole new different landscape. It is a town in the border of the Var & Alps Maritimes region, still in the Provénce-Alps-Côte d'Azur department in the south of France. Instead of the sea, we'll have a lake. Our view of the sea is replaced by the verdant mountains of the Alps, the city of Cannes & part of the sea from afar. Our apartment will become a maison de village (a typical old French house village) with 3 floors - living room on the ground floor, kitchen on the second & 2 bedrooms on the third. Rather than a hyped touristic place, we'll only have children laughing & crying from the school just beside or the sound of silence of this arriere pays, loosely translated as backcountry. When the movement is not the same as from Manila to France, it still reminded me of how it felt.

When all that is changing for us, we're also moving to another phase in my "subfertility." When I received the results of a relatively new bloodwork, the Anti-Mullerian hormone, I'm in waiting to exactly know what it really means. Even if my research gave me a rather bleak explanation of my results, I will wait for confirmation in 2 weeks for my OB appointment to exactly know where I stand. This is another realization in my life that needs more growing up to do.

11 years is long. My friends & I have gone through a lot of changes in our lives. But yesterday brought us even after almost 30 years now to come together & say "we're not doing bad at all." Because there is always good in change.

manks, thanks for this wonderful surpise

France is known for so many things. The great wines, the smelly cheeses & the Eiffel Tower. But where there's an abundance of tourists, there is somewhat a lack of courtesy when it comes to client service. I bet anybody who set foot in France experienced some kind of harsh encounter may it be in the restaurant or in the little shop of souvenirs. During my training in 2004, France was voted the worse in client service in the hotellerie sector for Europe. But to actually live here made me see that isolated moments of kindness do exist in some corners of France.

But not today.
It's August. The last leg of the holiday craze & probably half of the workforce in France is still relishing the summer heat. At 10.30, I called the real estate agency & I was answered by a woman, obviously in a hurry because she speaks a mile a minute & as if without any interest, she asks me to call back before noon. And so I did, the same woman, the same words: call back in 20 minutes, as if not giving me a chance to at least ask her some questions. I told myself that this woman will never get my name & number. The third time I called, nobody was still available to speak with me & I started to get pissed.

"Is there anybody else I can speak to?" I asked with a firmer voice. "I don't know how else I can get a hold of your colleague who handles the rents." Then in a more precise tone of impatience than the last two calls, she started to ennumerate the reasons. A lot of her colleagues are on vacation & that they are drowning with phonecalls. And still, there was no courtesy to actually tell me this nicely & ask my contacts. Isn't it afterall her job? When I started to explain that I just wanted to know if the ad was still good, she cut me by telling me to wait on the line. Now that I am fuming mad, it was another woman who apparently went back on the line. And since I was already raging mad, I was saying that it's been the third time I call, I can't get anybody that maybe it's because of my accent.

To which she replied, "Are you insinuating that we are racists? We don't really like this kind of free comments. You should first know what kind of company we are. We have employees with different nationalities ...." I stopped her by telling her that's not what I think. I explained, containing my burst of anger tears, that it's been the third time I call, there was no interest in what I need since she didn't ask for my contacts & that since they are so busy, there was no patience to give me service due to my accent, on which the other woman might have difficulty to understand, as I have difficulty to explain what I needed when the person on the other end is like tapping her fingers on the table, sighing, waiting for that pause to tell you to just call back. In the end, I did say sorry that she thinks of it that way after all her power speech.

In the first place, she even had the nerve to accuse me of calling them racist when it is not really about racism. Real estate agencies here have very little interest for rentings. We experienced this when we moved from Paris to Marseille, and in the Var region recently where agencies will give you a list of other agencies. So when a voice with an accent is inquiring about renting, there's even less interest for them. She made it sound that their company is with good standing while one of them cannot do a simple job of phone courtesy. The problem with dealing with the French in the service sector is that you are the customer, giving money but you have to beg for their simple attention to give you the service you actually do need. There's always a struggle for courtesy around here. The other day at the lab, when I asked the woman about my payment, she didn't budge a strand of her hair, as if she was lost in her own world. And I asked her twice & got a response on the third when I firmy said, "Madame!" What's worse is that you get used to it & you get all teary eyed for the very few simple courtesies extended to you, to which everybody deserves.

Believe me, I am not a difficult client at all. A difficult patient for doctors, yes but not as a client. I can even end up buying something I really don't want or need if the client service is good. You'd think that in between the bonjours & au revoirs would come a simple courtesy with their jobs. Do tell me, is France's lack of courtesy not alone?

*Thanks Kala for the great title for this post :)

"Ok, first find your exit buddy." Dory grabs on to Marlin, Crush reconfirms, "Do you have your exit buddy?" After Squirt gave out the proper exiting technique to the swirling vortex of terror, I thought I was lucky to have a buddy to go through the whirl of life's eddies. I know I am capable to extract sentimental crap from cartoons. Believe me I could cry buckets of my inner child's tears from these talking animals. I guess a lot of it comes from the gratitude of having a handful of really great friends. But today, it's about one particular buddy, going a long way back, who loves the sunsets as much as I do, while we listen to Edie singing about being by the sea.

We reach a certain age where it's sort of difficult to create the kind of friendship we have with our old friends. Some friendships take years to build, some will take petty disputes but will turn out to be one of the greatest people and some you know it's for a lifetime from the very instant you meet. But friendship is not about whom you've known the longest, it's about who came & never left.

Then through the years, you realize that great friendships are not made with being the same, or by having the constant presence of each other. Nor is it by being in total agreement all the time. In life, we'll have different friends who will be there for different reasons. Friends who will laugh your troubles away. The ones who listen with empathy even if you're breaking their ears off. Those who you are comfortable telling almost anything from the most mundane to the most classified. Friends who you know would totally support you even in craziness. Some would be the ones who are totally the opposite which could enlighten you. You have your bitching buddies. Then if you're lucky, you can have friends who can be all that. And as we grow older, we manage to mix a new world of characters, as we bumped into life, facing our own worlds. And for a moment, when you reach out, there are those who you will always pick up where you left off.

There will always be 20 toes in the sand while you watch the sunsets.
Happy birthday, dear mankie. I talked about friendship like a 6 year old.

When I was complaining about the processing of my Dual Citizenship here, a lot of people asked me why I still want to be a Filipino Citizen when I already have the French. This surprised me a bit but it never entered my mind not to be a Filipino on paper. It was only when the Philippines passed the Citizen Retention & Re-acquisition Act of 2003, or RA 9925, that I applied for the French nationality. A country recognizing Dual Citizenship is a great privilege because there are only a few countries (website not updated) who do. Left, my Certificate of Oath of Allegiance & new Philippine passport after acquiring Dual Citizenship

But my complaining was abruptly stalled & I had a chance to do it in Manila. Apparently, with all the red tape & corruption I experienced, and simply the hassle of doing paperwork in the Philippines, I have to admit that the Philippine Embassy in Paris has improved by leaps & bounds in the paperwork department. Although I didn't inquire directly for the procedure in Manila, a friend informed me that she had to hire a lawyer & the processing will be at least 6 months. This turned me off & I have to be actually grateful I had an easier option here in France.

And so finally I was able to file my application in Paris & off we went for our oathtaking. On May 23, 2008, Hazel & I went together to be a Filipino on paper. Although I thought that it was unnecessary, reciting my Oath of Allegiance to my motherland was quite moving, in front of the Philippine flag, a portrait of GMA & all. Below, Oath taking with Hazel & with Consul Rosalita S. Prospero

Today, I just received my new Philippine passport *yay!* I still have the old, non-machine readable since the embassy is finishing their stock of old passports. Which is not bad because it is more than a passport to me. It's my proof of citizenship. And besides, I still get to smile & be beautiful in a passport photo. The guy in the photo shop couldn't believe that I can smile for a passport picture. So the trouble a smile can bring is yet to be discovered.

Another issue was when a Filipino friend with an Italian citizenship asked me how I ever lost my Philippine Nationality. Since the Philippines didn't recognize Dual Citizenship until 2003, Filipinos who acquired another nationality automatically lose their Filipino citizenship. It is here that we retain or re-acquire it. The procedure is relatively new & it will improve with more years. Hopefully in a few years, the RA 9225 won't be necessary at all. That we won't automatically lose our Filipino Citizenship. We are still fortunate to have an embassy with more experience on this.

The procedure is actually easy. As long as you have your official documents with you & you don't need to have it sent from Manila, it'll be a breeze. You can call the Philippine Embassy in your area & request for an RA 9225 Application Form which is sent by mail. Requirements are normally the following:

passport size photos, any proof of Philippine Citizenship (birth certificate, old passport, voter's ID, marriage certificate indicating Philippine Citizenship), foreign passport, certificate of naturalization & its official translation, proof of payment, marriage or report of marriage if married, oath of allegiance

Remember to only submit photocopies. The embassy might request original copies to be sent. If so, you will then be asked to write a letter to the Consul why you cannot send the originals. I know such a waste of time. You will be then given an appointment for your oath taking & voila! As usual, you will always need to follow up.

The Dual Citizenship is not for everybody, so grab it if you can.
For me, being a pinoy by heart is not enough until you are on paper.

If there's one island more enchanting than the rest of the Philippines, it would be Palawan. It's like a distant paradise seemingly inaccessible but promises little corners of bliss. The Visayas area has been a more popular destination for local tourists because at first glance, Palawan is known for its luxurious islands off the mainland of El Nido. But it's a 650km tip to tip stretch, has the western & eastern side of the sea making it nature at its best. The only thing about that is it makes travelling inside the island an adventure. At very little time, we were only able to map out two towns on the western side of the archipelago: Port Barton & Sabang. The beach in the Underground River, Sabang

Being first timers of Palawan, it's hard to choose a destination while taking to consideration your transportation & your holiday mode. The island is still developing by land. There's only one main highway that stretches from south to north. Plus, we noticed how costly it is to travel around. Accomodations are surprisingly good at affordable rates. Power is also in progress. Most places do not have electricity & generators work on schedule, normally from 6am to 10am & at 6pm to 12mn.
Like any other capital, Puerto Princesa is a busy little town with so much to do. Although it has only

been our jump in & off to other locations, we're sure to be back to visit so many places in the area. What I really liked here is the cost of a tricycle ride. Anywhere to & from the busy part of Rizal Avenue will be 7 or 8php per person when taking it from the terminal, regardless you're alone or not. One driver almost had us but thanks to other honest drivers, we learned fast. We stayed a night at Puerto Pension before heading to Port Barton. Right, islands off Port Baton, children fishing for the day's lunch

Port Barton is about 150km from Puerto Princesa. There is only one bus who can bring you there: Jerry Boy. It leaves San Jose Terminal at 10am every other day & if everything goes well, arrives Port Barton at around 3pm. At 11.30, we stopped over a small canteen in Binduyan for lunch & met a Marseillais through my husband's tabac roulé (loose tabacco, diy rolling), and owner of Hibiscus Garden Inn Resort in Puerto Princesa. Lunch was a 30-45 minute stop & we continued our winding roadtrip to the north. 3 hours to the trip, it started raining hard as we exited the main road to a rough road literally with big stones. In just a couple of meters, we had to stop & the driver turned off the engine. Apparently, there was a jeepney who needed help in carrying its engine, which happen to fall off in the middle of the road. But this was not only the commotion. Below: Jerry Boy & the road to Port Barton on a rainy day, a truck already stuck

The rain had made the dirt road into sticky mud. All passengers had to go down & walk through the mud & of all the passengers, I was the most muddy making me more of a tourist than the lone French in the bus. A bit pissed off, I happily washed off in the rice paddies while my husband enjoys this spontaneous event. There were more patches of soft mud on the road but Jerry Boy, despite of sludge & close cliffs on the road, is the only way to Port Barton. This advenutre ride is worth 200php per head. All worth every cent.

We arrived Ysabelle Resort, former Swissippini Lodge & Resort, at past 5pm. Port Barton mainland is a laid back beach, a little jewel after the roadtrip to reach it. With a lot of its surrounding islands, it is known for diving. Doris is the only dive shop in Port Barton. You can never miss Easy Dive (rates on website have changed, credit cards are not accepted). With the diving boat, we were offered to take an island tour. In one of the islands, you will find Blue Cove Resort, a charming paradise with fine white sand & clear waters. They also have a trail to the top of the island for an overview of Port Barton's surrounding islands. Be sure to bring some cash when you go on island hopping because you might discover good bars & restaurants like Blue Cove. The French couple we met in Blue Cove told us that it was the show Koh-lanta (the French Survivor reality show, this year they are again in the Philippines, Camaroan) that made them visit Palawan. It was more than they expected. Left, Port Barton Beach, below, Blue Cove Beach & the resort's bar & restaurant view from the sea

There are two ways to leave Port Barton to Sabang. By boat or by a hired van. Both costs 3000php minimum but negociable. The only problem with the boat is that you have to leave really early & with the hired van, it has to be arranged. There is a boat that comes from Sabang on a regular basis. If you can get the schedule, this would cost less than 500php a head. It's the same with the van. If you find other people with the same destination, you share the cost of the van. With a problem with communication, we were obliged to take the van (actually a Hillux pickup) at 3000php to Sabang. We tried to negociate & all we got was free entrance to the Underground river. It was a 4 hour fast & bumpy ride.

Sabang is home to the Underground River. It is one of the most visited places in Palawan. The tour is organized from the boat ride at 250php to the entrance of 150php per head. If you're adventurous & have great endurance, you can reach the Underground River through the Monkey Trail (or Jungle Trail), a 2 hour trek in the jungle according to the Dutch tourists we met. You can see wild monkeys on the way too. I liked the tour on the Underground River especially our banca chauffer who cracked more jokes than information on the cave. The tour is about 45 minutes. Underground River entrance

Although the beach in sabang is not totally white sands, it is still nice to see a long stretch of beach. The water is great plus our resort is the best we stayed in in Palawan. I would rate Daluyon Resort a 5 star resort thus we had to stretch a bit more for the accomodation budget. After the travelling we did, Sabang was a relaxing spot. We enjoyed the food & drinks on our room's balcony as we prepare to get back to reality. Below, view of the resort from the beach & our room

Palawan has so much paradise to share that needs plenty of time to experience. Because it is relatively a big island, it is hard to choose a destination. You can only do 2 to 3 destinations in one visit to be able to appreciate every place. Our next stop would be in down South on the eastern side & El Nido. This time, I won't forget to bring a spray for bed bugs. My polka dot skin was one of my souvenirs of Palawan. The Philippines truly still boasts of paradise. Can't wait to go back. Below, the view from our room in Sabang & our ride to the Sabang terminal

Please let me know if anyone can share us more info on lands for sale in Palawan. Thanks!

There are a thousands things I miss about the Philippines. The two times I've been there it's like I've never left and that is what home makes us feel. And if home is the Philippines, no matter how much you have always craved for everything that is you, there are things that you just cannot stand anymore once you've tasted & been on the other side.

Traffic & driving in Manila. That's right, what's new? This is the national stamp of the country but when traffic has gotten a little bit better even with the humungous cars, it's the discipline & character of the drivers that made me crazy. When my mom & the driver was hit by another car from behind, the guy had the guts to ask them for 5Kphp when they saw it was an old car, a badly coiffed driver & an old lady. He even death threatened our driver. Don't care about morality, my car is more expensive & you look stupid. In the end, the guy hit & ran our driver when they were supposed to meet in the police station. Then there's the constant "I go first" attitude & nobody just wants to give way. The few times we went to Makati, we were stopped by the police twice on issues of vague rules by the stoplight eg. was there a sign on making a turn on red. And I have almost forgotten how busy the roads are in Manila. In one main road, you can have taxis, jeepneys, buses, people crossing, bicycles on the left lane, pedicabs in the middle lane, motorcycles & scooters, all at the same time, all the possibilities that can happen. And everytime I point out this madness, they always remind me how I handled it before, with craziness as well but I've outgrown this craziness due to lack of practice.

Philippine Government Agencies: BIR - if you can't beat them, join them. You will never understand what it means to go through them until you've experienced it. Driving licenses, cedulas & the like does not count. We always find someone to do the biggies for us when it comes to the tough guys of BIR. I was left alone with my mom to do one of those biggies, the form 1801.

For those who had to do the Estate Tax, fear is always the first reaction to it. We know it means big money especially for us common people who has a small piece of land, for privileged people with many pieces of land exactly know what it means, big lawyers & accountants. But our hired humble accountant seemed promising to help us go about the process with the City Hall & BIR. One dry afternoon, we met her City Hall contact who was in charge of the Tax Declaration. This means the land's zonal value & improvements, apparently a very important part of the process. He then informed us, with a voice almost to a whisper while scanning quickly his surroundings, that the paperwork which will normally amount to 150-170Kphp will cost us 70Kphp. Awe was my first reaction but I thought it was reasonable even without a hint of how much the true amount is. We just want to get it over & done with. We just need to talk it over with the rest of the family then I sincerely thanked him for his help.

After one dinner & a night's sleep, the decision was to go for it. The accountant went her way to start the said paperwork. Like a reeking fish, she came back telling us that her contact raised the amount to 120Kphp. So she took it in her own hands & went straight to BIR coming back with the final amount of 90Kphp. Not only that they were all robbing us blind, they had the audacity to negociate our ignorance & situation. We don't even know who was the most corrupt, the City Hall contact, the BIR or our accountant. This caused a dispute among us & my mom insisted of gathering information among her widowed friends. I felt so bad in thanking these sharks.

One mahjong afternoon at her friend's, she was able to collect considerable news & a valuable lesson. Her friend gave us a copy of her form 1801, showed us how to compute & tipped us on the important estate tax table at the back of the form.

In the end, our taxable amount totaled to a negative making us exempted from paying anything at all! Pointing this to our accountant, she tried to debate & convince us of wrong computation & that in the end, it's her first time handling a biggie like the form 1801. My proud mom had the courage now to go to the BIR, kicking out our accountant, to file our Estate Tax by ourselves.

Arriving at the BIR, there were so little signs except for where things are. I was getting too impatient & embarassed of actually being there without a clue on where to start. The best way is to inquire at the information desk without giving out too much of our file just yet. There is something about the BIR that you just cannot really trust. Fortunately, our file was almost ready except for other documents I don't even know when the lady started asking me more about our background. It made me & my mom realize that we cannot make this clean as much as we want to. There will always be something & we'll end up paying people to make things easier for us. In the end, we rehired our accountant for 20Kphp to go through all the hassle. The valuable lesson is you can never be lily white when it comes to Philippine governement agencies. Corruption is at every level. As we speak, our paperwork is still not yet finished. I've never seen corruption so raw, taking advantage face to face without shame & that went up to 120Kphp. Afterall, the BIR & the Customs are the most corrupt department in the Philippines & it will take many generations to disinfect them.

These & among other things make the Philippines. People see it in their own eyes & complain everyday but nothing is done. People live by it because it's as if there's no other choice to be what it is. Yes, what can we do? That is the spice of the country among the beautiful islands that is home.

If there's one thing that would let you know you've reached France, it would be the silence & the calm. No more busy streets of people & street vendors. No more crazy jeepneys & buses in traffic. No more blazing lights after 10pm. The silence was almost defeaning but at the same time soothing after 4 months of being in a country that is so alive.

Although the first 2 months was a tug-o-war between grieving & the guilt of being on holiday, I savored all that I can of home. I made sure that I ate everything I craved for. Shopped to my heart's content even if I didn't have the courage to brave Greenhills. I spent some time on the beach & drank all the cocktails I want. I tried being with old friends like old times. I spent as much time with my mom & had a sweet reunion with my frenchfry. 4 months or any other length of time wouldn't be enough. When you've gone over the holiday mode & begin to find that space you built almost half of your lifetime, as cliché as it is, nothing do feels like home.

But the silence reverberates in our apartment & you kind of get used to the hopelessness of it when you're in Manila. At 6am, there is already life at my parent's house. The movements other than your own was comforting. Especially during a time of sorrow. It was nearly hard to feel alone & we were grateful for that. But as we move on & life continues, mourning is a very long process. At times you don't even know what to make of it. As if a part of you died. Time is always the answer for everything & patience is like a skill you have to acquire.

As strange as it may sound, the noise, the verve, of the Philippines is what I immediately miss. There was always something to do, somewhere to go & something to eat. As if time never existed. I had a second look at my country & inspite of all the chaos & the craziness, I still definitely would want to live there. There is something about things in contradiction in everyday life. One thing I didn't do is to take as many pictures of what this exactly means.

It has been 2 weeks we came back to France. For now, I'm in the mercy of time, waiting for it to take me to places.

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