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.
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.
