The young lady waited patiently for the jeepney bus to pick her up, anxious about the change and uncertainty she was soon to face. Her hair was cut short so she could bear the humidity, and her arm strained from the weight of her large bag, stuffed with the items she deemed absolutely necessary, including pieces of clothing, a rosary, and a stack of photographs of her family. To save herself from boredom, she shifted back and forth on her heels and observed the scene around her. As she gazed straight ahead, an endless line of dilapidated houses immediately filled her line of vision, which offered nothing more than a displeasing sight to her already mounting displeasure. She wanted to get away... far away.
As she was contemplating her departure, a forceful rush of wind blew passed her, sending a slight chill down her spine and all throughout her body. She shivered, her arms bare, and noticeably stiffened. After breathing out a huff of annoyance, she straightened out her ruffled clothes and switched the heavy bag to her other hand, now shaking from the shock of the cool Pacific breeze. She attempted to regain her prior ease, and inhaled deeply, but the calm would not last long.
Just as she recovered, a second gust of wind took her by surprise, chilling her to the core. With her teeth chattering and her eyes shut tight, she urged her tears not to fall. When the wind finally subsided, she brushed the hair from her face. As her vision cleared, she noticed the staggered brick and weathered roofs, framed so beautifully by the imposing palm trees just overhead. The scene looked so familiar, she thought, and in an instant, she was reminded of the innocence of her youth and how the trees would sway in the same way as she rode her bike to school. A string of memories erupted right in front of her eyes; suddenly she was ten years old again, surrounded by a sea of familiar faces, all similar yet so utterly different.
As if stuck in a film reel, she slid through different scenes, ones marked by the divine aroma of sinigang and adobo and colored by the bright, gaudy patterns of her mother’s clothes. She remembered the delight she felt skipping through the busy streets; going up to the food vendors and spending what little money she had on the joy of savory foods. She remembered skipping briskly to and fro, trying to avoid the sticks made of bamboo that went in and out, in and out.
Then, she thought of that tri-colored flag, with its three golden stars and its bright, brilliant sun. She thought of the people that came before her and the people that would come after. She thought of her home, the Philippines, in its entirety and all the beauty she would be leaving behind for a new start, a new life. Though she was leaving everything she knew, and perhaps for good, she would never forget the place that taught her to rejoice in being unique, in being supremely different. She promised to take that lesson with her, and as she boarded the jeepney and whispered her last goodbye, a faint, silent breeze returned to greet her with its own final farewell.
