Three places, while different, are connected. Some say that on certain nights, whispers of the past can be heard flowing between them, linking the lives of those who have crossed their paths.
Could these individuals who find themselves drawn to each...
I was typing at my phone while going to Sanitarium, a Health Resort Hospital here in our location. I grow up in Narra Province, a rural place near the city where I'm heading now. While typing, I saw a young man looking at me. Parang iba ang kanyang tingin na hindi ko maintindihan. I took glances pero hindi ko pinapahalata. Binalik ko ang phone ko sa bag at binaling ang tingin sa bintana ng bus. He's still looking even if I'm completely aware na nakatingin siya. Hanggang sa may pumara, at huminto ang bus.
"Kuya, yung stroller ko po sa baba... sa baggage po, palihug (please)" sabi ng babae na kulay pula ang T-shirt na parang kagagaling pa nang airport.
Mayamaya ay napansin ko nanaman ang lalaki na nakatingin sa akin. Hindi na din ako mapakali na parang sinasabi nga instinct ko na lumipat na ng seat since kaunti lang naman ang passengers dahil gabi na at ayun na nga, mas pinili kong umupo sa may dulo para di na ako madisturbo ng kundoktor at maiwasan ko yung lalake. Dibaleng ako nalang ang umiwas to attain peace of mind.
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Kinuha ko ulit yung phone pati nadin yung headset ko sa bag at isinaksak ko sa tenga ko para makinig ng music. Biglang may nag pop-up na message sa messenger ko na galing kay kuya.
"Asa naman ka, ganiha pako nimog hinuwat. Asa naman ka dapita? Ganiha rag hinuwat imuhang Mama dinhe (Where are you? I'm waiting here for ages. Where are you now? Your mother is waiting here) ". sabi sa message. By the way, he's my cousin who already had a family, and they're in the hospital with his wife on labor right now, and my mom is with them~ coz' she's the doctor, general surgeon mainly but before that she's a candidate obstetrician.
Well, we live in a province here in Mindanao and the language we are using is Binisaya. My mother is half Filipina, half Singaporean, while my father is pure Hispanic. And you might also ask why am I here in the country? Well, that's for you to find out. Nahh! Just jerking. See? I know what you think. I don't have the humor... but it's okay. I'm used to it.
To tell you a bit about my life, Binisaya is my mother tongue. I went to school here from first to third grade, but then transferred to Los Angeles to continue my education. I had to learn English, and studying was my only way to pick it up. It wasn't easy, though—I faced bullying from other students whenever I went to school, especially because of my skin color. Despite the challenges, I threw myself into learning. I'd spend hours reading books and watching movies, carefully picking up on the words and expressions people used. I'd practice speaking in front of the mirror, repeating phrases over and over until they sounded right. My accent was thick, and the words didn't flow naturally yet, but I was determined. I was in a new place with a new language, and this was my way of adapting, of proving to myself that I belonged here.
The bullying, though, made everything harder. There were days when I dreaded walking into school, wondering what comments or looks I might face. I didn't understand why my skin color, or my accent made me stand out so much, but I could feel the separation every time I entered a classroom. I tried to tell myself that it would pass, that as I got better at English and learned the ways of this place, things would get easier, but I always get a different treatment as if- I was a complete stranger, an outcast, an alien, a piece of joke to them.
