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Thursday, January 27, 2011

Argao: After the Race

After the race

Though I was able to wash up in the park, I still needed a bath. After I got my after-race refreshment, I went to get my bags. Then I went to meet up with my classmate and her posse and asked if they wanted to use the shower in my room in the pension house. They declined since they were able to use the parks wash room to clean up. After taking my leave, I went  on my way. 

This is how the dark road looks during daylight.
On my way going the pension house, I passed through the same road I traversed the night before—the pitch dark road. Along the way, I met up an old man who was on his way to his house. He just walked up to me and asked where I was going—the scary approach. Since his house was half-way way towards my destination, he tagged along with me. I didn’t stop him—I did not have the chance to decline his offer to join me on the road—he just went and said in Cebuano, ‘I’ll join you on your way.’

The man was very friendly and very chatty. He dominated the conversation.  He talked and talked. All the time, I was the one listening. I enjoyed the company and the talk. It kept me from thinking about how tired I was.  

The guy talked about his travels. He has lived in some parts of Mindanao, in Negros and in other parts of the Visayas. ‘You’re not an NPA, are you?,’ I asked. He just laughed. He was originally from Pardo. After moving around the southern Philippines, he went back to his family in Pardo. He and his family later concluded that the city air was not for them—they moved again—and ended up in Argao. He told me he and his family had been living in Argao for a year and a half.

A rice nursery of some sort.
When we reached the highway, we parted ways.  For me to reach my place, I had to turn right while his house was on going left.  Before he went on his way, he shook my hand and introduced himself to me—I’m sorry but I forgot his name. ‘If you visit Argao next time, feel free to drop by our home,’ he said.  I said, ‘I will’ and then we went on our separate ways. Too bad, the old man had more stories to tell. I was enjoying our short-lived bonding. It felt like those scenes in the films with a boy hanging out with his grandfather. I wasn’t close to my gramps—he was ill-tempered and he was smelly—he did not take baths. I met other grandfathers growing up—I live in a compound where everyone is a relative—none of my old men were the grandfatherly type.

Low tide, outside my window during brunch.
Upon reaching the house, I right away went to the shower. I was inside the bathroom for an hour—I take long baths—sometimes longer. After I got cleaned up, I packed my bags and then I checked out. I took my brunch in the boulevard. I walked around. I went to the beach. I wanted to go for a swim. Unluckily, the sea was on its lowest level that day. I went back to the park and got two turns with the zip. The zip-line was available to the participants of the run for free. After I took one last look around area, I walked going to the bus stop. Sniff! Sniff! It was around 11:30 AM. When I got my water and snacks for the travel, I then took a Ceres bus going back to the city.

Going home.

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