A Journey of Retrospect: A Homecoming Special 1

10 years ago, I left my hometown and moved to the city with a purpose of broadening my horizon. I was just a 17 year old girl brimming with hopes and dreams believing that furthering my possibilities would lead me to promising opportunities in life. Some people may had find it exceptionally painful and difficult to leave the place they call home but in my case, I was ecstatic and positively excited about what the city could possibly offer to my young and carefree soul. Leaving is good but coming back home makes me feel better. 

I was born in the City of Baguio but circumstances brought me and my family to my father's hometown - Apayao. I was raised and schooled from elementary and high

school in the small agricultural town of Santa Marcela. I was away from my hometown for quite some time that whenever I met some people, visited some places and did some things that reminded me about my hometown, I tend to feel nostalgic. My heart yearns to come home.

After many excruciating years of not being able spend some quality time with my family, I'm finally going home and I had never been so excited. Packed with a small suit case and a backpack containing some presents for my family and friends, I eagerly rode on a bus going to my hometown. After a harrowing 10 hour night trip, a familiar scent tickled my senses; the earthly smell of the wet and muddy rice fields and rice stalks freshly cut from a working rice reaper machine nearby; then it dawned to me that I am already home.

I immediately rode on a tricycle and asked the driver to bring me to Abra Village. After some bargaining for the fare, the driver loaded my suit case. I put my head out as the tricycle glided through the cemented highway surrounded by endless lanes of rice fields yearning with life. It was the middle of September so intermittent rain could be experienced everywhere. It was also the harvesting season in my hometown so I was not surprised to see people working in the fields from the early sunrise until the surrender of the sun to the night. I breathed in the air; it was cool and fresh. I felt like my heart was about to burst but I felt instantly comfortable. Oddly enough, the bustles of the city were nowhere to be found in my mind.

Nothing much have changed in my hometown for the past 10 years except for some familiar places.
Our roads used to be graveled and dusty that people have a hard time transporting but now, with the current projects of the local government unit, 70% of the roads were already paved and cemented. We passed by my hometowns's old public market and I had noticed some changes. There were more shops built around the market main establishment and a clean restroom was placed in a corner which used to be a barren rice field. The market seemed almost empty with very few small time merchants selling fresh vegetables and meat. It did not change that much; market days are still every Monday and Thursday and the sellers are still as accommodating and warm as before.

On our way to my village, I happened to have a glimpse to our Municipal Hall which we fondly call "Municipio"; still serve its purpose as the center of all political and cultural activities; which I clearly remember visiting whenever a festival is held in my hometown. Local carnivals were set up, street foods were sold, sporting events targeting the active participation of the youths were held at the "Municipio" and the place was teeming with town folks enjoying the festivities. I used to beg my mom to let me watch late night carnival shows in our "municipio" with my friends. She would always give me 30 pesos to spend and I usually used this money to buy "siopao"; a  Chinese dumpling which was then my favorite food sold in the festival.

As I happily reminisced those moments, I saw the road leading to my old high school near a small bridge situated in a fork. Memories came flooding in. I used to walk here from my house to school. It was a long, rugged road fenced with massive corn fields to the left and shaded by tall and thick trees on the right. The road seemed always desolated with very few cars passing by except at 4:00 in the afternoon when students had to go home from the nearby school. The road would be bursting with children shouting, singing, running and walking which gives a temporary resuscitation to a once lonely and empty street. As I passed through it, I could still feel the same vibe as it was 10 years ago except, it is no longer rugged and dusty. The drive was long and quiet but in my distinctive memory, I saw myself carrying a heavy backpack walking alongside with my friends happily chatting about our "crushes". Faint giggles echoed in my ears.

                                                              Part 2 (soon)