From May 2002 -- Returning to the U.S. from Manila

i have been home in nyc for 2 wks now. it's been fun living with jay. much smoother than i thought, more comfortable, more fun! freezing ass weather til today tho- i have not felt breathtaking joy for that warmth (85 degrees) since last spring. though i love the tropical weather in the Ph, what i felt was...peace. the smell of nuts and other vendor fruits in the air. the city is transformed into a green rush of spring where the concrete becomes a study of life walking, growing, and blowing through it- not sterile, but a silent quietness in the buzz and breath of us.

never thought i'd love DUMBO (down under the manhattan bridge overpass) but when i returned Last Tango In Paris and Mystery Men to the video store, i thought...
walking through the small park to the under bridge arches leading to york st via pearl, there was a peaceful pattern of passersby in colorful spring-filled busyness, freshness in their eyes. I passed under and found a way with green on one side and the clean sidewalk smooth under my feet.

I closed my eyes, still walking, and saw in my mind Bohol, the first island i visited after landing in Manila. i took a plane to cebu and a speed boat to the island, to its brown dusty streets with palm trees and turquoise beach peeking through them. i project to a possible future in my mind, walking to my wooden shanty on the beach, holding fruits from the market, coming home to my study, my papers, my writings, alone, at peace.

my neighbors gather in their houses down the street, talking, laughing, eating, pouring water on their plants, leading their dog-- brown faces and white smiles blending with my own. before me they form a sunrise of eyes, coming and going like the waves of the ocean, and familiar to me as if we'd been born together in the same room. they are my neighbors. not the cold and shut-off eyes of my neighbors here, but the curious and warm eyes of cousins i've never met, but heard of and seen in pictures.

i don't know why i feel such a deep connection to this place- of course it could be explained in that i am filipino and it's in my blood, but i was born in the U.S. and in a way it's almost ridiculous to say. is it all truly woven in my veins like this? why i love the hot weather as if i were made for it. is this my true home, the place that reflects the true me, my soul, my life strength? i got home and felt so comforted in this small, brown room of jay's. who'd have thought that'd be my final feeling today?