I arrive in Tagbilaran feeling a little bit nauseated. Although the weather is fine, the sea near Maribojoc towards Tagbilaran Bay is quite rough. When I alight from the Weesam Express, it is terribly hot in the pier area, as compared to the freezing conditions inside the fast craft. I feel a sore throat building up.
After a few months of not going home to this place, I suddenly felt alienated. Too many people. Too many motor vehicles. Too small a place. I noticed that Tagbilaran has become constricted and suffocating. That feeling when you are expecting a lot of space but all you see is a horde of sweaty smelly entities and a swarm of tricycles filling your lungs with dark smoke and dusts.
I have to squint my eyes. They hurt like hell from the pollutants and the bright sun. The vampire in me struggles with day jobs. To wither under the sun or die without food and comfort are hard choices to make.
The only thing I am glad is the election season that is obviously here. The roads in Tagbilaran suddenly become smooth and worthy of praise. At least the roads I have passed through. I wondered if the roads going to Mansasa looks like a real road now and not some cratered landscape you see in the sci-fi movies. Such is the magic of elections.
After visiting some friends and former officemates, I retreated to my friend’s house to rest.
Tomorrow will be a busy day.