Friday, June 5, 2009

Writer's Block: Holiday

It was raining on the way to the mountains. I had only a few hours of rest from my flight, but was up early, raring to get into the car and make my escape.

Except for moments that I visit my family, this is how I usually like to spend my vacations -- driving off to another world where I can forget about my troubles.

I'd never been a resort type of person. Never have, and I doubt if I ever will be. I don't particularly care about being a tourist, though I know I am one. Something about being on a bus with a bunch of people with a guide has never really appealed to me.

So I left for my holiday alone with a last-minute ticket, my camera, and a backpack of clothes. I had phoned a friend a few hours before to see if he was in town, and I was off.

The weather was lovely. Not too hot, not too cold. Perfect weather, with a bit of drizzle as we drove southeast.

We were headed for a small village in the mountains, about 400 kilometers away, but made it a bit late as we passed a few other villages.

As a Baguio girl -- these things are not new to me. Being in the mountains bring to me a sense of comfort that everything is going to be alright.

Its hard for friends and family to understand how a woman like me would be so drawn to such places. This is why no one ever goes on a holiday with me. I tend to go where the wind takes me, and it usually isn't near the comforts of home.

So I go by myself and meet up with good friends, who introduce me to their friends and give me a glimpse of what their world is like -- and I rarely come back disappointed.

As we disappeared from the foot of the mountains, it felt good to remember that life is not all about money and things that these little paper notes can buy.

In some parts of the world, money is just money -- used to buy food and drink -- not temporary happiness.

Although I cannot complain about my life, I like to be constantly reminded about such things -- that life is about passion and finding happiness in what really matters.

There's a sense of comfort in knowing that I have nothing to prove because I am not defined by what I do, how much money I make, or where I work. Nobody cares.

I am just a visitor who they welcome into their home and exchange a few laughs with while enjoying sips of tea and a few of nature's treats.

There are no expectations, no ill-thoughts, no pretensions.

Photo by Wendy Ferrer (2009) All Rights Reserved