
From where I was seated in that nondescript noodle house, I could see some women in woolen chuba or in Indian sari, Tibetan monks in maroon robes and travelers in head-to-foot Gore-Tex pass each other along the store-lined streets surrounding the square. Used to hearing the mantra om mani padme hum reverberating through the town, I felt delighted when, in the middle of tasting my first ever hot momo soup, the Black-Eyed Peas’ Bebot started playing. "Filipino, Filipino. Filipino, Filipino. Hoy pare, pakinggan n’yo. Heto na ang tunay na Pilipino." How surreal, I thought. In that place, at that moment, I never felt more alive.
6 comments:
I love the way you describe this place. It does sound a bit surreal.
the thrill of finding self through travel...i'll miss this type of awakening this year. kulang sa pondo...kayod muna :(
@kayni: puwede namang maglakbay kahit sa karatig bayan o bansa lamang. para mas tipid. :D
@loree: it's been a while. i miss writing like this. hahhaha
@loree, thank you. :)
Wow, you've got a beautiful blog. Glad I found it. This is quite an interesting place.
Hi, Lei. Thankyou for visiting my blog. :)
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