For Adults Only

It was strictly a no-kids affair. With my mom and my dad, we went off to spend a day in Batangas. My memories of Lian, the town where my father grew up, are sketchy at best. On occasions when we came to visit, I remember there was a lot of eating and a lot of mahjong-playing. I remember having a bright yellow printed dress made for me by one of the neighborhood mananahis and taking a long walk from the church to the cemetery for the burial of one of our elders. I remember walking alongside very old folks; I am told that our relatives lead very long lives.

But what I remember most about Batangas is Matabungkay where my sisters and I spent most of our childhood summers swimming and building sand castles. We'll be at the beach first thing in the morning and wouldn't leave until the sun was way past down. We practically lived in sweaty, sandy bathing suits but it was great. And by the end of our stay, our skin would have turned dangerously dark but who cares? We had enough to fill up paragraphs of that What I Did Last Summer essay for when school starts.

This was such a day, but of course, fast forward to many, many years later.




Waves and waves of sunshine





Sinigang na lapu-lapu, inihaw na liempo at talong chowed down on a gently rolling balsa





Jack, San Miguel, the sun, the sea: Perfect!





Happiness!