B for Cebu

It was a Friday morning and I traded the bus for a plane ride. This particular workday my destination was not Mandaluyong but Mactan. So off to Cebu I went! The night before the writing workshop I conducted for young people, I was still reviewing my notes for the half-day teaching slated the next day. Aprilboi, the laptop, proved to be good company.

“Every time she sees me, she wants me to kiss her,” so went the opening sentence of James's essay. I stopped for a second when I read his first line aloud and laughed. “Oh no, love story ba ito?” Silly me, I spoke too soon. “Teka tungkol sa nanay mo!” No?Ah, lola. Now how many boys would lovingly write about their grandmothers in a writing workshop? Sweet.

The cheapest pork barbecue in the world, at four pesos only, (and probably the tiniest too), is here in Cebu, more specifically at Lartian. You eat with the jeepney drivers and businessmen, al fresco, in a strip where you use your hands instead of a spoon and fork to bring food into your mouth. They serve rice inside this woven coconut leaves called pusó. T’was a whole sensory experience—your ears hear rock music blaring from the speakers, your eyes water from the smoke coming from the grill, your fingers feel the sticky rice, your nose smells meat and seafood cooking, and your tastebuds tickle with the flavor of the local food.

My unofficial yet very gracious tour-guide is Lynnie, an ex-station manager-slash-deejay and now marketing officer in our Cebu branch. This tall woman has taller dreams—to go to Korea for a prayer course, and later on, Europe. To you, Lynnie, when Cebu becomes too small for you, I hope that you can just go out and conquer the world.

Many times work doesn't feel like work. This too—the joy of loving what you do and working with people you love being with—is a gift from God.