Sudden Journeys, Wider Worlds | Ramblings

Originally written on December 28, 2023 

An atmospheric, painterly landscape establishing shot of rural Mindoro, Philippines, at dusk. Rendered with expressive, visible brushstrokes in an impressionistic style. The scene depicts a winding dirt road or a wide, slightly muddy river cutting through lush, dense tropical vegetation and rolling hills, possibly dotted with coconut groves silhouetted against the fading light. The view subtly suggests a transition zone, perhaps where foothills meet flatter land near a coast or a larger settlement hinted at by distant, indistinct warm lights blurred into the humid atmosphere. The lighting is dramatic and evocative, dominated by the warm oranges, deep purples, and rich blues of a sunset sky reflecting weakly on water or damp earth, casting long, soft shadows. Crucially, there are no humans, vehicles, or distinct modern structures visible, focusing solely on the natural terrain and the palpable, humid atmosphere of the region to set the scene. Style: Expressive digital painting, impressionistic landscape, atmospheric lighting, visible brushstrokes, scene-setting, humid twilight. Aspect Ratio: --ar 16:9

You know... Going outside has left me feeling like shit, and when I say "going outside," I mean I travelled, riding public transportation vehicles (jeepneys), riding ships, and even riding the police patrol jeep due to a friendly interaction between the group of three or four point-to-point police. I honestly don't even know anymore. Going outside and seeing the wider world, seeing all kinds of different people, is incredibly exhausting, but it's not because people suck. It's not because the world is tiring. It's not because of all of that. It's because what I felt when I went outside is that people existed, and it's not that I haven't travelled before. I travelled for most of my life growing up, and it's only 4 or 5 years ago that I began to stay at home more than ever. However, two days ago, I went outside and travelled again after probably over a year of not travelling all that much. It felt very enlightening, but it shouldn't have felt that way. It's not like I haven't travelled for most of my life. I did, but I feel now that the world is so much bigger than I thought it was. And it's hard for me to pretend that I haven't seen all that. I cannot pretend that I didn't have positive interactions with many different kinds of people throughout the journey. I remember many faces, the smiling faces of the staff at the ship who were amused at how I was carrying so many bags and looking so exhausted, committed, and desperate, the faces of the people when I, my mother, and a youth family friend were walking around Batangas, the faces of the people at Batangas port, the faces of the people at the bus, the faces of the people at the jeep, the faces of the people at the restaurants, the faces of the people my mother worked with, and the faces of the youth under the pastor that my mother worked with in order to help the katutubo ('indiginous people'), specifically the Mangyan, among many other various faces. Though, I remember that they also had specific tribe names as well. I learned about so much history that I wanted to write down, like how San Andreas, the nearest barangay to a specific tribe, was against the idea of allowing relief to be sent to that tribe because they didn't like the idea of the tribe getting power and influence to the point that San Andreas would lose power. I learned about the history that the Mangyan used to own the lands that San Andreas currently encompassed, but a flood in the 80s caused the Mangyan to move upwards away from where San Andreas soon became established. I don't know what to do or say, but all I know is that many things happened. I can explain everything, which I will do after addressing my initial thoughts and feelings. I will continue to ponder about my enlightening travel experience.

Shifting to the general map, from Batangas Pier, we rode a high-speed craft called "OceanJet" under the company "OceanJet Fast Ferries, Inc." to Calapan Port. From there, we went to the barangay "San Andreas," from which we were supposed to go to a tribe but were prevented by the Barangay Captain. Though, they did state that it was because we needed to log our presence there individually; however, based on my understanding of the conversations of my company and the conversations between them and the barangay authorities, it was because of the fact that they were scared of empowering the indiginous people due to fears of San Andreas losing power as a barangay.

To start, I remember that I was still in my room two days ago having played League of Legends. I remember that based on my experience of playing League of Legends, I had a lot of fun in terms of playing champions like Warwick. I played for the duration of my waking time, which was 9 hours past the normal waking hours, but I also played hours past my waking time. I stayed up for past 9 hours probably. So last week, my mother told me if I wanted to go with her to the indiginous people, and I said yes. She told me this during I, my mother, and my father's trip to Tagaytay where we visited a new Starbucks branch with a gorgeous vantage point in the direction of Taal Volcano and went to a park called "Westborough." To be more clear, this was "Westborough Town Center & Park Square" in "South Forbes" in Santa Rosa, Laguna near Tagaytay. However, when the day came for us to travel, which was rescheduled due to strong rain that led to the river which we would have to pass to get to the Mangyan becoming too high for us to pass, my mother forgot to bring me. While my father and my mother were traveling by car probably 5 to 10 minutes away from home, they remembered and went back to get me. So I got wind of this while I was still in my room, having finished a League of Legends round. I remember asking my mother if we were leaving already, and my mother said that she wanted to eat first. So in the meantime, I lay down, and I ended up falling asleep. Timothy tried to wake me up, but I told him that mother was still eating. After falling asleep again, my father woke me up, and by that time, my mother and the youth family friend "Lyka" were there at the terminal. So I went with my father, only bringing myself with only my sports clothes without a smartphone. I rode at the front passenger seat, and I noticed the bags filling up the back passenger seat. So once we reached the terminal where my mother was, we brought down the bags one by one nad had them sit a short distance away from the door of the bus. So after some communication with the bus conductor, we got him to open up the side of the bus where people placed items that would be hard or impossible bringing inside the bus. However, in our case, since our bags and wrapped books were many and heavy, it was much more convenient that we placed them in the compartment on the side of the bus. So after saying goodbye to my father, we went inside the bus and sat down at the very back, bringing in boxes that we leaned against the top of the chairs at the very back and the back wall of the bus itself.

Shifting to our time at the bus, I distinctly remember that we were greeted with a diverse line-up of people over the long hour we waited there for the bus to accumulate passengers since it was the last round of that bus for the night. Once the bus was full, I remember seeing a chubby woman on the right side of the bus from my vantage point right subsequent to us in terms of seating arrangement. Basically, they were seated second to last, as we were seated at the very back at the last seat section. So viewing it forward from our vantage point put them subsequent to us in the domain of order. Transitioning to this particular view with us as the first row that encompassed both left and right seating columns, I saw a group of youth probably on the third row or fourth row to our left, and I remember that they were the company of what was likely their mother on the second row to our left. I remember that my mother asked me to move the box to my left away from the man coming into the bus along the way and onto the stack of boxes on my mother's lap. Lyka, the family friend, sat on the window seat to my right, while I sat around the middle of the two-column seat section. My mother sat between Lyka and me. I remember that during our time waiting for passengers to acummulate and during the time the bus was already moving, I decided to strike a conversation with my mother with regard to my writing and learning experience. This conversation turned into a long discussion that lead my time there seeming the most sophisticated out of all of the interactions that did happen inside the bus. It was the kind of discussion one would have at a seminar. In addition to this point, it made my time there easier and more relaxing enough that I was able to relax. Though, when a couple of passengers entered and sat down next to my on my left, leaving me little room to stretch and move on my seat, I began to feel a little uncomfortable. However, this was temporary, and soon enough, they moved to the second or third row to my left.

Moving on to our time outside the bus at Batangas when we were heading to the actual port building itself, this was the most sudden aspect of our travel. When we exited the bus, the bags and books were brought onto a tricycle, and this allowed me to observe around and note in my head regarding the gravel on the ground, which I would continue to note and observe later. Lyka rode this tricycle, while I and my mother walked around. She pushed along a platform trolley and carried the boxes we brought on it, while I only walked alongside her. Once we were closer to the port building at the end of the tricycle's destination, the tricycle driver helped us move our items further inside past a checkpoint with signs that communicated with respect to what wasn't allowed to bring to the ship such as firearms and pork. After placing our bags on the side under this group of signs, we then moved them one by one inside the port building itself with the passing attention of the guards and soldiers stationed there and the help of one police guard. After we went inside, my mother joined a long waiting line for OceanFast, and I noticed that this was the longest waiting line besides another line that was similarly long. Though, these two lines were the only ones that were noticeably long. After we got our ticket, we waited on the many seats of the large building, and I was able to eat both pork adobo and ampalaya from one of the stalls there. As for one of the many passing interactions of my mother, she communicated with one or two vendors about a certain older woman who used to be a vendor here at the place; though, even after repeated clarification, the vendors claimed that they didn't know who that person was. Walking around left me conspicuous enough that people glanced at me for longer than usual, as I was only wearing sports clothes and carrying nothing else for the most part. I did help carry the bags from under the signs to the port building, but this was a relatively short distance in comparison to what was coming later.

During our wait for the ship to come and the time for passengers to enter came, we stayed for two hours or so and used our time to eat, lie down and rest, change seating, stand around, and use the bathroom there, among others. In addition, my mother relocated items among our bags to make them more concise for carrying.

Once the time came for passengers to enter the ship, we went outside the port building and had to walk a very long way to the ship. During this time, we carried bags one by one, because according to Lyka, we didn't know about the shuttle that could have brought the bags for us instead. This was the most difficult part of the journey, as one of the bags were very heavy. The worst part was that this was the first bag that I carried in that series of carrying to the ramp of the ship.

Progressing to a more visceral level, I remember being in so much pain when I carried this first bag that I began thinking philosophically while carrying. Moreover, I never put down this bag for what felt like the duration of 15 minutes of carrying this heavy bag after months of a relatively sedentary lifestyle. It was so painful that it is the most distinct memory of the trip.

Returning to the ramp of the ship, it was here that the ship staff brought it to one side inside the ship where the vehicles parked. The smiles and interest of the staff as I carried the bags one by one gave a sense of ease and humor despite the difficulty of exerting a great deal of effort after months of being relatively sedentary.

After carrying many bags and even jogging and sprinting to get the rest of the bags toward the end of our series of carrying bags, we finally entered the ship, being the last passengers to board. However, during this series, we did pass many checkpoints on the way, getting the attention of stationed guards and passing staff. Namely, one passing ship staff even helped me find one ball toy that dropped from a bag midway to the ship.

Once we were inside, I was more relaxed and confident despite being very sweaty. The people noticed us in light of the fact that we were the last ones to board. But I wager that my conspicuous positive and confident mood might have looked unusual in a plethora of people mentally prepared to wait for the ship to reach its destination in some discomfort. However, I brought my optimism and sense of relief in a strong way, having long casual conversations with my mother with regard to many things. During this extended interaction, we caught the attention of nearby passengers, considering that I spoke in what sounded like native English or wealthy cityfolk English, especially here in the Philippines. I was very confident that I took on whatever pose I wanted in order to feel comfortable, and I was standing by the side of the ship, looking at the sea water. I wasn't afraid to sit on my haunches or squat down, and I wasn't afraid to be honest about growing up and playing langit lupa as a child. I wasn't afraid to talk about more personal things, and that imagery of confidence likely became imprinted as part of a broader understanding into my personality accessible for use by my mother and Lyka.

Migrating to our time there at the ship, we enjoyed the view, and we enjoyed a strong breeze enough that we had to rely on the ship's covers to deal with the drizzle and the cold that came with it. We moved from standing at the side of the ship to sitting down at the other side of the ship to sitting down inside where we had the ship's covers to protect us enough that we could sleep at one of the tables. I remember seeing a girl standing in a weird manner, but the thing is that women could do anything they wanted. It was my subjective perspective of them anyway, so from my perspective, she was walking, and all of a sudden, she stood there at the side of the ship in front of me while I was sitting down. This was in the second place we stayed after the initial standing at the side of the ship when we first entered. She would glance at me several times as if I was a looker later after she stood at the side of the ship in her very weird, hair-twirling manner. However, I didn't care enough to care, but since I had nothing else to look at but the ocean, I began to assess the way she was, as she was in front of me. Based on my assessment, she was not just doing what she was doing for no reason, but she could just be a hair-twirling kind of lady who didn't really care about what others thought. However, some women did try to do certain things to catch the attention of others, but to repeat, some just did whatever because it was comfortable and not necessarily because they wanted to communicate anything in particular. In the end, this reflects a broader need for understanding not among women but among individuals who might struggle with expressing themselves as clearly. However, this was also a time for understanding from the observer's side, who needed to leave their thoughts in their head, especially when the observed might likely be communicating things without realizing it.

Moreover, my mother also went to a charging station at the ship, and we attempted to charge the Go Pro we had. However, the problem was that the Go Pro used a different cord from the three cords available for charging. Before we realized this, I had to open up the camera to make the charging port bare, which I only learned how to do so at that time. Once we realized that the Go Pro wouldn't charge, we put back its case on again. After the long line at the shop there was gone, my mother bought a bottle of water for me; though, I suggested that she drank as well. However, she said that she didn't want to have to urinate at the ship because it was dirty. I continued this topic by saying that one of the reasons I preferred being a man was because of the ease in urinating compared to how a woman would have to do it. After we moved to the table and slept there, I noticed a group of women that I had seen while sitting down at the side of the ship earlier, which was the second place we moved out of the three spots in total. At the table, which was third place, I listened to one of the women talking about writing and plots, specifically about time loops or time travel or something.

Entering into our time outside of the ship and at the port itself, I felt a sense of scale, awe, and wonder at the vehicles moving outside the ship and onto land. Afterwards, I had to carry the bags one by one again. To clarify, when I say "one by one," it doesn't specificaly mean that I carried the bags one by one, but it's more so "group by group", possibly meaning "two by two," "three by three," and "four by four." This was challenging since I was tired from carrying the bags earlier, so carrying the bags for the third time took some effort, considering that we had to move the bags twice in this third carrying session. Once the bags were inside the jeepney where we would ride toward the indiginous people, we went inside, and I got to learn about the dynamics between my mother and the pastor. I also mentioned about food as a callback to when we discussed about food hours earlier at the port building. Consequently, we went to "McDonalds'," and I ate "Chicken Fillet Ala King" with black coffee and hash brown. It was rejuvenating, since I was thirsty and hungry.

After staying at McDonalds' for a while where I pondered about my memories of traveling, we returned to the jeepney. I remember that earlier, when we were parking the jeepney, the driver made a mistake by parking too close to the wall that we laughed about it. I also remember that the driver left some wrapped cake bread on the seat.

Shifting to our next destination, we went to a much more rural place where we picked up the youth under the pastor while I was talking with my mother about economics, the free market, and the difference between donations (non-profit, non-government organizations) and engaging with the free market with a for-profit business. This first impression definitely struck the youth, and that was enough for me to give them something definite and striking in order to spend less effort later on into communicating who I am and what I care about. After picking up the youth, we even further into the wilderness where we soon learned that we couldn't visit the Mangyan because of the rain that made the river that we needed to pass too high. I took some pictures of the place because I knew that I could learn to write much more about the environment. I remember that my mother laughed about the phrase I used: "Observing the environment." I assume she found it notably formal and found that to be hilarious, but it was becoming casual language for me, considering my need to write much on the fly in a structured and formal manner and read textbooks in order to carry out my broader goals and objectives.

Returning to when we found out that we couldn't visit the Mangyan, we instead decided to visit another tribe where we were disappointed that the Barangay Captain of San Andreas wasn't too keen about us going there. As a result, we ended up abandoning that as well and opting to give the relief goods we brought to a group of people who I assumed would be keeping or bringing the items in our place in the Mangyan's favor.

Throughout the journey, I often heard the pastor and my mother remark about certain people being Mangyan based on looks alone. Indeed, we saw Mangyan in urban places outside of the tribe communities looking for work or working currently. However, later on, when we were at Calapan Port and separated from the pastor and the youth, I did remark that that distinction of appearance would soon become hard to distinguish as indiginous individuals became more connected. I referenced immigrants and how second or third generation might be harder to distinguish specifically, leaving Americans to use very broad terms like "Asian" instead of specific ethnicities due to the difficulty.

Reapproaching our journey from the time we were heading to the other tribe, we saw a large group of coconut trees on the side of the hill. It was around this time that the youth climbed the jeep to the top where they could get a better view. This youth-at-jeepney-roof dynamic continued up to the time we were disallowed from visiting the other tribe by the barangay authorities and even afterwards.

Besides the coconut trees, we glimpsed at many other plants species as well, with many of which I was familiar. Though, I only know the appearance, and my previous first attempt at distinguishing plant species throughout my neighborhood by name has left much to be desired. Though, this initial attempt succeeded in identifying tens of plant species; however, identifying all the plant species I encountered throughout the journey will be vastly more challenging, as it would require a more in-depth visual and linguistic understanding of the dynamics characterized by these plant species collectively in the rainforests of Mindoro, which would require a series of focused observations resembling those conducted by researchers with the aid of local zoology-related research institutions, which likely don't exist with the same influence and political weight as they do in first-world countries like America.

Shifting to the time we left the relief goods, we then went to a restaurant where I heard my mother call what was likely my father because of a fight, I was asked to pray, and I ate a tofu dish, a soup dish, and maybe pork as well. I was supposed to eat halo-halo, but I was too full.

Advancing to the period after the last restaurant we visited, I, my mother, and Lyka parted ways with the pastor, the youth, the jeepney driver, and one other man with whom I was familiar in the context of the Mindoro visits assembled by my mother for relief and teaching the indiginous people with respect to urban communication and trade and modern agricultural sensibilities and technology. This was when we entered the Calapan port building and waited for a long while for the "FastCat" ship to arrive. I enjoyed my time there.

During that time, while I was there, I didn't really speak for a long while, sitting down in silence, until my mother finally reached the desk and got our tickets after a long queue. We then sat down in another part of the Calapan port building where the people who had their tickets for FastCat waited. It was here that I began to talk more and confessed to feeling uncomfortable when my mother said that the call presumably about a fight between my father and a family member was confidential. I was tired of the non-confrontational evasiveness that allowed my mother to lie for 15 years about the fact that my half-brother was a half-brother and not a full one. I was not happy with that at all, and I wouldn't let her ruin my relationship with my family just because she wanted to be evasive and confidential about it. I'm not going to sit down and watch my siblings suffer anymore. I spoke at length about how it was good that she was helping the indiginous people, but I added that it was so much more than helping people. The nuance behind the helping people was what mattered, and I said that I was going to address broader issues with my mother's behavior and the family. The people waiting on the seats alongside us nearby heard, but I made sure how I spoke was meaningful but also relatively polite and calm compared to the big implications of what I was saying. Either way, despite this interaction, I still engaged humurously and talked at length about other casual topics, because I was used to my mother and father doing the same. It was a hint that my mother's non-confrontational history has affected me to the point of leaving me skilled enough to talk calmly despite speaking about big issues and then transitioning smoothly to humor and casual topics enough to laugh and smile genuinely. It was also around this time that I was able to learn more about Lyka since she asked me if I liked violin earlier in the journey. I used that earlier conversation and called back to it when we were sitting down next to each other there while waiting for the ship. I talked about my relationship with the instruments I'm learning, singing, and music with clarity, humor, and excitement. Moreover, I talked with my mother about the coffee and even relaying my conversation with Lyka to her as well. It was enjoyable enough that once the time came for us to enter the FastCat ship, I was at ease and fell asleep inside after watching the epiloque of the movie "Wakanda Forever" in a TV screen there.

To elaborate on earlier events in the jourey, the pastor's disapproving tone and consistent callbacks to what the barangay authorities said distinguishes her personality.

After I woke up later at the end of the FastCat ship's destination at Batangas Pier, I went outside and waited for my mother for relatively long duration than expected, as she went around and looked for the platform trolley that she had tucked at the back of the ship. Once she found it, we went away from the ship and past a in-construction "phase two" of the Batangas Pier building, heading inside the Batangas Pier "phase one", the original building we were in at the start of our journey. Once we were there, we waited for a long while, as my mother charged her phone at one of the stalls inside. Then, her "GCash" was not working, leaving us to wait for what felt like an hour. I stood there, relying on the conscious movement of my toes to stand still and straight. In this time of waiting for the GCash to work, we soon went outside and went around outside Batangas Pier, passing carinderias and smoking bystanders. Soon, my mother decided to take a new route after talking with one bystander who butted in a conversation between her and Lyka about how they would get home. This bystander added his perspective, helping my mother decide better. Soon, we went to a different part outside Batangas Pier and rode a jeep. After we rode one jeep, we went down next to the point-to-point police who gave us a ride in their patrol jeep after some time waiting to no avail under their direction of where to wait for jeeps. Then, at the end of the journey of this patrol jeep, we rode a bus at the terminal, waiting only for a short while for passengers to accumulate inside in comparison to the 5 hours that my mother and Lyka had to wait in previous travels to the Mangyan. After we rode this bus to Alabang near where Starmall used to be and where buses drop passengers, we waited for a jeep. In the meantime, my mother talked with a bystander who came from Quezon City about directions, as he was getting harassed by people trying to get him to ride for expensive rather than cheap to exploit him for cash since he was new to Alabang. Afterwards, we rode one more jeep and then dropped at the intersection between the main road and the road that led to our subdivision. Here, we went home, and Lyka still arranged and organized some things in our garage for a while while I walked to Timothy and relaxed before my mother asked me to carry the bag Lyka would carry going home. My mother told me that she, I, and Lyka would go to the "kanto," but when she said that, she meant a kanto further away rather than the kanto in front of our subdivision. After we bade farewell to Lyka who was inside the tricycle with the plastic bag I brought for her, my mother and I went home.

This was a 5000-word summary of my journey, but the details therein are complex and multifaceted beyond this relatively simple explanation.