Back home

BACK HOME

I have been in my new home for five days since the eve of the first. It's chilly here and the sun sets up really early and does not go down until its 8 or 9 in the pm. Fascination of the place still rules my being and sometimes I just am caught in awe of the "abrupt" change in my life. Everything still seems pretty normal, except that I am a wee bit domesticated now. I have learned to share in household chores like: doing the dishes, ironing clothes, fixing beds, etc. which I would have left to the household help back home.

Back home -- it seem strange that I would call Philippines this way. It would seem like I have left Manila for quite sometime whenever I say this but it's really how the way things are. Home is something that is a thousand of miles away. I don't know how long I would be foreign to this country or if I could be as familiar to it to be able to call my second home, but I know that Manila would always be my first home. 20 years of my existence and experiences happened in Manila and I guess it wouldn't be easy to forget that. I miss a lot of things that could only be missed back home and it's only my fifth day here. I hope it wouldn't be that hard to busy myself so that I wouldn't miss home too much. I guess, subconsciously, I would be counting the days until I could go back home.

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21

Another number added to my years of existence, another year to fill up with memories. . . another year. I had two birthdays this year. My birthday was last July 2 but since we boarded the plane going here to Toronto last July 1, I had my birthday Manila time on the plane and Toronto Time here in Ajax, Ontario. My turning 21 signifies a lot of things. Turning a new leaf, starting over or anew, leaving the past behind. 21 is also the time or rather age that I migrated to a new land. I am in a new place and hopefully, my broken heart would soon be healed. Memories of a past long gone, hopefully, would not sting me too much. Triggering of these memories would be few because the places I would frequent here are like clean slates in my memory bank. I have yet to put some memories in these places.

I am hoping now that my parents would soon see how I grew up after they ingrained in themselves my image of a helpless little clingy seven year old girl. I have hidden in my shell for too long now and I have no resort but to go and show them a new side of me: the grown up ANGEL.

*****

I am Angel. . . a newly landed immigrant.