Blurry, But Unforgettable
It was sometime in the late 80s. I remember riding a jeep to Calbiga, one of the municipalities in Western Samar, together with my Uncle Leo a few days before its fiesta . Yearly attendance in the said occassion had been a family tradition, and me and Uncle Leo went ahead to help with the preparations. Being a kid at that time, I found the trip long and boring. But even then, I already knew how to appreciate the beauty of the natural scenery unfolding before me, and I still remember how the countryside looked like to this day. The next day (or later that day), my mom arrived together with my siblings and some of my cousins, and treated us to a snack at a nearby eatery. After the treat, Mom toured us around town before going back to my grandmother's house for dinner. The ambiance of the place had been one common of fiestas - busy hosts rushing last minute preparations, mobile stores selling toys and balloons scattered everywhere, students returning from the cities disembark