When we weren’t on a mission to tick off errands, itineraries and checklists, my sisters and I were on a mission to EAT!
I swear to God, it almost felt gluttonous. Not that I was guilty as I’m sure God understood our general deprivation from good ol’ Filo food and we only had two weeks — not even — to get our hands on ngohiong, lechon, puso, kinilaw, barbecue, lambay, utan bisaya, Potato Corner, Mang Inasal, and Jollibee. Amongst many other local delicacies, obviously, because I’ve never eaten so much food at such a short span of time in my life!
Okay, I lied. I eat a lot. Like, A LOT. It’s not something worth bragging about but at the same time, it’s also kind of like a talent. Or should I say, a mortal sin.
Anyway, even though food seemed to be the highlight of our trip, it actually wasn’t. We were there *strictly* for business. Some serious sisterly bonding, that’s what.
Just the three of us the whole time, all the time. I don’t know how we managed not to disown each other at the end of the trip. It was nothing short of a miracle.
But yes, it was kiiiiiinda annoying how May-Ann knocked in mine and El’s room at bloody 6:00 in the morning because she was still jetlagged and couldn’t sleep and wanted to attend the 7am mass at a nearby church all at the same time!
She was in a separate room on a floor above us. My mistake was in replying to the group chat when she asked, Are you guys awake yet?
And as soon as she saw the ellipsis actively going on my reply, that was it. She was down Metrocentre Hotel’s elevator in no time and wouldn’t let me nor El off the hook in going for what she sold as “a lovely early morning walk to church.”
“Come with me!” she said.
“It’s gonna be a fun walk,” she persuaded.
“There’s a lot of nice architectural stuff you can take pictures of along the way,” she bribed.
Because she knows that while I’m not exactly a big fan of going to church, I’m a sucker for its architecture especially if it’s an old one.
Which it was.
So there I was.
At a time I could’ve spent sleeping!
Although to be honest, my body clock was already at 10am Melbourne time which was why I was already wide awake at 6am. The real victim here was El who, amongst the three of us, had traveled the farthest across the opposite side of the world and was still sluggishly operating at French time.
I don’t regret being scammed by May-ann, though. It was actually a refreshing walk and the church turned out to be a beautiful cathedral called St. Joseph the Worker Cathedral Shrine, with its stunning bell tower made out of Roman Catholic faith and coral stone sometime between 1884 and 1888.
The interior was just as captivating, I have to say. I probably looked like I had autism the way I was craning my neck staring at the paintings on the ceiling. Definitely worth my time, 100%.
And, in fairness to me, I did listen to the day’s gospel. Something about being wary of the leper that is shrouded in hypocrisy because what is concealed will be revealed. Something like that. It made me think deeply about Hansen’s disease and its metaphorical symbolism for spiritual decay. Like everything else in the scripture, open to individual interpretation depending on your own state of enlightenment. Nothing to argue about here.
Although, interestingly, if it’s your soul’s salvation you want, buying nine candles at the shops next door might just do the trick.
In my case, what I needed was refuge from the intensifying heat! And so I bought a folding hand fan. The second largest one I could find. I would’ve bought the biggest size that could easily fan three people in one go but it wouldn’t fit in my bag and so I settled with the one I got, hoping I would go to heaven because I’m not sure if my fan and I will be able to withstand hell’s heat.
While I’m here, shoutout to my favourite apostle, Saint Jude Thaddeus. Patron Saint of desperate cases and lost causes. Patron Saint of the impossible.
He’s the main reason I passed my Nursing licensure exam.
