Yesterday, an essay I wrote for YoungStar came out. The editors wanted some of their contributors to write love letters to their hometowns and I told Marga, the editor-in-chief that it would have to be a love/hate letter, if she really was going to ask me to write a letter to my family’s hometown of Bacolod.
She said she’d love it. So I wrote one and this is what came out.
Read my essay here: Musings from a fake Ilonggo (YoungStar).
If you are a regular reader of my blog, you know how I feel about Bacolod. You’ve seen various entries already about being there and how I felt while I was there. I was just there recently, actually, having a very wonderfully emotional time with my family over the last week of January.
From the essay:
I just felt like an outsider all the time. I’m from Bacolod but I could never speak the language — everyone there does. There’s a languid pace and you could get anywhere in less than half an hour, even if you were going to the next town, and I couldn’t take living at that speed.
It’s there now. Out in print for anyone to read. For a long time, I thought that this was just something I told my friends or the ones who read my blog would know about me. But it’s out there now in the open for everyone to read.