The sun had already hidden behind the mountains of Sagada and the cold mist of the night was starting to embrace all souls. An hour of rolling and crawling in the bowels of the Sumaging Cave left me soppy and dirty, but far from cold.
I walked and walked with my eyes fixed up high looking as the stars appeared slowly in the sky. Then I realized I have walked past the hotel I was staying.
I didn’t turn back, I didn’t know why but I kept on walking and found myself in front of an Anglican church. Its lights were on but its doors were shut.
So I turned around and noticed the two shadows emanating from me, both seemed to face each other as if engaged in dialogue.
I still didn’t want to go back to our room, even though I knew they must be worried sick about me. The night was young, the cold wind was just right for a little meeting of my heart and mind. I walked to the basketball court, sat on the carved out bleachers surrounding it. I closed my eyes and felt the elements around me.
Then I heard the rustling of paper being turned. A girl had sat a few meters from me and by the almond-shape of her eyes and pale skin, I could see she was a foreigner. She fingered through the pages of her hardbound book and when she found the page she was looking for, she pulled out a pen and stared into the sky. Every now and then she would write something then stare at the stars again. It was like poetry just watching her.
I just sat there looking at her and for the first time that day, I felt at peace. This stranger, who may be oblivious of my existence, never realized she had reached out to another human being.
Reach out. Have I ever done that to another before? To a complete stranger, that is.
“Pre, nandiyan ka lang pala,” I heard Richard’s voice from behind. “Kanina ka pa namin hinahanap.”
I instinctively stood up and walked toward him.
“May problema ka ba?” he asked.
I said no and started walking with him to the hotel. We were nearing the building when I realized I should have done something before I called it a night.
“Pre, mauna ka na. Just give me five minutes,” I told him and I went back to the basketball court.
She was still there. I took one deep breath and approached her.
“Hi, I hope you don’t mind, but I was looking at you for a few minutes now and I was just wondering what is it you’re reading or writing that is worth hurting your eyes in this dimly lighted place.”
She looked at me, smiled and said, “Can you please speak slowly? My English is not that good.”
I repeated my question. “I’m writing on my diary,” she said as she showed me a red hardbound book.
“My name’s Mj,” I said as I extended my hand. She took it and gave it a tender shake.
“I’m Mei.”
“How do you spell that? Is it M-a-y?”
“No. It’s M-e-i. I’m Korean.”
“North or South?” I asked.
She laughed and I realized it might have seemed like a joke to her.
“I’m from South Korea. Do you live here?”
“No. I’m from Manila. How about you, do you live here?”
“I’m staying there,” she said as she pointed to a building beside the church. “I’m a volunteer and I’m really staying in Panawi.”
I’ve never heard of such a place so I asked her where Panawi is, thinking it’s a city in Korea. She tried to describe it, with mountains and rice terraces till I realized she was referring to Banawe.
“Yes. Banawe. Sorry,” she apologized.
“It’s ok,” I said.
We talked nonsense the whole night till she bid farewell when she noticed the lights on the building she was staying was turned off.
I said goodbye and walked back to our rooms realizing Sagada is the one place on Earth where no one is a stranger.
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