Sunday, September 18, 2011
The last time we were in Manila, I dragged my husband to the usual places. I had this mesmerized look on my face and blurted exclamations of wonder the whole time. I didn't even notice, until he said that for someone who grew up in Manila, I was acting too much like a tourist.
I was about to say that it has changed significantly from the last time we visited, which I then remembered was barely a month prior. Fine. I hailed a cab to Greenbelt. Maybe lunch would lift his mood. As we were combing through the line of restos, I kept on snapping our pics among the greenery.
"See? There you go again," he said.
Of all places, we ended up in Max's. Again. He ordered sinigang, crispy pata and extra rice. After the meal, we headed to Levi's, where he meticulously picked only the Philippine-made jeans. We then crossed to Landmark where he hoarded bottles of calamansi, Close Up, Rexona, and Tide.
As I now file the neglected photos from that trip, I find myself browsing through our pictures from years ago. We have aged since then, but that wasn't what caught my attention. The once distinct-looking boys (one Chinese, the other Pinoy) on the screen now look so much alike.
I smiled at one of the photos. Somewhere in between Landmark and Glorietta, the tourist and his local companion stood patiently in line for a cab. As to which one was which, now I couldn't really tell.
photo from here