I'm in love.
I'm in love with the play of light upon the mountains and the glitter on the sea. I'm in love with the long-lost constellations in the night sky mirrored but not drowned out by the city. I'm in love with the golden sunlight filtering through the flowers and trees that line the road.
Cancel my return flight, Mom. I'll just stay here!
I know there's more to Cebu than what I've seen. I've spent just half a day here, and I know first impressions aren't infallible. I want to stay here until I'm sick of Cebu, until I miss Manila terribly. Manila has my family and my friends, but here there are nearby parks that aren't choked by malls and restaurants, here there are skies that are not yet flooded by light...
If I don't get accepted into UToronto and Cebu Institute of Technology is as interesting as Cherry Sta. Romana and Jigger Escario are, I'll look into studying there. Will I be too out of touch if I do that? PLUG activity is Manila-centric; most groups are. Will I be able to spark activity around me? I should find out how the local tech scene is. Chances are, they're doing really cool things without telling the rest of the Philippines.
Perhaps tomorrow I'll see the bigger picture and decide Manila is much nicer, but tonight I will go to sleep in love with a city. It might just be a passing thing. It might not be.
On our way back from Infoweapons (and on the prowl for non-fried places to eat), Paolo and I spotted a brightly-lit cafe with Japanese characters sprayed on its windows. We stood there for a moment, deciphering the inscription: ÃƒÂ¥Ã‚Â–Ã‚Â«ÃƒÂ¨Ã‚ÂŒÃ‚Â¶ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â¨ÃƒÂ¨Ã‚Â»Ã‚Â½ÃƒÂ©Ã‚Â£Ã‚ÂŸ. Tea house and snacks. Coffee and snacks. Something like that.
Then we saw the bookshelves overflowing with manga.
We went in and stared at the manga collection for a moment. I amused myself by trying to translate the sign posted above the bookshelf. The English caption mentioned Japanese people who want to converse with Cebuanos. Being neither Japanese nor Cebuano, I wondered if they'd let me come and practice Japanese anyway. A look at the clientele—old Japanese businessmen, pretty Filipinas—and at the high prices posted, and Paolo and I looked at each other and laughed. It might be like one of those snack bars I saw in Shinjuku...
Hmm. Maybe we can have a cup of hot chocolate / coffee and read as much as we want. Maybe Wednesday. Hehehe...
ÃƒÂ§Ã‚Â§Ã‚ÂÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â¯ÃƒÂ¥Ã‚Â¦Ã‚Â¹ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â«ÃƒÂ¦Ã‚Â–Ã‚Â°ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â—ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â„ÃƒÂ£Ã‚Â‚Ã‚Â³ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂƒÃ‚Â³ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂƒÃ‚Â”ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂƒÃ‚Â¥ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂƒÃ‚Â¼ÃƒÂ£Ã‚Â‚Ã‚Â¿ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂƒÃ‚Â¼ÃƒÂ£Ã‚Â‚Ã‚Â’ÃƒÂ¤Ã‚Â½Ã‚Â¿ÃƒÂ£Ã‚Â‚Ã‚ÂÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â›ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â¦ÃƒÂ£Ã‚Â‚Ã‚Â„ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â£ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚ÂŸÃƒÂ£Ã‚Â€Ã‚Â‚ I let my sister use my new computer.