I took this photo sometime in January, when I had no idea that the world would come to this. I mean—who knew? What was I thinking then? Perhaps, around this time, after I had finished fellowship training, I would be at home in Marbel, reviewing for the board exams scheduled in July, working part time in a hospital or a chemo unit. In between review sessions, I would swim at the SMRAA pools, spend the afternoon weekend at Sean's dental clinic, and maybe take driving lessons. On that hot January day, I took the train from the hospital to Central Station. It was the fastest route, and I only had a short window to claim my new 10-year passport. There were no people in masks. I did not get paranoid when I stood beside someone who coughed. I needed a new passport for my trip to India, which pushed through in February, and to Japan, which never materialized. The DFA at SM Manila was efficient, thorough, polite: I felt, for the first time, that I was not dealing with the government.