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Journal of a Lockdown No. 50


My friend Rac shared a photo of her sister and nieces in northern Mindanao. She wrote that she wished she were home. I messaged her that I felt the same way: I still do, even today. Ah, homesickness. The saying is true: that no other place compares to home. Home, for me, will also be our small house in St. Gabriel. I dream of going home some day, when the lockdown is lifted, and commercial flights are available.

The temperatures are feverish in South Cotabato now. At least that's what Nanay tells me. I imagine the quiet street outside. At midday, almost everyone would be indoors to escape the heat. My brothers and I would be inside, taking naps, reading books, watching TV, or, in Sean's case, computer gaming. At 3 PM, the flurry of household activity would resume. It would involve, but would not be limited to, my brothers cooking something in the kitchen. I don't know why my brothers are so good in the kitchen, when I can only barely manage to fry an egg properly.

Sean made his own flatbread a few days ago. Manong prepares singang, pasta, adobo—in short, real home-cooked meals. They share photos of their culinary creations in our private chat group. The photo above was a peach-mango pie Manong baked for me as my potluck contribution to our high school reunion. It was a hit.


  1. Drooling over that pie. I bet it's so much better than Jollibee's.


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