The Gift of Sleep
Today I slept a lot. As if melting away the tiredness up to yesterday, time slowly enveloped me. Maybe it was the rebound from getting up early. When I woke up, it was already past noon.
I had actually planned to eat breakfast, but my eyelids were heavy and my heart still lingered on the shore of dreams. In the end, I surrendered myself to a deep wave of sleep.
I felt like I had missed something. But maybe that's also part of the shape of travel. Rather than strict plans, time left to the heart's whim seems to quietly seep into me.
I'm anxious, but in the end life somehow works out.
I get ready as usual. For my shower today I again pour water from a plastic bottle over myself. Each time the cold wakes me, I feel in my body that this is not Japan.
Tomorrow is the day I return to Puerto Princesa. A five-hour bus ride, a long journey. But it'll probably work out.
Still, a small worry lingers in the corner of my chest: what if my stomach hurts again? My travels are always made up of a little 'I hope it somehow works out.'
The Laundry Shop's Bitterness
I went to the hostel reception to drop off my laundry. Today, an unfamiliar older man was sitting there.
His English was fast and his expression was prickly. The pleasant young man who helped me last time was nowhere to be seen. It seemed this was his father.
He said, "It will be done at 6 pm tomorrow," but I asked, "I'm leaving town tomorrow, could you do it sooner?"
Then he said, "Express is 100 pesos." The moment he said that, my heart sank.
Somehow it felt like being splashed with cold water. These little folds of emotion on a trip can strangely linger.
Remembering the kind son made my chest tighten even more.
As people age, do they carry heavier things on their backs? Words, experiences, expectations, resignation—
But that doesn't mean one has to let go of purity.
Even when you grow old, you should be able to live with clarity.
Yes — I want to hope for that.
The Friendliness of Filipinos
I went to a nearby cafe to write the diary I had neglected the day before yesterday. Walking along a small road, I breathed in El Nido's air.
I ordered a Hawaiian burger and avocado juice. No matter how long I waited, the juice never came.
Only the burger remained on the plate, and I ate it slowly.
But somehow that looseness started to seem endearing.
Thinking 'this is the Philippines,' I couldn't help but laugh and stopped worrying about it.
That imperfection could be so human and lovable.
Quiet Dusk and the Meaning of Being Alone
I left the cafe and walked to another sea. Today there were few tricycles, and calling one felt bothersome, so I decided to walk.
Enjoying the evening scenery.
When I reached the seaside, people stood shoulder to shoulder with friends and lovers, waiting for the sunset. I was alone.
That made me feel a little uneasy.
But at the same time, I realized something.
"How precious human connections are,"
Beautiful scenery and memories become many times more beautiful when there's someone to share them with.
There is an importance you can only understand by being alone.
Being able to notice that itself was my treasure today.
Music and the Deepening Night
The sky dyed indigo, and night began to wrap El Nido.
On the beach, Adam Port's "The Dream" was playing from somewhere. A melody like being in a dream.
I sat down and stood up, sat cross-legged, then restlessly readjusted my seat.
When I think that I came to this place on my own feet, my chest fills in a strange way.
Feelings that can't be put into words quietly descend into my heart.
I want to have at least one first-time experience each day.
Suddenly I thought, "I haven't had any new experiences today," and decided to head to McDonald's.
Eating McDonald's in such a remote, hidden place — that's another unique moment of the journey.
The shop had a long line. Mixing with the local Filipinos, I also stood in line for about 20 minutes.
For some reason, it reminded me of the McDonald's in Georgia. I was traveling then too.
What I Learned from a Friend's Message
At night, when I returned to the hostel, I received a voice message from my friend Chase.
He apparently went snowboarding alone in Niseko and made a lot of friends at the hostel.
I asked, "How did you get close to them?" and he answered like this.
— Be curious about the other person and ask questions.
Hobbies? Where are you from? What kind of friends do you have? Family? Work? Just like that, naturally.
Hearing that, I was struck.
Becoming close to people isn't difficult. Just be interested in them. Show respect.
With just that, people's hearts gradually open.
After all, everyone thinks they are the most important, and they like people who try to get to know them.
I think that is conveyed not through words but through attitude.
