At 8 a.m. I suddenly woke up. Ping and Chelle still seemed to be asleep, and the door was quiet. A pang of anxiety passed through me—"maybe they've left me behind," such a thought crossed my mind. But I felt bad about waking them, so I waited quietly by the door. After getting myself ready and returning to bed once more, Ping knocked on the door and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Around 10 o'clock, we decided to head to Rachelle's aunt's house. Maybe because I had worked until 2 a.m. the night before, my body felt heavy. The house we arrived at had a whole collection of whiskies lined up, and a statue of Jesus at the entrance. It was a home where faith ran deep.
Breakfast felt like a celebration. Dried fish, scrambled eggs, coconut pancakes, and a beef-and-banana stir-fry. Each dish was packed with Filipino warmth, and all were flavors I was trying for the first time. The banana stir-fry was especially shocking, but surprisingly delicious. Scooping up sweet Guimaras mangoes with a spoon and bringing them to my mouth made a smile come naturally.
To work up an appetite, next we went to the beach. Invited by Ping, I went to the sea with Ela. Ten-year-old Ela was fluent in English and it felt as if I were talking to an adult.
We talked about shells, about swimming, and a small world expanded before us. I was reminded again that not treating children like children is important. At the sea... believe it or not, there was poop floating (laughs). That shocking reality is also part of traveling locally.
After Ping took my photo, she gave me a handmade coconut pouch. With the word 'Gimaras' engraved on it, it was a treasure that gently enclosed the memories of my trip. After changing clothes, it was finally time to head to the mango festival.
There was a long line for the all-you-can-eat mangoes.
In the end we gave up and bought mangoes, mango wine, and mango pizza from a stall. Drinking shakes with Ela, I felt the sweetness of Guimaras fill my whole body.
After that, we headed to the tall white windmills. I couldn't help but admire Ping's driving. While taking photos at the foot of the windmills, I suddenly became interested in how wind power generation works.
On the way back, we boarded the boat with the car. I peeled and bit into the mango Rachelle handed me with my hands, without a knife.
That sweetness deepened the afterglow of the trip even more. Rachelle even took the mango pit from my hand after I finished eating. The Filipinos' relaxed, 'don't-worry' kind of kindness warmed my heart.
At night we went to a Japanese restaurant. The takoyaki didn't have octopus inside. Tonkotsu ramen had white mushrooms. Both in taste and appearance it was 'Japanese-style,' but what was there was Filipino-ness. Rachelle and Ping looked at the menu with fascination.
There was an ATM problem at the end, but it was resolved safely. On the way to the hotel, I expressed my thanks for the three days. I handed over Japanese souvenirs and photos and said goodbye to Ping and Rachelle.
A connection AJ helped make. Because Ping and Rachelle were there, I was able to spend time that could only be experienced in Guimaras. Worth more than the 130,000-yen travel cost — an irreplaceable experience.
If I had to name the countries in Southeast Asia I truly like now, they'd be Vietnam, Indonesia, and the Philippines. Especially in terms of people's warmth, the Philippines was overwhelming.
