A Short Walk from Lozano Junction to Home
Begin by sharing what the conductor did on the bus and how it opened up something in you to connect to as many people as possible on the walk.
Write about the vulnerability of talking to people
I greeted a man standing on the bridge in front of his motorcycle. Obviously, a local. Obviously, listening to the rushing water below as he baths under zero humidity air.
I spoke in Pangasinan. “Ngarem ed sikayo.” (Good afternoon). But he didn’t seem to hear it. He responded in Tagalog. “Buti nalang katatapos ng ulan!” (What a good thing it just rained). Which is him editorializing on my walk. What he really meant was either “It’s good the rain is gone so you aren’t soaked walking this road” or “It’s good it rained. What a great time to walk!”
But I thought about his choice to respond to me in Tagalog, which is what people do when they think you are a stranger, a non-local, which might how I look now — a Manileño, with shoes, and a large bag, and fairer skin.
It is the old people who are along the streets
The youngsters zoom beside us on their motorcycles
See the best in others. Expect the best in others.
The way to walk the Philippines has to be an open way.
A way of walking with me, my neighbor, and nature in mind.
Like the radical walking of Phil Smith.