independence (part 1 of 2)
every morning, when i wake up, i wake up to the sound of my own alarm clock, the hum of the aircon, the sound of the hot water showers and nothing else. i boil my own hot water from the coffee, pour the fresh milk i store from the fridge downstairs on the cereal i bought over the weekend. i wake up at 6am, an impossible feat for me had i woken up at home, in iloilo, where i have my mom bang the door of my own room to wake me up, barely on time to get to work at 830 in the morning…
every morning, i pass by gil puyat, ayala avenue, chino roces, and all the other street names that both sound foreign but important to me. every morning, i see skyscrapers, which do not exist in iloilo, and the unending traffic, which is only existent in iloilo at 5-7pm during workdays.
every morning, i edge my way through the multitudes rushing for the next Ayala Leveriza bus just to get on the bus, and if i’m lucky or early enough (or if some guy revives the dead art of chivalry), i get a seat for the next thirty minutes.
every morning, i use the stairs and the escalators of the underpass, and hopefully walk fast enough to get to the office on time…(actually, i do get to the office on time or else i’ll pay P100 or more, which is crucial to my existence, with everything being so expensive here.)
every morning, i go through this temporarty routine and am reminded that being here, living here, working here (and thriving here, i must say) in makati is for me, a privilege: a God-given, originating supernaturally, with all the conditions i would consider optimal to my adjustment present.
i start out with a vacation plan to release my pent-up stress from college, review, and my previous job, and end up with a job with a company i most admire and wish to become part of. wow. God is truly great.
