My Island in the Sun
/Looking back, I miss my days of youth on a speck of an island, among the 7,641 in the Philippine archipelago, where at low tide, about a hundred more come up for a breath of sea air and to be counted.
I miss the turtle-paced life, with open homes where everyone knew everyone else, where comings and goings were done by just walking…and walking… and where a lonely sand-and-gravel truck at the edge of town was an attraction for some 5,000 families.
I miss life on the island where goods and services were mainly bartered and or exchanged. I miss a living defined by unguarded simplicity, kindness, and “bayanihan,” or helping and looking out for each other; volunteerism.
I miss the freshness of sea air, fruits, vegetables, and flora, sprung from the island’s skin of brown-reddish soil, nourished and sweetened by the tropical seasons. I miss as well the offerings of a hundred and one sea creatures circling the emerald waters.
I miss the magnificent sunsets, each one different from dusk to dusk, limitless in hues and composition, as only the heavens can render.
But now, more than a few lifetimes removed, when a black moon visits and I face the vicissitudes of life, when I fear I can’t cope, when I smell the world putrefying, I fly with the birds to a place I once knew. A tranquil, happy, humane, carefree place where impertinent noises, and turbulent voices of violence, alternative truths, and mangled realities were unheard.
Yes, I miss Cuyo, island of my youth. I have always missed it.
Noni Mendoza continues to explore his artworks, consults in land planning and landscape architecture, and pursues his passion for Tai Chi Chuan. Visit his sites at www.artworks.nonimendoza.com andwww.nonimendoza.com.
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