I miss Dumaguete City, the city for the transient. People, undergraduate students in particular, consider the City of Gentle People their temporary homes, their magical abode where their dreams start and eventually flourish. And through the years, countless faces have come and left this city to begin a more demanding life outside this magical place.
But there is something about Dumaguete that enchants the temporary settlers to go back and reminisce the stories shared with the tides crushing against Rizal Boulevard. It is as if the city holds an unknown charm, a secret potion that captivates, that lures us into visiting her once in a scheduled vacation leave.
One of the memorable experiences during my stint as a temporary settler is the required ferry rides from my local Dipolog City en route Dumaguete. The four-hour ferry ride is a journey made of conversations and visual feast. The hours are spent enjoying the immaculate sunset, the surprise visit from the engaging dolphins, and the warm talks from fellow students and chums.
And from afar, a passenger watches in glee as a huge strip of light begins to visualize as the ferry approaches Dumaguete. The strip is from the lamps illuminating the Rizal Boulevard.
Ayos. Hapit na ta mudunggo. (Nice. We are about to dock.)
No comments:
Post a Comment