It was in the seventh year of my existence that I started traveling.
It was then that I went with my biological father to Baguio City, where I experienced ramp modeling and staying at a very haunted mansion.
It was also the same age I went to Davao City with my grandmother and my aunt to visit our relatives. Riding an airplane for the first time. Having a granduncle clap every time I took a bite of leche flan. Playing and fighting with my cousins. Seeing an eternity of rice grains on the ground. Watching Hawaiian dancers in a bowling alley. Getting confused in their attic's architecture. A scary, impromptu dentist visit.
It has been almost two decades ago, but the memory stays. The love for moving around stays.
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