The itinerant in me physically and figuratively go places and wanders through the color of the human soul...
Wednesday, 26 May 2010
Panghagban, Buenavista
At least it is the place called home by my tatay. He was born in the area and knows the place by heart. He is proud to say they domesticated the entire place. Translation: they cut down trees and razed down the grasslands in favor of rice fields and pastures for the livestock.
My early memories of the place was hard work. We used to take the 10 k walk to visit my grandparents. No amount of rationalization as to modern convenience could convince us that the walk was hard but easier now. For kids used to the tricycle, it was truly excruciating. However, we easily forgot how difficult the walk was with the thought of novelty... going to the stream, climbing on hills and being the center of attention.
Last weekend, I returned to Panghagban. Nothing much changed. The hills rolled minus its greenery. It is as if time stood still for the people to ravage the land or forage on it.
May change ever happen...
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