Tell Me a Story of Your Youth: Batanes Photo Diary

Tell me a story of your youth.

I'd like to know your wildest dreams. How was your first encounter with rain, sunburn, sand, and ocean? Tell me about the time when worry was not yet in your vocabulary. What was your nickname back then?  Do you remember your deepest wounds? Mine was on my left knee. I still admire the scars until now. 

We went to the edge, to experience the tip of an imagined border in the Northernmost part of the Philippines. It's an understatement and a cliche' to share that it's been my dream to be here, but my overexcited senses and contented heart have nothing left to express but 'Thank you'. 

I went with my college best friend, who also happen to carry the same name as mine. You know how there are people you encounter, and you just know that the world meant for you to meet?

The moment our feet touched the island of Batan, we were greeted by a good omen in the form of a rainbow. Everything else that followed was a montage of raw beauty, mixed with surge of adrenaline and "teenage" impulsiveness. 

We literally rolled down hills, rode our bikes to the boulder beach, had breakfast by the sea, crawled through tunnels used as shelters in WWII, read and wrote about dreams and stories of gratitude in a library of half-written books.

Soft, giant waves rolled gently underneath our flimsy boat on our way to the island of Sabtang. As the movies would have it, dolphins raced beside us. 

You know how there are places that make you feel so furiously alive? I'd like to believe that every place is beautiful in the sense that they each have their stories to tell, but honestly, Batanes holds a special place in my memory. 

We lay on the grass beside the lighthouse while watching the most breathtaking moonrise we've ever seen. We proceeded to count shooting stars. 1, 2, 3... and then there were just so many. 

And oh, the Milky Way! How weird and humbling it was to have it right before our eyes, and yet know for a fact that we are a part of it, too. But there it was, hanging out with us on the edge. 

There was a deep, aching feeling that maybe we've been missing out on a lot, like there's so much more for us to experience, feel, express, and think about. We have not yet witnessed the sublime. And maybe that's what we're all yearning for all along; together with the hope of someday achieving this, too. Whatever that means for you.

You know, I cried a lot during this trip. I remember standing between rolling hills while the boundless ocean in front of me. I've never experienced such vastness before. 

And for someone so small and inaudible, the universe still attended to the slightest detail. Words under my breath rolled, "Ganito pala ang pakiramdam ng unti-unting natutupad ang mga pangarap. Salamat." (So this is what it feels like to have your dreams slowly come true. Thank you.) 

We always find ourselves saying that this is something we'd remember when we grow old, assuming that we will. And if we do get there, I'd like to tell people where I'm from. 

I realized on this trip that people do have their place in this world. I believe I'm slowly beginning to find mine. Thank you for the chance to be alive, for friends that become family, and for dreams that come true.

Having gone to the edge makes me feel that there's something else beyond. Reaching the imagined limit made me realize that there's no such thing as 'end', but instead, our notion of 'limit' just continues to stretch and expand to somewhere far from where we stand. 

And right now, this is my youth. 

 Tell me a story of yours.