By Tony Mina
Halfway to twilight, these Restless Soles were still scouring the narrow streets in that small community in Barangay Punong, Toril, Davao City asking for the exact location of a Taiwanese Shipwreck. Then, a group of kids, promised with a P20 peso note, led us towards nearly maze-like alleyways and across a bamboo bridge just sturdy enough to hold my weight.
Halfway to twilight, these Restless Soles were still scouring the narrow streets in that small community in Barangay Punong, Toril, Davao City asking for the exact location of a Taiwanese Shipwreck. Then, a group of kids, promised with a P20 peso note, led us towards nearly maze-like alleyways and across a bamboo bridge just sturdy enough to hold my weight.
And there it was. Fallen. Unmoving. Beaten. A shipwreck which could never have a chance to be raised again...
Our long walk was a seasoned groping in a dungeon.
It was fearsome. Because we knew nobody in the place.
It was fearless. Because we pursued.
We trod like we slipped back into introspection -- back into the wreckage of the past that may have humbled, strengthened, fortified, and molded our spirits all along, back into the roads of life with wreckage of poached experiences, of run-down inadequacies and half finished loves.
We left the place feeling relieved and adequate. We literally left a wreckage. I left some memories. I left there my run-down wreckages that should not be redeemed albeit forever buried. I knew I was now a new man.
But hey, I left there too my P20 pesos!
