Ever notice those mornings that are "too early"? I guess this is one of those. Today, the sun rose too early in the town of Canhabagat. Not that the sun is lazier in my town of Minglanilla, 80 miles away, but I think the province life has its charms.
One of those happens to charm us into slowing down and taking in the morning air, as deeply and slowly as we can.
We arrived at Medellin last night after a 5-hour bus trip. With butts still sore, we had to crawl our way to bed at 9:00 pm. This is early for us night owls who are used to being rocked to sleep by "blue lights" past midnight!
We came late for the birthday party, which happened the night before. My partner had to make it up to her dad for not being able to come to his birthday.
This means that we'll have paksiw for breakfast. A Filipino dish usually cooked from leftover lechon (roasted pork). Sweet, savory, and embraced with soy sauce umami. Is this cheat day?
It's my first time staying here. So you can consider me an accidental tourist.
You had to jam-pack an entire day fast, like a timed shopping spree for Instagrammable sights.
But today, we're simply locals. Living here as mindfully as we can. I never thought slowing down could give us so much variety
We went foraging for shellfish early morning at this beach they call Daplin. The tide was low, waters cold. As we tread the cold waters, the sun was giving us a very welcoming warmth. I'm pretty sure it was God. When moments later my partner and I had a fight over the smallest things, I was still sure it was some sort of divine intermission.
Take note: intermission, not intervention. I'd like to think God has a bit of mischievous humor and likes to spice things up a bit with some chaos.
The universe has some OCD in balancing things.
I tread the waters slowly, so as not to stir the sand underneath. When shellfishing, you'd want the waters to stay clear. Knees bent and eyes prying like a hunter, I imagined myself like Steve Irwin moving slowly in the waters, about to grapple an alligator nearby. Except my alligator is a tiny white clam with absolutely zero chance of escape.
Still feels like one hell of an adventure.
shellfishing (foraging) @ 6:00am
We had lunch when we got back to their home, another bowl of Paksiw for me. I'd pull a shred of pork and wrap it around a piece of Thai chili. Dip it in coconut vinegar and eat it like some sort of sushi.
30 mins after the meal, my blood pressure was surprisingly normal. Instead of being grateful, I was looking confused as I looked at the pressure monitor. Is it broken? This can't be right. God is pulling off something fishy.
We, the older weirdos, went picking Caimito fruits from the tree with a wooden stick and lying on the makeshift bamboo bed under the tree's shade for an afternoon nap.
I showed my son around everyday things. A deep well, free-range chickens, and even goat's poop that reminds him of the boba tea we had the day before.
He learned a lot. I felt proud.
At 4:00 pm, we craved lechon manok (roasted chicken). So we drove our motorcycle to the neighborhood of Curva and enjoyed the sights on the way there.
We had 2 whole roasts for 250 pesos each (~ USD $5) and 5 pieces of roasted chicken necks for 10 pesos each (5 for ~$1).
lechon manok @ Curva
We had a great meal. I read a book, closed the lights at 9, and called it a day.
Back at home, I've been avoiding certain foods, exercises, and trying to sleep as early as I can. I have been suffering from hypertension these past couple of weeks and I'm trying my best to get the numbers down to normal.
It's a bit like finding out you've been running the wrong way in a marathon and deciding to walk back while everyone else sprints past. There I was, the human equivalent of a confused pigeon in a world of homing pigeons, marveling at the sky and forgetting the race entirely.
Who knew that one of the ways to health wasn't in pushing harder but in the art of gracefully stumbling over my own feet, away from the finish line?
I learned that living the day to night as mindfully as we can adds to our years.
