I Left My Heart In Dumaguete City
There's just a lot to miss about that place.
It’s been over a month since I returned home from Dumaguete City, and while I am glad to be back, especially since I had really missed our cats, there are still moments when the world seems to stop and all I can think of is that place.
The yearning is so intense that I sometimes wake up thinking I am still in my bed in Davao Cottage, where my co-fellows and I stayed for the duration of the 61st Silliman University National Writers Workshop. I then have a mini-heart attack knowing I might be late for that day’s workshop session in the Anthropology Museum Conference Room located inside the university’s Hibbard Hall. I tell myself that since I no longer have enough time to walk to Pulido Hall, where meals were usually served, I’ll just drop by Rollin’ Pin and get my usual—bagel with cream cheese and iced cafe latte—to go.
But I suddenly realize that I am no longer in Dumaguete. I am, in fact, in our apartment in Makati City. There’s no workshop session to attend, only another shift to get through at work. There’s no nearby Rollin’ Pin. Instead, the bagel I am about to get is from Tattooed Baker. It’s actually very good, but it’s not the same.
The next thing I know, I am already dwelling on the fact that I cannot do a quick coffee run at Kohi, which is right across from Davao Cottage. If I want to grab some beer, I definitely can’t do it at Casablanca.
If I suddenly feel in the mood for some iced cappuccino, I cannot just flag down a pedicab and ask the driver to bring me to Sans Rival Bistro. I can’t spontaneously hang out at The Bricks Hotel, which serves good coffee and meals, either.
I can’t even satisfy my fried chicken cravings at Crispy King, so I may have to make do with whatever Uncle John’s can offer. It serves good fried chicken, sure, but then again, it’s not the same.
Or, maybe that’s the point: After that workshop, during which I got to know more about Dumaguete City and the people I went through the experience with and with whom I shared countless meals while exchanging stories, nothing is meant to stay the same.