Place To Remember

When I came back to my birth barrio after how many years, I cannot just remember any memories, childhood memories I mean. After all my Nanay told me I was just barely four years old when we moved to Cagayan de Oro from Bukidnon. I remember though a light year of traveling then, the smell of buses, the language of trucks, peddlers in bus terminals and well, the carsick. I hate traveling then. I was wondering why Marcos didn't make a straight road from Bukidnon to Cagayan de Oro, I would be comfortable traveling than wishing my whole life when do we gonna arrive in that city. It was a dread of travel than an excitement of getting there actually, after all I will be dead the time we get there. So I ask my cousin where is the harvest be? He pointed gladly with his lips. I know what It means. It's far. "Where exactly"? I protested. "You see that hills"? Yap! "behind that". It was no joke. A five kilometers of twenty degrees elevation. I walked, he was running. I was catching my breath, he was laughing. I thought by time we'll get up there I would be very exhausted. I was wrong. I felt more energetic than when I woke up at four thirty. It was chilly and foggy, but when we reached there I was sweating though the sun has just woke up. "Haha, I woke first than the sun". I'm not a morning guy. It will change and It did. Now I sleep at 1 am the earliest I still have to wake up before five in the morning, but as a vocation than an obligation.