Have I been away from the town too long that I lost my connection and thought that life in Cabatuan stood still when I went away? The answers, yes. Although I have my occasional visits, but I have failed to see that C is changing, perhaps growing.

    Random searches on the internet that led me to CABATUAN.COM page made me realize that. I felt little and disappointed about myself to let pass information that I should know and get myself involved with. Information, which before I hear through a mob of umaluhukan in a nearby tiange when I buy my afternoon merienda, is the same information that I get in my bedroom, minus the teren-teren, of course. These information, stories, are part of who I am- my heritage.

    I'm a twenty-something. I had my time when the feeling of I-can-conquer-the world was still pulsating in my nerves. I have taught in the country's oldest institution and currently teaching in an international school. In my younger years, I have dreamed of leaving the country for better grazing, but I always find myself pulled closer to my hometown, by fate or choice.

    In my self-mandated morning walk, I have this pleasant feeling everytime I walk by the plaza to the market. I don't simply look around, I observe and recollect what it was then and the memories that goes with it. Now that I'm an unfamiliar face with a sinister amused smile, probably morning joggers would say to themselves, "Ah, buang guro ja hay." My mind is my own. Beyond what people say because of my self-absorbed expression, I know that I have good stories to tell about Rizal and Bonifacio, of the Virgin Mary and San Lorenzo.

    Next year, or school year in my time, I'm touching base for good. I cannot resist, for resistance is futile as Dr. House says. Anyway, there's no place like Cabatuan. It's home.