This morning, as I sipped my turmeric-blended coffee, a Facebook post barged into my feed like an urgent knock on a peaceful door. It wasn’t just another travel blog or a dreamy Siargao sunset. It was a cry for help, a roar of resistance. It came from a frustrated local, someone who had seen enough of what she called “terrorizing behavior” from a group of tourists—specifically, ‘Israeli’ nationals—treating Siargao not like a guesthouse of peace but a battlefield of entitlement.
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Archives for Travel
Exactly 23 Years Ago
It’s exactly 23 years back. 1998. February 11. 3:12 am. “In a few moments, we will land in Mehrabad International Airport,” an IranAir flight attendant in navy blue hijab assured with a smile the drowsy passengers to a seven-hour flight from Kuala Lumpur to Tehran. A score of fellow students from Mindanao and I were fetched by a minibus at the airport and transported to Qazvin, a city over 100 kilometers away. After taking a sumptuous breakfast in Karaj in
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If Only I Could…
If there were any immovable object that I have taken picture of the most number of times within that week, it was no other than the statue of a man on the clock, displayed on the wall of the Intercontinental Hotel where we were billeted for seven days. The man is either trying to stop the movement of the clock’s hand, or putting it back. Either way, the message is the same: “If only I could turn back time…” I
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