Beyond That Door
Kiel Lerio
©
Copyright 2022 by Kiel Lerio
|
Image
by Andreas from Pixabay |
It
was a year ago that we had planned an outing to relax and enjoy
ourselves after so many years just cooped up in our house. A summer
vacation to the hometown of our beloved nanny who still lives with us
until today. It was just our used-to-be-nanny for about 20+ years,
her 4-year-old child, my sister, and I who travelled. The journey
going there was smooth; with a cozy bus ride with only a few people
occupying the whole vehicle, a short trip on a huge boat called a
RORO, and a land vehicle to get to the hometown after riding the
boat. About 24 hours after our trip from the main capital, we had
arrived at our destination, the island of Catanduanes in Bicol,
Philippines.
The
beauty of Catanduanes was far more different from other provinces
that was connected by land from the capital region of the country. By
that, I meant it was more refreshing, rural, and a breathtaking sight
incomparable to the provinces near the urban. The first thing we had
noticed when we had seen the island from the railings of the boat was
that the whole island were mountain ranges with the sea surrounding
it, embracing it from being stripped barren. By the time we had left
the boat to ride a car to get to the hometown of our nanny, we spent
a few hours going up and down a narrow and steep road. The trees and
other greenery grew wildly but not to the point where it would block
the road. Everywhere you would set your eyes upon, there would be
mostly green or blue from left and right. A few dots of other colors
from the rainbow had painted flowers in the scene. The chirp of the
birds in the mountain had let us understand that the common birds in
that place were different from what we had usually heard for like in
our entire lives. With how far your sight could reach, we felt that
we could walk only a few minutes from any part of the road to get to
the rocky sand with the waves that greeted us hellos. Thus, the
driver told us when one is not in the mountains, it would only mean
they are near the seacoasts.
For
our resting place, we had rented out the store place of our nanny’s
family. They had provided us food during our one week stay. Of
course, everything was different from what we were used to compared
to the urban city— the
internet
connection was weak, language barrier was present, and there were
peculiar dos and don’ts especially at the date we had scheduled
our stay.
For
once, I forgot that our nanny was the type to believe in the
supernatural. For us Filipinos, it is actually normal, it is just for
the younger generation that is different in that aspect. When we were
young, I remembered that she told me her third eye was open. It is a
common term here which meant they can see supernatural existences.
She once told me I was pranked by a dwarf when I was a baby that
lived at the back of our house which made me sick for a week and they
had to call a shaman. Another common memory would be her common
wake-up jump scares from nightmarish premonitions. But why did these
memories suddenly come back at that time? Well, because she told us
to never open the door when someone calls from the outside. It was
because she was once attacked by an aswang or an
evil
shape-shifting creature that disguised itself as her brother beyond
that door in the same place we were going to stay as she let it come
in when it asked permission.
For
us siblings, we were not actually the easily scared type of people.
Our friends may had told us ghost stories, but we would not take it
to heart. But this was our nanny, and she never lies about the
supernatural as witnesses around her—which
include our mother, relatives, teachers—
were astonished with her decisions to remedy anything in that regard.
With
the nearing end of that first day, I could assure anyone that I did
not sleep well. Unfortunately, it did not end there.
Within
the time span of a week, we went to soak ourselves in the sea. We had
not gone to beach for about 5 years, our hearts failed to contain our
sadness of a real vacation. A real vacation, in our hearts, had a
“swimming in a beach” on top of everything else, though
we did get sunburns after all that. To go to the seacoast was the
difficult part, we had to travel down a mountain, but I had to say it
was worth it. There were about no other people in the vicinity except
us, it felt like a dream come true. The true discovery of this day
was that when I went to stand where the sea ebbs and flows back, the
cell reception suddenly went back! It was not the “when you
hear the mountain spirits, ignore it” or the “voices in
the forest that may lead any of us to being spirited away” that
were told by our nanny that should be in our minds, but the sudden
idea that we had a chance to surf the internet when near the coast.
Aside
from the sea, we also had a fun time playing at the river near the
resort. We never went to the resort because they required us to pay
to swim in the river. But beside the resort was a part of the river
that were not under their property, which meant it was free. We had
an exciting time collecting rocks and seeing beautiful blue fishes.
But another day there never came without a great surprise, it turned
out there was an upcoming religious festival. Prelude to that
festival and its float parade of a saint was the pig day. This was
the true horror of the vacation.
At
the age of seven, I had stopped eating pork. It was an unsavory
memory I carried for 14 years. I relived that day since forever
whenever I were to see pork-related dishes served. It was a cycle of
red I failed to remove. That night in my memory, the whole family ate
pork. At the same night, I tried yet the fork failed to get inside my
mouth. I had slept away the hunger, but the guilt stayed, and I had
kept everything in my mind in closed doors.
The
vacation was truly a rollercoaster of emotions, but I had wished for
it to stay in my memories as a token of bravery. Above everything
that had happened, I loved it there. I loved the hospitality, the
scenery, and their culture. Although I may not be or never be
courageous enough to open some doors I had left as is, I would be
always open to take another step forward and travel again.
Kiel
Lerio is a writing enthusiast with a passion for notebooks, crafting
notebooks, and collecting notebooks. He is about 21 years old who
just happens to almost tie every personal experience in his stories.
He is currently a college student in a state university in the
Philippines.
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