I came here on November 15 via Philippine Airlines where only approximately five passengers were not Filipinos. I had a smooth 16-hour flight though for the most part I was crying there in my seat and I endured it mostly with a blank stare. My port of entry was San Francisco California, an hour away from my destination San Jose. I saw the night lights of The Bay Area from up above for the first time. As I was deplaning, I was half-hearted because half of me was excited, but half of me was missing the Philippines already. The official start of winter was almost to welcome me along with my then fiance, his mom, and his brother. So here I am, and so this is America...
Fresh cold clean weather, multi-lane highways, good traffic, and beautiful trees were just some of the many that I noticed in an instant. The sight was just so organized, there is a system, and there is a set of rules that everybody is inclined to follow. Life is fast-paced and that explains why cars and people are almost always too speedy.
Then there was silence as we were nearing the house. I was already expecting silence, which to me is the ultimate dreadful damage that could impair my social being. I didn't hear anything else aside from the noise we were creating inside the house - and that was not even a noise at all as we were just like whispering to each other and using one-liner sentences every time. No barking dogs, no neighbor doing late night KTV sessions, and not a sound of any vehicle outside. I was about to prepare myself for ultimate boredom, but I wasn't geared up.
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