Congratulations to the Rotor Awards for Literature finalists!

I had so much fun writing the story. The process took me at least two to three months, since I'm a slow writer. I lived in my character's head during those times. After submission (because at some point, I just had to accept that there would always be errors in grammar or syntax, and improvements could always be made), I'd almost forgotten all about the story, the way I would temporarily forget about my students the moment the semester ends and a new one begins. I had, in a sense, already moved on. 

Last Friday I received the news from my chat groups that my work is a finalist to this prestigious competition. It was when I'd remembered "Nap9" again. 

What amplifies my joy is seeing friends on this list: Dr. Elvie, who had just won a Palanca for a children's short story, and whose poetry I adore; and Dr. Mich, whose novel ("Before High School Ends") I have yet to read. Shipping seems to take a very long time, and I can't wait to read her young adult fiction.

In the non-fiction category, I'm glad to see the names of Dr. Rey, who excels in both fiction/non-fiction categories, having published his stories in the Free Press; and Ma'am Sonia, who was a mentor during my training in Internal Medicine at the Philippine General Hospital, and whose work was included in a post-pandemic special issue of The Filipino Internist. 

The reward of writing is the process of living in my created world. In my imaginations, I am grasping for the tone and words to share with the reader what I see and hear from that window of life. This is then followed by the satisfaction of having written. But I am thrilled—and for this, I give thanks to God Almighty, from Whom all the great stories emerge—to be recognized. 

Typecast 14: Traveling with high school friends

 

(Click image to enlarge. I used a Hermes Baby 3000 to write this.)

The first order of business when I return from a trip is to write about it. 

I get asked what my favorite travel destination is. I say it's the most recent trip I'd been to.

My answer is invariably the same, but also varies depending on what time the question is asked. For instance, if you ask me that now, my answer would be Taipei, because that's where I traveled for the first time with my high school friends. I had been to Taiwan before, but with different people. They were my residency batch mates in PGH Internal Medicine, to celebrate the end of residency, in 2018 I loved those times, and I miss those people. I bought a fountain pen in the city, a piston filler that has cracks now but can still be coaxed into renewed usefulness.

This recent trip with high school friends was conceived of during a baptismal party in Marbel. Daphny, Vanessa, and Willie were seated on the same table. I broached the subject of travel. Find a good price for a round trip ticket, book early enough, and block the date in the calendar. I tend to delegate these tasks to others: I’m an ambitious thinker, with very little follow-through. Katty overheard us. We didn’t include Katty because she had children. Mothers live jn a vastly different world, have a different priorities. But Katty, who had just given birth at that time, seemed determined to come with us. We also dragged Christopher along. He wasn’t around, but we couldn’t imagine this trip without him.

We may have forgotten about the trip or the booking, until someone reminded us we had tickets. By this time our small group was swimming in deadlines and work, the stuff of mature life, ambition, and need. As the busiest among us, I said I'd go through with the trip. The tickets had been booked, after all. Sayang naman. I had blocked off my calendar. I did not schedule chemotherapy sessions or out-patient cliinics during that time. Perhaps it was my resolve that reminded everyone in the chat group—which was how we had been communicating—to take a step off our real lives and take a quiet moment to see another part of the world (literally and figuratively).

On the day of our flights, Katty and Willie were in my dining room, having breakfast at my house. We were driving to the airport together. Our flight to Manila was in the afternoon. I had to do some rounds. I saw patients in the clinic who were only too happy to shoo me away. They said, “Have fun, Doc, you deserve it." I love my patients and am grateful for their lives. 

In the evening we flew to Taipei. Christopher, who always likes doing things at the very last minute, met us at NAIA. He did not get left behind. He is notorious for missing his flights. We had two glorious days of laughter and catching up. Then Daphny and Vanessa, who had to rebook their flights because of work commitments—Daphny’s job interview, Vanessa’s new work environment—eventually met us in the bustling Taiwan capital, and it felt like it was high school again. In a way, we were the same people, but different.

September na