LDR

These past nine days in Halifax has been unreal and overwhelming. That’s really the only two words that encompass and describe all that I’ve felt and am feeling. Unreal, because things actually happened. I hopped on a plane and flew 4000+kms to see someone I’ve only met once two months ago. After all the texts, sexts, messages, pictures and videos we’ve exchanged we were finally talking and seeing each other in person. I could touch her, feel her breath on my skin, kiss her, caress her, whisper in her ears and tell her how much I love her.

And all of that is overwhelming. I have not spent more than 10 days with her but I already love her. How do I know that for sure? How do I know what I’m feeling if I can’t even believe this is all happening? What are all these feelings that have suddenly surfaced? The last time I was in love was four years ago; how will I know what it’s like to be in love again? This whole time I was looking for answers for my own feelings. What am I feeling? What am I doing on the East Coast? What is it like to realize these feelings that we’ve confessed over text in person?

I felt numb. I didn’t know what to feel or what to do. Our time together has been so perfect it’s like a capsule of happiness. Perhaps that’s the magic of a long-distance relationship: you treasure every moment you have together because you know you’re never in the same place for long (at least for the near foreseeable future). You know you’re both returning to your own realities once the time is up; you’re back in your own world, with each other only skimming the surface of your bubble of your everyday life.

But what I realized as the plane took off from the tarmac in Halifax was that amidst the overwhelming sense of surreality, I did fall in love. The whole experience was unconventional and dumbfounding, but it was love. And that’s the only thing that matters.

Privilege Check-Mate

I’ll admit that Philippines was never on my list of countries to visit or places to travel to, but work was calling and I rarely turn down an expense-paid trip to go somewhere I’ve never been. The sights of the still-developing country was eye-opening. The streets were dirty, building covered in black exhaust dust from all sorts of vehicles, and the traffic was unmanageable. A little circle around the block could take up to 10 minutes to complete, and to go anywhere outside of a 20-min walking distance it’s safest to give yourself an hour for transport.

Parts of the major city were desolate and filled with dwellers on the side of the road in their make-shift shacks. Children run around on the sidewalk without shoes on, a girl showers naked atop a table from a bucket her mom is holding over her head; another kid sits on the ground playing with his friends completely undressed. In another corner of the city, a girl not older than 4 or 5 extends her arm and stretches her fingers out to ask for money while her mom begs in front of a convenience store that is steps away from a dance studio. Other kids who are older carry trays of snacks and work the bars at night trying to make sales. It was heart-breaking. It was hard seeing how poverty was so close and the divide so wide. I had not realized before this visit that this was the state of the country.

At many of the Q&A’s after our shows we could see the eagerness in the students’ eyes. Their aptitude and work ethic is truly beyond what I was used to seeing in North America. It seems like they work extra hard and treasure whatever opportunity they get because they know that to be able to dance and study it is precious. All of our studio showings have been bursting at the seams because people want to learn. They have the interest but not the means (when you compare on an international level), so when opportunity presents itself they grab and hold on to it.

Philippines is a country and a visit I won’t soon forget. Those images of struggle and despair have forever imprinted in my mind. I will carry them with me wherever I go and use them as reminders how good I have it. And that, in itself, is yet another privilege.