the village at last...
The village refers to Barrio Luba in Sta. Lucia, Ilocos Sur, where my father lived and where I spent part of my childhood. It is where I take vacation during summer, particularly when dad was still alive. That's a six-hour drive from Manila. Upon entering the village through a narrow road, one is greeted by the site of a cramped graveyard on the right, amidst the rice fields but not far from the road. My grandparents and some other relatives who have passed away were buried there (not my dad, though). Everytime I go to visit our ancestral home in that village, I always turn my eyes to that graveyard. There's always the feeling or sense of tranquility but at the same time sadness.