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What Our Childhood Games Taught Us About Being a Woman
One summer in Naga, I played dolls one last time and broke free.
“Hurry up, we’re going to miss a spot. Are you joining or not?” my sister nagged me.
I stretched, groggy and half-awake after a day’s worth of travel. I just arrived in my hometown of Naga during the late summer of 2022. My arrival coincided with the period of the national elections, the results of which will later decide whether I’ll keep working overseas.
“Of course, I’m joining.” In between yawns, I rushed to bathe, dress, and eat. Then, my sister and I set off.
At two in the afternoon, the paved road crossing Magsaysay Avenue got jammed with pedestrians and pop-up booths handing out bottles of mineral water and steamed pork buns.
My sister and I joined the swarm that built up at the intersection of the two roads. The crowd filled every lot, all the way to the welcome rotunda near Concepcion church at the far end of the main street. The front-end of the swarm concentrated around the makeshift stage wedged between Olivan’s Home Depot and Avenue Square Plaza. Later, journalists estimated the crowd to be over 300,000 people.
That day, the heat was plenty, and the wind was stingy. Young people milled with intention and…
