Yogyakarta was not easy.
I've got to bring something there, which took almost two months to prepare, including trips to Davao and Guiuan and Bantayan, and a slew of email exchanges.
That in itself deserved a P600 dinner at Victorino's and a trail ride on a typhoon-ed Friday.
A day before, I dropped by a gathering of once and current as they agreed on a 22nd meet-up instead of the 29th so I can come, went beyond my supposedly iron-clad rule of having only a couple of beers at most, and forgot that what I actually have in Panay is an old pair of Caterpillars with broken soles.
That's how I got to the Changi Airport, on old leather work shoes, where I cashed my complimentary $20 voucher for a box of tea and chocolate, and lunched on a chicken-and-mushroom bowl of noodles washed by a bottle of Tiger Beer despite my craving for roasted Chinese duck.
That's how I got to Yogyakarta, on old leather shoes and a stale beer breath, to meet seasoned international campaigners, and perhaps induct myself to becoming one of them.
I'm back in Indonesia after 12 years and that deserves a glass of San Miguel Beer in a Heineken mug after the bar run out of Bintang, and made Derk and Dini very happy.
I've got to bring something there, which took almost two months to prepare, including trips to Davao and Guiuan and Bantayan, and a slew of email exchanges.
That in itself deserved a P600 dinner at Victorino's and a trail ride on a typhoon-ed Friday.
A day before, I dropped by a gathering of once and current as they agreed on a 22nd meet-up instead of the 29th so I can come, went beyond my supposedly iron-clad rule of having only a couple of beers at most, and forgot that what I actually have in Panay is an old pair of Caterpillars with broken soles.
That's how I got to the Changi Airport, on old leather work shoes, where I cashed my complimentary $20 voucher for a box of tea and chocolate, and lunched on a chicken-and-mushroom bowl of noodles washed by a bottle of Tiger Beer despite my craving for roasted Chinese duck.
That's how I got to Yogyakarta, on old leather shoes and a stale beer breath, to meet seasoned international campaigners, and perhaps induct myself to becoming one of them.
I'm back in Indonesia after 12 years and that deserves a glass of San Miguel Beer in a Heineken mug after the bar run out of Bintang, and made Derk and Dini very happy.
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