Samurai House
Sunday, October 23rd, 2011
Erected on a foothill, we stayed in a century old Samurai House. It has two-foot thick grass roof and sliding wooden windows and walls pocked with small square openings covered in white paper. It has low beds and low tables, and on one corner, a sword.
At night we shared stories back home. As an archipelago, the sea naturally separates the Filipino islanders, I told Sudarshan, one of the more colorful characters in this motley group. He is from Nepal and speaks a heavily accented English. In time, things develop apart and distinct from one another like the languages we speak. As I came to know, a parallel situation is true of Nepal, which straddles the Himalayas. Though only a strip of land on a map, the tall mountains isolate groups of people from one another making it possible for multi-cultures to flourish including diverse spoken languages.
Ana joined us after hearing our mountain talk. She was particularly fond of pictures with mountain backgrounds, and when she clicked the Rice Terraces folder in my computer, she was totally blown away! Small wonder she is from Tallinn, the capital city of the Baltic state of Estonia. She said that except for humps and mounds here and there, her country is totally flat. In fact the whole area (eastern shores of the Baltic sea) which includes the republics of Latvia and Lithunia, and the Russian enclave Kaliningrad are flat places. It is topographically the European equivalent of African prairies. I promised her that when she come to visit Philippines I’ll show her all our tall mountains, carved mountains, and mountains with hanging coffins! She was thrilled, and then gasped hearing the last one.
It was already late and a chilling wind blew from the mountains. Somebody must have come in and didn’t close the door. I closed it while Ana put out the paper lanterns. Then I heard a loud noise. Somebody was snoring already - Sudarshan!
