DUMAGUETE CITY — Moving to a place with absolutely unfamiliar faces, and with a dialect different from what I speak in Bacolod was definitely challenging. I was frightened, but I was also hopeful.
My first year here in Dumaguete consisted of me having to rely on two of my classmates to translated everything for me. To speak English in this town just didn’t get me through. My classmates would “nosebleed” at my phrases, and the cashiers, pedicab drivers, guards would miscommunicate with me.
It’s funny how I still remember all my encounters with the townspeople, and me shyly replying, “Um, dili ko kasabot” – the only Bisayan line I first learned.
I had to deal with classmates not wanting to talk to me, or even sit beside me, simply because I couldn’t speak their language. I missed one class practice back in first year because we had agreed, “Karon na ta practice” and I assumed it meant, “Let’s just practice later.”
I also had to commute around town on my own, which I honestly had little experience in. I had a pedicab experience where the driver brought me to the wrong place. Innocently, I thought he had just taken a different route. It drove me crazy.
I had to force myself to speak the language if I wanted to share some memories with my classmates, and to actually feel like I belong in my temporary home.
Compared to my hometown, Dumaguete has less restaurants, and only one theatre – which could make it seem like there’s not much else anyone could do here.
Well, perhaps it’s true. I’d eat the same food every week – herb-crusted fish fillet at Sans Rival, spaghetti marinara at Pasta King, turkey thanksgiving burger at KRI, BBQ skewers at Mooon Cafe, jeyuk-bokkeum at the Korean restaurant Soban, B&B honeycured bacon silog at Gabby’s, and the usual chicken fillet at McDonalds. The guards at Robinsons probably see me there every week, too, and even the waiters would recognize me around downtown.
Basically, that’s been my whole routine here in Dumaguete: go to school, eat out, go to the mall, do homework, and sleep.
Well, I did have a year where I would go out every weekend, which horrendously affected my grades; I’m just glad I realized that I’d have a much better time in this town if I prioritize school, and surround myself with good influences.
It’s been four years now, and although I miss home-cooked meals, and my sheltered life back home in Bacolod, I’m also truly proud of myself for stepping out of my comfort zone.
I never thought I’d ever see myself out of my hometown, as I am coming from a protective and borderline-strict family.
Despite having to eat in the same restaurants for the last four years, and having a life centered on school, my decision to study away from home has definitely changed me. I’m more independent now, and I’ve grown up to be more confident and responsible, in contrast with the 19 years I spent in a school with the same faces, and a home with the same places.
While it’s bittersweet to leave this town where I have grown comfortable in, I’m excited to go up the stage of the Silliman gym one last time, and claim my hard-earned diploma. I’m even more excited to look forward, and to explore where I can happily pursue my new skills, dreams, and passions.
