No Arrival

Some may have considered it a slight drizzle. I, on the other hand, was afraid it would turn into a torrential downpour in the middle of my morning walk to school. Ergo, my get-up. Amongst this shaded brown and grey world of the Philippines, the worn down concrete, asphalt and pebbled streets, the wild greenery alongside it, the mixture of noisy street sounds and street vendors calling out for their willing buyers, was this girl.

This relatively small girl, clinging to her bright yellow and black Cal State Long Beach umbrella crossed the street to go up a somewhat steep road to school. A dash of bright yellow was nothing, but it was the semi-thick red raincoat atop faded jeans tucked into bright pink polka dotted rain-boots which drew unwanted attention.
Yes, I was that girl. It might have been acceptable, had the weather been like the year before. Typhoons for almost two weeks led to horrible landslides and flash floods. The gripping looks on the faces of those who lost their loved ones during that time will never leave me. But the intricate message of hope was spoken through the pain. With these thoughts in my head of the year before, did I trot up the residential street for my first class of the morning. A few minutes later, the slight rain became nothing at all. I was just a girl, stepping through inch puddles in her bright pink polka-dotted rain-boots, over prepared for a storm that didn’t come.