Before I accepted the job offer, Z and I had a conversation about how exciting it must be to travel for work. I imagined how I would go places, meet new people, and learn about their culture. It was such a pretty darn good picture in my head that made me believe for brighter days. Then again, reality was almost always no way near to what we had in mind.
Fast forward to my first week at my new job, I flew to Davao City. I had to stay at a downtown hotel due to the last minute booking. Before we settled on where I was actually staying, we attempted to search for other better hotels that night, but ended up in the first hotel we booked anyway. I stayed on the third floor of the hotel. There was no elevator. The room was small, but it had good enough space for a tiny person like me. The walls were painted beige. It had one average-sized closet without doors. The single bed had one pillow. The window beside my bed had a broken lock that made me too scared to unpack my things. I thought, it'd be easier to run with my stuff and luggage intact. I kept the TV on because there were loud banging noises in the next room. But the loudest volume could not tone down the noise outside nor the voices in my head. I was thirsty, and I had no water. I wanted to walk outside to find food, but my anxieties got the best of me. It was close to midnight. Tired from an early flight and craving for a good sleep, I lie in bed, feeling homesick. I never knew how bad it could get when you were away from home for work, and not for leisure. Without anyone to call, but only a boss—whom I've only met two days prior—staying in a different hotel in the city.
Growing up, being away from home was something I look forward to. Like any other kid, I associated leaving home with freedom. I hated being told what to do despite having no idea what to do yet. Today, old and penniless, I still had no idea how to proceed with life. The difference was that I would now appreciate a manual in life or something.
The next morning, I woke up early to find the nearest Mcdonald's because of too much crying the night before, and I just wanted iced coffee (which tasted more like water with a hint of coffee than coffee). Surprisingly, it was only a 10-minute walk from my hotel. I also stack up my room with snacks and bottled water I bought from the convenience store nearby. But before I could finish my breakfast, my colleagues had arrived to pick me up for another day of work.
It was an exhausting week, but still an exhilarating experience.
Familiar faces surprised me at the airport, and I could not be any happier.
I flew to Cebu the next month.
(c)
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