Not gonna lie, by the end of the day, my leg hurt so much it felt like my toe was about to fall off. But these small contrivances mean nothing compared to the fact that I! Finally! Met! Marikit and the Ocean of Stars’ illustrator Alexis Young, and the gorgeous Boston-based Filipina writer C.H. Barron, both of which are here for family-related holidays.

(Who am I kidding? Whenever a Filipino comes home from abroad, it is 90% about a family-related holiday)

My apologies, friends. I am an indoor cat, not an outdoor adventurer. Most of the quests that I experienced happened in my head and stayed there. This body is as dormant as a chair. I am also an old person living in the sun-beaten Philippines, and now that March has arrived, the soft, slightly-breezy shield of Amihan has slowly faded away. We are under the direct hit of the sun’s ultra-hot, ultra-dry rays. You do not want to be here during the Dry Season. Well, also the Wet Season. Which are mostly the months after the Dry Season.

But let’s brush away my whining for a second. I finally had a miracle day. When Alexis told me she was visiting her family, I knew we had to meet. She had to sign my book! It’s a bit embarrassing to show my copy—the pages had browned, I highlighted the typos (which is the first thing I did when I scanned my book), and had the pages tabbed with crookedly-placed stickers. Not a pretty sight. But I finally had one of the makers’ signature on it, which was really lovely, because Alexis’ copy had designer-illustrator-author Veronica Mang‘s on hers. I was so, so excited about her journey, and I laughed a lot, and loud, as we were seated on the corner of Megamall’s Shake Shack, after standing in front of the counter for a long while, thinking if we should get the Ube Shake.

(We did not, my friends, get the Ube Shake)

The way we met was funny: we were late. Unfortunately late. When Alexis asked me, “Is Filipino Time real here?” The only answer is, “Yes,” and secretly, “It’s worse than you thought.” I got out of the house a quarter before eight. I did not anticipate two things: the waiting time for the bus to get full, and the traffic. Oh dear heavens. The Philippine traffic. I also did not anticipate the single most crucial fact: it has been a thousand years since my last solitary commute, and a lot has changed since then, so I was walking around aimlessly, trying to trace where the right stations were. Thank goodness, kindness always caught me back.

The first mall of the day had a brownout. Trinoma was a labyrinth, but the moment the lights were out at the food court, things felt a bit weird. Like, comfortably weird. People still went on as if it was nothing, but that’s how Filipinos are. Life goes on. Life has to go on, whether it is in the light, or in the dark.

Oh, and another thing. When I got onto the platform, my newly-bought Beep card won’t work, so I was like a tiny bee buzzing across different terminals, and after ten tries of not having a green light, I had to walk back to the counter, realize the cashier did not activate my card, and finally went my way.

The second mall I went to was the one I took the most comfortable exit from Shaw Boulevard. It was quiet at Shangri La. And it should have been a quick walk to the Megamall if I didn’t take the wrong turn and walked a couple of blocks away, under the hot sun. So by the time I saw Alexis, and this, at the third mall, you can imagine how shabby and grimy I got.

(I’m sorry to represent you this way, folks)

Alexis was standing at a pop-up stall with her tita when I saw her. That’s because I was literally at the other pop-up stall next to her. Forgive me for being loud. That’s anxiety and excitement speaking. But we finally met! We walked around the floor with so many galleries and even met one artist who had a business in Canada. It was just so fun, strangers being humans, being souls and being hearts. And in those short moments, we get to take a peek at who they really are.

I loved Alexis’ stories. She showed me her pocket journal which included stamps she gathered from her recent Taiwan trip (and then there’s me silently musing about the derailed Taiwan trip the family was supposed to have this April). I love her drawings—she even gave me one! I made Alexis sign two copies of Marikit and the Ocean of Stars, and my copy of Yxavel Magno Diño‘s The Serpent Rider, whose cover Alexis also drew! So yes, I have been lugging around with a large yellow bag with three hardbounds and some knick-knacks the entire time.

The fourth mall was a mall I’ve never been to before, and was a bit far for me to walk. I met C.H. Barron at Rockwell, where I was also graced with the presence of her little girl, whose very Pinoy side was to be witty and talkative and slightly malikot, so her dad had to walk her around the area where a gentleman had sat behind the piano and played music for everyone.

That left Karra—as C.H. Barron let me call her—and me at the table under Roti Shop, talking about publishing, about the flood in my subdivision that has slowly ceased because people are finally fixing the roads, about author friends in the Philippines, and about the state of Trump’s U.S. Her daughter has come back for rounds of mango shake in her bowl, and my date with this lovely family has ended in a jiffy. But! I did what a came here for, and that was to bring a tiny box of a gift, because Karra was one of the most inspiring creatives I ever met, and I swore to myself I’ll meet her no matter what.

And I just did!

I will tell you this: I always feel small around people. Not because of people. You do you. It’s mostly a me thing. I always feel inept, that I’m lacking, and sure enough, I am. But these people make me feel welcome despite my (inner) smallness. And I am grateful that my little world is bigger and brighter because of them.

My toes are still here and I have new stories in my pocket.