a matag lugar sa kada iskinita nga atong malabayan adunay nagkalain laing mga sugilanon nga atong nasinati. Dili kini ang mga istorya nga naghimo sa mga ulohan o nagpuno sa mga libro sa kasaysayan, apan ang hilum, kanunay nga wala matagad nga mga asoy sa adlawadlaw nga kinabuhi. Kini ang mga istorya sa kadalanan ang mga istorya sa kadaugan ug trahedya, sa kalipay ug kasubo, nga nagpadayag sa kasamok ug kasamok sa kinabuhi sa kasyudaran.
Ang "Iskinita" usa ka koleksyon sa mga sugilanon bahin sa kahimtang sa kadaugan, mga kabudlayan, ug mga kahimtang sa matag adlaw nga naghulma sa kinabuhi sa matag usa ka nato. Busa, sa sunod higayon nga maglakaw ka sa matag iskinita, gahini ug panahon sa pagtan aw sa imong palibot dili ka kahibalo kung unsa nga mga istorya ang mahimo nimong mahibal an.
Josh F. Almonte Editor in Chief
concha
National Museum | 10.2918° N, 123.9044° E
Story and Art by Josh F. Almonte
t was past midnight when I saw a little girl, three feet tall, wearing a collarless shirt roaming around the museum. Inside the museum, was pitch-blacka few areas were lit only by the moonlight passing through the windows. I followed her from the first gallery but I lost sight of her when I arrived at the archaeology section. All I heard was the rustling of leaves, waves splashing at the port, and the sharp giggling sound of the girl, as if she were playing with someone. Her name was Concha, nobody knew why the employees called her that, but one rumor said that a utility workers once saw the name Concha poorly written as if by a 3 year-old child in one of the cubicles of the women's rest room.
I had already accustomed to Concha s regular appearances during my night shift at the museum. I even responded to one of her calls as if I were interested in playing with her. She likes to count numbers in Spanish which luckily, I can understand due to its similarities with Cebuano language owing to the Spanish conquest for 333 years. I followed her squeaky footsteps, which led me from one room to another. Each place grew colder and my heartbeat accelerated. Her faint laughter was drowned out by my heartbeat echoing in every corner of the room. Suddenly, a fog rolled in, obscuring my path. This game of hide and seek led me back to the main lobby, where the only option was to go upstairs. The eyes of the busts of the prominent figures greeted me as if I had done something wrong. Their gaze followed me wherever I went, causing a cold sweat to break out.
As I approached the gallery of Martino Tinong, a famous Cebuano artist who was dubbed the Dean of Cebuano Painters I saw a majestic piece of his work titled Rizal the Reformist. it depicted the national hero, Jose Rizal, sitting in a chair while writing. A spinetingling feeling overcame me as I marveled at the portraiture.
Mi hermano murio por nada a sweet voice whispered.
My heart skipped a beat. A second felt like an hour after hearing the voice from my right ear. My hair pointed in the direction of the sound, and I glanced over. It was Concha, holding a candle while looking at the portrait. Her pale face smiled at me with pure innocence, and I smiled back with horror.
Then I realized that Concha was Concepcion Mercado, Jose Rizal s young sister who died at the age of 3.
Liberty Manifested
National Museum | 10.2918° N, 123.9044° E
Story by Manuel Gicos
Photo by Jacob Auman
Whistling winds wave weary beyond the horizon neither man nor animal may comprehend. In the past, battles may form redemption but through freedom, you’ll find an end.
Miguel, Antonio, and Ramon are names of glory through this place, you may be able to see. But a Plaza built from battle is something unexpected only love and prosperity is what makes it Liberty manifested.
Hearts and minds are able to connect in this place with families and friends. You may find birds chirping and plants thriving but long ago, it was very different.
A place for festivities, culture, and tradition I could say this is Cebu’s pride for being a magnificent creation. Yet, there are so many secrets, it hides.
It stood against many battles for great men once stood upon it. The plaza symbolizes strength and hope, to be kind, faithful, and fit.
I could say many things about this mystery and many stories are found in history. This place resonates not only with goodwill but also of freedom and liberty.
Nostalgic Summit
Tops of Cebu | 10°22'14"N 123°52'15"E
A distant memory of a place so cold
A memory of which, I dearly hold
Specks of stars adorn clear skies
They sing farewell and say goodbye
The city below, so close, yet far
Like a door to heaven left ajar
Lights glittered like the stars above Of the home I’ve so dearly loved
Where breeze I’d feel from deep within
Had cold and biting, yet gentle wind
The summit where I fail to narrate in pen Oh, how I long to be there once again
Poem by Angelu Gabrieli C. Alfafara
Art byAllyza Lee
Market’s salty scent, A gift from the sea to shore, Scales hanged everywhere.
Aisles stretch in rows, Carts full of necessities, Money sunk below.
Photo and Haiku by Josh F. Almonte
Haiku by Josh F. Almonte
Aswang in apas
Brgy. Apas | 10.3377° N, 123.9079° E
Story and Art by Angelo Giles
4:30 am, it was cold, the sun hadn't fully risen yet. I was doing my morning jog when suddenly a cold breeze blew towards me. But it was strange, it felt like the gust of wind was coming from above me, as if something was landing nearby. It couldn't be a helicopter from the nearby military camp, since there wasn't any identifiable noise.
But then, I heared wings flapping and saw a silhouette of what seemed to be an Aswang! A blood curdling scream from a young girl perceived the air, makes my heartbeat even louder as I hid in an alley. I tried to ignore the sound, stretching and exercising until it stopped, the noise seems to hit a nearby rood as if it entered. Scared and nervous, I walked home trying to appear calm as possible despite seeing drops and thin trails of blood on the street. A few hours later, after I arrived home, my grandmother asked me to accompany her to the mahjong house where her friend lived on the next street.
I was still fatigued from what I had encountered earlier at dawn. Hearing the rumors from the marites on the streets about a girl being abducted at night by a family of Aswangs did not help with my headache. Then we entered the house to visit my grandmother’s friend, it was unusual to see no altar in their home knowing all residents in the town are diehard Catholics.
Then I saw a girl. she had bruises and wounds, and her clothes were unusually stretched, had tears, and stains with blood from an “accident” explained by her family members. My grandma tried to offer them adobo for lunch since their mother couldn’t cook for them, but they refused with disgusted and offended face. My grandmother also tried to pray for a speedy recovery, which agitated them and resulted in us getting kicked out of their house. As we back home, I realized that the mahjong house was harboring a family of Aswangs…
Pari-an
Brgy. Parian | 14.2146° N, 121.1498° E
Story and Art by Angelo Giles
We were asked to visit museums and historical areas for a project, the first thing that came to mind on where me and my partner were going was in Parian. It's a beautiful area full of historical feels and you can really appreciate the old cebuano culture in the area.
I was actually hesitant at first knowing I can see ghosts and spirits, but going to museums couldn't hurt right, especially if it has academic validation. And so we explored Parian, with a positive attitude and curiosity for the historical artifacts found in the area and its museums. We took some snaps while we were in the museums, taking pictures of almost anything for documentation.
As we were hopping from museum to museum, my partner and I split up since it was near sundown and decided to explore separately to save time. As I was entering the museums, I stumbled upon a priest, I greeted the priest and he greeted me as well. He was very good at talking in deep Cebuano words, and he was wearing a cassock.
I was so amazed to see a priest in such traditional fashion. Then it would progress into short chit chat between me and the priest, him ending the conversation with “pag amping ikaw kanunay sa pag pauli bata, delikado gayud ang mga kalsada gawas niining museo, pagmatin-ug sa pagbantay sa mga hapones igpauli”.
I was about to bless the priest’s hand on my way out, but my partner was calling me from the other hall of the museum. On our way out, I asked the museum staff if the priest in the museum was one of the priests who serves in the nearby Cathedral, “Pari na naka suot pangmisa?”, the staff said.
I didn't want to cause any confusion so my partner and I just left and rode a jeep going home. And as I was checking the pictures I took alone, a headless priest wearing the same cassock the priest I was talking to was in some of the photos
Ilooked at myself at the mirror one more time and giggled when I recalled how I practiced saying "Yes" in front of this mirror.
I was so occupied with thoughts of him proposing until I saw him kneeling in front of me, crying.
No, he's not proposing.
"Nala, listen...I love you..b-but" "…but you love the other one more?" I finished the sentence for him because by the looks of it, he has no plan of finishing it.
He then started to look at me slowly and the moment our eyes met, I knew. I know that I’ll be doing the right thing. I looked at him, wanting to realize the details of his face. I guess God took an ample amount of time sculpting this guy. I tried to laugh with the hopes of him laughing with me but he didn’t.
Does it hurt? Yes, it does. So much. So much that I can’t translate the pain into words. I thought I have already programmed myself to withstand all the pain I’m possibly facing but I guess we’re never really ready until we’re actually faced with the situation.
This man has loved me enough. And if you are going to ask me if I had regrets? No, I had none. I have been the happiest for the past 6 years, that's something right? That's something I would never experience if I was not with him.
For 6 years, we encountered a lot. It wasn’t the smoothest ride but it's definitely a ride I’m willing to take again if it’s with him and I would not have it any other way. I'm glad I met him. I am happy I was able to borrow His time. I’m confident and I know I'll do the right thing. So, I composed myself and held his hand.
"Come" I dragged him when he suddenly started throwing questions one after another.
"Nala, are you not mad? Why? You can’t just let this pass. Be mad at me! Stop being so kind."
I stared at him again. All I can see in his eyes is guilt, fear, and pain. He looks so vulnerable. His hands are cold and even trembling.
Xaviour has always been so brave but right now, he looks nothing near the adjective brave. This man is so precious to me, I can't lose him but I can't have him either. How can we ever have someone whom we never own in the first place?
“Xaviour, I can never be mad at someone who only wishes to accept what he is called to do, let alone be mad at you.”
When we reached the place, he couldn’t move his body and I saw how his eyes glistened with tears because I brought him to his other One. I took one step closer to the doorstep and I can feel so much peace already. This might be the reason why Xaviour wanted to spend the rest of his life here.
I looked at what I thought is the representation of true love. His arms were widespread, scarred, and his body clothed with blood, redeeming the world.
Jesus Christ, Our Savior. Myrival.
“For 6 years, I became too selfish to have kept you to myself that I failed to realize how great myrival is, Xavv.”
I tried to laugh off the pang in my chest but I didn’t expect the pool of tears to pour when he hugged me so tight and whispered something.
"Always remember that I love you, Nala. You are never His rival. What we had was not selfishness, it was love. You gained a spot in my heart, and that spot is yours forever.”
I felt like Xaviour is really my savior. And he is right, Jesus was never my rival. He has been the center of our relationship for 6 years and that is one of the greatest factors why our relationship lasted long.
Sacrificing for someone you love so dearly is never easy. But when I look at the cross, I felt relieved. He was able to make such a great sacrifice that it cost Him His life all for our salvation, including those that treated Him poorly, what excuse do I have?
I smiled and held his hand as I thought of something. If I can’t walk down the altar while he’s waiting for me then I might as well walk him down the altar where He is waiting.
“The Mockingjay of the Capitol”
Cebu Provincial Capitol | 10.3168° N, 123.8906° E
Story by Ryan Kenneth Samsona Art by Amiel Aguilar
"Necklace of hope" Originally from "necklace of rope," the lyrics were changed from the word ‘ rope’ to ‘hope’ and served as a rallying cry during the citizens' rebellion in Panem. As someone with immense admiration for The Hunger Games movie series, these lines from the song “The Hanging Tree” were already buried deep in my heart.
The movie series portrayed an incredibly intense story of a fictional nation in North America named "Panem" which was oppressed by the power of the Capitol, who kept its stranglehold over the twelve districts by organizing an annual life-ordeath competition called "The Hunger Games". The games served as a punishment for the districts, following their failed rebellion, which ended 75 years ago.
In the entirety of 75 years, all the citizens of Panem were shrouded in fear and darkness, but it all ended when a bright light emerged, bringing them strength, courage, and hope. Her name was Katniss Everdeen, the victor of the 74th Hunger Games from District 12, who later became a symbol of hope, resilience, and rebellion, fighting for the freedom of all Panem's citizens the "Mockingjay.”
Imagining myself as a character in The Hunger Games, I would rather run awayinto the wilderness than endure the miserable life in the Capitol. However, in reality, it's amusing to think that I have been renting a place for more than a year near a Capitol not the Capitol of Panem, but in the Cebu Provincial Capitol. I admit that my deep fascination for the movie series has driven me to persist in writing this story. But surely, living near the Capitol has played a main role in this, particularly when I met an incredible woman who perfectly embodies the character of Katniss Everdeen.
Since I moved to the Capitol Site in Cebu, I've been passing bythe Capitol building every day, walking and waiting for a jeepney to take me to school. Throughout each day, I consistently encounter a woman serving her community with perseverance. From the rising to the setting of the sun, she stands bythe roadside, offering her services to those in need of National Bureau of Investigation (NBI) clearance. I witness her during my morning walk to school, and even as I make my way home in the afternoon after school, I still catch her standing by the bustling streets.
I was fortunate to have had a chance to talk with this woman and there, I found out that her name was Maria Ariadne Osorio, a 53-year-old mother with a 16-year-old son. For the past 16 years, she has dedicated herself to working tirelessly on the streets for the NBI, a commitment that started around the time of her son's
birth. Curious about her choice to stay in her current job, I asked her, and she shared that her age makes it challenging to find acceptance in alternative employment. Despite the difficulties, she remains grateful, particularly to the NBI, as it has enabled her to support and send her son to school.
Working since 2007, Maria has dedicated herself to providing for her son's needs and education. She shared, "I wake up around 7 AM, prepare my son for school, and leave only when he's on his way because I won't leave the house until he can walk on his own."
Describing her daily routine, Maria mentioned, "It's just okay. The salary is just enough for buying rice, paying bills, and supporting my son's education." Despite facing challenges and tough competition from her co-workers on the streets, she emphasized the need to fight and persevere, saying, "If you don't fight, you'll go home empty-handed, without even a peso."
Seeing this woman standing against the blazing heat of the sun and enduring the shivering cold of the rains every day makes me wonder how hard it would be for her to survive daily. Amazingly, she seems like she’s always doing well and feeling enthusiastic. Witnessing her daily routine serves as a wellspring of inspiration, not only for me but undoubtedly for everyone who notices her. It's a powerful reminder to persevere in life, regardless of its difficulties.
She may not be the Katniss Everdeen I admire, but I call her the “Mockingjay of the Capitol” a symbol of hope, courage, and resilience. Unlike Katniss, who was armed with a bow and arrow, Maria wields an umbrella as her weapon, facing her daily life of survival as her version of The Hunger Games.
At the end of our talk, Maria conveyed her satisfaction with her job, emphasizing that it's better than begging. She affirmed, "As long as I can, I'll keep working because I have a son to support."
Maria's story might be seemingly ordinary to some. Still, it serves as a beautiful reminder that each of us faces our version of “The Hunger Games” a daily battle for our dreams, ambitions, and, most importantly, for our loved ones. Regardless of your current struggle, I hope Maria’s story serves as a “necklace of hope,” providing the strength and courage you need to persevere and succeed. In challenging moments, may we let our inner light shine brightly for others, becoming Mockingjays, that inspire those around us. Remember that in every life's Hunger Games, you are and will always be a Victor!
Faith and devotion
Basilica minore del Sto. Niño de Cebu | 10.2941° N, 123.9021° E
Haiku and Photo by Josh F. Almonte
Sa imong gugma, Nakadawat kog grasya, Batang balaan.
Sa Iskina mango
Mango Ave. | 10.3129° N, 123.8944° E
Balak ni Josh F. Almonte
Dibuho ni Allyza Lee
Usa ka gabii ilalom sa dan’ag sa bulan
Mihayag ang mata nga pilit ug tutok sa akoa, Libo ka tawo nga nag sayasaya sa iskina Mango Imohang pahiyom ang mihagit kanako.
Kalit nga miduol kitang duha
Nangayo ka sa akong pangalan, Usa ka baso sa imong gihatag nga Ginebra
Kalit nga miluag akong bra.
Imong kamot, kita miabot sa laing dapit Lawak nga walay suga ug puro kangit-ngit, Akong mga kamot imong gipiit Halok nimo abot nako ang langit.
Mga tudlong midagayday sa akong kinatikbuk-an
Kinailawman hangtud sa kabungturan,
Daw rag si Magellan nga milibot sa kalibutan Tanan gi adto walay gibinlan.
Tubod sa langob milikit kanako
Gilala sa imong dila, Ginhawa nga gipasa-pasa Gikapoy sa sige’g alsa
Banakon nga dako mipahit kanako
Samad gadugo, Mananap nga gamay sulod sa akoa Duga nga nagtulo wala nako sayanga
O bugnaw nga kagabhion
Nga miinit sa akong kayabag
Wala na namo nasinati pagusab.
the Cycle of Life’s Seasons
Fuente Osmeña Circle | 10°18'35"N 123°53'35"E
Story by Ryan Kenneth Samsona
Art by Amiel Aguilar
As I walked through Fuente Osmeña Circle, carrying the weight of a heavy heart, I found comfort in its familiar surroundings and stories. The place, illuminated by city lights, seemed like a haven for solace and reflection.
Among the chatter and laughter around me, I noticed a diverse array of people enjoying the circle in different ways. Friends laughed together, families strengthened their bonds, and couples shared romantic moments. Yet, I sat alone, realizing that everyone in that space had their own unique emotions.
Thinking back to my previous visits, I contrasted the joy I once felt with the current heaviness in my heart under the same night sky. It struck me – Fuente Osmeña Circle, much like life, had its own cycle of seasons. The circle witnessed my joy and now cradled my solitude.
In that moment of reflection, I grasped the fleeting nature of emotions. Whether it was sorrow or joy, my feelings were just passing phases in life's grand journey. Fuente, with its cyclical charm, mirrored life's dance through various emotional seasons: happiness, sadness, victory, and even emptiness.
Accepting this truth, I embraced the wisdom whispered by Fuente –life's seasons are as certain as the changing faces of the circle. Similar to a resilient tree enduring winter's chill, basking in summer's warmth, welcoming spring's renewal, and witnessing fall's gentle surrender, I saw the beauty in adaptation.
In this moment of self-discovery, I learned to navigate life's circle with newfound acceptance. Instead of resisting my emotions, I welcomed them as essential chapters in my personal growth. Fuente Osmeña Circle transformed into more than a place; it became a mirror reflecting the beauty of life's constant evolution, inviting me to dance through the seasons of my own existence.
May Pag-asa
Cebu Business Park | 10.3175° N, 123.9057° E
Reverse Poetry ni Dan Glyde Chavez Larawan ni Jacob Auman
Sa gitna ng Ayala
Ilaw at ingay ang bumabalot
“Tama bang narito ako?” tanong ng puso kong naguguluhan
Sa bawat gusali
Aking nakikita ang mga larawan ng pangarap at kompetisyon
Puno ng pag-aalinlangan
Ang mga hakbang sa kalye
May sariling laban
Ang bawat taong nadadaanan
Madaling mawala
Sa mundo ng mga oportunidad
“Kaya ko bang sumabay?” tanong ng isipang nagdududa
Sa bawat sulok ng Business Park
May mga kwento ng tagumpay na hindi agad nahahayag
May bagong natututunan
Sa bawat paglingon
Ang bulong ng hangin sa paligid
“May pag-asa”
Tahanan mo
Lapu-Lapu City | 10°18′44.81 N, 123°56′54.77 E
Poem by JM Abrenica
Art byAllyza Lee
Sa linggo ng umaga, simbahan ang takbuhan, Bumangon nang maaga, pusong may pinananabikan, Mga mata'y inaantok, ngunit sa pangako ay nananabik, Hindi ko alam bakit, ngunit ito'y aking ginagawang lubos at walang pilit.
Sa Birhen Sa Regla, pusong humihiling, Na sana'y pakinggan, dasal na umaawit sa matang nagniningning,
Sa loob ng simbahan, hindi ko inakala, Doon ko nakita, ang pusong matagal ng lumisan, mistulang hindi na nga.
Pag-ibig na di hinanap, sa harapan ko'y lumitaw, Sa altar ng Birhen, parang hangin na dumalaw, Sa lihim na bulungan, nagsimula ang istorya, Ang katotohanan, hindi ko kinaya.
Ngunit nang ikaw ay lapitan, biglang naglaho, Ang aking mundo'y nag-iba, parang ilusyon na nabuo, Isang anghel sa lupa, may ngiti na misteryo, Hinawi ang lihim, ang babaeng nakita ay wala na rito.
Nang may bumulong sa'kin, tinutok ang mata, Sinabi ang lihim, ang katotohanang hindi ko pa nadarama, "Ang pag-ibig mo'y imahinasyon, bunga ng lungkot at pangungulila, Ang pagkikita ninyo ay isa lamang alaala ng iyong pusong nagluluksa".
Sa marahang pagsalaysay, ang lahat ay nagliwanag, Ang babae kanina, sa tadhana'y naglaho na parang ulap,
Ang pag-ibig na akala ko ay magiging bagong simula, Nagtatapos sa kasaysayan ng pag-ibig na matagal nang nangungulila.
Hindi ko mawari ngunit may pumatak na luha galing sa aking mga mata,
Kailan ba tayo magkikita? Hihintayin pa rin kita, Kahit ang katotohanan ay matagal ka nang wala sa mundo,
Subalit ako ay nangako na ikaw lamang hanggang dulo.
Ngunit bakit sa marahang paglisan mo noon ay mayroon pa ring pagtangis, Minahal kitang lubos, hindi pa rin ba labis? Paulit-ulit bumabalik sa nakaraan na kung saan tayo'y masayang nagmamahalan, Kasabay ng pagpipirme ko sa ating tagpuan.
Para na akong sira na palaging nagtatanong sa sarili, Tama pa rin bang manatili o nararapat na ba kitang bitawan at h'wag magpakumbili?
Sa pusong naguguluhan, 'di alam ang landas na patutungohan, Hinihintay ang sagot sa pag-ibig na kay tagal ko nang inaasam.
Pero sa bawat sandali, napagtanto kong ikaw pa rin ang pinili,
Kahit anong gawin at sabihin mo, ikaw pa rin ang tinitibok nitong aking puso, Subalit sa kabila ng ating pag-ibig, ang tadhana ang pinuno,
Mahal kitang lubos, sana ay maabot ng langit na s'yang tahanan mo.
Poem by Neil Povadora
Art by Allyza Lee
In the midst of rush hour's race
I found solace, a tranquil embrace
It was you
Despite urban roars, you soared
Through traffic, the road boar
It was you
In the periphery's first glance
Lost in thoughts, a sweet trance
It was you
Overthrowing crowded scenes
Wild beauty, serene
It was you
A maze of streets we tread
Navigating love, paths widespread
It was you
Red lights paused the haste
Peaceful beams traced your silhouette
It was you
Consolacion's traffic, a constant cascade
Ready to embark on the same escapade
Hoping to cross paths once more, it was you
Do not cross
Carcar City | 10.1151° N, 123.6400° E
Story by Venesa Campilanan
Art by Allyza Lee
Alone and lost in my thoughts, I looked up and let my eyes wandered at the vibrant colors that painted the night sky but my thoughts were disturbed when I heard my mom shouting in despair.
I went down and saw how much of a mess the celebration turned out to be. My heart beating thrice the normal, I tried following my mother as she ran fast towards a very familiar direction.
There I saw a horrifying scenario. Yellow barricade tapes all around the area forcing a distance between the curious bystanders and the grim scene beyond, my ears were pierced by the unending wail of police car sirens, casting flashes of red and blue against the shadows, each wail seemed to carry the weight of urgency, and then, my eyes went on the rope, taut and unforgiving.
And as if it's the missing piece to the puzzle in my mind, I immediately thought of my mom who never wanted to see such things but I was taken aback by how much grief I saw in her eyes as she cried her heart out.
Why is my mother weeping so deeply over someone wrapped in what seems like a black body bag? My heart went out to her; that person must have held significant importance in her life.
A somber silence fell over the crowd as the reality of the tragedy sank in, each bystander grappling with their own questions and fears.
Who was she? What drove her to such despair? Why did no one see the signs? .
Upon seeing the face of the girl wrapped in black body bag, I smiled bitterly.
I'm sorry, Mama. I lost the only battle you taught me to fight for.
Ascendant Hope
| 10°16'22"N 123°59'33"E
Rock's daunting embrace, Tattered dreams strive for the sky, Hope ascends with grace.
As the sun sets now, Fisherman readies his net, Sails dance with twilight.
Crab Island Lapu-Lapu City
Photo by Ken Pyru Besana
Haiku by Ryan Kenneth Samsona
Bountiful sunset
San Remigio, Cebu | 10.9601° N, 123.9416° E Haiku and Photo by Josh F. Almonte
Heart in Kawasan
A whispering tears of falls, Is what known in Kawasan falls
Kind waves of turquoise water
One of a kind adventure
In the middle of jungle, Cascade of liquid silk tumble
Each fall is a storyteller, Narrates story like Keller
Gravity and liquid unite, Like past lovers reunite It carves tales into stone
As if it s etch by Epstein
Each drop, a fleeting dancer
Witness the dance of water
For feral journey s assure Kawasan falls, nature s treasure
Kawasan Falls, Badian Cebu | 9.8035° N, 123.3743° E
Story by Ashley Mae Patalinghug Art by Josh F. Almonte
Cebu Checklist
Nalibot na ba nimo ang Cebu?
Alcantara Alcoy
Alegria Aloguinsan Argao
Asturias Badian Balamban Bantayan Barile
Bogo
Boljoon
Borbon
Carcar
Carmen
Catmon
Cebu City
Compostela
Consolacion
Cordova
Daang-Bantayan Dalaguete Danao City
Dumanjug
Ginatilan Lapu-Lapu City
Liloan
Madridejos
Malabuyoc
Mandaue City
Medellin
Minglanilla
Moalboal Naga
Oslob Pilar
Pinamungahan
Poro
Ronda
Sambaon
San Fernando
San Francisco
San Remegio
Santa Fe
Santander
Sibonga
Sogod
Tabogon
Tabuelan
Talisay
Toledo City
Tuburan
Tudela
ABOUT THE COVER
The cover of the issue features the iconic Philippine jeepney, the primary mode of transporation in the country that symbolizes its vibrant and dynamic street culture.
Inspite the dangers of its extinction due to the on going jeepney modernization, jeepney is already part of our culture.
These colorful and unique vehicle are more than just a means of transportation; they represent the spirit of the Filipino people-resilient, resourceful, and always full of life.
In line with our theme, "Street Stories," the jeepney serves as a perfect metaphor for the diverse narratives that unfold in the bustling streets. Each jeepney is a mobile replica of Filipino society, carrying passengers from all walks of life and weaving together their stories as it traverses the city's chaotic yet enchanting thoroughfares.
Through this cover, we invite you to delve into the myriad experiences and tales that define street life of Cebu, capturing the essence of urban living in all its complexity and color.
