Maglibot
- to tour; travel around; make rounds
As he walks outside, he discovers that his house has changed its exterior. Instead of its usual modern design, it looks old. It's built with wood and rocks that are similar to the history books he read during classes. He isn't sure what architecture this is, but it doesn't look bad.
He doesn't tarry and immediately runs toward the city (apparently, his house is secluded and is not within the residence area). But the closer he gets to the city, the heavier he feels. There is this oppressive feeling in the air that makes people suffocate and weary. As he arrives at the city and is finally able to look around, he is surprised to see that the atmosphere is oddly wan and gloomy. A strange and uncomfortable feeling hangs in the air. The people are even with grim and exhausted expressions. Their movements are empty of vigor, and listlessness covers their shadows. It is a city that is devoid of life.
Remi traipses as he further looks around. Just what kind of city is this to have no ounce of spirit?
A forlorn warrior appears in his sight, and he quickly asks him for directions.
The despondent warrior looks at him in surprise, scrutinizing him from head to toe to ensure he isn't looking at something his mind has created to ease the suffocation he started to feel after arriving here. "Why in Bathala is a kid like you in this fucking place?" He hisses. But he shakes his head a moment later. "No matter, it's not my business. Just go straight. Turn right in the first corner. If you see a green sign with a drawing of a house in yellow ink, that's the place."
The youth says his thanks, and the warrior laughs bitterly. "It's best you leave here soon, kid." He morosely states, getting a box of matches and lights the tobacco he puts between his lips. "This place is doomed."
Remi looks at him, puzzled and slightly nervous from his words, but he nods nonetheless. "Thank you again, sir."
The warrior nods back, removing his attention from him after he sees the youth walking away. He inhales.
"Bathala has forsaken this damned place," he grimly repeats as he blows out the smoke, watching it dissipate.
Clutching the strap of his bag, he runs toward the said directions and arrives in front of a restaurant. He hesitatingly enters the restaurant and is a little bit surprised that the heavy and oppressive feeling suddenly disappears. He tries to think about the reason why, but his mind gives him nothing. He shrugs the weird feeling off and searches for an empty table.
“Oh? You’re a new face,” comments a middle-aged woman as she approaches Remi’s table with a strange expression plastered on her face. She is wearing a worn-out white short-sleeved Camisa de chino with a saya[1] that reaches down until the ground in colors green and yellow with a white patadyong[1]. “You sure are an oddity, coming to this God-forsaken place…” She adds, and her voice changes in a slightly bitter manner by the end.
Remi, hearing such an unusual welcome right off the bat and is relieved to see some kind of lively expression finally, gapes before laughing breathlessly. He waves his hand to avert the topic somehow. “It’s my hobby,” he answers nonetheless.
The woman raises a brow in slight surprise, obviously not expecting that kind of answer. “Going to places where God had forsaken?” She asks in amusement.
“Travelling,” he hurriedly informs. “Travelling.” He says for another time, accentuating his response this time. This results in the woman roaring in laughter, giving him a huge grin after her mirth has somehow abated. “You’re funny,” she adds in and motions at the counter. “You can look and order the food there; we have no menus.”
“Ah,” Remi nods as he stands, following after the woman.
“By the way,” she starts, but it is more to herself than talking to the youth following after her. Remi hums back unthinkingly as he takes a look around, his eyes glittering in fascination and curiosity like a child who finally has the opportunity to go out. “You don’t look like an Alipin with your clothes so that you could be either a Timawa or Maharlika.” She speculates as she strides into the inner side of the counter. She motions to the food available. “It’s not much, but it can certainly satiate your hunger.”
Remi ignores the woman’s conjecture but pays close attention to those strange terms and takes note of them for further inquiry. He browses through the dishes and aptly points the food that looks nice to the woman as his order and pauses for a moment, contemplating. The woman notices the youth’s dithering and watches in amusement.
“I won’t know until you spill, kid.”
The youth sheepishly smiles as he scratches his cheek. “Do you know any place here where I can get a lot of information?”
“That’s a pretty unusual request,” she replies, feeling slightly surprised and suspicious. But she immediately hides it. “Unfortunately, you can gain nothing valuable here. This place isn’t accommodating for people like you.” She muses as she examines the youth, eyeing the neatness of his appearance. "You can look around and ask for information. However, whether they're genuine or not is up to you to decide."
But then, an enigmatic expression contours her face. She pauses for a moment before reaching for the youth, lifting his chin with her fingers to let him meet her eyes. Her lips then form to speak out strange words. “You are a lost child, aren’t you?”
Remi looks at her in surprise before clutching his head as it explodes in pain as he hears the woman's voice booms within, his heart beating a bit too quickly. Every word the woman has spoken enunciated in a language he doesn't know, but in a bizarre way or another, he seems to understand them albeit brokenly. The atmosphere then shifts into something he doesn’t know, and it’s making him hard to breathe.
“Worry not my child for all I do is give directions.” She continues. All the white noise and occupants inside the restaurant disappear, and it feels like the people inside this place are only him and the woman in front of her. “W-What do you mean?” He asks mutely, not knowing how to react. “Child, this place is nothing but danger to you. I suggest you leave. What you seek is not here.”
And then in a blink, the stifling atmosphere disappears, and a sardonic smile graced her lips. She laughs bitterly. “Not that I’m the one to talk, however.”
The surprised youth then lets out a strangled gasp, his chest heaving as he breathes in and out. He leans his hand on the nearby counter to support himself; his breaths still a bit uneven. “W-Who—are you?” He coughs out.
The woman before him merely gives him a silent smile and starts to prepare the youth’s order and puts them on a woven tray. “Here," she provides the tray. "Everything is self-service here. The water and utensils are at the side. And if you finish, return the tray here and then pay.”
Remi gives the woman a strange look and remains unmoved, still adamant about knowing what she means. Unfortunately, his effort remains unfruitful, for she goes back to her seat, obviously having no more intentions to answer. The youth can only say his thanks in frustration and go back to his table.
He casually starts to eat and listens attentively to the people conversing inside the restaurant, putting that strange event into the back of his mind. He can figure out these strange events eventually, hopefully.
"Hey, have you guys heard that nearby Barrios[2] are getting attacked? Apparently, another Datu is declaring war."
"What, again? That’s nothing new. Wars to gain more land is normal. This world has a law of kill or be killed. Only those who are strong will triumph!"
"No! This is different! It seemed like the Datu apparently got help from a Babaylan!"
"You're joking!"
"No, it's true!"
"No one will believe you, idiot. Babaylans are well-respected people generally held in high esteem! Even Datus hardly gain their attention, much more obedience!"
"Talk about something else! This kind of news is all but a mere delusion!"
“Eh, how about this? It seems like another fool tried to appeal to Lakan Taupan.”
“What?! Hahaha! There are indeed too many fools who don’t fear death!”
“I heard that those people wanted permission to enter Ilaya, but they were only thrown out by the Maharlikas!”
“I can't believe that there are still a lot of people wanting to go there."
"Well, Ilaya is a Barangay[2] shrouded in mystery. Wanting to take a look is inevitable for curious folks.”
“Unfortunately, their curiosity will be their death! For them being able to leave the palace alive is already a Bathala-given grace!”
"Any news about Mayari? It's been so long."
"Why do you even need information about that Barangay? You have any plans to visit?"
"Oh, Bathala, forgive. This mere Timawa is simply curious!"
"Mayari is a place only we can dream of entering."
"Well, it is true that information about Mayari is certainly lacking to the point no one knows where it is or how to get there. But what can we possibly do? Barangay Mayari is a place for Maginoos!"
"What we, Timawas, the common people, can do is merely dream."
Remi continues to listen, but after half of an hour, the topic becomes redundant. Though, to be honest, it is surprising that even with this town being so gloomy, gossip is still difficult to keep down. He snorts silently. He once again takes note of those unusual terms in his mind and quickly finishes his food before going back to the counter to pay.
“It’s 1 peseta,” the woman from before states after retrieving the tray from the youth. Remi stops for a short while, looking at her strangely, before hurriedly nodding. No matter, he can just ask her another time what her strange words before meant. He slides his sling bag towards his abdomen before zipping it open and digs out the small pouch that has coins in it. He hesitatingly gives the woman a small silver coin.
She doesn't look at him strangely and casually opens her drawer, putting the coin there, and gives the youth his change. Remi then receives four small bronze coins and one with a hole in the center of it.
As he exits the restaurant, the breath he is suppressing for a long time finally escapes from his lips. He pats his chest in relief, feeling a bit stifled still, however. “Fortunately, I gave her a coin that didn't raise suspicion. I forgot currency works differently here.” He looks at the five coins in his hand. “Okay, so coins with holes in the middle are 5 pesetas so that one silver coin is equivalent to 10 pesetas.” He ruminates. “Lunches in the university are roughly 50 pesos, so I guess it’s similar to the conversion of Philippine Peso to US dollars then (1USD = 50PHP).” He then concludes as he puts the coins into his pouch and the pouch into his bag, continuing with his journey.
Remi doesn't know much about architecture, but the houses in this town look so terrifyingly badly maintained. He doesn't even know if those are livable. Mostly they were made in wood, but there are several houses built in stones that slightly look better, like the restaurant. Sure enough, the people here are without liveliness and live their lives dwelling on negative emotions. Most of them are disinclined in talking and ignore him, but fortunately, he finds some people kind enough to answer, in a tense manner, however.
As he finishes wandering, he finally understands what the warrior and the woman in the restaurant are talking about. This city is really nothing good. Murder is a regular occurrence, and the law is nothing but a little poster in the wall; ignored. Adding to that unpleasant fact, there are no people who govern this place, so it's a small city where laws are useless.
It is no surprise that there are no children in this place. All of the families with children unhesitatingly escaped this hopeless city.
There is no hierarchy in this small town. Still, there is one particular law he’s heard from other people that all must abide by, and that is to not cause any trouble in Donya Ylaganoa’s restaurant—the restaurant he went to before. No one knows how that unsaid law came to be, but it just happened. All abided by this unspoken rule, but of course, there were still defiant people that caused trouble. Though, they ended up waking up inside the healers’ clinic after that.
The city still has a bit of noise even though not as lively as he had expected, however, as the sun finally sleeps to let the moon have its time to give light, only a deafening silence engulfs the whole city. People will immediately close their doors to demarcate themselves from unwanted visitors. The only instances where night finally has some kind of life—or if it is really life for that matter—are where screams of help ring around. But no one dares to go out from the protection their houses provide, despite being painfully little.
Fortunately, he also learns a little bit about this world's social stratum. And he finally knows the reason why those strange words sound familiar—he already heard them before in history classes during primary school. It’s been so long, so he has forgotten about it. But now that Remi remembers a bit, and gains some information from roaming around, he now has a fundamental idea about this world.
People are categorized into four: Maginoo, Maharlika, Timawa, and Alipin.
Maginoos are people of status. They are said to be the ruling and privileged classes. A minority of this world are Maginoos, and it's purportedly known that most of them reside in Barangay Mayari. However, some of them stay outside Mayari, though they are far in between. Only Maginoos are allowed to be a Datu or Lakan. Those two words are generally the same from what Remi can remember, being a Lakan in this world has more pressing responsibilities.
Maharlikas, on the other hand, are what people generally call the warriors or army in this world. They are either of noble birth or gained grandiose accomplishments to warrant an upgrade in social rank. A person not part of the military cannot be a Maharlika. They pay their contributions by guarding the Barrio they reside in.
Timawas are known as common folk. They can have numerous occupations. Only this social rank has the most freedom as they can do anything they want, that is, of course, within the limits of law and morality. But of course, with this social rank has the most liberty in terms of responsibilities, they are the sole taxpayer.
And last, but not least, the Alipin. They are slaves that have no freedom whatsoever and only obey what their master tells them to do. Otherwise, they will receive punishment. An alipin can remove their Alipin title and improve their rank by finishing their service or paying all their debts.
All social status below Maginoo can have their ranks upgraded, but it can only happen one at a time and if their accomplishments can warrant such promotion. Surely, having their classes elevate is nothing easy, especially with people still having discrimination against others that have a stigma on their identities.
It is evident that in every world, such social injustice is still prominent.
As he can no longer obtain new information, he put his intelligence gathering to a close. After that, he can’t dare say that he can go longer and further roam around. He’s been to numerous places already, and the atmosphere in this city isn’t the best and is uncomfortable. So he makes up his mind and decides to go back home and cook some dinner.
But before that, he needs ingredients. So, yeah. He’s having some strange instance of deja vu, but he shrugs it off and starts to turn around and buy some things. Where is the market again?
[1] Saya, Patadyong is part of a woman’s traditional clothes in the Philippines. Saya is the skirt, and Patadyong is an apron-like cloth hanging onto the Saya as a cover since fabrics used in Sayas are pretty thin. The whole outfit is called Baro’t Saya, but it is also known as the Maria Clara gown (for aristocracy). For more information: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maria_Clara_gown
[2] Barangay (also called Barrio) is the smallest administrative division in the Philippines and is the native Filipino term for a village, district, or ward. In metropolitan areas, the term often refers to an inner-city neighborhood, a suburb, or a suburban neighborhood. (from Wikipedia. But in this novel, a Barangay is a continent, and Barrio is a kingdom.)
