Long Walk

Everybody has had their long walk. At least, I believe everyone has.

When I was in college, I had a chat with a division mate and we talked about a curious pastime of his. He told me that, to pass away the time, he and his friends would walk along Roxas boulevard from one end to another, conversing all the way. And when they had reached the other end, they would walk all the way back and so on and so forth till their legs got tired. Not bad. Not bad at all.

My youngest brother also had the same "long walk" experience. He was in high school then and my mom pretty much left for home with my two other sisters. That wasn't necessarily bad, except that my brother didn't have any money with him to pay for his fare. I don't exactly know what ran into his mind then but he chose to walk all the way from the Ateneo high school campus to our home near Matina Aplaya. When he got home, he was reportedly furious at my mom, as was the case ever so often. One would wonder why he didn't ask or borrow money from his classmates or friends but I know how pride works and my brother is also a proud guy like me.

As for my own experience, I've had lots of those when I was in in my early years in college. My allowance then was measly compared to my colleagues and I thought that the only way to save more money was to either fast myself to death or walk the last leg of my journey home from school. I had seen Reginald Perido, a friend and neighbor, do it and I was eager to do it too. So for the first few weeks of one special semester, I walked from the kanto of Kawayan Drive to our home on the other side of the world.

But I soon figured out it wasn't a very good idea. My leather shoes got older faster and walking only made my stomach grumble louder.

Fortunately, there were some benefits from the experience. Every time I walked home, I tried singing to myself for amusement and, for a short period in my life, I managed to become an amateur song writer, churning out songs whose tunes are still in my head.

But those afternoon walks couldn't compare to what I had one particular Saturday. It was late morning approaching noon. I was in Anda, in St. Anthony's, to purchase a breast plate for my PMT uniform. I was already walking away from the shop when I caught a glimpse at my coin purse and saw nothing. Nothing. Oh, man.

I was tempted to turn around and go back to the shop to return my purchased item and get my money back. But I didn't have the face nor the humility to do that. So I comforted myself by thinking triumphantly that I was off to another adventure: I would walk home from Anda all the way to home.

So it began. I walked the length of San Pedro Street then to Almendras gym. Then from there, I walked to LTO, walked across the Bolton bridge, walked past the Ecoland Bus Terminal, then Saint Paul II College, then Ecoland, then Times Beach, then Bonguyan, then across the wilderness to the eastern fringe of our subdivision, then to home. I was walking for so long that, by the time I reached the house, it was already drizzling outside when, at the start of my walk, it was sunny and gay.

Thinking back, it was an experience I'd rather not repeat. There was an element of helplessness there which made the memory bittersweet. Despite that, I still encourage people to have their own long walks. These walks can be therapeutic if done with the right mindset (and with money in the wallet for security and comfort) . I believe I found myself during those long walks because these gave me time to think and, despite the weariness in my legs later on, my mind always came out more refreshed and definitely more relaxed.

Not bad. Not bad at all.