Thursday, August 28, 2008

1

Tatiana Acevedo knelt at the pew. Around her a couple of tourists were taking pictures while a tour guide was giving them a brief history of the church she was in. This was after all, San Agustin Church.

Built in the 1600s, the church is a citadel located in the heart of old Manila, the church boasts of solid adobe rocks quarried from the hills of Makati. These rocks proved to be a fortress as the structure protected the residents of Intramuros during the siege of Manila.

The church withstood the bombardment, and was for a time the only intact structure within the walled city.

The interior of the church was lavishly baroque. Pillars made of marble adorn the retablo. The side chapels housed some of the more prominent family members of old Manila and some people of import.

Tatiana paid no attention to them. She had been in this church countless of times. Like the residents of the city during the tumultuous times, the structure was her sanctuary. It was here that she felt the most calm and it was in this calmness that she was able to breathe her feelings, her frustrations, joys and pains. Today was no different.

She was deep in thought about the events that had been going on in her life. 

Why is this happening to me, she thought. She looked at the figure up ahead.

"I do not how to go about this..." she whispered. She let out a deep breath then stood up.

“Bahala na!” She said as she stood up. The people around her were startled by her declaration. Yet she hardly cared. She picked up her bag and exited the church, her heels clacking against the marble floor.

No comments: