After what seems to be the longest one month of my life, I can't help but think about how much I miss the Philippines. The heat may be intolerable at times but at least we've got airconditioner to keep us cool. When you're walking outside here in Stockholm, the weather literally bites. It's not even winter yet.
My country sure has its quirks but nothing beats home-cooked meals in a plate of warm rice on a sweltering summer night. Sure, we cook Filipino dishes here but it does not have the same heart as the ones back home.
I miss how accessible transportation is in the Philippines and how I need not wait for a bus that comes every thirty minutes, enough time to make me freeze.
I miss how I can wear a pair of shorts and a shirt instead of three layers of clothing.
I miss how I hang out with my friends every weekend talking about endless sensible and nonsense stuff.
I miss having Chase and Missy with me, patiently wagging their tails in anticipation.
I miss how I could walk around and see familiar faces, the same black hair, brown eyes, and Asian skin.
I miss understanding what people are talking about and actually enjoy conversing in my native tongue.
I miss the polluted, littered streets of Manila and the fish ball carts and dirty ice cream.
I miss my family.
I miss my boyfriend.
Sure, Stockholm is definitely ten levels higher from my motherland in terms of development and how people are more disciplined and successful, but success is not everything in this world. There is also happiness. No wonder Sweden is in the top 20 of the world's most suicidal countries, and the Philippines ranks near 100.
God, I miss the Philippines!