Vacation Musings: Christmas Mass in Manila

I've entered a time machine and it's called the Christmas Mass in the Philippines. All of a sudden, long dormant habits are awoken as I bathe in the experience. The flick of my wrist as I open and close my fan. The feeling of air blowing on my neck and shoulders as the electric fan swivels back and forth, back and forth, trying to keep the sweat at bay. The words of the hymns and prayers in Tagalog, long unsaid and unsung, spring to my lips. I am home. They feel familiar and strange on my tongue all at the same time. In them, I taste my past, my teenage years.