Lourdes FRANCE
AUGUST 22
We stumbled upon an unexpected gem in Lourdes – a cozy Asian and Filipino restaurant owned by an Italian family. As we stepped inside, the warm, familiar aroma of home-cooked meals enveloped us, immediately sparking a sense of nostalgia. “Ilan kayo?” (How many of you?) greeted the Italian waiter, the owner’s son, in fluent Filipino caught me off guard. I responded with a smile, “Apat kami.” (Four of us) His Chinese wife, the restaurant’s chef, brought a delightful fusion of cultures to the place. We eagerly ordered grilled salmon with rice and vegetables, pork adobo with steaming white rice, pancit palabok, and arroz caldo – Filipino dishes we had not tasted since we arrived in Belgium over two weeks ago.
Walang Anuman
The evening was filled with the comforting buzz of Filipino chatter. We exchanged friendly greetings with two groups of Filipino customers, sharing snippets of our journeys that brought us all to this small town in France. After a satisfying dinner, I thanked the owner’s son with a heartfelt, “Maraming salamat.” (Thank you very much) He responded warmly, “Walang anuman.” (You are welcome) It was a simple exchange, yet it felt like a hug from home.
AUGUST 23
The next morning, on our way to the hotel restaurant for breakfast, we encountered an elderly European couple in the elevator. Noticing our distinct features, they asked with a knowing smile, “Philippines?” We nodded, and as I saw their luggage, I inquired, “Home?” “Yes, Italy,” the man replied. “God bless,” I uttered. “Thank you,” he said.
They Speak English
It amazed me how easily people recognize a Filipino face; there seems to be something unique about the features that has made us instantly recognizable, even in a crowd. I recalled one instance in Belgium. We were having our lunch in one restaurant when I overheard someone in a group at another table muttering, “They speak English.” It’s a feather in our cap that we ought to treasure, nurture, and build up.
Mario had particularly enjoyed the arroz caldo from the previous night so much that we thought of returning to the same restaurant for lunch. As we sat down to eat, Cher commented that the arroz caldo lacked the distinctive ginger bite we Filipinos are so fond of. But still, there was comfort in the familiar taste, even if it was not quite the same.
Holy Nap
We spent our last day leisurely strolling downtown, engaging in a favorite European pastime: people-watching. We indulged in ice cream from a street kiosk, sipped on Perrier at a sidewalk cafe, and enjoyed the lively atmosphere of the city. Later, we wandered the expansive, green grounds of the Lourdes Basilica. I even found a moment of peace to take a rare “holy” nap on a bench under the shade of towering trees – a small luxury amidst our travels.
However, travel isn’t without its surprises. Cher experienced a sudden flare-up of an old minor medical issue, likely brought on by the travel stress. With no French skill between us, Mario’s Samsung smartphone came to the rescue, translating our needs and helping us order the required topical cream at a local pharmacy. It was quite a sight – a transaction between two humans – the pharmacist and me – facilitated by a digital intermediary – a cellphone. Is this the future already unfolding before us?
Bistek, Lechon Kawale, Arroz Caldo, Atbp
Determined to savor every bit of Filipino cuisine we could, we dined again at the restaurant in Lourdes. We ordered a spread we could barely find in Belgium – bistek, lechon kawale, chopsuey, all served with rice, and another helping of arroz caldo.
AUGUST 24
During our hotel breakfast, we met a family of four from Madrid, Spain. The husband, originally from Quezon City, and his wife, from Butuan, shared their stories with us – another reminder of how small the world feels when you meet compatriots abroad.
Refiner’s Fire
We left Lourdes at 9 a.m., bracing for the 10-hour drive to Belgium. The journey to Lourdes had felt almost spiritual, like the slow ascent described in Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven. Our drive back, however, was a different story altogether – it was more of a Refiner’s Fire, a biblical metaphor describing God’s way of purifying His people, burning away impurities until only the purest silver remains.
Four “refining” episodes seemed to have marked our return journey. First, Mario made a wrong turn that added 100 extra kilometers to our route, an extra hour of travel, and about P4,200 in additional gas and toll fees. Then, Mario drove into a malfunctioning toll gate barrier, and the boom arm fell on the hood of his SUV. Next, we were caught in an unforeseen weekend traffic jam. Finally, for the first time, I saw Mario lose his temper when another car cut him off, causing him to honk his horn in frustration – a rare display of anger that momentarily threw him off balance.
We finally arrived home in Avelgem, Belgium at 2 a.m., seven hours behind schedule. Exhausted and utterly drained, we were ready to collapse into our beds.
Be Patient
Later, Merlita and Cher sensed that such four challenging episodes carried a message from Lourdes for Mario and his Type A personality – always organized, often impatient, and perpetually in pursuit of achievement.
As if in quiet contemplation, I found myself reflecting on a verse from the Bible: “Always be humble and gentle. Be patient with each other, making allowance for each other’s faults because of your love.” (Ephesians 4:2), Perhaps our journey was about more than just reaching a destination.
Ralph Waldo Emerson’s words nail it: “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey.”
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