How this surfing couple packed up their life in a van and drove far away from the city, to bring up their kids by the sea, without a school, and free from convention.
“Can I have your cookie?” I ask, pointing to his oatmeal cookie that he almost went berserk over because dad almost accidentally threw it out. (I didn’t really want the cookie.) “Uhm…” he says, mulling it over. “Let’s half.” He splits his cookie in two, right smack in the middle, then hands the other one to me. Later on, he will do the same thing with his hotdog, offering the mangled sausage to me with his full mouth.
It is this kind of warmth and thoughtfulness that will take you aback—this sense of character, the incredible kindness, their concept of sharing—it jars you. Their social skills are intelligible, and they aren’t being graded for it. They don’t get a star for sharing a cookie, or a stamp for holding conversation with an adult. They just really warm up to you as a person, are curious about who you are and what you know. There is no judgment in their eyes—they approach every person with the same reverence. They will hold your hand, pull you with them, and open up their world to you.
Originally published in Esquire magazine, June 2017.
Selected as one of Esquire.ph's top stories of 2017.
Read the full story online at Esquire Philippines.