The room was thick with smoke. I remember the fog at the UP campus at its thickest, that's how it was. Except that it was a barabecue-flavored byproduct of charcoal combustion.
My sister and I ordered food and found ourselves a table. Over at the next table, a couple of Chinoy kids ate with their hands, capping off their meal with some isaw while their SUV was parked right outside the window.
This is what I love about Surigao... Great food, the best isaw and inasal I've ever tasted, in fact, - at dirt cheap prices... And the fact that nobody's really rich enough to look down on you in this town. Well, they could. But it's not like I'm saying they would. And the fact that they do and enjoy some of the very same things that we, common people, do - like eating isaw at a cheap barbecue joint at the Pier - tends to even things out a bit.  Labels: rantings, Surigao |
