My eyes open and I hear the sound of the sea in a shell. The garbled static of water in my ears. There is no dream to remember this morning. I reach for my phone to to turn down the volume of the Spotify rain playlist. The pattering of water on roofs is coming from outside. Actual rain, the kind you can’t control the volume of. 

Today is fiesta. And the rain is tropical. Out of the 3 days, Google weather has forewarned this would happen, today is the day it accurately predicts the forty per cent chance of downpour.  

In the spirit of kindness, I will concede that Fort Pilar is one of Zamboanga’s attractions. Special mention goes to Santa Cruz Island noted for it’s pink beach which in reality takes it’s prized colour from the crushed coral mixed with sand. Wear sandals.

Context: Fort Pilar was a military fortress established to protect the city from sea pirates and invaders. Built by the Spanish, using a mix of imported labour. I’m politely saying that they couldn’t find enough native sweat so they enlisted or indentured locals from around the Archipelago. Bonus fact: They also funnelled in labour from other South American colonies. Proof is in the dialect. We are the only Spanish speaking creole in Asia.   

Some priest commissions a relic of the Patron Saint of Spain – La Virgin de Pilar. The Virgin Mary was placed above a stone wall to protect the city. Time tumbles on, wars, other stuff no one cares about happens, and eventually the east wing of the Fort is converted to an outdoor shrine to our Holy Mother complete with Alter and Mass friendly. The Virgin de Pilar proves her metal. When she appears to soldiers and assures them of victory, they win. This happens more than once. NB: Catholic church says, you are only miraculous if you perform three miracles. The Virgin Mary is the Virgin Mary so she’s exempt from that rule. But of course, because she is an achiever and the most miraculous Mother, a Tsunami is thwarted through her divine power – fisherman recount how they saw her holy apparition walking over the sea and sand to save us from the crush of water. Ta babe. There’s a saying here that whether, you are Christian, Muslim or an aberation. We all believe in La Virgen- protect us from harm.

My Uncle goes to Fort Pilar every night to pray rosaries. So, we all go every night to Fort Pilar to pray rosaries. Last night, people snake through the Fort in orderly lines to light candles and to general worship. It’s busy. Men on questionable scaffolds arrange bouquets of white flowers everywhere. Along the stone wall, around the alter, above the saints. Preparations will go long into the night. I will say, I am diligent, I pray my rosaries using an app on my phone, because lord knows how many rosaries have been given to me that I don’t carry in my handbag like my cousin. 

This morning I think of the rained on flowers. I wake up to my novel. The idea forms from an ache in my heart.

SJ xx