Chapter 3

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The first time I saw renowned newscaster Cherry Ronillo standing in the midst of a typhoon with a microphone in her hands, I knew I wanted to become a reporter. My eyes were glued to the screen as I watched strong currents of water sweep away cars and debris on the streets of Metro Manila. A typhoon had just hit the city and the floods were waist deep. Outside an evacuation center, Cherry clutched her microphone and faced the camera with a determined look in her eyes. Clad in her yellow raincoat, her hair plastered all over her face, she told the world what was happening-thousands of families had been evacuated, but many more were stuck on the roofs of their homes.

I remember feeling utterly helpless as Mommy, Daddy, and I prayed the rosary that night. The next morning, I begged them to let me join my cousins, who had volunteered to help with relief efforts in Manila. But of course, I wasn't allowed to go. The heavy rains had also damaged some areas of the resort and we had our own cleaning up to do.

As someone who was always stuck at the resort, I longed to explore the rest of the country and be in the thick of the action. I wanted to meet new people and talk to them, not just from behind the resort's information desk, but out there, in the real world. But since I couldn't do that, I lived vicariously through Cherry.

My admiration for her grew the more I learned about her. I watched all of her news reports and read every feature article about her that I could find in print and online. She had been to numerous places around the Philippines and talked to so many interesting people. Whether it was a high-ranking official or a homeless person on the streets of Manila, she would ask such insightful questions and really dig deep into whatever she was reporting about. She never seemed to let dangerous situations faze her, whether it was a flash flood or a hostage situation.

Cherry's reports were never a boring monologue. She was always telling an important story in a way that grabbed her viewers' attention-and I wanted to do the same.

I was only a freshman in high school then, but I knew that if I was ever going to make it out of my hometown, I needed to make a solid plan. After doing some research, I learned that Cherry had been a scholar at JMU. She was a Communication Arts major and president of the JMU Debate Society. While most of my classmates were at a loss as to which course to take, the path ahead of me was crystal clear.

Step One: Get a scholarship to study in Manila-the place where all the action is.

Step Two: Study Communication Arts.

Step Three: Start my own vlog to practice my speaking and reporting skills.

Step Four: Join the college debate team and become a top debater, just like Cherry.

Step Five: Watch the news every day to be up-to-date with current events.

Now that I'm a student at JMU, everything is going just as I had planned.

* * *

A blast of hot air strikes me when I step outside our apartment building. The sweat trickles down my forehead and my hair clings to my neck as soon as I start walking. When I visited the campus over the summer, Val showed me the quickest way to get there: Climb up the pedestrian overpass to the other side of the street, then ride one of the campus jeeps to get to whichever building my classes would be held. It seemed easy at the time because there were hardly any students around. But today, there is a long line at the waiting area and all the jeeps that pass by are full.

Since I have another half hour before freshman orientation starts, I decide to just walk to the school covered courts. By the time I get there, my shirt is drenched and I smell a whiff of body odor. Darn it! I'm going to need a stronger deodorant.

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