At Last, Him

Chapter 20: The Echo of Loss

The first week of September 2022 had finally arrived, and with it, the grand opening of Bali's newest airport—a project that had consumed years of meticulous work and unwavering dedication.

Habang nakatayo ako at napaliligiran ng mga kasamahan ko sa trabaho at iba't ibang tao na hindi ko kakilala, hindi ko mapigilan maging proud sa sarili ko. The entrance to the airport gleamed in the morning sun, its organic shapes and sweeping, fluid lines reflecting our team's deep connection to Bali's harmony between nature and progress. This was more than just a building; it was a symbol of resilience, a testament to creativity and hard work.

Ang mga tao ay naglalakad-lakad, ang kanilang mga mukha ay puno ng kasiyahan. Ang listahan ng mga bisita ay kahanga-hanga: key stakeholders, high-ranking government officials, prominent figures from the local community, and respected leaders from architecture and engineering. The air buzzed with conversation and the faint notes of traditional gamelan music.

Architect Pablo Roman, poised as ever, took to the stage. His suit was sharp, accented with subtle Balinese embroidery, and his eyes, usually steely with focus, carried a hint of emotion. Tumahimik ang lahat ng tao, senyales kung gaano kalaki ang epekto ng presensya niya. Talagang nirerespeto siya ng mga tao.

"Distinguished guests, colleagues, and friends," he began, his voice cutting through the stillness, "today marks the realization of a vision that began over eight years ago—a vision to create a gateway that embodies the essence of Bali, blending our respect for tradition with a stride toward the future."

Isang palakpakan ang umusbong, at hindi ko maiwasang makaramdam ng labis na pagmamalaki. Architect Pablo's words resonated with the journey we'd all been on, from sleepless nights filled with revisions to navigating the challenges of the pandemic. He spoke about each hurdle we faced, acknowledging the teamwork and ingenuity that turned obstacles into stepping stones.

Ang lead structural engineer namin na si Ravi Santoso ang sumunod na nagsalita. His speech was thoughtful, touching on the complexities of building in a region with seismic activity. Daniel Cortez, the sustainability consultant, followed with his characteristic warmth, describing the eco-friendly features woven into the airport's design that had reduced its carbon footprint.

Finally, the moment everyone was waiting for—the ribbon-cutting ceremony. A deep red ribbon stretched across the entrance, gleaming under the morning sun. The Governor of Bali stepped forward, holding a pair of gold-plated ceremonial scissors. My heart thumped in anticipation as he paused to smile at the guests before cutting through the ribbon with a sharp snip. It fell away, the crowd erupting into applause as a burst of fireworks lit up the sky, casting bright reds and golds across the airport's glass facade.

Huminga ako nang malalim, ang ingay at sigla sa paligid ay bumalot sa 'kin. Ito na 'yon, 'yong pinagpaguran namin. 'Yong pinaghirapan naming tapusin.

Guests began to move inside for the guided tours, and my role came to life. I led a group through the main concourse, my voice steady as I explained the design inspiration behind the curved, open spaces that mimicked the gentle movement of ocean waves. The guests looked up, their eyes tracing the arcs of the ceiling and taking in the soft light filtering through strategically placed skylights. It was satisfying to see the architecture speak for itself, communicating the calm and beauty we had envisioned.

I pointed out local art pieces that adorned the walls and described the importance of the greenery that flourished within the airport, a nod to Bali's lush landscapes and a touch of tranquility in an often-chaotic space. Nagtanong ang mga bisita, ang boses nila ay may bahid ng paghanga at respeto, at sinagot ko sila nang taas-noo ngunit nananatili akong mapagkumbaba, ninanamnam ang saya sa dibdib ko dahil parte ako ng isang napakalaking proyekto.