Chapter 1

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My name is Isaiah Santos. As a blogger, I share my views and opinions regarding certain events in history, writing satirical comments about the political autocracy of our legendary conquerors – the Spaniards. If you are interested, you can visit my website, www.IslaFilipinas.com.

Once a week, I post some of the most memorable and iconic Pinoy legends and myths on my website. I also post photos of antique paraphernalia with significant value, such as ancient houses owned by dons and doñas from the Colonial era.

My romance with history books started when I was a little boy. My mother was a history teacher, and she influenced me to practice World Literature, specializing in Philippine History. I remember the bedtime stories she told me about our Filipino heroes and heroines during the uprising against the colonial Spaniards. I will then tell those stories to my friends at school, as well as stories about the tribes from the mountains of Mindanao and Luzon. Most notably, their Pagan Gods and beautiful rituals.

During my time in high school, I joined The Historian Club with my best friend, Albert. I was lucky to play the character of our national hero, Dr. Jose Rizal in our school play during National Heroes Day. I got excited to tell my parents about this achievement, and when I did, they were so proud of me. They took my two brothers to watch me perform at the Piazza, where our play was held. I had no problems reading and memorizing my lines, probably because my mother taught me how to read prior to the age of 5. So, before I started going to the daycare center, I was already reading children's books.

Don't get me wrong, I was never the brightest kid in school. My grade in History was superb, that's why I wanted to go to school every day. I did an above-average job with other subjects as well as relatively flunking Math – just like everybody else did. I wasn't a special kid at school, but my best friend, Albert, on the other hand, was the active one. He loved sports as much as he enjoyed The Historian Club. Although, I was the one who encouraged him to join the club. I just told him that it would be cool for us to learn important things from the past. Once he said "yes" to my invitation, the two of us signed up and we never left until we graduated.

We've practically known each other for as long as I can remember, all because both our moms were ­BFF's too. We grew up together in the same neighborhood, and we were like brothers. He was an only son whereas I have two brothers, one older and one younger. At times, he'll ask me to play badminton with him and I'll even let him borrow my books. We kept each other's balance; we had a strong bond. Albert was more physically superior, mainly because he spent a lot of time training at the gym and running at parks, while I buried myself at the library or the internet. When we got to college, I took World Literature while he polished his skills in IT & Programming. He was the one who pushed me to put up my own blog and promised to create my own website; all I had to do was write it. We're connected in that sense, I was more of a reader and dreamer, and Albert was the practical one, captivated by the fast, moving technology we have today. He wanted to be a part of the new age revolution. He wanted to take that ride, to be a man of tomorrow; and I felt like I was the exact opposite. Albert was a cool guy; he got most of the attention from the ladies, while I was the one hiding behind his shadows. I kind of like it that way since I wanted to be left alone. But every once in a while, I would get my shining moment. Although, I could barely remember the last time I had one. I don't blame him for it though, it's not his fault the girls like him. And besides, he never takes his popularity seriously anyway. For most of the years we knew each other, he managed to maintain a clean haircut while I was sporting wavy, unkempt locks. He has a muscular and fit build, while I was the skinny one. He had sun-tanned skin, while I was dead-white pale. I knew that I was decent looking, and I hoped that revelation didn't make me conceited but a girl in high school confirmed my assumption. I remember blushing at the school gym when she turned around and left me staring blankly at her back. She was the first one who told me I was different, that I have something that Albert didn't. When I asked her what it was, she shrugged and said,

"I'm curious about you. You're cute." I'll never forget what she said to me. I knew that my aloof character made people want to know me, to know what I was thinking; I was sort of an enigma. Albert tried to hook me up with girls in college, but most of them only wanted to drink and have fun. They aren't even interested with what I was going to say. I hung out with people from the library, the ones who enjoy the confinement around bookshelves. I knew some of them by name, and others by face. At times, we go to coffee shops to discuss what would Jose Rizal do if he's alive today at our time. Will he run for office? We considered this as our gimmick night during Saturdays while Albert goes to the bar to get drunk, and have the "real fun". Our mothers were roommates back in their college days, so they thought it would be fun if Albert and I continued the tradition they started. As a result, they rented us a unit along the avenue in front of the university. It was fun living with your best friend; just the two of us, having the time of our lives without supervision. It's a teenage dream! The freedom that college brought to us was overwhelming, you needed to assess yourself every day to know if your priorities were still in check. The only downfall living with a best friend - privacy was somehow impossible to achieve; being responsible for each other was another thing. In our case, it was more of a burden at times.

However, since Albert is my best friend and we're practically linked like twins, we're still different individuals with different needs. Although, we fell under the notion of having each other's back regardless of our differences, the job of being a homie could be stressful if you want to be alone. One night, I came home late from my coffee session with my friends, and I saw him passed out on the couch. I took this chance to have the bedroom for myself but the silent celebration didn't last long. Because later, I woke up when Albert was snoring right next to me. He didn't even try to get to his own bed. So much for privacy!

It was during Junior year in college when I started blogging. It's the middle of January, fresh from the holidays. The sky was clear, and the weather was cold. We were having lunch in a diner along Gonzales Street. I was browsing the NYTimes app on my iPad; while Albert was drinking coffee to nurse a hangover. He stared at me blankly, as I told him about my recent discovery: the myth of Valeria. Although, it didn't surprise me that Albert had no idea who she was. I'm not even surprised that nobody knew her at all. Her very existence was unexpected to me. Should I call it accidental? I have no idea, yet I comforted myself with the assumption that destiny brought us together. She was the reason I kept digging into history books to look for cool stuff to share. I knew my interests were boring to others, but I couldn't ignore the fact that someone out there might like it. That's how I convinced myself to start blogging, and I'm thankful that Albert created a navigable website for me. So, how did I know about Valeria?

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