Memory is a precarious place... As I advance in age and especially in periods of isolation, I would become an eager tourist recalling the yearly pilgrimage to our hometown in Iloilo as a young boy. For some, childhood remembrances is a muddled quarter of nostalgia, for others, a breath of fresh air and a safe haven. We create and recreate our own realities and these must include our memories, and where we fail to summon particulars with sufficient accuracy, we inadvertently revise - just enough, so as to satisfy our need to belong, or be at home, to affirm our identity, or to fend off our fear of forgetfulness.- Salvador Joel Alonday