CARLA BIANCA V. RAVANES
As i write this, the nation has already slowed down. One of my favorite memories of Holy Week is the one spent in our old apartment in the heart of Kapitolyo in Pasig City (before it was just called Barrio Kapitolyo). Our small house was just right across the village’s church and because of that Holy Week was always eventful. I can still recall the times it was just me, my mom, and my brother because my dad was living in Sarangani for a time. Even as a child, I viewed Holy Week as a time of reverence and silence, which has always been difficult for me because I was never one to sit still or be quiet.