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the aroma of brewing two yellow quezons, one pink osmeña and one golden aguinaldo with a dash of cinnamon powder is enough to give the posh coffee shop a more relaxed and warmer atmosphere. you wait in anticipation for your electro-organic receipt to light up so that you can claim your cup of the nainpaibchiatto coffee. as the coffee’s aroma slowly inch its way to your olfactory system, you realize how the technology of the day muted the baristas to mere vessels of business transaction. for a split second, you realize how you missed the human touch once present in coffee shops. you prefer the greeting of your favorite barista as an appetizer rather than the welcome speech of the computer generated receptionists at the front door.
for ten years, you have been hanging out with your friends every saturday night to chill and catch up with each other’s lives. your circle is a fan of the chiatto coffee line. most of your friends preferred the hon’redchiatto coffee, the double hon’redchiatto coffee and the triple hon’redchiatto topped with their favorite cream flavors. you, on the otherhand, preferred the nainpaibchiatto coffee not just because of its aroma and taste, but also because of the feeling of satisfaction it gives you after convincing yourself that you have void your system from the consumerist attitude of most coffee drinkers. for a number of years, you have convinced yourself that drinking the nainpaibchiatto is a reward you deserve after a week of work and stress. you have successfully programmed your system that your act is far from merely bragging your social status to other consumers but a well-deserved privilege for hard workers like you.
as your electro-organic receipt started to blink, you rush to the counter to pick your cup of coffee. the moment you stir your coffee cup, you felt the familiar feeling of sudden tremor as the floor tiles shift positions to reveal the look of the place you pictured in your head. the walls and the ceiling slowly bathe themselves in wild hues of cyan, red and yellow as you take your first sip from your cup. you wipe the froth that embraced your lips and felt the beard and the moustache you have ten years ago.
your friends are teaching you the rules of poker and pusoy to kill the dominating boredom in the air. you question them why diamonds are more valued than hearts in the realm of cards. they tell you to accept things as they are; but your senses, alerted and heightened by the nainpaibchiatto coffee, refused to accept their explanation. so instead of listening to them, you choose to hear the conversations of the lawyer couple on the next table arguing if they are still going to pursue an empty case against a writer just to please their daughter who possess a limited view of the realities in her society. you hear the rants of two mothers over their economic dilemma. it is a puzzle that while the value of the local currency increased in the stock market, the price of local goods and other major commodities such as rice, sugar, oil, vegetable and meat products also escalates fast. talks about government destabilization are discussed by the group of high school girls from the table at your back.
you take another sip and the bitter sweet taste of the coffee dived to your blood stream.
you feel a tight swell in your chest, the same repressed feeling of blended emotions that blanketed you a month after that night.
the moderate tremors of your hands soaked your plane ticket in sweat. random flashes and flashbacks of more than twenty years of memories rapidly cross your mind as you read your destination- the knotted states of ‘mrikka.as you drag your luggage to the airport, you carry with you the weight of your worries and your uncertainties. you breathe in with the bitter-sweet aroma of the nainpaibchiatto. next thing you know, you float in oblivion amidst the sea of clouds that carries your bags of worries and uncertainties.
an extra strong dose of courage seized your senses as you sip the last drop of nainpaibchiatto from your cup. you feel invincible despite the incessant threats of the people along the imperial street of coup vow. prostituted women, repressed politicians, spoiled bratinellas, perverted policemen and power-hungry youth infested the street like rats who ceaselessly threat the security of the passers-by every 3 am.
there is nothing to fear, now that you know their threats are nothing but empty acts of defense mechanism to guard them against the society that outcasts them years ago. you heard their faintest sobs of fear and insecurity against their world. you know they wouldn’t hurt you unless you step on to their remaining bits of ego.
after an hour of walk, the nainpaibchiatto you had slowly escapes through the pores of your skin. finally, you reconcile with your bed and realized that the effects of the nainpaibchiatto coffee slowly fade out. you feel the tension in the atmosphere, you hear the clamor of the busy streets, you see the glitter of the few aguinaldos and rizal in your table, and you smell the uninviting aroma of the drainage holes in the street. nainpaibchiatto is nearly out of your system.
you miss the coffee that keeps you sober amidst the intoxicating realities of your world.
