kkaepsongkid

[kkaepsongkid]

8.23.19

I found myself in a race against time, already running behind schedule for an event scheduled to begin at 6 o'clock. The clock read 5:52 pm, and I rushed out of the car without saying a word to my sister about when and where she would pick me up afterward. I sprinted as if my life depended on it while searching for the entrance. Staff members directed me, saying, "3rd Floor, Miss," "It's about to begin!" and "Enjoy!" In my peripheral vision, I noticed a few fellow latecomers, all of us in a hurry, trying to overcome the stress caused by the traffic we endured to make it here on time.

Door 421. I finally spotted it after minutes of running and fighting my way through. There was a staff member at the entrance, waiting for me to hand her a piece of paper for verification before I could enter. I paused momentarily to catch my breath, then finally gave her the paper. She read the information on it, asked me for my hand, and used a laser light as if tattooing something onto it. With a reassuring nod, she said, "Okay. You're all set." As I stepped into the arena, everything changed as if I had been transported to a different realm. The ambiance, the sounds, and the visuals I witnessed—all transformed. Silver lights danced around, people shouted and cheered, and some even stomped their feet in excitement. They all looked magnificent and beautiful, adorned with makeup and outfits—that I didn't prepare. I felt overwhelmed by everything I was currently witnessing. Briefly, I stepped back outside, grappling with the sheer surrealism of the moment. I couldn't believe this was finally happening—an interlude of silence during which I didn't think for a second, just absorbing everything around me. After regaining my composure, I re-entered. I wanted to find my seat, yet I felt lost. Being an introvert since high school, the most challenging aspect was approaching someone I had just met. After mustering the courage in a matter of seconds, I initiated a conversation with the person in front of me. Her response was marked by a warm smile as I handed over my ticket. She kindly pointed me in the direction of a staircase. Oh, God, that was tough! Finally, I found my seat. I couldn't shake off the feelings of shyness and self-doubt. What if they were staring at me? What might they be thinking or saying about me? These questions swirled in my mind, as if I were under scrutiny by the audience, merely for navigating the stairs and looking for my seat, fearing I was an inconvenience due to my tardiness. I soon located my seat, only to find someone already occupying it. In my mind, it presented yet another dilemma I needed to confront. Why were these things happening to me, as if life was challenging my introverted nature? I stood there for a few seconds, wrestling with indecision. Eventually, the person who was seated in my spot realized that I was the rightful occupant. She stood up and moved to her actual seat, offering a smile and an apology, instructing me to sit where I belonged. That's how I resolved the dilemma—without saying a word. It's fascinating how perceptive people can be about others' emotions, isn't it? I returned her smile. Finally, I felt settled. I was grateful to her for the understanding. Thank God, thank God! The music playing shifted, and the cheering grew louder as the familiar strains of a beloved fan-favorite tune started playing. The arena plunged into darkness, a cue that the event was about to start. It seemed like they held off starting the show until I had taken my seat. #Delulu_hour_open. The girl sitting next to me said, "It's starting." I took out my phone and recorded the shimmering sea of silver lights. God, this is real. I drew in a long, heartfelt breath, finally realizing that after countless years of being a fan, the moment had arrived. I was about to see EXO, the K-pop idol boy group from South Korea. It was August 23, 2019, at 6:03 pm—a moment I had awaited for my first-ever K-pop concert, first K-pop lightstick ocean, first K-pop fanchant, first of the first K-pop experience.

[kkaepsongkid]

Morning Melodies

Whenever my mom woke us up for school during my elementary years, my sister was consistently the first one to get up, shower, and get ready. I would linger in bed for an extra 5-10 minutes, staring up at the ceiling with its small holes that could be counted on one hand. While I stared, the sound of the radio filled our entire house, like a loyal companion echoing the halls of our home. I recall waking up early because either Mom or Dad would turn on the radio, treating it like their daily newspaper and the perfect companion to their morning coffee. It felt like listening to the sound of the radio became my morning melodies, from our bedroom, where I could see my parents engaged in conversation while sipping their coffee. I vividly remember the phrase 'ang lalaking hindi inuumaga' when the early morning talk show aired, and the host greeted his listeners. It became his signature line, part of his introduction to the program. I remember hearing it for the first time when he introduced himself as 'Henry Maceda.' His voice became a staple in my mornings, with my parents always tuning in, especially when he discussed the day's weather report. I also recall being awakened by the sound of a drum or 'tambol' in the early morning, along with the cheerful greeting, 'Marhay na aga mga ka-Bombo!' As I grew older, listening to the radio became an integral part of our family's daily routine, treating it as a morning melodies reverberated through every corner of our small house. It wasn't limited to just my parents enjoying it during their morning chores; it became a shared hobby for my siblings, especially on days when there were no classes. On weekends, my brother, a music enthusiast, would text the DJ of the radio music program we tuned into in the afternoon, requesting his favorite songs while we do our assignments. We eagerly anticipated the moment when the DJ would finally read his message on air. When that moment arrived, we were overjoyed, feeling like we'd struck gold, as if a superstar had finally acknowledged our existence. In elementary school, when my teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I remember responding with 'I want to be a teacher,' 'I want to be a fashion designer,' or 'I want to work in an office where we answer calls and speak in English.' However, as I became more familiar with radio and immersed myself in it, everything about it inspired me to pursue a different path than what I had once told my teachers. It wasn't until high school that I realized my interest in radio and how it operated, even though finding information about it was quite a challenge back then, beyond my personal listening experiences. Radio's morning melodies were more than just the songs and voices that emanated from its waves; they were the symphony of our family unity and shared moments. There was this time in my senior year of high school when we were encouraged to dress as if we were already in the profession we aspired to pursue. In my mind, there was only one specific outfit that fit the bill, so I asked my mom to help me find it or borrow it from someone else. As we paraded around the school during the event, a classmate asked about my attire, and I proudly answered, 'I want to be a broadcaster!' with conviction. As I stand on the threshold of the future, I cherish the memories of those early mornings, with the sound of the radio filling our home and the warmth of family conversations intertwined with music. Morning melodies from the radio were the soundtrack of my childhood, where my dreams all began, no matter how improbable they may have seemed.