Safe Spaces

By the Balcony

Other countries get confused about porches, verandas, patio, desks, and other house extensions, but rarely would you see them in the Philippines, except for balconies. This may have been greatly inspired by the dominant architecture during the Spanish colonialism in the country, which used balconies to accommodate service kitchens during grand parties. Today balconies are spaces that allow one to view the higher ground and get fresh air for relaxation.

Our balcony was my favorite place in the house. It allowed me to take "instagrammable" pictures of the sky, chill by the benches, and get concept inspirations. Its construction finished last month, just before the community quarantine was announced, which I all paid for using my hard-earned money from my gigs as a photographer. It had an area intended for gatherings of four to five people, and its corners were decorated with potted plants. Half of the space would be filled with newly washed clothes, often every Wednesday, so they could dry faster. Whenever my boyfriend Eloi would visit, we would stay there and just chill out.

The peaceful balcony stays, however, were short-lived.

In the afternoon of April 7, 2020, Eloi and I were standing by the railings, reminiscing our last prenuptial photoshoot a month ago before the pandemic happened, when we noticed a kid staring at us by the window of our neighbor's house. She had full bangs and mid-length hair, wearing a bunny pajama and holding a stuffed doll; she did not look friendly, however.

"Creepy," Eloi commented. "You know this kid?"

"Not really," I replied. "We never got to meet our neighbors face to face, except during mass at the village chapel before. It's like . . . we mind our own business. Although from time to time, we hear loud quarrels and karaoke sing-alongs from nearby houses."

"So you know who lives there?" Eloi asked, moving his head as if he was pointing to the house in front of us.

"I don't know them personally, but I remember seeing a couple in their, hmm, mid-thirties. Though I didn't know they have a daughter. Also, I think it's being rented, as I see different people coming in and out of that house." I paused and looked at the neighbor's window. She was still there, intently staring at us. "You know what, let's get inside the house and have some coffee, shall we?"

Eloi agreed, so we walked toward the door leading to the second floor. When I looked back, the kid was gone.

I alarmed my phone at one thirty in the morning of April 8 because I wanted to witness and take pictures of the Super Pink Moon phenomenon, which was reported to peak at two in the morning. I got up, went to my sisters' bedrooms, and found Emerald, my younger sister, awake; however, Ruby, our elder sister, was already asleep. "You up for the moon?" I asked Emerald.

"Yeah, but it's only one thirty, Ate Pearl," she said, lying down and typing something on her phone. "You're thirty minutes early."

"What about I get you some good shots?" I smiled, raising my DSLR. Emerald was enthusiastic, of course, being the aspiring model and influencer in our family—thanks to me, the professional photographer, that she's one step closer to her dreams.

She got up and dressed in an alluring nightgown, while I browsed for inspirations on Pinterest. When she was done tying her hair, both of us went to the balcony. I got the stool and asked Emerald to stand on it and then pose for some photos. Though the awaited phenomenon was not happening yet, the moon was still big and beautiful, just perfect for the shots I wanted.

Looking through the viewfinder, I signaled, "Don't move, okay? One, two, three," before clicking the camera button. I got two more shots before she went down and viewed them.