Filipinos have long treated food security and food self-sufficiency as though they were the same, as if a country that grows all the food it eats automatically has a well-fed population.

A 29-hour journey is a long time to think about a sporting career. There are connecting flights, airport layovers, uncomfortable seats, and the inevitable question of whether the person beside you has also decided that sleeping on an airplane is an exercise in futility. For nine young Filipino athletes on their way to Dakar, Senegal, however, the long trek is hopefully headed to success. They are about to compete in the 2026 Youth Olympic Games, an event that could become an important chapter in their sporting lives.

In high school, our mentors taught us noun declensions, Caesar’s campaigns in Gaul and four-part harmony. Somewhere between Latin and music, we also acquired the comforting belief that we were neither rich nor poor. With P50 in our pockets, we could go places and still come home with change. Life was a picnic. We did not realize the picnic had an expiry date.

There are few things in life that can transform a perfectly reasonable Filipino into an aggrieved Elizabethan actor quite as quickly as a traffic dispute. The most demure women become tigresses. Soft-spoken gentlemen discover that their vocal cords have capabilities they never knew existed. People who would ordinarily apologize when someone steps on their shoes suddenly develop an unshakable conviction that the entire road system has been personally entrusted to their care. And the language. My goodness, the language.