There are only two occasions when I feel like a stranger in my own district: one is when I am having coffee at the Cubao Hogwarts Espresso Station while a basketball game is going on at the coliseum; the other when I am walking through the Araneta Center Bus Terminal at a time when people are rushing off to their hometowns. On both occasions the place is filled with thousands of transients. The existential, paradoxical feeling I get is that all who surround me traveled far and wide just to get to the center and are anxious at being at a strange destination, yet I myself am actually home, calm, and centered, though nobody else knows it.