The house on Algier Street

four stories of dark, solid adobe rock and a large peaked roof girded by square glass windows that seemed to suggest a space both unusual and intriguing. it seemed to belong in another place, somewhere foreign, maybe colder. (to my yet-untraveled, young imagination, that place was baguio.) it seemed so proud to be different, and defiant to be made of what it was amidst a quiet makati neighborhood of low, small, squat houses with flat galvanized iron roofs and wooden walls. back then, i didn't know the street it was on was named algier street.

i have been fascinated by the house on algier street as long as i can remember. growing up, i would pass by on my way to school, and it always arrested my attention, whether in a quick, second swivel of the head or a long, drawn-out, slow-moving gaze. as i grew older, a landscape of glass, steel and manicured grass sprung up around the house. a year or two ago, i noticed a "for sale" sign below the blue peaked roof and thought that whoever bought the house would be a very fortunate and unusual family. the length of time between the sign's appearance and its subsequent disappearance escaped my attention.

however, my curiosity never faded. it simply wandered idly to the back of my mind, where i always wondered what the house looked like inside, and what kind of people lived in such a proud and unusual house.

last saturday, i stepped inside and found out.

to be continued