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| | Lisa Chipongian: Intramuros |
 | | Even though many of the towns had been bombed, what was lefthalf a statue, the outer walls of a market, the remains of a train stationrevealed the same thing to me: another version of my own town, minus whatever had been blown away. |
 | | Inside Intramuros, Manilas walled city, the streets turned to cobblestone, and the truck and the crates and the driver and I shook violently. |
 | | I was so tired I lay on the cot assigned to me and slept until dusk when the whole house, full of lifethe clang of the cooks bell calling everyone in for dinner, voices, rapid footsteps on the stairs, in the rain-pattered courtyardwoke me, and I walked along the balcony toward the dining room hall. |
| bostonreview.net /BR30.2/chipongian.html (3954 words) |
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