Dear Diary,

“her life here in Seoul is different from that in the Philippines. The people walking down the street Sandara see look exactly like her, speak exactly like her and eat exactly like her. Although, that’s not the best thing of being back. I am most glad that I am with the people I love —her parents and younger sister, Kara.

Now, I get to eat her Appa’s cooking everyday inside the Appa’s Kitchen (that’s the name of our small restaurant). It’s cozy and customers are coming in, keeping us busy almost every hour. Appa is a good cook, by the way. That’s the very reason why he’s in charge in the kitchen. Umma? It’s better for her to run the cashier.

her role is to clean the tables, greet the customers, do deliveries, and take the orders. Talk about servitude. And I thought I would be the one taking over the kitchen. But, no… I, a graduate of Hotel and Restaurant Management, was clearing tables, serving customers, and delivering orders.”

Sandara stopped writing and faced her umma, who was busy counting the money from the register. “Omma, don’t you think it’s time for me to take over the business?” She asked in a mattar-of-fact tone.

Her mom glanced over to her over the desk. “Do you think you’re ready?” Came her reply.

Sandara still staring at her mom and nodded.

Yes. She was.

Well, she was trained by her father in the kitchen even when she was still in her pigtails and hugging her teddy bear. Watching him preparing for their meals made her more interested to learn how to cook good food. Even when Sandara went gaga over K-Pop and Big Bang, her interest in cooking didn’t waver.

Sandara love cooking as much her love for sketching and piano. Sandara sighed; her parents’ sold her piano when depression hit their family. Now, their family isn’t struggling financially, but not enough for her or Kara to enjoy buy beautiful things either.

Besides wasn’t she the one who ran the kitchen for 2 days straight, since her appa recently wasn’t feeling well.