What the hell is an aircon?

We never stopped sweating. Mosquitoes loved whatever sweet 1st world excess gushed from our pores. My tubao was my best friend and my second line of defense. It wiped away the sweat streaming into my eyes when my thick eyebrows didn’t complete its evolutionary task. How stupid would I look with a sweatband on? What the hell is an aircon? Mel once crazily fanned herself with her notebook to keep cool during a jeepney ride. We were in a traffic jam. The heat from the pavement rose up to the big metal chunk of jeepney we were in and turned it into an oven. “Stay still,” I said. “You’ll feel cooler if you just stay still.” Watching her frantically fanning herself - and me and Cris, cuz this is a collective struggle - made me feel even hotter and more anxious for the traffic to move. At least when the jeepney is moving, the breeze through the windows cools me down temporarily until the next para and we have no choice but to step out into the merciless Manila heat again. “Ay, tanga. Sana dinala natin yung mga pamaypay na binili natin,” Mel said. “Ugh, stupid. We should have brought those fans we bought.”