Going to the mailroom in my building, pinned to the notice board, I saw a toque. It was beige. Along its edges was written ‘Baguio City’ in bold dark letters.

Twenty years I had been living in this building. During the winter I had observed the occasional glove which, when found by the caretaker, was pinned to the board. I waited a week. The toque was still there. I had never seen one from the Philippines, let alone Baguio. The Philippines baked in heat and humidity all year round. What need was there for a toque?