Maria Ligaya Photography

11/04/2026

A new story is now live on my website - "Reflection from a Tuktuk"

Some places do not stay with you because of their landmarks. They stay because of the small moments that passed in front of you and somehow never really left. A man pedalling more than his body should carry. A fruit stall glowing underthe sun. A street full of noise, wires, dust, movement, and yet still filled with a kind of quiet dignity that is hard to explain unless you have seen it up close.

This story was born from that kind of seeing. From inside a tuktuk, the world feels closer. There is no real distance between you and the life unfolding outside. You do not just pass through a place. You feel its breath, its weight , its flow. Its tiredness. Its ability to endure.

“A tuktuk does not allow distance. It opens you to the street, to its breath, its noise, its contradictions.”

What stayed with me was not only the motion of the roads, but the lives moving within them. The ordinary work. The patience. The way people keep going, even when the streets are narrow, the loads are heavy, and the day asks so much from them.

“You do not observe the urban environment. You enter it.”

I think that is what this piece is really about. Not just a ride, not just a place, but the kind of witnessing that travel sometimes gives us when we are quiet enough to receive it. The kind that reminds us that places are not made only of buildings and roads, but of people carrying stories we may never fully know.

“A place is not defined by its landmarks. It is defined by the moments that are almost invisible unless you choose to see them.”

My new story, Reflection from a Tuktuk, is now up on my website. (Link on my profile).

If it finds its way to you, I hope you will have a read. And if there is a line that stays, or a feeling that follows you after, I would love to know. Sometimes what we carry alone becomes gentler when another heart understands.

A quiet reflection from the back of a tuktuk in , capturing everyday life, movement, and human connection through travel photography.

22/03/2026

A new story is now live on my website - "Reflection from a Tuktuk"

Some places do not stay with you because of their landmarks. They stay because of the small moments that passed in front of you and somehow never really left. A man pedalling more than his body should carry. A fruit stall glowing underthe sun. A street full of noise, wires, dust, movement, and yet still filled with a kind of quiet dignity that is hard to explain unless you have seen it up close.

This story was born from that kind of seeing. From inside a tuktuk, the world feels closer. There is no real distance between you and the life unfolding outside. You do not just pass through a place. You feel its breath, its weight , its flow. Its tiredness. Its ability to endure.

“A tuktuk does not allow distance. It opens you to the street, to its breath, its noise, its contradictions.”

What stayed with me was not only the motion of the roads, but the lives moving within them. The ordinary work. The patience. The way people keep going, even when the streets are narrow, the loads are heavy, and the day asks so much from them.

“You do not observe the urban environment. You enter it.”

I think that is what this piece is really about. Not just a ride, not just a place, but the kind of witnessing that travel sometimes gives us when we are quiet enough to receive it. The kind that reminds us that places are not made only of buildings and roads, but of people carrying stories we may never fully know.

“A place is not defined by its landmarks. It is defined by the moments that are almost invisible unless you choose to see them.”

My new story, Reflection from a Tuktuk, is now up on my website.
If it finds its way to you, I hope you will have a read. And if there is a line that stays, or a feeling that follows you after, I would love to know. Sometimes what we carry alone becomes gentler when another heart understands.

27/02/2026

These photos have nothing to do with what I want to discuss in the following. They are skylines, bridges, glass towers, cities standing tall and unapologetic against the horizon. I am posting them because I love what these cities symbolize: movement, aspiration, possibility. But there is something that quietly unsettles me whenever I hear the phrase “Third World country,” especially when we use it to describe ourselves.

The term “Third World” did not originally mean poor, backward, or inferior. It was coined during the Cold War as a political classification. The “First World” referred to countries aligned with the United States and NATO. The “Second World” referred to the Soviet bloc. The “Third World” referred to nations that were non-aligned, many of them newly independent after colonial rule. It was never meant to measure intelligence, dignity, or potential. But over time, the meaning shifted. The phrase became shorthand for poverty, instability, corruption, and underdevelopment. It stopped being geopolitical and became hierarchical. First, Second and Third. When you number the world, you create an invisible ladder.

And when you repeatedly place yourself on the third step, something subtle happens inside you. You begin to internalize smallness. You excuse inefficiency and you normalize injustice. You laugh at broken systems as if they are permanent traits instead of problems waiting to be solved. You say, “Well, this is a Third World country,” as if that sentence is a full stop. But language shapes expectations, and expectation shapes behavior. If we keep calling ourselves third, we start behaving as if excellence is optional.

The Philippines is a developing country. That is an accurate economic term. Some countries are developed economies. Some are developing economies. Some are classified as least developed countries based on measurable indicators such as GDP per capita, industrialization, education, and infrastructure. “Third World” is not an economic category anymore. It is a cultural insult disguised as a description. When we use it casually, especially about our own country, we are not just describing roads or buildings. We are revealing mindset.

There is also history we cannot ignore. Many nations labeled “Third World” were shaped by colonization, exploitation, proxy wars, and global power struggles. Wealth did not distribute itself unevenly by coincidence. Resources were extracted. Borders were drawn by outsiders. Systems were inherited. Yet today we repeat a term born from Cold War politics as if it were a permanent verdict on a people. Think about what that does emotionally to a child growing up hearing their homeland ranked below others, to the diaspora already navigating identity fractures, to professionals who excel globally yet joke about coming from a “Third World country.” It plants a subtle hierarchy in the mind, a quiet comparison, and an invisible measuring tape. And once we accept that ladder, we begin ranking human dignity alongside GDP.

We do not need blind nationalism to speak with dignity. Loving a country does not mean pretending it has no flaws. It means believing it is capable of more. There is a difference between accountability and self-belittlement. If corruption exists, call it corruption. If systems are inefficient, say inefficient. If reforms are needed, demand reforms. But do not reduce a nation to a number that history has already distorted. The way we speak about our country shapes the confidence with which we build its future.

25/02/2026

www.mariawanderings.com

I’ve been sharing photos for years - pieces of moments that made me pause, faces that stayed, places that taught me to see differently. But I never had a real home for the stories behind them.

Then came an opportunity that felt like a gentle push in the right direction — becoming a Contributing Photographer for Travel + Leisure Co. reminded me that every story deserves a space to breathe.

So I built this space, a website as a tribute to many memories :
to the people who welcomed me,
to the animals who trusted me,
to the places that changed me in ways I can’t always explain.

It’s not just a collection of photographs. It’s a home for everything I’ve carried from the road - the quiet mornings, the wild hearts, the laughter, the lessons, the love that lingers even after goodbye.

If you’ve ever felt that travel is more than just seeing new places, that it’s also about remembering who you are along the way, then maybe you’ll find a piece of yourself here too.

Come wander through www.mariawanderings.com
Link is on my profile 🌍

14/02/2026

If today reminds us of anything , I hope it reminds us that Love comes in many forms.
It is not something only humans feel. It lives in animals too...

Valentines Day may last twenty-four hours . But Love, if it is real, asks for a lifetime.

And perhaps the most honest way to honour Love is this: Live in a way that makes the world safer for more than just yourself.

31/01/2026

Over time, I think about friendship and how, as you get older, your circle can become smaller and smaller, until it feels like it is shrinking on purpose. Someone once told me that after your 30s or 40s, this happens because your views have already formed. Maybe it is not just “views.” Maybe it is your worldview, your convictions, your values, your lens, your assumptions, your principles, the stories you swear are true because you have repeated them for years. And once those things harden, friendship stops being only about laughter. It starts being about how much truth you can hold in the same room without turning it into a fight.

For me, travel has been one of the quiet forces that has shaped my lens. Leaving home, coming back, living somewhere else, seeing how people survive, love, grieve, and believe across borders, it changes the way you measure right and wrong. It teaches you that the world is far more than the rules you have inherited. It also teaches you that some rules were never meant to be questioned, only passed down. And when you return to familiar people, you realize your growth can feel like betrayal to those who stayed the same.

The saddest part is not that friends have different views. Differences are normal. The pain is when some friends still carry outdated views that hurt others, and they call it tradition, or loyalty, or “just the way things are.” They are not trying to be cruel. They are trying to be faithful to the map they were given, the one that told them certainty is safety, and questions are danger. But I have learned that a kind heart can still be trapped inside a narrow frame. And sometimes the frame matters as much as the heart.

So your circle gets smaller not because you love people less, but because you finally understand what your spirit can afford. There are friendships that can stretch, and friendships that can only stay intact if you keep shrinking yourself.. There are conversations you can have with curiosity, and conversations that punish you for asking. Growing older teaches you this simple truth: not everyone who walks with you is meant to walk with who you are becoming.

Maybe friendship, like a desert, teaches us this: not everything that feels empty is barren. Some spaces are vast so you can hear your own thoughts clearly. Some journeys strip you down so you know what truly sustains you.

20/11/2025

Big or small, every life has a place in this world.

Watching the elephant, the rhino, the giraffe, the zebras, all just being there together, reminded me of something simple. No one was trying to stand out, no one was trying to take more than they needed. They were just sharing the same space under the same sun. And it felt so natural, so peaceful.

It made me think about how, in our everyday lives, people often forget about this. We move in circles where some voices get louder and others fade. Sometimes kindness is mistaken for vulnerability, and silence is seen as absence. But life isn’t meant to be a competition of who shines the brightest. The sun shines on everyone in the same way, and the water reflects on whoever comes near it. It’s meant to be a place where we all get to stand where we belong.

I’ve met people who made space for me when I doubted myself, and I’ve met others who made me feel small for simply existing beside them. But through the years of travel, through photography, through the quiet company of animals, I’ve learned that we can’t control who chooses to walk with us. What we can choose is who we become in the circle. Whether we become someone who takes space or someone who gives it.

The wild taught me that balance doesn’t come from power, it comes from peace. The elephant does not ask the zebra to move, and the rhino does not envy the giraffe’s height. They just live. They know that the world is wide enough for everyone.. Maybe that’s what I want to remember every time life feels crowded or unreasonable, that my space is mine, but so is yours. And there is room for all of us to exist without stepping on each other’s peace.
8h

15/11/2025

We all carry layers the way she carries her jewelry. Some are chosen, some are inherited, and some cling to us without our permission.

There are days at work when the noise feels heavier than it should be. Deadlines stack, opinions clash, and sometimes you meet people whose views feel too narrow for the world we live in today. In those moments, I remind myself of the life I have lived outside the four corners of my desk. I remember the roads I walked, the strangers who welcomed me, the cultures that held stories older than anything I learned in a classroom. I remember standing with people whose lives were built on meaning, tradition, courage, and grace. And I realise that not every weight placed on my shoulders is mine to carry.

Travel has taught me that. Every journey peels away something I did not need. Every culture showed me a way of living shaped by patience and understanding. Every portrait I took whispered a story that stretched far beyond my own. And through those experiences, I saw how ignorance often grows where curiosity never blooms. I learned that people speak from the limits of what they know. I learned that I do not have to shrink myself to match their worldview. My world has been stretched too wide to fit inside the borders of someone else’s smallness.

Photography became the place where I put all those lessons down. Behind the camera, I learned how to see slowly. I learned how to choose what is worth holding and what I can finally release. It taught me that my life is much bigger than any report, any spreadsheet, and any passing conflict. And every time work becomes draining, I return to the truth the world showed me: I am shaped by stories, by landscapes, by people who live with depth and intention. I am shaped by places that have taught me that understanding is the opposite of judgment, and that the world becomes kinder when you choose to look at it with open eyes.

13/11/2025

Whenever we see a lion up close, our first instinct is fear. We’ve been taught that they’re dangerous, that if you see one, they’ll attack immediately, that they’ll eat humans without hesitation. And yes, we do need to be careful. You never get out of the vehicle when you see one or in the National Park, you never test the wild. Respecting those boundaries is part of being there. But as I watched them longer, I realized something we often miss: they are not out there to harm for pleasure. They don’t wake up thinking of killing. They don’t destroy for fun. They don’t take more than what they need.

In the wild, there’s a kind of order that doesn’t need rules. The lion hunts only when he’s hungry, and when he’s done, he walks away. The rest of the meal doesn’t go to waste, it feeds the hyenas, the vultures, and the soil. And that soil grows grass again. The same grass that the antelope eats, and one day that antelope might feed another lion. It’s the simplest and most honest circle of life, one that works because no one takes more than what they need. There is no greed in the wild, no endless wanting, no need to own everything. Every creature knows when enough is enough. Every life taken gives life back in return.

What strikes me most is how much we can actually learn from that.
In nature, nothing is wasted. Every creature has a role, and every act, even death, has a purpose.

We humans take pride in being the most intelligent species, but maybe the wild is still wiser. Our consumption is uncontrolled, too much is taken, and we call it progress. Yet in doing so, we break the very circle that keeps life going. We fear animals like lions, but perhaps we are the ones who should be feared, because we take endlessly, often without need, and rarely give back.

The truth is, the wild isn’t dangerous - IT'S BALANCED. It does not waste, pretend, or lie. It only takes what it must to survive. Maybe that’s what we’ve forgotten: that real survival isn’t about taking as much as we can, but about living with respect for what allows us to live at all.

📍Etosha National Park, Namibia

09/11/2025

We can stand in the same place, in the same silence, in the same barren desert, but can look at it differently. Some will see the emptiness and call it distance. Others will see calm, a space that asks nothing from us anymore. Maybe that is how life works with the people we once called home. We can share the same view, yet feel different skies above us. And that is alright.

There was a time when I thought love meant keeping everyone close, making sure no one drifted away. I tried to hold every bond together, to fill every silence, to explain every change. But some connections are not lost, they simply grow in another direction. Some hearts need space to remember kindness again. Sometimes caring means loosening your grip, letting someone find their peace without you trying to guide them there.

There is a quiet kind of love that does not need to be constant to be true. It is in the thoughts we never say out loud, in the small hopes we still hold for each other from afar. It is in knowing that what we shared matters, even if it looks different now. We don’t have to talk every day to still wish each other well. Some bonds remain even in silence, softer, older, but still real.

We may never stand in the same place again, but I am thankful for the part where our paths met. Where laughter was easy and love was simple. Even the desert remembers what water feels like. But it does not beg for it anymore. It just glows quietly, beautiful in its surrender.

Deadvlei, Namibia