When asked for her real name, the feisty woman in a rural whorehouse would quip, “Ligaya. It means joy. And that’s what I sell.” Yet the small-town prostitute is not resigned that she would be in the flesh trade forever. She still harbors the dream of getting out of the job someday. She saves money and fancies that someone would come and marry her as if she were clean and never been a whore. That becomes almost a reality when a hardworking farmer enters her life. Under some problematic circumstances, her chances get blown away-but not exactly of her sole doing.