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Nayori

2008-06-21T10:54:00.000-07:00

Who’d have thought, I'll meet you at the ocean? There I was, sitting in my usual spot on the beach, down by the old rocks, holding a shell I just picked up, scratching its surface to remove dried sand on it; putting it to my ear, hoping to hear something new, besides the usual sound of the ocean.

And when I looked up, I noticed you from the distance -- you, and your long hair -- not too long but it lengthens as the wind throws it to the side, and you use your hand to keep it from your face. Your form looked so beautiful against the backdrop of orange, red and purple splashed across the early evening sky.

"Did you see the sunset?" I shouted. "It was so beautiful. We get those sunsets a lot here."

"Really?" you said. "I came out too late for it I guess. I slept all afternoon. I had just gotten in from a long trip last night, so I was really tired." You said that while still looking at the marks on the sand, and holding your hair to your cheeks.

You are standing close to the water, straining to look, wondering if those tiny marks on the sand are actually from little turtles that had just set out to the ocean. You've been told they nest here, and that they hatch around this time of the year.

They must have been really tiny, you thought. And you whispered a little prayer, that they make a safe journey to wherever they need to be, and come back, here in this very shore, many years later, stronger and bigger, to start a new journey.

"Yes, those are turtle tracks," I said, reading your mind. You look up at me. "The last one of them actually crawled to the sea just before the sun itself disappeared." I added.

"Oh, I missed a lot, didn't I?"

"There'll be sunset again tomorrow, I assure you that." I said, smiling.

"How about turtles?" You were walking towards me by this time, still sweeping your eyes around the shore, looking for something, like something you’ve lost.

I stood up. "I'll walk you around the cove tomorrow, if you want, to look for other hatchlings." That seemed to comfort you and then you stopped searching.

Like these turtles, you have been to this beach before. You were born in this coastal city but grew up in another place where the air does not smell of sea-salt. And you’ve always heard from your parents about how beautiful this beach was. It was the reason your parents settled here for a while until shortly after you were born.

And now, just as you hoped for the little turtles, you are back.

"My name is Nayori." you said, offering your hand.

"Yes... mine is Tristan… Are you...Japanese?" I knew who you were, and I knew you weren't Japanese. You didn't even look it.

"No, not Japanese. Just fascinated by it. Well, at least my dad is. That's why he gave me a Japanese name. Funny because his first introduction of anything Japanese was not from Japan, but from Japanese immigrants in South America."

"Oh yeah, I’ve heard of Fujimori. And that there are plenty of Japanese immigrants in Brazil, Peru, Argentina... Makes sense because all the Japanese had to do was cross the Pacific Ocean and they’d be in South America."

"Nayori was the name of the receptionist in the hotel my dad stayed in when he was in Brazil. He was still single then, and he was there for work, and did not know a word of Portuguese." A short faint squawking of sea birds flying overhead gave you a pause, briefly looking up. Then you continued: "She is of Japanese descent, and was the only one in the hotel who spoke English. My dad says she was so friendly, courteous, and pretty, that from then on he thought her name would make a good name for her future daughter."

"Do you know what it means?"

"Uhm, that's one thing I didn't get to ask my dad. 'Friendly, courteous, and pretty', I suppose.” And you laugh a little. “Again, it's funny he should make a mental note of that name for a daughter. He hadn't even met my mom then, much less thinking of starting a family."

My eyes wander up and notice it's getting dark. You fold your arms, feeling the cold biting your skin.

A dog barks in the distance.

"Have dinner with me -- with me and my dog."

"Is that your dog barking?"

"Yes, she's too lazy to come out with me to the beach. But she's back there lazing around my porch. I think she’s hungry now. She's a golden retriever."

You look in the direction of the dog's sound. "What's her name?"

"Mocca."

"Mocca?"

"Yes. that's the name of my first dog when I was a kid. She was a mongrel but looked just like a retriever so I had always thought I’d get a retriever when I grow up… I guess I’ve grown up!"

"Here Mocca!" you yelled towards my dog.

Mocca gets up on his feet, wags her tail at you, barks, then runs down the porch, onto the sand and towards me and you.

"She's never ran up to me when I call out to her from the beach. She hates getting sand on her paws! I can't believe you made her do that so easily!"

"I guess Mocca and I are friends already." You pat Mocca on the back appreciatingly, and Mocca is very pleased.

"So how about dinner with me and your new friend Mocca?" I ask, laughing.

"Hahaha, you're jealous of your dog?”

“Nah, she’s a great and loyal dog. So… dinner? I’ll make sure we have some really hot soup.”

“Yes, dinner sounds good."

* * *

Dinner was to be a steaming hot crabmeat soup, spicy buttered shrimp, and broccoli flowers in oyster sauce.

As I was seating you to your chair, you exclaim, "I can't believe you cooked all this!" Your eyes are the look of amazement.

"I cook these dishes a lot, and they're actually pretty quick to prepare. I'm relieved you didn't fall into sleep waiting."

"Well, Mocca was perfect company, and I enjoyed browsing through your books seeing that there wasn't much on TV."

"Here, have some soup."

After a few sips of the still steaming crabmeat soup, you say: "You seem to have a good number of books on the Kennedys?"

"Ah, yes. I am fascinated with the Kennedys so my books on them seem to have grown into a collection over the years."

"You did have a couple of the Clintons too, but why the Kennedys? Neither of us was even alive during JFK's time."

"Yes, and yet until now people still talk about the Kennedy's. Like recently, Sen. Ted Kennedy was reported to have a brain tumor and people were heralding it as the end of an era. And it still counted for much when JFK's daughter, Caroline Kennedy, endorsed Barack Obama as the Democratic candidate."

"Still, you're talking about American politics, but what does that have to do with you? You're not American; you're not even Democrat!"

"If I were American, I'd be a Democrat. I don't even need to be an American to be a Democrat. All it takes is the Republican Bush Jr. to make the whole world want to be a Democrat!"

Laughing out loud. "You have a point."

"Like the shrimp so far?"

"Oh, I always like shrimp. It's my favorite."

Why did I like the sound of you saying your favorite? I guess I was starting to like knowing things that pleases you -- and I’m glad you liked my shrimp! I wondered what else it is that makes you happy. I wondered what brought you back here. Why were you so concerned for the turtles?

I wanted to hear more about you.

* * *

After enjoying a delectable dinner, we settled into my couch with wine and glasses in our hands. There is nothing to see now of outside from my living room's glass windows. Nothing, but darkness. But we could still hear the wind 's faint whistle and the gentle waves rushing to shore.

"Sorry I ran out of dessert, but I hope this fine wine will make up for it." I said.

"That's ok. Your cooking was fantastic and I am too full to have anything more. For causing me to over-eat, I forgive you with this wine."

For a moment there I thought everything seemed to pause, the sounds muted, as I noticed your eyes glint as our glasses reflected the yellow glow of the lamps. I wasn't just looking at you. I was seeing you, perhaps in greater splendor than I may not have fully noticed beforehand.

You are radiant, and truly beautiful.

And I haven't even had a sip of wine.

"Shall you pour me that wine now?" you asked, and everything moves again -- the sounds crisp again.

"Yes, sorry for taking so long. Here..." and I pour us both a portion of red wine.

"You seem to be suddenly in a daze or something… Indigestion?" you ask, grinning.

"No, sorry, hahaha, something just… occurred to me."

"What is it?"

“No, nothing really… just a random thought…”

“Come on, tell me what it is. I like random…”

"Okay… I just thought that I... can't believe we're here together in my living room, enjoying wine, after having had a great dinner...”

“Yeah, I really enjoyed our dinner and our conversations, of course…”

“Exactly, we’re like, having the time of our lives, talking, laughing, having fun, like…”

“Like?” You were looking at me like you have anticipated what I am going to say next.

“Like we were old friends..."

Then you stop -- looked at me thoughtfully, and then said, "We are old friends... aren't we, Tristan?"

"Wha...what do you mean?" Does she remember?

"I know you, Tristan. I mean, I've heard so much about you. You are the little kid from the neighbor's house my parents used to tell me about. I didn't realize that was you until I saw those pictures from your study while you were preparing dinner."

"Huh? But I..." How could she know?

"Your parents and my parents were good friends... Even then we were neighbors. Your family had always remained here, while my family later sold the house beside this and moved elsewhere because of my dad's work. But my parent's hearts had always belonged to this place.”

“I thought you didn’t…” It was too long ago!

“They remember you -- the little kid who liked to visit me when I was born. They said you always ran to our house so early in the morning to play with me; and you liked giving me kisses.” You smiled as you said this. “They said I always stopped crying when you were around, and I never wanted to go to sleep either when you were in the house."

"I can't believe..." You were too young!

"Me either. We had pictures of you; my parents kept them and talked to me about you while I was growing up, so I remember every inch of that picture, every fold, every scratch, and especially every memory about that little boy in the picture."

Squeezing your hands. "Nayori..."

"When my mom died last year, I felt so lonely; I didn't have other siblings, and my dad had died when I was 23. One time I was looking through old photographs and out came falling a faded picture of you. And then the stories kept coming back... and since then I had wanted to come back to this place... wondering if the place was still around, hoping that somebody familiar would still be next door... Somehow that thought made feel like I wasn’t alone…" Then you cried.

"Your house had mostly been empty, except for summers. The ones who bought it before rarely came. I missed going inside that house. Then I heard it was sold to a new owner a month ago... and then now you came..."

"I had to buy it back. I needed to feel home again... and this had always been home for me with all the memories it carried. I never considered any other place we stayed in after as home... they never did feel like home. But when I bought the house back, when I saw the beach... everything felt... home."

"I thought you wouldn't remember... I knew the name Nayori... I was hoping it was you... I can't believe you're here... with me… now…"

"It's been more than 25 years..."

"The turtles... they too can take that much long... and yet they still come back to where they were born..."

"I guess that's why I have had an affinity for turtles... I have always had a yearning for home..."

And then, holding you closer, I plant a kiss in your forehead and softly, I say, "You're home now, Nayori. You’re home now."

* * *

“I've been lonely for so long,
Trapped in the past,
I just can't seem to move on…

All I want to do is find a way back into love,
I can't make it through without a way back into love.”
~ “Way Back Into Love”, Soundtrack, Music & Lyrics

Picture-perfect

2008-06-21T10:52:00.001-07:00

My life is a dream, Alfred. The best dream anyone ever had.
~ Bruce Wayne, "Batman: The Animated Series."

Someday, while we’re visiting a park, or a beach, you’ll take a picture of me, and excitedly you’ll call out, “Tristan, look!”, while showing me your shot and you’ll say: “I like this picture of you.”

I’ll take a look, and I’ll say, “No, not that shot. My nose is too shiny.” Of course, I didn’t really think that; I always think your shots are great.

“It’s not shiny. It’s actually okay.” And you’ll laugh – that laughter that had always endeared me to you.

“How could you like that picture?” I ask.

“Because your smile is beautiful.”

I look at her. She looks at me.

“And I don’t mean just your lips,” she adds.

“What do you mean?” I say.

She looks at me. “It’s your eyes.”

Feigning a pout with a hint of amusement, “Hehe, don’t flatter me.”

“I mean it,” she says. And I believe her. She always means what she says.

While she continues to inspect the picture, I suggest, “How about the two of us in the picture, for a change?”

She thinks for a moment. “It’s hard to take pictures of us together; it’s a big camera, not a celfone.”

“I knew we should have brought a tripod…” Just then she spots an elevated flat surface that would do as a tripod. “Oh good, yes, put that down there and set the timer,” I said. She does, and quickly runs to where I am standing, and, posing, I nonchalantly put my arms around her.

We smile.

The camera clicks.

We walk towards the camera, to check out our shot, but I never take off my arm around her. She notices, but doesn’t say a word, and smiles a bit. She lifts the camera, my arms still on her shoulders, our bodies as close together than we’ve ever been -- and she shows me our picture.

“I love that picture,” I said.

“Me too,” she says, her face lit up, gazing at me. I’m smiling at her.

My arms still over her shoulder, she quietly settles her arm around my waist. Not another word is spoken. She leans her head on my shoulder. And we walk on, our strides in synch, quiet, and comfortable, and looking forward to more picture-perfect shots of the two of us together.

The Men’s Health All-Terrain Race

2008-06-21T10:51:00.001-07:00

First off, thanks to my brother Majar for agreeing to drive me so early in the morning to San Mateo, Rizal so I can get to the race.

June 15, 2008. I only started for sleep a little past midnight, and it was really forcing sleep because I am used to sleeping at 3AM. When I finally got up at 4:30AM, it was a relief from trying very hard to sleep.

This is to be my first race for the year. I signed up for the Market!Market! 5-Mile Marathon last May 18, but didn’t get to go because of that nasty storm Cosme. Anyway, waking up this early, and lacking in sleep, I had a thought that crazy runners more often than not still ask themselves once in a while: “What in the world am I thinking?”

But the urge to run is stronger than any such doubts. By 5AM I was ready to go, but my brother still wasn’t, and we got to leave only by 5:30AM. I needed to be at the race site by 6AM if I wanted to hear the stretching-and-exercise tips and the runthrough of the rules. The race actually begins at 6:30AM.

It was like a scene from The Amazing Race, with me reading the map and my brother doing the driving. None of us had purposely been to San Mateo, Rizal before, so this was really going to be a challenge. Could we make it on time?

We navigated through Sandoval Avenue, Mercedes Avenue, Pasig Boulevard Extension, Ortigas Avenue, E. Amang Rodriguez Avenue, Marcos Highway, J.P. Rizal Avenue, E. Rodriguez Avenue, got lost around here and eventually found ourselves in Bayan-Bayanan Avenue, then back to J.P. Rizal, on to San Mateo in Gen. Antonio Luna Avenue, then right to a tiny road with a sign that says “Timberland Heights”, and a few minutes of uphill roads with myriad signs pointing us in the direction of the race, and we were at the race site inside Timberland Heights.

Timecheck: 10 minutes before race starts.

There were plenty of runners already, and several bikers too, as there was also a bike race. I saw my friend Tricia, the Studio 23 sportscaster, and she was pleasantly surprised to see me. I was happy to see someone I knew, because none of those I invited were up to the challenge (hehe!). Unsurprisingly, she was also going to do the bike race after the trail run. I told her, “Yeah, I’m sure this is peanuts to you coz you’ve done the full Ironman.” She laughs, but says she had just come from Europe so she hasn’t really had much training. I’ll find out soon enough that she doesn’t really need all that much training.

All runners have assembled at the starting line. Many were wearing the black Men’s Health All-Terrain Race shirt we were given, like I was. I noticed others were wearing shirts of their choice, some wisely wearing white. I wondered why Men’s Health chose black for a shirt when it’s definitely going to be a scorching race (black absorbs heat). And they should have made it sleeveless too, I thought.

One minute til gunfire. My brother had to rush to the car to get me my chocolate bar. I realized I hadn’t taken anything. I even forgot to stretch! (though I did stretch at 5AM while waiting for my brother to get ready) Before you know it, the starting gun has been fired, and we were like a throng of bulls charging out of a cage.

OK, Tristan, you’re going to run a good race, you’re going to enjoy this, you’re going to make a respectable finish. You’re going to soak up the scenery, you’re going to have fun.

I was telling myself that as I was taking my first few strides. In a way, that was also my prayer.

OK, remember Tristan, you are not here to be the fastest runner, you’re not here to be faster than that guy or lady who just went past you. You are here with a plan, you will stick to your plan - which is to pace yourself. Don’t get pressured by the many others who seem to be zipping by, they will get tired too, and when you stick to your pace, you will catch up to them later and even zoom past them.

I have learned the pitfalls of trying to run as fast as the next person, or keeping pace with everybody at the start of the race. Everybody runs fast in the beginning. They’re all excited, they all have so much energy. And it’s tempting to join them because otherwise they make you look like you’re gonna end up last. But I have learned from my past races. When I have found my pace, I will catch up to them; because they will tire easily (especially if they’re not serious runners, hehe!), they will need to catch their breath too; and with my steady pace, they will find me sidling up to them later, and I will be running with a consistent pace, while they shall be starting and stopping every once in a while.

Thank you, God, for letting me run this race

It’s indeed the only race of it’s kind in the country, not that I’ve ran many, but that’s what Men’s Health Philippines say. And they may be right, because I have not heard of other trail runs in the country, and – the scenes here are definitely breathtaking.

This is Timberland Heights in San Mateo, Rizal. Timberland Heights is a community development of Filinvest Land. From what I saw, I think this place is a good place to live in. I can’t believe we have anything like this that is close to Manila. From up here, you could see all of the metropolis within your purview (that is, Quezon City, Ortigas, Makati, Fort, Roxas Blvd.) and I don’t think you could get this good a view even from Antipolo. Not only that, on the other side of the site, you could see mountains as far as the eye can see, like suddenly you’re as far away as possible from the city. (Disclosure: I am a real estate broker, but I am not selling this project, so this is not a sales pitch. Then again, if you want to buy in here, I can help. Hehe!)

As beautiful as the scenes were, so were our trail as varied. We ran on cemented roads, we ran on asphalt roads. We ran on cake muddy paths, we ran on dry rocky roads. We ran on red soil, we ran on gray gravel. We ran inside forest cover, we ran in open road. We ran in the sun, we ran in the shade. We ran on windless trails, we ran on paths with full bursts of wind. And that’s not mentioning the many permutations when you consider the slopes up or down, and the varied degrees of steepness of those slopes.

I trained on flat roads, so I was always praying for those in this race, and whenever I was on them, my run was a breeze. The 3 tiny hills in Legaspi Park certainly could not prepare me at all for the steepness of these slopes. Not being trained on them, my legs easily got tired in the climbs up. Careful not to injure my knees, I had to slow myself running downhill paths, even as it was tempting to get all the help from gravity.

The organizers promised 4 drinking stations distributed along the trail, and thank God they actually put up 5. Because the new Rush Fitness Drink was a major sponsor of the race, we helped ourselves to them in most of the 5 stops. (Note: Rush is just like Gatorade, only less sweet, which is good, and also cheaper by 11 pesos. Hehe, I am a grateful patron.)

I only trained on 10K runs, so I know this was going to be an extra challenge because this was a 12K course, not to mention that it was a trail run. I didn’t know what to expect as to how long I would finish the race, so I was relieved when I saw a sign that we had only 5K remaining, at a point in the race when I thankfully still wasn’t feeling tired yet or bored. The variety of the course certainly left no room for boredom. And I was feeling lucky as my feet, legs or knees have not shown signs of weariness.

At 3K to the finish line I think was the low point of the race when I saw many runners, myself included, already just walking. The last few kilometers of trail have certainly given our legs a beating, so it was understandable people were trying to rest their legs a bit by walking a few meters, before we all go for the assault of the next 2K.

The last 2K was the best, as finally there was wind greeting all of us on our way down the steepest run of the race. This was where I had to be most careful as I didn’t want to shock my knee joints with the force of these steep downhill run. Still it was so steep that gravity let me run faster than I know my knees were used to.

Finally, the last 1K, and how fitting that the panoramic view of the metropolis was what would welcome our eyes close to the finish line. I could now see the finish line not too far ahead, and I’m thinking, Woohoo! I’m almost done!

Near the finish line, I was looking for my brother who is supposed to take pictures of my finish. I see him, and he was looking elsewhere that I had to wave to him, and laughing that everybody had to see I was shamelessly asking for a photo. So instead of a dramatic shot, I must have been laughing in my picture.

I crossed the finish line, still smiling, and with a time of 1 hour 27 minutes. Not bad, I thought. My best time on a 10K run on a flat course is about 1 hour, or 6 mins/kilometer. So this being 12K, my time should be 1 hour 12 minutes, and so the extra 15 minutes could be explained by the nature of the trail. I’m optimistic that when I run this trail again next year, my time will be better.

The best part about reaching the finish line was the really ice-cold bottle of Rush that we were given. It felt really good. And having done my run according to plan, I’m glad my body was still in good shape and I was in good spirits. I can’t be more thankful.

Next up was the bike race. We lingered a bit til the bike race started, and then, with other things to do for the day, my brother and I left without waiting for the bike race to finish nor for the awarding of prizes. Maybe I won, maybe not (likely not, hehe); but finishing the race well and satisfied was the best prize I knew I already got.

Giant erasers on my feet

2008-06-21T10:48:00.000-07:00

"My running shoes have become giant erasers on my feet.
Every foot strike rubs away some memory
of a previous indiscretion, failure, hurt, pain...
Every successful mile releases me from the grip of the demons of failure.
Every starting line is another chance to prove
that my past will not determine my future."
~ John "The Penguin" Bingham

I had just come from a short Monday night run with two good friends at Legaspi Park. It was my first time to run at Legaspi Park as, usually, I’d run in Buendia to EDSA and back, or at Salcedo Park, or at the Ayala Triangle, or, so I don’t get bored, a combination of any of those routes.

I have always been a runner. When I was younger I’d run in the beach in the morning as we lived close to the beach (the secret to my eternal tan, hehe!). In college, I ran around the Acad Oval at U.P. Diliman, usually at close to midnight, with pauses and stretches infront of the Oblation. When I began working, and especially when I started to gain weight, I started to run around Makati to get back into shape.

2 years ago, and because my Royal Sinigang Mountaineers group (RSM, woohoo!) decided we’d be climbing Mt. Pulag, we took to running to prepare ourselves physically. That was the start of my doing more disciplined running, and taking it to the next level by joining a real marathon. We prepared by running in Makati, in Roxas Boulevard and even at the ULTRA tracks. And so it was in 2006 that with RSM, I ran my first 10K marathon with the 2^nd International Pasig River Marathon and another 10K with the 1^st Pinay In Action marathon, and then another 10K the year after in the 3^rd International Pasig River Marathon.

I had decided I would run a 42K marathon in 2007, and I did train for it, but only got myself as far as 15K during training, with that training consisting of 5AM runs at the Mall of Asia. And then I stopped abruptly when I injured my right leg, perhaps for pushing myself too hard.

So many other things have overtaken my goal of running the 42K, that it is almost a year after (and 9 lbs later), that I resurrect that goal of mine.

I have never fully understood the allure of running to me, why I do it, what I get from it, aside from the feel good endorphins and the obvious health benefits. I guess I like running for the chance that it allows me (1) to spend time alone, (2) to listen to my thoughts, and yes, (3) to not have thoughts for a change.

But I have never fully grasped what running truly means until I read that quote from John Bingham which sincerely speaks to me at this time in my life.

Maybe there is indeed something about every stride that takes you further away from memories you wish you could just forget. Maybe there is something about every bead of sweat that purges you of whatever cannot be shed with tears. Maybe there is something about every sore muscle or bruised feet that numbs whatever gnawing pain that resides in your heart -- a part of you that no amount of rest or icepack can reach to soothe or heal.

Whether you run 5K or 10K, 21K or 42K, it doesn’t matter. As long as you get the running started, you know you are getting somewhere, moving further from where you are, erasing the past away as the rubber burns, moving closer to the future as the muscles sore.

Closer to the future. The future may be uncertain, but knowing that you are moving closer to it -- that’s an optimistic thought.

I have often dreamed, of a far off place
Where a hero’s welcome, would be waiting for me
Where the crowds will cheer, when they see my face
And a voice keeps saying, this is where I’m meant to be...
--“Go the Distance”, Soundtrack, Hercules

Hello, young lovers

2008-06-21T10:45:00.000-07:00

Hello young lovers, whoever you are,

I hope your troubles are few.

All my good wishes go with you tonight,

I've been in love like you.

~ The King and I

Recently, I had a chance to work with a group of young leaders aged between 14 to 17 years old. It was great being around the young. They made me feel young (because of their infectious energy) and at the same time made me self-consciously old (because they use po on you, and they do look like little kids to me, even if they were already mostly college bound).

I was having an amusing time observing the “kids”. One boy, his name is Jom, and a girl, named Elie, I thought looked good together. (Hehe, I hope none of them gets to read this.) Jom is younger as he was a highschool junior, and Elie was already (I think) an incoming college freshman. Still they looked like they’d make a good pair. I don’t know if I noticed their chemistry already before Jom could realize he actually liked Elie. They had some activities where they unavoidably had to get close physically (it was a teambuilding), and I noticed (or maybe I projected) that Jom was relishing the closeness with Elie. He seemed to be enjoying it too much, and Elie was either oblivious, or trying not to appear too conscious. When they weren’t looking, I’d smile at the sight of them. Could I be seeing the birth of young love? I thought to myself. How cute, right? Heehee!

And then I thought how nice to experience that again, falling in love, in the freshest, most innocent manner that the young discover love to be, even if through their rose-colored glasses. Of course, being grown, I know that love isn’t just all that fresh and innocent anymore, and it takes more than magic, in fact, it isn’t magic! (ok, I am jaded), yet I realized that however cynical we can be, we still long for that first taste of love that is promising, that for a little while at least you believe, that it will actually last forever. (Ok, I am only sounding jaded for literary effect. Hehe!)

I don’t know if Elie and Jom will actually hit it off from thereon, though I did notice Jom’s persistence at getting Elie’s number at the end of the session. If he’s that persistent, then maybe something sweet shall be borne of this.

I wish them well.

Be brave, young lovers, and follow your star,

Be brave and faithful and true,

Cling very close to each other tonight.

I've been in love like you.

Taxi Stories

2008-05-19T12:32:00.000-07:00

It used to be that when I’d ride a taxi, I was never the type who’d chat up the driver. I usually kept to myself, not knowing what to speak with the taxi driver about, and I admit, maybe not even interested at all what their thoughts are about anything.

But I have changed, and with that came more openness to talk to the people we often take for granted, and that included security guards, fast food servers, and yes, taxi drivers. (I do ride the taxi a lot, so I have more than a couple of stories to share about them.)

It is in speaking to them did I realize that there is much to learn about them, and that a taxi ride with a conversation is way more rewarding than a silent one. Admittedly the conversations and experiences with taxi drivers are not always pleasant, so in this Taxi Stories series, I endeavor to relate a balance of both.

Taxi Story #1: No More Taxis?

I was riding the taxi today and I heard again over the radio at DZMM about how fast oil prices have been rising these past weeks. Maybe it was about 2-3 years ago when oil prices were also skyrocketing that everytime I’d ride a taxi and ask them about business, they’d complain about how bad it is, how hard it is for them to hit their “boundary”. For taxi operators, they say many of them have already decided not to continue with their franchises by the coming year as it has become impossible for the operation to be profitable.

I remember those conversations today and realize, Hey I still see a lot of taxis around! Looks like they never quit the business like they said they would. I think one reason for this is that there came out a solution to the rising oil prices – and that was the LPG. If I am not mistaken, it has only been a little over a year since it became fashionable for taxis to convert to run on LPG, and so, being really affordable, it gave these taxi drivers and operators some hope of actually earning.

Taxi Story #2: Taxis and Call Centers

It was around March this year, when I had this conversation with the taxi driver on my usual past midnight, 150-peso taxi fare, 30-minute ride from limbo to dela Rosa.

I wasn’t in good spirits then, but I struggled to change my mood a bit, and decided to get over myself and talk to the taxi driver. Usually, at this wee hour, I’d just sit there quietly wait the ride away. I decided to chat up the driver, something I have not done in a long time. I began with a question in politics which the driver refused to give an opinion on, so we moved to the more neutral topic of his taxi business, how much he’s making, how hard it is to do the business.

He said it used to be really bad, especially at odd hours like this, but nowadays he is thankful that with the growth of call centers, it has given them business at night. Before the call centers, he said that only drunken men were their usual passengers at those hours. At least now, he said, call center employees coming to and from work allow them to hit their “boundary”.

While I have noticed that with the sprouting of call centers also have seen the opening of 24-hour fastfood stores and shops around their offices, I have never thought about how it has affected the taxi business, so when the taxi driver said it, it was quite a revelation for me. I learned something new tonight, I thought. When I got to my place, I promptly paid the driver and wished him the best.

Taxi Story #3: Refusal to Convey, and other taxi woes

The worst place and time to get a taxi is in Makati around the Glorietta area on a Friday, and especially around the rush hour. These taxi drivers are so picky. You frantically flag them down, they slow down to hear you speak your destination, and if it’s anywhere outside Makati, they’d make an excuse that they’re actually picking up someone already or that they’re hungry and would like to eat. The more honest ones would actually say they don’t want to go too far from Makati.

They know that under the law, they can’t refuse passengers, and yet they do it anyway. Passengers on the other hand feel helpless about it. And so it is such a relief, that because of these taxis’ notoriety, the Makati government and the Ayala Group installed security guards and taxi stands where people can line up to get a taxi and where, before a passenger gets on a taxi, the security guard hands them a blank “Affidavit of Complaint” form with only the taxi’s plate number written on it. This is for the passenger to keep and use should the taxi driver refuse the passenger for any reason. The passenger can then submit the form to the Department of Transportation and Communication or DOTC so that the driver/taxi operator can be penalized for the offense. In fact, the form can also be used for any of these other punishable offenses:

Fast Meter (Mabilis na Metro)
Overcharging (Sobrang Singil)
Refusal to Convey (Tumangging Magsakay)
Arrogant Driver or Conductor
Colorum or No Franchise
Contractual Conveyance (Pangongontrata)
Cutting Trip
Smoke Belching

BTW, this is applicable not only to taxis, but also to jeepneys, buses and other public transportation. And you don’t need this complaint form so you can lodge a complaint. Just call the DOTC Hotline at 7890 or the DOTC Action Center at 727-1710, making sure you have the following information: Taxi Name, Nature of Complaint, and at the very minimum, the Plate Number. If you can get the taxi driver’s name, that would be good too.

Other passengers who really have an axe to grind against these taxi drivers however do not bother to lodge complaints with DOTC. Why? Because these complaints need a personal appearance by the complainant at a “hearing” called by DOTC once the complaint is in process. Hopefully we would go the way of those who see through their complaints, making sure the offending driver is punished or reprimanded.

Taxi Story #4: Death and Taxis

Like any good passenger, I would promptly wear the seatbelt as soon as I get seated in a car, and especially in a taxi. I was having a hard time putting the seatbelt on in one taxi, and then the taxi driver said, OK lang, wala namang pulis ngayon eh. That made me laugh. I said, Di naman po ako nagsi-seatbelt para sa pulis, kundi para sa safety.

I think that experience is significant because it wasn’t the only time I heard something like that from a taxi driver whenever I am unable to put on their seatbelts which, very often, are broken.

I wonder if many of these taxi drivers really know or appreciate what seatbelts are for. There was a time when seatbelt use was strictly checked by traffic policemen (albeit only implemented briefly). I suppose that explains why taxi drivers were more concerned about whether we’d get caught by the police (they’d hate to have to pay the cops) rather than if we were being safe in our journey.

I ask the question again: Do our taxi drivers really know the importance of seatbelts for safety? I ask again because some taxis only have a string for a seatbelt, that is, without the tightening mechanism that gets triggered when the belt is pulled suddenly. Even jeepneys are required to have seatbelts in the front seats, and I noticed, theirs too, if they had any at all, were just loose belts that have more tendency of choking you to death first before you even die from a hard impact. It’s all for show. When seatbelts are broken, taxi drivers would even say “Hawakan mo na lang”, meaning to say, Hold it just for show in case a policeman checks so we don’t get caught.

I guess to these drivers, the more frightening thiefs are the ubiquitous cops out to make a buck, instead of that other one that comes like a thief in the night.

*More from this series soon…

Singing in the Rain

2008-05-16T11:33:00.000-07:00

“I’m singing in the rain,
Just singing in the rain…
What a glorious feeling,
I’m happy again…”

I was listening to that song today, the refreshing new version of Jamie Cullum. And I thought, what a happy melody, appropriate for these rainy times. There’s supposed to be a storm causing it, but the rain is not the hint of a storm at all as it is quite pleasant, very light, and the raindrops a slow and joyful trickle.

This is the rain I like, the type I won’t mind going out into. Playing in the rain as a child in Dagupan is always the best memory, but growing up, I have discovered that rain is next best in Baguio as the lovely drizzles, combined with the pine scents and scenes, and cool mountain air are just a peaceful experience. I think this perfect experience can be had while inside John Hay among it’s mighty pines at the walking trail, or wherever else in Baguio you may still find a profusion of pine trees and quiet.

I’ve had other memorable experiences in the rain, like the surreal time I had walking, shirtless, near the beach in Rio de Janeiro, with this really heavy rain – not unwelcomely so, because to me it felt like all of life’s blessings raining down on me, and I couldn’t help but be grateful. Surreal because, how many times can you earn the right to casually tell a friend “Oh, by the way, I walked in the rain today along Copacabana”? :)

Having met rain many times in climbing up mountains I have realized that the mountain too is a great place to be caught in it. Admittedly you have to be careful about flashfloods, but absent that threat, rain is more wonderful an adventure the further above sea level you are. Thankfully I have not been once caught in a storm while in a mountain, but there was always rain, and they were especially pleasant and welcome, as they freshened us up from the heat and sweat of an arduous climb.

Mountain rain seems to have a character of their own. I remember how my friend Jeosen eloquently described the “light rain” we had when we went to Mt. Tayak in Laguna more than 2 years ago. She said: “I call it "light rain" because it was a little like "ambon" but the weather was sunny, and you could see the droplets actually floating down to earth, rather than falling. And when it touched you, it was like a soft sweet kiss rather than a cold wet droplet of water. That "light rain" is the most beautiful rain I've ever seen in my life.”

If you hadn’t done so in a while, go out in the rain today --- and claim that soft sweet kiss. :)

Kim Rae Won

2008-05-14T11:53:00.000-07:00

That’s his name, the Korean telenovela actor I’m supposed to look like. It’s funny I have to write about it now as it seems like a self-promotion. But really, I have been ignoring such comments for so long. I think the first person who told me I looked like him was either my friend Ceejay (who’s into all those Asian telenovelas) or my former boardmate, a guy mind you, who thinks I look like the actor from Attic Cat. (Every time I’d come home he’d say “O, kumusta ang shooting?” and then I’d just manage a smile.) This was I think about 3 years ago. Ceejay told me of my resemblance one time in the car when from her vantage point she saw an angle of me that did look like this star.

Fast forward to 2008. About 3 weeks ago, I had a Singaporean client who said that she just saw “Love Story in Harvard” and she thought I looked like the actor there. “Love Story in Harvard” is also a Koreanovela, starring the same actor. I know it from Karina, who asked me to watch all of it while she was busy reviewing for her boards. Pretty much by this time I already knew how to respond to such comments, and I was able to act the part, even kidding my client that that’s the reason I am scared to go to Korea, i.e., I’m too afraid to be mobbed by adoring Korean fans. Hehehe. See, that still gives me a laugh when I say that.

What got me to finally write this piece is that, just over a week ago, I had a Korean client, and I almost thought I saw the comment coming when she said “You know you look like a famous Korean actor.” That was it! A real confirmation from a real Korean! People are not just conjuring the resemblance, maybe there is a real resemblance if this Korean says so! So that comment really made my day and gave me more license I suppose to share the funny anecdote to friends. The Korean even added the observation that “Filipino men are handsome” (really), and I thought maybe she was being general because she was too shy to tell me upfront that I was handsome. But we all know what she meant, right? Hehehe. Ok, I have stretched this topic for too long. Time to put my ego back to normal size. :) But I think my smile will stay as wide as possible for a while.

~~~~~~~

Notes from the author:
(1) I am going to keep my blog posts also in my Multiply site: http://notnot0128.multiply.com.

(2) OK, so this first post after what, 2 years, is quite lighthearted, almost superficial... and it's what I would like my future posts to be... lighthearted, that is. I have a couple more posts already lined up, so hopefully this is the start of a more healthy and active posting from me, just like I said I would at the homepage.

3/23/2006: I have dreamed of you so much...

2006-03-22T23:49:00.000-08:00

...that you are no longer real.

Is there still time for me to reach your breathing body,
to kiss your mouth
and make your dear voice come alive again?

I have dreamed of you so much that my arms,
grown used to being crossed on my chest as I hugged your shadow,
would perhaps not bend to the shape of your body.
For faced with the real form of what has haunted me
and governed me for so many days and years,
I would surely become a shadow.

O scales of feeling.

I have dreamed of you so much
that surely there is no more time for me to wake up.
I sleep on my feet
prey to all the forms of life and love,
and you, the only one who counts for me today,
I can no more touch your face and lips
than touch the lips and face of some passerby.

I have dreamed of you so much,
have walked so much,
talked so much,
slept so much with your phantom,
that perhaps the only thing left for me is to become

a phantom among phantoms,
a shadow a hundred times more shadow
than the shadow the moves
and goes on moving,

brightly,

over the sundial of your life.

~ Robert Desnos ~

NB: One my favorite poems discovered in Humanities class. The message is as true then as it is now. (siya, siya, torpe na kung torpe, hehehe). But such is the test of a classic, be it poetry or art. The truth it speaks of survives the passing of time.

1/23/2006: How about you...?

2006-01-24T01:48:00.000-08:00

01. Bought everyone in the pub a drink
02. Swam with dolphins
03. Climbed a mountain
04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
05. Been inside the Great Pyramid
06. Held a tarantula
07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. Said ‘I love you’ and meant it
09. Hugged a tree
10. Done a striptease
11. Bungee jumped (comment: does the human pendulum count?)
12. Visited Paris (comment: only its likeness, in Vegas. :))
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Stayed up all night long, and watched the sunrise (comment: on the way up the mountain, yes.)
15. Seen the Northern Lights
16. Gone to a huge sports game
17. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
18. Grown and eaten your own vegetables (comment: I grew mongo, patola, and ampalaya when I was young.)
19. Touched an iceberg
20. Slept under the stars
21. Changed a baby’s diaper
22. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
23. Watched a meteor shower
24. Gotten drunk on champagne (comment: only nearly)
25. Given more than you can afford to charity
26. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
27. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment (comment: Right on the face of a stupid superior. I extricated myself by saying I just had a funny thought.)
28. Had a food fight
29. Bet on a winning horse
30. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
31. Asked out a stranger
32. Had a snowball fight
33. Photocopied your bottom on the office photocopier (comment: They ran out of paper, e. Hehehe.)
34. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can (comment: Perhaps during military training?)
35. Held a lamb
36. Enacted a favorite fantasy
37. Taken a midnight skinny dip (comment: Only one in mid-afternoon sun. Hehehe.)
38. Taken an ice cold bath/shower (comment: Oh yes, in Baguio, Sagada, Batad, and Chicago!)
39. Had a meaningful conversation with a beggar
40. Seen a total eclipse
41. Ridden a roller coaster (comment: Six Flags! Woohoo!)
42. Hit a home run
43. Fit three weeks miraculously into three days
44. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking (comment: Sit or Sing? :) )
45. Adopted an accent for an entire day
46. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
47. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
48. Had two hard drives for your computer
49. Visited all 50 states
50. Loved your job for all accounts
51. Taken care of someone who was shit faced
52. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
53. Had amazing friends
54. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
55. Watched wild whales
56. Stolen a sign
57. Backpacked in Europe
58. Taken a road-trip
59. Rock climbing
60. Lied to foreign government’s official in that country to avoid notice
61. Midnight walk on the beach
62. Sky diving
63. Visited Ireland
64. Been heartbroken longer then you were actually in love
65. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger’s table and had a meal with them
66. Visited Japan (comment: Heheh, I don't want to count a stopover as a visit.)
67. Bench-pressed your own weight
68. Milked a cow
69. Alphabetized your records
70. Pretended to be a superhero
71. Sung karaoke
72. Lounged around in bed all day
73. Posed nude in front of strangers (comment: Damn Annual PE!)
74. Scuba diving
75. Got it on to "Let’s Get It On" by Marvin Gaye
76. Kissed in the rain
77. Played in the mud
78. Played in the rain
79. Gone to a drive-in theatre
80. Done something you should regret, but don’t regret it
81. Visited the Great Wall of China
82. Discovered that someone who’s not supposed to know about your blog has discovered your blog
83. Dropped Windows in favor of something better
84. Started a business
85. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken
86. Toured ancient sites
87. Taken a martial arts class
88. Sword fought for the honor of a woman.
89. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
90. Gotten married
91. Been in a movie
92. Crashed a party
93. Loved someone you shouldn’t have
94. Kissed someone so passionately it made them dizzy
95. Gotten divorced
96. Had sex at the office
97. Lied (comment: My answer in #96 is a lie. :P Kala nyo ha.)
97. (the real 97) Gone without food for 5 days
98. Made cookies from scratch
99. Won first prize in a costume contest
100. Ridden a gondola in Venice
101. Gotten a tattoo
102. Found that the texture of some materials can turn you on
103. Rafted the Snake River
104. Been on television news programs as an "expert"
105. Got flowers for no reason
107. Got so drunk you don’t remember anything
108. Been addicted to some form of illegal drug
109. Performed on stage
110. Been to Las Vegas
111. Recorded music
112. Eaten shark
113. Had a one-night-stand
114. Gone to Thailand
115. Seen Moulin Rouge
116. Bought a house
117. Been in a combat zone
118. Buried one/both of your parents
120. Been on a cruise ship
121. Spoken more than one language fluently
122. Gotten into a fight while attempting to defend someone
123. Bounced a check
124. Performed in Rocky Horror
125. Read - and understood - your credit report
126. Raised children
127. Recently bought and played with a favorite childhood toy
128. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
129. Created and named your own constellation of stars
130. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
131. Found out something significant that your ancestors did
132. Called or written your Congressperson
133. Packed up and moved to another city to just start over
134. …more than once?
135. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge (comment: I knew I should have walked it!)
136. Sang loudly in the car, and didn’t stop when you knew someone was looking (comment: With my friend Don, while in San Diego.)
137. Had an abortion, or your female partner did
138. Had plastic surgery
139. Survived an accident that you shouldn’t have survived
140. Wrote articles for a large publication
141. Lost over 100 pounds
142. Held someone while they were having a flashback
143. Piloted an airplane
144. Petted a stingray
145. Broken someone’s heart
146. Helped an animal give birth
147. Been fired or laid off from a job
148. Won money on a T.V. game show
149. Broken a bone (comment: Does a slipdisc count? Or a dislocated shoulder?)
150. Killed a human being
151. Gone on an African photo safari
152. Ridden a motorcycle
153. Driven any land vehicle at a speed of 100mph or faster? (comment: And I don't even have a license!)
154. Had a body part of yours below the neck pierced
155. Fired a rifle, shotgun or pistol
156. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
157. Ridden a horse
158. Had major surgery.
159. Had sex on a moving train
160. Had a snake as a pet
161. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
162. Slept through an entire flight: take, landing, during
163. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours
164. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states
165. Visited all 7 continents
166. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
167. Eaten kangaroo meat
168. Fallen in love at an ancient Mayan burial ground
170. Eaten sushi (comment: And never again.)
171. Had your picture in the newspaper
172. Had 2 (or more) healthy romantic relationships for over a year in your lifetime
173. Changed someone’s mind about something you care deeply about
174. Gotten someone fired for his or her actions
175. Gone back to school
176. Parasailed
177. Changed your name
178. Petted a cockroach
179. Eaten fried green tomatoes
180. Read The Iliad
181. Selected one "important" author whom you missed in school, and read him/her
182. Dined in a restaurant and stolen silverware, plates, cups because your apartment needed them
183. …and gotten 86'ed from the restaurant because you did it so many times, they figured out it was you
184. Taught yourself an art from scratch
185. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
186. Apologized to someone years after inflicting the hurt
187. Skipped all your school reunions
188. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
189. Been elected to public office
190. Written your own computer language
191. Thought to yourself that you’re living your dream
192. Had to put someone you love into hospice care
193. Built your own PC from parts
194. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn’t know you.
195. Had a booth at a street fair
196. Dyed your hair
197: Been a DJ
198: Found out someone was going to dump you via LiveJournal
199: Written your own role playing game
200: Lost your Best Friend for reasons of death
201: Fallen in love over the internet
202: Sung in a Barbers’ Shop Quartet
203: Eaten a live animal
204: Been able to communicate in a language you barely learnt barely three days earlier.
205: Memorized words from all Disney movies like Aladdin, Lion king etc; furthermore, dialogues from Friends, Smallville and Star Trek
206: Be able to relate to every song that you ever listen.

5/15/2005: Chicago is the scent of chocolates...

2005-05-15T23:31:00.000-07:00

Chicago is the scent of chocolates
And the excitement over its mystery
Whereof do such lovely scents originate?
Wherefore do its mysteries ever end?

And it is the river that flows serenely
It is wide-eyed tourists that it cradles along
As they marvel at its grandness, its brilliance, its majesty

It is the playful wind that blows relentlessly
It is temperatures in Celsius and Fahrenheit both awry
It is hair dissheveled and umbrellas topsy turvy
Easily we get it, it’s the Windy City

Chicago is the scent of chocolates
Inciting every sensation to relive every memory
It is sweet, serene, and does not leave ones senses in haste
So is the wanderer who’s briefly kissed its sweet sweet lips of chocolate

4/14/2005: The most comfortable place...

2005-04-14T21:26:00.000-07:00

... for anyone is within themselves, that I've always believed. You must be most at ease in your aloneness. It should be the friendliest, most nurturing place to be --- for when the world proves too harsh, people too untrustworthy -- at least you have a place you can always go back to. You are your own sanctuary. When you have nothing else, YOU are always who you are left with. If you can't stand that, what can you stand? If you are at peace with yourself, comfortable in your own skin, that gives you courage to take on just about anything in the world.

9/30/2004: September, is...

2004-09-30T13:49:00.000-07:00

...to me, among the 12 months, the most symbolic. The word origin itself means a partition, or that which marks a change, as in the changing of the seasons that occurs at this month, from summer to fall. It is at this time that the warmth of summer finally give way to the cool breeze of autumn, the shedding of what once were bright leaves of green now turned fiery red, orange or brown. It portends that indeed winter is not far behind. It was in September that love once came to visit. It was in September that death once made it’s claim. Two co-workers have bade their goodbye yesterday, hopefully moving on to greater things. One precious life made earth it’s home, 3 months too soon, delighting the world with its innocence and fragility, but no more than 11 days it chose to come back to heaven, leaving us longing, the parents most of all in heartbreaking tears. Yesterday, Jayden’s body was buried in earth but his spirit ‘s presence firmly alive in our memory. September is not a time of farewells or heartbreaks or death. On the contrary, it is a time of renewal, of remembering, and of looking forward to the promise of better, happier seasons.

9/04/2004: I believe in the power of choice...

2004-09-04T01:23:00.000-07:00

The difference between a happy man and a sad regretful man is that one of them made a great choice somewhere. One of them knew the perfect use of one’s power to choose. There is a new age theory about parallel universes where in each universe exists an aspect of us, each aspect a product of all the possibilities of ourselves, our choices. Example, in a major decision point where the options are endless, there is one universe where an aspect of ourselves is living out the consequences/benefits of option 1; in another we live out the consequences of option 2; another of option 3; up to option infinity. It then becomes up to us to decide whether this universe that we know of is the universe where we realize that best version of ourselves.

9/01/2004: Let’s call him Tito Ponsing...

2004-09-01T22:09:00.000-07:00

Tito Ponsing is 60ish, but his ideas of love and romance continue to be true and relevant to those of our age who remain befuddled on the subject. Over drinks, he generously shares his thoughts, about women, the importance of finding someone you truly passionately would love for the rest of your life. He comes across as a Casanova, but who happens to also know that it is still important to come home to the one you love. He says the secret to a woman’s true affections is a man’s full honesty. The ladies overhearing unanimously agree. Tito Ponsing imparted a lot of brilliant gems that night. He is eloquent, almost peotic when he rolls the words from his mouth, like Cyrano de Bergerac giving his sons a lesson or two on love or women, that which he knows best, in his characteristic fashion. I wish I had a pen at the time to write them all down and maybe make a book of it. But it’s fun, to have someone like him, to have him for a Tito and be the wise one to guide us through the tricky paths of romance. Here is a man who’s seen it all, a man who has figured out her woman’s secret, and knows that which is always important. The secret, it turns out, is no secret at all.

8/21/2004: Olympic fever...

2004-08-21T20:07:00.000-07:00

I sure have it. The games are fiercely intense, exciting, riveting, that always in the middle of watching I wish I were also good in some sport, and be Olympic material. Winning a gold is a tall order for these athletes. Just making the Olympics already is. But what of us who can never make these games, what grand challenge is there for us to conquer? Mine, ours all, may be… this life. I want to do this right. My Olympic gold would be knowing, after all this is over, that I did it right.

8/18/2004: It's amazing how gems of wisdom...

2004-08-18T03:20:00.000-07:00

...can be found in unlikely places, or unlikely sources, at unexpected times, but you only recognize it when you are ready to take it, or when the question is already in your head, waiting, to be answered. I used the word “recognize” – for really, or they say, wisdom, or lessons we learn are things we already know (look up “anamnesis” in google), and this life is simply an exercise in remembering what we already know.

8/12/2004: The kare-kare was a success...

2004-08-12T08:42:00.000-07:00

But that’s just kare-kare. Cooking for me had always been easy. How I wish other things in life could be perfected as easily. Or require less skill. Like finding love, and keeping it. Or losing it, but knowing how to say goodbye, or to move on. Or to forget. Pablo Neruda, an old friend, knew this when he said, "Love is so short. Forgetting is so long."

7/30/2004: I feel like Jerry Maguire now...

2004-07-30T13:55:00.000-07:00

...singing in his car the Free Falling song (...now I’m free...free fallin’…). All he ever did was be true to himself, didn’t know how it’d turn out, how it’ll be accepted, his attempt to change the culture of his company. Now he’s been shoved off the building, and is in a mightily long free fall. In a way he feels liberated, because anything is possible now – perhaps nothing, perhaps a company of his own reflective of his new philosophy -- and the devotion of a pretty lady telling him he had her at hello.

7/18/2004: Will you jump off a plane...

2004-07-18T11:49:00.000-07:00

...if you knew for certain you were going to fall flat and hard on the ground? Surely you wouldn't. You would rather just know that one of 2 things can happen: (1) you will fall flat and hard on the ground, very fatal; or (2) the parachute will launch, cooperate, and give you a safe landing, very fortunate.

Either way it is going to give you about 60 seconds of amazing free fall, exhilirating views and a liberating sense of release. Release! That's what we need most of all. And so you would choose to jump into the sky's infinite unknown, because whether you end up falling fatally hard or flying like you had your own wings, either way you have learned to embrace the truth.

7/13/2004: Magno was driven to the west..

2004-07-13T20:58:00.000-07:00

...in search of greener pastures, but what he found was untilled soil which he would toil and make green under the scorching California sun, which would break his back, but not his spirit. What gives him respite from his daily realities is the promise of love from a girl named Clarabelle, a tall blonde girl he has not met but found only through a lonely hearts magazine. Since then he has pined for her and written to her Cyrano de Bergerac style through his college educated friend’s literary generosity. But Clarabelle would turn out to be nothing more than a leech, playing upon Magno’s naivete and kindness, taking as much as she could take without giving Magno the love he had been hoping for. The Romance of Magno Rubio is as much about Magno’s romantic illusions with Clarabelle as it is about the blind flirtations that dreamy Filipinos have with America. Trusting in the honesty of love, of supposed friendship, and a shared history – Magno Rubio “Fili-Pinoy, 4 feet 6 inches tall, dark as a coconut ball” finds that he is given nothing, nay even a paltry tip. [The Romance of Magno Rubio is a play based on Carlos Bulosan’s short story. The show’s last run was July 11, 2004 at the Victory Garden’s Theater in Chicago.]

7/11/2004: What does it profit a Spiderman...

2004-07-11T19:01:00.000-07:00

...if he saves the whole world but loses his love? Even a superhero needs to be sustained by the love of his life. To carry the weight of the world by yourself, and not have anyone to at least share in your frustrations over the evil, hardships, and the demands of having to always play invincible superhero to the world that has come to always expect it from you, even though sometimes they could turn against you -- to have to deal with that and not have your passionate Mary Jane by your side, your spidey suit becomes a choking, limiting burden. While we know our superhero can always be counted on to save the day, every day the superhero asks himself: ‘Who will save me from myself?’.

7/7/2004: New York is like...

2004-07-07T14:08:00.000-07:00

...a 3-day love affair that will forever haunt your fondest memories. In that brief affair, you learn so much about her and yet not be able to truly know her in full. In the little that you see you are helplessly hooked -- and are infinitely intrigued to see so much more, to wander in her every nook, to wonder about her uniqueness, her every move, her every mood. The affair has ended and yet your thoughts always find itself in her. You want to go back. You don’t want to leave. You want to stay.

New York is a slippery slope from which you fall and fall deep, an affliction from which you never recover, an affair to endlessly relive and remember…

6/24/2004: Moving out, and moving down.

2004-06-24T16:16:00.000-07:00

It was my first time to ever speak to an apartment, to give thanks, to say goodbye. Perhaps I was bordering on crazy, but that is what happens to you when you have to let go of something that represents the great things you want for yourself: a good single life in the perfect bachelor's pad on prime property with the best view of an amazing city. I am to get a roommate soon so I had to move to a 2-bedroom apartment. Unfortunately, the only availble unit was 11 floors below. It was tough -- to have to uproot yourself again from a place that's has only lately felt home when you've just lately been uprooted from the home that's always been home. But some things happen that give you some perspective. I was on the elevator with a lady and a man (I had with me in a cart tons of my things to bring to my new apartment). As soon as I got in, the lady with some excitement exclaimed, "Oh you're moving up!". But with a dejected tone I said, "Actually, I'm moving down." All she could say was "Oh I see." Then I had to tell her and the man why I had to move down. And then the man, who probably had some talent in saying the right things (or who, by some grand design had to tell me exactly what I needed to hear), offered this thought, "Well... at least you're still in the same building."

6/16/2004: Believe me when I say...

2004-06-16T21:13:00.000-07:00

...that the hardest decisions have the biggest possibility of turning out to best decisions you will ever have to make. I speak from experience, so far counting 2 difficult decisions to be the best I've ever made. Of course when you are at the point when you have to make the decision it is not readily apparent that they will be your best, or which choice is most favorable. But they will turn out to be. That is if you have your heart in the right place when you put your finger to your choice. It takes a leap of faith to trust yourself to make the right choice. The difficult decisions are the most life-altering, sometimes the most heartbreaking, yet ultimately the most rewarding. But it takes a while before they reveal themselves to be perfect choices. There will just be that one day when you are walking along the street or ironing your clothes or brushing your teeth that it will suddenly occur to you, "I was right to make that choice." And then you heave a sigh of relief.

6/12/2004: I’m going to New York...

2004-06-12T07:35:00.000-07:00

To see the ‘true America’, as I was advised. But mostly, I’m going there for the fireworks. I hear it is awesome, especially on July 4th celebrations. Of course, also to see a highschool classmate, and maybe also an old classmate from Chicago (who is from Atlanta but now in New York). When someone asked why I was going, I jokingly said I was going to meet someone on top of the Empire State Building. Up until I said it I did not remember that yeah, the Empire State Building is in New York. Having been immortalized in so many movies as the place to meet one’s soulmate, it occurred to me --- what if I did go up there, will I meet her there? How foolish, I thought, because the only one I ever want to meet is nowhere in this continent, but across the Pacific, many miles away. And there is no way she will happen to be there. She is in the place I call home, and she doesn’t know that I utter her name 3 times into the lonely Chicago sky every night, yes, until now, more than a year after we met. I had meant to say goodbye, but something always happens that prevent me from doing so. Truth is everytime I’ve psyched myself up into saying goodbye, that I can actually do it, I see her and then all my feigned bravery crumbles too easily. I once told a friend that my hesitation in putting an end to it is that I feel it is such a waste. How, I said, can there be someone who could make you so happy just by “being” and yet not be able to be with that person, to bask some more in the joy that she gives? If only she knew, there is no place I’d rather be than beside her – not New York, the Empire State, or Chicago – but where she will always be close.

6/09/2004: What a relief when you finally realize...

2004-06-09T13:32:00.000-07:00

...that you’ve been wrong. Because then the only way to go is the right way. The moment you recognize the wrong decisions, wrong relationships, wrong aspirations, wrong habits, and wrong deeds – you can finally walk away from it. It becomes liberating. And then you can move on and wait for the right things - the next opportunity to make a good decision, the next chance to choose the right person, the perfect aspiration, the better habit, the kinder deed. Maybe along the way you can get detoured back to the wrong things, but when at the moment of discovery of your mistakes you come to a vivid and firm realization how wrong it all has been, you will have the clarity of perspective and strength of conviction to say, “That’s it, I’m moving on.”

6/05/2004: Something I wrote...

2004-06-09T13:31:00.000-07:00

...while I was en route to the US:

What was I thinking, to bring myself into this strange place, all on my own and for so very long? Why leave behind the comfort and familiarity of family and friends? Observing the American flight attendants, I was trying to look for any warmth, a sign of welcome, but there was none. Somehow I was looking for something to ease my anxiety. I needed to know things will be well on this one year US assignment. Genuine smiles would have been nice but they aren’t to be found today.

Looking out my window, I see rocky jagged mountains capped in cold unfriendly snow. It reminds me what this is I bring myself into. Who will survive such frigid conditions – more so if that would extend to the kind of reception you will receive in a strange land?

Then I realize how truly great a sacrifice it is for many Filipinos to uproot themselves from the Philippines and establish new roots in this land of the free. New land, new home, new faces, unfamiliar faces, foreign culture, all by yourself, away from the place you’ve called home since your birth. If someone such as me can think this fearful thoughts on a relatively short stay in the US, what more they who have chosen to make this their home and had bought no return tickets back?

4/19/2004: Puerto Galera hasn't lost its charm...

2004-06-09T13:25:00.001-07:00

...but with the myriad people going there all at one time, it's hard to enjoy the place. I guess the best time to see it is during off season -- also the cheapest time. Was there with mm and jason, met their med friends there, saw some co-workers, and college classmates. One night at White beach with them, then another at Sabang with Lennart and Menno. Sabang is geared towards foreigners, but a pinoy like can enjoy it too. It has a different personality from White beach, and so also a different charm. Kinda have a meditterannean feel. Worth a see.

5/21/2004: Chicago would come first, apparently...

2004-06-09T13:25:00.000-07:00

But I can't complain. This is the Chicago I like, all green and sunny blue skies, and none of the gray of winter. I had a comfortable 16-hour flight, was sleepy but the good movies begged my eyes from shutting. The meals were even better and more filling. I have the best apartment in the world, big and spacious, fully furnished, with the most awesome views -- Sears tower and the Chicago river to the left, the majestic architecture of the Merchandise mart infront, and the quiet North LaSalle avenue to the right.

4/12/2004: Have just been on a Cordillera adventure...

2004-06-09T13:24:00.000-07:00

For the entire Holy week, I was at Sagada-Banaue-Bontoc-Batad-Isabela with friends. What a thrill to be on top of a jeepney traversing the zigzaggy roads with mountains threatening landslides on one side and steep cliffs threatening your doom on the other. It was fun! Met really nice people from all over the Phils. and around the world. I speak Dutch now. :) It was a good and memorable week of long hikes, sore muscles, aching butts, spelunking, bat shit, freezing cave pool swims, yoghurt, mountain tea, wild blueberries, dutch/canadian/singaporean/deaf-mute/ilonggo/painter friends, abaca hats, "goodluck" charms, majestic waterfalls, and lord-of-the-ring-y scenes. Next stop, Mt. Pulag! :) (Or Chicago, whichever comes first)

My Friendster Updates - Prologue

2004-06-09T12:34:00.000-07:00

Why even come up with something like this? Well, my Friendster space is running out. I've started on this habit of putting some little updates on myself in the 'About Me' field on Friendster and it's getting to be so long. I wouldn't want to delete them and then lose all the things I've ever written, so I thought I need to have some place to to put them in, and trusty old blogger came to mind.

So here it is, the archives of all Friendster updates I've ever made, if you ever care what I thought at a certain time or what I did that I thought worthy of sharing.

Enjoy! :)

Tristan/Maharlika/Notnot