Mobile Reading

I don’t have a kindle. I haven’t seen a kindle and I can't see myself having a kindle in the near future. For some like me who can’t even afford a decent pair of running shoes, mobile books like kindle is the last thing in my mind.

But in the last 3 years of constant public transport commuting (read: jeepney/PUJs) from Jaro to Iloilo City downtown has proved stressful because, of the worsening traffic congested. It used to be a lot easier when the flyovers were non-existent and when LTFRB did not “sell” jeepney franchises like hot pandesal. (Those who say otherwise, raise your hand!)

I've recently knew that traffic congestion is one of the many stressors to a city resident, leading eventually to heart diseases and, well yes, premature death due to road rages.


My solution: read.

Read a book.

I have recently rekindled (no pun intended) my love for writing and reading, and I've amassed quite a number of books in the past few months. Most of them I bought because I wanted to write better.

My love for mobile reading, I discovered while reading J.R. Moehringer’s The Tender Bar. Mine is a hardbound copy with about 370 pages and I finished reading it in about a month, I guess.

It’s slow read, when you come to think of it, but I did it during my 20-minute jeepney rides from Jaro to my office in downtown Iloilo City. I realized that if I kept myself busy with the book I would not take notice of the clumsiness and the road butchery of the public transport drivers. And yes it helped, most of the time.

Prior to Moehringer’s, I’ve already started trying, first with Tom Wolfe’s From Bauhaus to Our House. 

Keith bought it about 8 years ago, along with Albert Camus’ The Stranger, which, thanks to the termites, has been wiped out from my collection. Bauhaus to our House was a difficult read for me because I was practically unfamiliar with the names of all modern architecture gods mentioned in the book. I also didn't understand Wolfe’s point—did he actually like the transformation to modernism of his beloved America or did he hate it? Sarcastic? Funny? So I had to read it again. And again—the third time I started highlighting the architects' names and the name of the buildings mentioned. Incidentally, I’ve started my love affair with pushpullbar and some other architecture readings so Wolfe’s became easier to understand. I got his point. Or so I think.

With Booksale conveniently located at the mall across where I work, I was practically hooked. Next I bought was Over the Moat: Love Among the Ruins of Imperial Vietnam, written by James Sullivan. 

I was never a fan of love stories. In fact, the last love story book I recall reading was that of Sweet dreams, back in my elementary days. It was also because my father banned these kinds of books at home. I bought James Sullivan's book because at that time, I did't have a husband-writing-about-his-wife book and because it’s about Vietnam. My roster also lacked a memoir about Asia. I have nothing on travelling, more so about travelling in Asia. I thought finding this book was timely. I finished the book in 3 weeks. Again, slow read because I was still adjusting to the art of reading inside a full-packed, overspeeding jeepney.

Then there came Candyfreak which I totally enjoyed. It was written by Steve Almond, a candy-loving Jew, and proud to be one. I think I bought it together with that Sullivan book. Because it was so funny and because I enjoyed every page of it, plus the fact that I have virtually mastered the reading the seemingly rollercoaster-ride that is the jeepney, I was able to finished it in a much shorter time. And also because, it was an easy read. Tender Bar was also beautiful, but it required a more detailed reading. When I was almost done with the book, I found my 3 year-old son one night, running his beloved scissor on its cover, so silent, like a ninja. Three slits. The next day, I brought it with me, unrepaired—three slits on the cover and all. I’ve almost forgotten how weird the book looked until I saw a handful of people staring at the book I was reading. 

Two of the most emotional books I read on the jeepney were Change me into Zeus Daughter by Barbara Robinette Moss, and Shot in the Heart by Mikal Gilmore. I bought Moss’ book because it's a memoir about a family. 

Plus, it was written by a woman. I still didn’t have that kind of book in my collection. Gilmore’s, I bought because it was a memoir written by a brother about an older brother in death row. Again, I still didn’t have that kind of book with me. Of all the books I read, these two were perhaps the most engaging because even when I was home, I read them before going to sleep and right after I wake up. It came to a point where I asked my kid to sleep on his own minus our reading of baby books routine because I couldn't wait to read my own books.
These two are hardbound, wider than the average size of the books and therefore, heavier. The stories were as heavy as the books.

These days, my jeepney companion is Daniel Treiber’s Frank Lloyd Wright. Again, it’s a difficult read because as much as i hated to admit it, I’m pretty low on the visual and spatial intelligence. 

Descriptions about the roof, the house lay-out, the panelings and glazings and all that stuff are hard for me to imagine. I would spend more time staring at the pictures of the houses than their descriptions. But even if that is so, there's no denying that this books has clearly showed how advanced FLW is for his time. Frankly, even if i'm a fan of modern architecture, Taliesin (East) remains to be a dream house. So there, that’s Wright education for me, courtesy of Keith.

The National Geographic Magazine is also a constant companion and every time a subscription arrives, I leave my book behind and bring this along. It takes me about a week to finish a magazine. By the time I’m done, the cover is wrinkled in faded from wrestling with all the knick knacks in my bag.


Reading is really fun. Cliché as it may, it’s my number 1 stress reliever. And maybe you should try it too. Especially when you’re in the middle of a terrible traffic congestion. But of course, not when you are the one driving.

Fin.