List of memories.

1996. journalism class. Pearl Jam. Therefore, Go. 

(PF asked for Black. If not Alive.)
Sunny opening. Here Comes the Sun.
And an Image of a chair. Because we first met inside the class. In Journalism class. Folding Chair.
And Hey Jealousy because Gin Blossoms was so high school. and 14 years after, on our first trip together they also came to where we were going.
And it was Free Fall (ing) from then on. (I thought there has to be some tom petty song. But I might reconsider. I might take this out.)
And then Handyman. Because, James Taylor was interviewed in BBC during the anniversary of the Beatles this month, December 2010. and because PF said so.
And then. Death of Your Father. 3 am. Strawberry Fields.
Followed by Alcohol which you only took, and never stopped taking from then on, after His death.
Yellow Submarine was the lyrics we dissected during the sessions at Dot’s beautiful house. Where both PF and I vividly recall Sobel and her guitar. She playing under the ficus tree. At 8 at night.
The session was a result of A counseling session where somebody played Danny’s Song. This song will always remind me of our “August and Everything After.”
And you come and you go. I never really understood you. Because you always were joking when you were serious. And it was rather frustrating. So i stopped assuming--but never seemed successful at that. 
You were always coming and going. I guess. We learned to live with that.
When you asked us of our favorite song, in July 2010, the first time PF sat in our writing workshop, this was my answer: The Ride.
I don’t know, but I feel I just have to insert I’ll Follow the Sun here.
Teenage Fanclub also has to be here somewhere. Your Love is the Place Where I come From is good for your kind of weather. You like the rain, right?
After sometime, I let myself believe that I perhaps am close to finally understanding you and, finally, understanding myself. Fade Into You.
All I know of you
is in my memory
All I ask is you
Remember me. Rosemary. 

Happy 40th birthday, Alfredo

. 

Mellow Doubt*

When i had my kid, i thought i'd mellow down.


I thought i'd stay away from things too risky--which i did for some good four years.


So when i was first invited to join a project in Afg, my automatic response was to say "No" because it was the right thing to do. The work was, after all, not just risky, but VERY risky. My kid was too young to lose a mother. The second time i got the same invitation, I again said "No" but informed the invitee that i will be asking around. I wanted to compare the pros and cons. Hearing this, he took the "inviting" a step further--he started showing me half of the real deal. My friend, after learning about it, urged me to accept the offer. She said her colleague who has just gotten back from that place has gotten so highly marketable he easily got a post for a project in colombia (or was it bolivia?). Wow, i so wanted to go to south america. they have very nice architecture there.


I think i will consider.


Now, two months into unemployment i couldn't wait for the deployment notice. i now badly wanted that engagement. And also because in a few more weeks, i'll be broke. The least i'd like to happen is me asking money from my husband. It embarrasses me. I've never really learned to live off from other people's earnings because it seems not fair. I honestly feel that in a family the husband is only responsible for himself and his share of responsibility for the kid(s). The wife should find her own financial security. Therefore she must find a way to contribute to the bills and the things for the kid(s) but certainly her whims is not the husband's responsibility. That way, everything is "equal".


Gad, I really am pathetic.


With so much time in my hands now, I wish i had outrightly said "Yes" at the first invitation and immediately gave my CV. What was i thinking? Why did i let the news on BBC faze me and give me nightmares? After all, if i do get killed on duty, what my kid would be getting would be more than enough to put him through an expensive university. Hell, it might even be enough to support him post-university should he choose to become a starving artist/writer.


I've been reading the Balkan memoirs of Greg Campbell and John Falk and they honestly got me envious. John Falk, especially, since he only got and survived the Bosnia assignment because he wanted to "play" with his existence. He was never really there as a hard-ass frontline journalist. He was there to see if the bombs and the bullets could scare the shit out of him. To test my excitement, I watched Restrepo on Nat Geo last Sunday. Nothing. Not scared. Did I say Diego Bunuel has been there? And Reza--i'm a fan of his work and his advocacy.


Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's just the holidays. I've never been really a fan of Christmas because I've never had good experiences with this season.


Who knows what I'll feel when the papers are really there, in my face. But now i know, when you got the restlessness in your blood, you have it forever. I don't think i'll ever be mellowing down.

FIN.

------


*Mellow Doubt is a title of a very beautiful Teenage Fanclub song from their equally beautiful and amazing album (okay, second to the more beautiful, Bandwagonesque) Grand Prix.

what a Wednesday is.

Yesterday ended rather late and today started earlier than usual. 


My kid and i left for Antique this morning but not without a stopover. In UPV Miag-ao. 


And it was yesterday night that we were buying his outfit for today's event that i repeatedly told him that we will not be taking the bus to his grandmother's house because a stopover in Miag-ao is necessary. I told him, the kid, that we (he + me) will be visiting my former university and that we will be going around the campus. The latter is apparently a lie, told because the truth will not excite him. because the truth is, while we are there, we will just spend the entire time at the registrar's office.  


We took the ride-from-hell from a jeepney in the city. The driver actually started and went on slow drive -- i dunno, i don't drive, maybe around 40-60 kph? -- from the city until midway to Guimbal. This is in order for him to get more passengers as the jeepneys seldom leave the terminal fully packed with sardines--err, passengers. And then when the driver felt it's too close to the destination to get more passengers, he cranked the speedometer up--maybe close to a 100 kph--not minding the swerving. I swore under my breath. I've almost forgotten how it's like riding jeeps plying southern iloilo. 


Despite this, the kid, who was already fast asleep when we reached Arevalo, remained undisturbed in his sleep, in tulo-laway fashion. He's gonna have a crazy hairdo by the time we get off. 


Anyway, I had to drop by UPV Miag-ao to process my request for diploma and transcript. Miag-ao is really a long way from Jaro and "process my request for transcript" as a reason can really not warrant a visit. I can use my connections anytime. And I won't even need to lift a finger. 


naaah -- actually the UPV Alumni Office already offers that kind of support to the graduates. And i'm certainly lying about them "connections."  

UPV "New" Admin building.
 Left wing is where the Registrar's office is.
Link to Photo

The people of the registrar's office took my request in, even to the last minute, even with their hands full of all other requests, and their attention divided by their Christmas party that was to start by 12:00 noon. Before me, came the 1980 alumnus who couldn't locate her records in Diliman, and was due to leave the country in two weeks. The staff at the registrar's office located it and did everything as the alumnus requested. They were not sugary friendly ("nanghihingi-ng-balatong") but they were very helpful to every one there. (Yes, honor and excellence.)


It was really difficult to keep the kid from going from one table to another inside the Reg's office, especially that they had a pabitin (for their Christmas party) in the middle of their office! The kid actually enjoyed being there and when he left with me, he waved goodbye with a long face to everyone in the office.  


Once out of the registrar's office, I started coaxing the kid to walk the rest of maybe 100 meters (or more) uphill to the CUB. The toddler obediently took my hand and i treated him to stories while we walked. I told him the road we're following used to be my regular running route in the university, and that I used to just walk from my boarding house to my classes. 


"Sang ara pa ako sa tyan ni nanay?" said the kid. (When i was still in mother's belly?)
"Wala pa." (Not yet)
"Sa balay lang ko ya?" (I'm just in the house?)
"Wala. Wala ka pa ya." (Not yet. You're not around yet.)
"Si tatay ya?" (How about father?)
"Iba man iya eskwelahan e." (He goes to a different school.)
"Upod kami?" (We go together?)
"Wala ka pa gani." (I said you are not around yet.)

link to photo

When we reached the clearing near the Diwata ng Dagat he asked to climb the acacia trees. one tree has a beautiful canopy; it's hasn't grown so tall yet and pretty climable. But it's not a public place, so it was no. I lied about the whole place being the nest of snakes. When i maliciously commented that the Diwata does not have any bra he did not even give it a glance. To think that at his very very young age he's already overly conscious about undressing or getting naked in public. 

link to photo

And because he walked without complain i allowed him to go up the UPV Museum of Natural Sciences (but more like a marine museum) at the lobby of the university library. i can;t remember all the questions i had to answer but one question he kept of asking is that why are the animals there all dead? Okay. 






The whole time we were roaming around, he kept telling me that that everything looks "high" (Wow, taas taas hagdan nila ba! Wow! Taas taas saka naton ba!). I remember it's his first time to be in a building located atop of a hill. And he seldom goes to places several stories high. He's thrilled of the "highness" of it all. Ah, how nice it is to be a kid and inexperienced. 

Inside CUB Cafeteria. It just so happen that this is
the only pic available on the net. Link to Photo

Not wanting to leave the campus, he told me he wants to eat lunch of vegetables (makaon laswa). I consented despite the need for us to hurry home (we had biscuits that could sustain his hunger pangs in the bus--and he ate a hearty breakfast!) because i also wanted to visit the CUB. 


It was lonely. The CUB was one lonely lonely place. I felt miserable eating lunch there. The chairs are broken, the tap not working (so the staff provided jerry cans of potable water), the ceiling fans are also broken, the building looks old, the food was not good, it was so humid. The whole place was just depressing. During my time there as a student, there was a potable water tap that shoot cool, clean, drinkable water. One of my fisheries schoolmate said that it has to be clean because it's what them lab people use for their experiments that required "sterile" water. I dunno what happened. Maybe some students contracted amoeba and they had to shut the line off. Or maybe it's just the way things work. They just stop being good and magical and wonderful one day. 


The kid didn't eat much; I had to throw the untouched cup of rice. I thought I'd be hungry but it turned out i was hungry for a different kind of food, for the ambiance that's is already non-existent. I collected our plate and tray and put them in the collection area while the kid played with his little toy trucks. We hurried outside. 


As we made our way to the stairs leading to the highway, i tell him more stories. For one sentence I say, he tells me a thousand more. 


I made the him wait on the stairs while I watch for the bus. We exchanged questions and answers again about my life as a university student. He kept on asking me what on he was doing while I was at school. Or where he was? Did he wait at home?


"Wala a, wala ka pa ya," I tell him. (Not yet. You were not here yet.)
"Diin ako bay?" (Where was I?)
"Wala pa gid e." (You're VERY not around yet.)
"Diin ko nagkadto haw?" (Where did i go?)
"Wala ka pa to nabuhi." (You're not yet born/alive(?).)
"Napatay na ko?" (I was dead?)
He gave me no choice. I can already see the roof of the bus from the dip in the road ahead. 
"Basta. Huo." (Trust me. Yes.)


And i went to flag for the yellow Ceres bus. 

FIN.

we don't have no place like that anymore.

There was a time (i don't know, in 2008??) that my ninja and I would go to mezzagrille for after office conversations. Most of them included ABD who discovered it first. Following the demise of the Tree House (in General Luna, Iloilo City), this became our favorite place. 

My ninja, ABD and i. 

we don't have no place like that anymore. 

FIN.

The GMOA Experience

Four days into our hibernation keith and i left our comfort zone for the provincial capital for a change of scenery. Also because we didn't have any cash left and only the capital has all the banks, thus the mid-day (ad)venture. Oh, it's the first time we deliberately went to the capital! clap clap clap!


The capital has a new mall, they call it G-MOA, or more completely, Gaisano Mall of Antique. the MOA acronym was already made popular by the SM conglomerate when they built the atrociously huge gas guzzling building called Mall of Asia, MOA for short (but i still couldn't get the hang of it. I haven't been there and if people tell me they went to MOA there would be a blank "huh?" from my end and that storyteller would be forced to drop the more popular name "SM" then my face would light up.)


So Gaisano hitched a ride with MOA and called theirs G-MOA. yea, it's gonna be a hit to the brown skinned white trash.


I am just appalled at how these moneymakers underestimate our intellect. It's almost the same thing with the supposed-to-be-indie movie Sigwa, but that's a different topic (which i might be driven enough to rant about someday, yeah, when it's already stale).


Frankly, I didn't expect much from the building because Gaisano is well-known for their kabaduyan, anyway. However, i did hope they will spare my province from their disease, and apparently they didn't. The noise inside was just unbearable. The music from the cheap speakers were so loud and the PA system so bad it's like being in a nightmarish rock fest. 


Our kid, on the other hand, remained excited despite these little discomforts. Brown skinned and probinsiya as we are, Gaisano decided to cheapen us some more by not putting airconditioning at some parts of the mall. For one, the lobby of the supermarket was so humid. The smell and air was so bad Keith said it's designed to make you sick.


(a really bad segway coming) 
That's the good thing -- probably the best -- about being a kid. you're completely oblivious to the ugliness of the world, or gad, the GMOA, until you learn about good design, art, or cultural sensitivity. Education and knowledge is a double-edged sword that you have to learn to use properly. I think that's what university/college is for, provided of course, that you have educated professors.
(end of the bad segway) 


Unable to arrest the kid's hyperactivity we brought him to Mr. Donuts. I half-expect there would be local food stores other than Mang Inasal, Jollibee and Greenwich because we already have a of surplus of those in the City. Their junk is the last thing i'd like eat while i'm here. But none in GMOA, except for a couple that serve lunch fare, and we were too full for lunch. So coffee and donuts is it.


Anyhow, the kid wanted to order all the colorful donuts but i set the limit to only three and he ate everything like he just ordered 1 sungak-sungak meal, dine in, mind you, not talabunan*. not even to go.


"Why is it so noisy in here?" I said to his father. 


Christ. the store has its own pipe-in music and at that certain moment they were playing the baylehan dance music. The PA outside was gurgling announcements, competing with the stylized versions of christmas songs--the mall's own piped-in music. It's just noisy. noisy. noisy.


Gaisano, not all brown skinned white trash enjoy everything baylehan**. so please. we are all not without taste. 


And because we're just grocery shopping junkies, never department/boutique shopping junkies we capped our small tour by checking out the supermarket section. It lacked airconditioning although Keith said he liked that they are selling big cans of Baguio oil.***


"It's what our favorite supermarket lacks, i think."

"Yeah. But they don't have the Oishi potato chips. And the rest is just bad." 
(That comment can't be trusted because i don't live here anymore. and seriously, i can spend an entire month at home without having the need to go to a supermarket. really.)


"They also don't have tortillos." 


I did notice a lot of goods you'd get from the sari-sari store are missing from the shelf. For one, the junk food section looked like it just survived a season of panic-buying because there were a number of sections without display. 


I paid for the purchases and we decided to just head home. The noise sucked all the energy out of me.


"So that must be the reason for putting these junk food stores near the entrance. It's the only thing that's really "good" here. It's like candy from a pedophile." (Shit, i don;t know why i even thought of that analogy.)


Keith enjoyed it; he never had any of it being a city kid. The kid, too, he enjoyed the shebang, because kids are always happy until we tell them to stop being so. I was disappointed because really, I thought we were more than that.


But hell, this is Gaisano! (insert Gaisano jingle here)




--------


And here is the part that explains all those asterisks. 


*mah friends and i (which one, i can;t remember. Bobong, maybe) had this brilliant idea that instead of naming our combo meals 1-2-3 or merienda or kiddie or some over-used words we'll call it with local terms like "sungak-sungak" (a really big meal good enough to feed a giant), "talabunan" (meaning if you can't finish a meal, you may opt to borrow a "tabon" (cover) and come back for it later -- gross but funny), "2-days nagutman meal" (a meal good for somebody who have not eaten for two days, and you may opt to have it "talabunan", too!)


**not to diss "baylehan" as a culture or history. "baylehan" through times has evolved into something with negative connotation. but i have to do more in-depth research to be able to explain that. i don't have anything against this as i practically grew up going to these, if not watching these from our house second floor window.

***Incidentally, we're, like, fans of buying-things-in-big-packages because it's more economical and environment friendly that way. Oil for one, we usually buy it in 2-liter packages because i for one, believe that we waste a lot of the expensive cooking oil buying it in its iced-candy package. 

FIN.