Ne-i-therland

Missing Pepot

2009-06-10T22:41:00.000-07:00

It's so quiet in the office today. The air feels as empty as the vacant spaces beside me.

Most of the people are out. They are either on leave, in a meeting or on travel. The Managers are busy in the bored room. So there are so many empty rooms in the office since this morning.

It's the last day of the work week, tomorrow being a holiday. I can hear Jack's laptop humming with gentle music from his laptop. "Rock, baby, rock..." Arrrgghhh! This is not the typical last day of the work week I know.

I miss Jeff! I miss the little bugger. I miss his corny jokes. I miss the "pasaway" in the office. Walang nagpapatawa sa office kaya ang tahimik!

This is the reason I have been prompted to write on my blog at this hour. The presence of Jeff is hard not to miss. He can draw out any person from any walk of life.

A trip down Divisoria with him and the Committee is dumbfounded. There's always people waving at him and talking to him. The first time I saw somebody who is treated like he is the owner of that big flea market down Chinatown.

A trip anywhere and he will likely turn a total stranger into a friend at the end of the day. He would make a good trainor for politician-wanna-bes. He has a lot of tricks on his sleeves to break the ice with people. He should have been a politician, in fact.

Of course, God can really be fair. When He threw the endearing qualities of charm out into space, I think Jeff caught 90% of it. I observe him when he talks to people. He can charm his way into anyone's shoes. That is equivalent to saying he has the ability to charm his way into the ladies' undies if he wants.

Why did I say God is fair? Well, Jeff, in his own way, knows he's no Tom Cruise or Hugh Jackman. He's just fair looking. But with that charm, God was fair enough not give him too much of the looks. (Peace, Jeff).

Aahhh... the silence at the office is deafening. I need to laugh to ease away the silence eating at my head and heart.

Go back to the office, Jeff... It's too quiet here. =(

2009-04-03T03:48:00.001-07:00

The messages started pouring in last night as I was trying to queue up for confession at the Opus Dei base in Ortigas.

The first one came from my husband - "It was good your trip was cancelled. There is a missing plane in Tuguegarao." I immediately forwarded the message to my supposed to be fellow travellers last Wednesday and Thursday from Manila to Tuguegarao and back again. I forwarded another message to the IP Queen herself who made all our flight arrangements. Her response was, "Yes, I heard about it. It's one of the chartered planes we also hire for our needs."

Today, the first message I opened in my email is from my boss.

Personal message:

Aren't you glad the commercial flight was cancelled?

Below is the link he sent regarding the missing plane.

Plane carrying 7 people reported missing in Cagayan

MANILA, Philippines -- A small plane carrying seven people was reported missing today after leaving Tuguegarao airport in Cagayan Valley.

Reports said the aircraft, piloted by Capt. Tomas Yanez and Capt. Reiner Cruz, with passengers SPO2 Rolly Castanos, Celestino Salacup, Abelardo Baggay, Joel Basilio, and James Bakilan, did not reach its destination in Maconacon, Isabela.

The plane left the airport around 8 a.m., reports added.

Police are now checking with the Air Transportation Office to locate the missing plane. - By Dennis Carcamo (Philstar News Service, www.philstar.com)

Yes, I am glad I was not on that flight. I still have guardian angels looking after me. Now, I wonder how many lives I still have left...

Viajelogue #2: April Fool's Day

2009-03-31T22:50:00.000-07:00

I woke up today resolute on something. I'm leaving ten years of baggage behind. It's a fresh start for me and it's liberating.

My husband woke me up at 4:30am. I am leaving for Magat by plane at 11am. But I need to get some things done so I asked him the night before to set the alarm earlier than our usual. When the ringing started, I snuggled closer to him. He gave me a kiss and stood up to heat up water for my bath. He promptly went back to bed and I snuggled closer to him. As he spooned me, a sigh escaped my lips. Half an hour later, he was waking me up again and I knew I can no longer postpone waking up.

By 6:15am, I was out of the house and hailing a cab. At 6:48am, I was opening the front door of the office and saying hello to the unseen occupants of the room. "Where is the Love" started playing on my cellphone. I picked up a message from Ice. We have Bulawin Pandesal for breakfast.

I opened my T61 and started checking mails. Official only please. No time nor heart for personal mails at this time. My phone rang in a little while and the IP Queen herself is asking me if I had already taken the airline tickets from her desk. I confirmed and she asked me to drop by at the 3rd Floor to pick up scrambled eggs. Fifteen minutes later, I was in the pantry having breakfast with Ice and the IP Queen. Scrambled eggs, corned beef, Bulawin pandesal and lotsa chili, and yum!

By 8:30am, all baggages were at the van and we were off to Terminal 3. Still a short line on the way in but I was already on my toes. I was traveling with Nerie, one of our Admin Assistants, Totoy Bibo, our SHESQ Manager and the "Grandfather Rule", our CEO. Enough reason to be on my toes.

We breezed through the check-in and paid the terminal fee. At half past nine, we were sitting by Mrs. Fields cafe and Grandfather Rule was asking us if we wanted to have something for breakfast. I declined the offer but opted to have Bottled Water anyway. Small talk passed around but I was still on my toes. I need to find a temporary person for PAH and I made a few phone calls.

An hour later, Grandfather Rule led the way to the Gate. As we entered the waiting lounge, a voice said over the speakers, "Flight 018 to Tuguegarao is delayed." Grandfather Rule gave his endearing smirk to say, "What else is new?".

We wait in the lounge for further announcements. I take a seat beside Nerieza while Grandfather Rule and ShesQ sit in front of us. Each one of us took turns checking our mails and text messages. Every half an hour, a voice overhead will tell us that the flight has been put on hold. Shortly before twelve, a new information is announced. "Flight 018 bound for Tuguegarao has been cancelled due to weather conditions." They might as well have said that "Happy April Fools' Day. See you tomorrow!"

Passengers started to grumble. We overheard some of them remarking that they were at the airport as early as 7 am. Actually, our flight was originally scheduled at 9:00 am but the day before, we were advised that it will be moved back at 11:00 am so we were able to adjust accordingly. But these poor passengers who didn't have the same privilege we had.

We trooped out to the Arrivals Area to claim the 52.2 kilos of baggage we checked in earlier - all uniforms for our plant in Isabela. I asked a PAL Express Attendant if I can reimburse what I paid for the excess wait and I was given instruction on where to do it. Grandfather must have been really tired out by the long wait earlier so he opted to have coffee with SHESQ while Nerie and I claimed the reimbursement.

At half past twelve, we were weaving our way back to Makati office where Nerie was greeted with jokes about being jinxed as it was supposed to be her first time out in Isabela. Lunch courtesy of SHESQ revived our spirits and at 2:30pm, we were doing a telecon in lieu of the conference we should have attended personally had it not been for that cancelled flight.

Overall, the four of us were circumspect about the whole thing. As SHESQ remarked, the meeting was jinxed already prior to the flight. It has been cancelled five times already. Maybe, God was telling us something and we needed to listen.

Oh well, all's well that ends well.

Next stop: Benguet again, Cebu, Isabela and Pangasinan.

Whew. I'd better go home early tonight and spend time with Brianne and Edwin then...

Viajelogue #1

2009-03-16T20:44:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 12 March 09

The day went crazy. It had to take forty minutes and several sets of prayers for help before I was able to hail a cab going to Makati. I was nine minutes late at the office. I was still in the process of opening up my laptop when my phone rings and Ice tells me my 10am is already at Herco. I check my time. It was barely 9:30am. I told her I will be right over and quickly dialed IT’s local. Mar answers and I tell him his applicant is already at the lobby. Mar tells me to come over so we can begin. I hastily printed out two copies of the resume and I was off to the other building.

The interview was a disaster. So early and I was trying to control myself from losing my temper. My applicant was lying to me in the face. There were so many loopholes he could not tie down. I give Mar a sharp look as he sat across the long table of the Board Room. He avoids my gaze but shows a barely imperceptible smirk. A sign to tell me he knows I’m about to blow up. He takes away the line of questioning. Every now and then, I would ask my own, still unsatisfied with some of the loopy answers from the applicant. I feel a slight nudge on my feet under the table. Mar’s long legs telling me to shut up already. At five to eleven, I tell Mar I need to cut the interview and apologized politely to the applicant. Mar wraps his questions up and I go out to the lobby to discuss something with Ice. Barely five minutes later, Leif walks in, asking if we can begin the meeting with Melissa. At 11:30, I go back to my hole. I had barely sat down and Finn was approaching me regarding his working papers. I go over them and tells him everything is in order. As I go over my mails, I notice a piece of note on my laptop from Jojo telling me Puno lawyers are looking for me. Something about Suda’s papers.

Lunch time over, Jojo hands me a thousand peso bill. I ask him what the money is for. He tells me he owes me two weeks back. Oh. May blurts out a teasing note, “Mini Stop ice cream!” A few more pulling and with Nerieza, Mar and Jojo in tow, we were licking at vanilla cones.

Back at the office and I catch up on morning mails. I begin to leaf through the proposal from the medical insurance company and before long, it was half past three. My phone rings again and Melissa is asking me if I had lunch yet. I told him I had angel hair pasta. She asks me to accompany her at Mini Stop before she blows her top. I oblige and I found myself listening to her as I watch her lick her cone of ice cream.

Back again at the office. I leaf through papers again, planning to send out some papers to AON. My phone rings again and Ice tells me one word over the phone, “Dimacali.” I tell her I’ll be right over. Six flights of stairs down and two flights of stairs up later, I find myself going over bags and bags of uniforms. I ask Ice if they can be loaded in the van. Ice assures me that she will arrange for the upload.

Before long, it was 4pm. My laptop hyperventilates and I call up IT again. Mar comes over and check and I had nothing to do but go over more resumes. Mar tells me my hardrive is full and asks me what have I been filling it with. I shrugged my shoulders helplessly. He goes over to check and tells me I have lots of backup data wasting my space. He transfers all of them into the network and an hour and a half later, only 8.1 gig is freed up and 43.2 gig still to go. I ask him to junk it for another day. He readily agrees, knowing we both need to pack up soon.

6pm and I give Ice a call to ask if everybody is packing up. She tells me Elvi is already shooing people out. Laptop goes inside my backpack and I shoved in some papers in my other bag. I wave goodbye to TBA people and Harold emerges from the Conference Room trying to catch up. We go down to the van and found only Ed loading up.

Half an hour later, Ice and I are asking Elvi how many more minutes. She tells us to instruct the van to go around and wait for Ms. D up front. Fifteen minutes later, Che walks out of the front of Herco. Ice remarks that we only need to wait for two more days for Ms. D. Ten minutes later, Ms. D loads up in the van and we were off to EDSA to battle the traffic.

The Battle of the Billboards

EDSA is literally littered with giant billboards. Ugly sights, blinding ads. And the van was filled with a healthy and joyful remarks.

We begin with Ann Curtis in her perfect ten swimsuit. I heard Ms. D theorizing that it was photo-shopped. Everyone agreed though that Ann Curtis looked perfect in the billboard with her hand-painted swimsuit.

Next stop was Angel Locsin’s back to back billboard. Also in swimsuit. But she looked literally dirty and unappetizing. Hmm. My mind checks itself. A very chauvinistic way to describe a woman. The discussion goes on around me. A consensus was reached. Angel’s billboard looked like a sorry sight. Whoever thought of the idea for the billboard made a clear mistake.

Next came another angel. Angelika Panganiban looked like a sultry temptress in her Bench billboard. But everybody agreed she also looks unappetizing compared to the Ann Curtis billboard. And a local showbiz discussion ensued. Mar tinkers around in front and puts in a CD. Gary Granada sings satirically and everybody fell silent. I shoved my earphones in my ears and plays a different tune in my MP4. I have heard Gary singing a hundred times already for the past month during my trips up north. I can practically hear him singing in my sleep. Time to listen to a different tune. Live gives me a passionate rendition of Walk the Line. And I start singing along.

Dinner

Ice whispers beside me. Where do we eat dinner? How much can we spend per head. I tell her Expressway should be best. KFC will do for P200 per head. We can get bento box for each one. We asked everyone’s consent. Che reminds me that Jeff has already assured her we can eat what we want charged to his cost center. I laugh. Jeff has been love-trapped by Che.

Some tollgates and more than an hour later, we stretch our muscles and finally decide Kenny’s is better for dinner. Ice and I make a beeline at the counter. I suggest to Ice that we can take the Chicken Solo meal with 2 side dishes for everyone. Ice laughs and remarks at my practicality, similar to her approach.

Halfway on the meal, I felt my stomach close up and my throat gagging. Stomach full. I asked the food attendant to wrap the food up for me and got some money from Ice’s petty cash to buy water for everyone.

As we travelled along SCTEX, several messages and phone calls went around. Everybody had business to attend to. And soon, everyone started dozing off.

Mulawin Pandesal

Ice tells Mar to remind the driver to stop by Moncada for pandesal. Everyone were instantly wide awake. Breakfast on their minds. They asked Ice how much is the budget for bfast. Ice asks me how much we should buy. I told her a hundred pesos for pandesal will do. Loud but good natured protests were thrown in the air. I told them the amount is equivalent to 50 pieces of salted bread already. And everyone pipes down only to start up again asking about palaman. Ice tells them fingers for spreads will do.

Two hours later, we were in front of Mulawin Bakery in Moncada. I get off the van to place the order. Several shady looking guys sat beside me as I waited for the bread. Mar and Edong, the driver, followed me and stood on guard. One of the shady looking guys starts singing beside me trying to catch my attention. I ignored him and got the bag of bread. We were off in no time.

Between Pangasinan towns, Ice and I dozed off. I had a disturbed sleep. I opened my eyes wide and sensed something amiss. Mar looks over his shoulder guiltily, tinkering with his cellphone. I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. He looks away.

Pit Stop

At Sison, we stop for a last pee at the Petron station. As I was zipping up my fly, Jars of Clay started singing the chorus lines of Waiting for the World to Fall. I check my cellphone for messages and there it was. A picture of Ice and me sleeping inside the van. The multimedia message read: Mga natutulog sa pandesalan (Sleeping in the Bread Shop).

I go out of the toilet and found Mar talking to Che and Harold. I pinched him on the side to show my displeasure at him. Ice laughs. I asked her if she saw the multimedia message. She confirmed and I huffed in silence. The grudge match is on.

March 13, Friday

An hour later, I woke up to find us moving outside of Kennon road. We were near Paterno already. Soon enough, we were loading up and checking in. All four of us – Ice, Che, Ms. D and I were booked at Room 2C. Great. My least favorite room in the house because of the ghastly ghost who keep waking me up when I am there.

I sat down and opened my laptop to check and send mails. My roomies started to clean up and change for bed. I went to sleep at 2:30am and set my alarm for six.

The Inanities of Breakfast

Aerosmith begins to croon at me. I don’t wanna close my eyes. I don’t wanna fall asleep ‘coz I’d miss you, babe, and I don’t wanna miss a thing.

I debated with myself whether I should get up. I waited for anyone to stir inside the room. I groaned and got up. I started running the water inside the bathroom and quickly took a shower. Che soon followed and Ice started talking on the phone. Ms. D decided to use 2A bathroom. As Ice showered, our room was filled up with sound of blow dryer. Che quickly dried her hair while I braided mine. Soon, the four of us were towing away our bags and luggages in the living room. We made our way into the breakfast room filled with Harold, Ed, Mar and Joseph’s voices. Immediately, the room became rowdier as Mulawin pandesal and butter were passed around with coffee and Manang’s scrambled eggs.

I had barely finished my coffee and Atty. Mike arrived dressed in Barong. Immediately, he asked for my USB. He copied a file and off I went to print out a contract for him. As I was doing it, EVR came and sat down beside me to eat his cereals. I excused myself and took off with my laptop down to the basement to check for my printout.

Soon enough, I was handing Atty. Mike a stack of papers and they started to hie off for a meeting. The rest of my travel companions were standing around waiting for me so we could all go off to El Cielito for Jeff’s seminar.

I asked for five minutes wait time. I quickly took an envelope in my laptop bag, ran down back to the basement and looked for OPD, Svein and Suda. I handed out passports, permits and IDs. Jonas Ruud, who I met for the first time that day, remarked, “So, you’re the visa girl.”

I smiled. I told him that I got his passport with me already and will soon be getting him a visa extension. OPD asked up to when his and his wife’s visa are valid. A quick check and I told them I must hie off, didn’t want to keep people waiting.

Barely ten minutes later, we were at El Cielito Inn.

QMS

The day dragged on. Ice sat beside me and kept on remarking at the snail’s pace the discussion was taking. Mar on my other side kept on remarking at how many people likes to discuss for the sake of discussion. The day took its toll on all of us in the Makati table. Only Ed was alive and actively participating in the discussion. Before 5pm, Friday the 13th manifested itself on me. I saw bits and pieces of Ice’s life. I think I spooked her out.

Kubong Sawali

We couldn’t wait to be on the road home. But C3 started handing out dinner invitations. Che decided we ought to take him up on it. After much ado, we found ourselves eating at Kubong Sawali. It was already after six and we were technically off duty. Ice and I decided it was safe to drink since people ordered beer anyway.

One double shot of tequila and I could feel my face warming up. I raised another glass in salute to Ice and Mar. Two double shots and Ice was telling me that she feels woozy. Che remarks that I had fallen silent and look sleepy. Jeff laughs at my red face. I smiled in good nature at them. There was no need for me to say anything.

I went to the toilet with Ice for a last pee. As we went back, I started herding people out. Goodbyes were said. I stood beside Ferdie, our Site Manager as people started filing in the van. Mar follows and discusses something with Ferdie. I was beginning to feel sleepy. I went inside the van. I am way past words.

Kennon

Che remarked at my silence inside the van. I didn’t really have much to say. When you are half drunk and into an introspective mode, it is always best to sit in silence lest people think wonder at how drunk exactly you are.

Ice fell asleep beside me after reminding Mar all the stopovers we need to make. The darkness of Kennon offered a lot of reprieve.

I had shaken off the heaviness that had descended on me during my last three trips in Baguio. I rued at a thought. Amazing how tequila can give you a feeling of numbness. But I have already felt numb even before I went up to Baguio last night. What else is there to feel?

The canopy of darkness conceals jagged mountains and fast dying trees and vegetation. Summer is come and it will start its destructive spree. Only the remains of the full moon illuminate in small measure what is dying.

Pit Stop

Sison again. Ice, Che and I went for a toilet break. Back in the van, Che teased out a coffee pit stop at any Starbucks station from Jeff.

Soon it was quiet again, broken every now and then by people’s lively discussion and occasional laughter. Che kept on remarking about my silence. What can I really say? My roads have come full circle. I only talk when I feel strongly about something. Tequila numbs. There is no room for discussion inside a drunken mind.

Mulawin flies again

This time, I stayed inside the van while everybody tried to scramble for freshly baked bread to take home. Edong stands guard by the van’s door. He wore a black shirt with a dragon. I asked him where he bought it. I wanted my own to add up to my collection. Every shirt has a story, they symbolize every kind of dragon that had lain slain in my past life.

The van travels again. The silence was broken this time by my cellphone. The sound of the flash gave away my position. A perfectly timed shot to illuminate a sleeping figure who dared to steal souls the night before.

There was an adage I heard against taking a picture of people sleeping. It says that when a person in sleep was captured on camera, that person’s soul is also taken.

Soul for soul. Shot for shot. The grudge was settled. A soul has been returned.

EDSA

People started getting off along the highway. Ed was first off along Pampanga. Ice followed along Bulacan. Jeff got off shortly before EDSA. And then there were seven left, excluding Edong the driver. Che transferred beside me but started dozing.

I began humming. Tequila has worn off. I no longer have any excuse not to talk but I can sing underneath my breath.

I travel the same road over and over again. I keep returning to the one place I always leave behind. No travel day is the same. Only my corner of the world is the same.

I am nowhere near where I want to be. I tried to veer off the path, how many times really. The path keeps changing only to bring me back.

Did I learn anything? Some and more. The same lessons in different languages and situations. As Edong drives up between Cubao and Ortigas, I silently agree with Vertical Horizon.

So you sail away
Unto grey sky mornings…

At 1:30 am, Che dropped me off in front of the gate of the home I have made in the past seven years. Standing in front is my husband. He waits for me. As he opens the door of the apartment we live in, Brianne stands up to give me a hug and a kiss.

Vertical Horizon continues to play in my mind.

It’s not so bad…
You’re only the best I ever had.

My grey sky mornings will soon come. But it will always be replaced by the sun. Where ever I go, whatever I do, they will always be there.

Mommy and Mama

2009-03-14T05:06:00.000-07:00

My mother was one of the busiest Moms during her day. She was very dedicated to her job as a public school teacher, sometimes it even eats up her Saturdays and Sundays and even night time supposed to be spent with us. But we never complained. Mommy was complemented by Mama, her eldest sister who took very good care of us we thought at one time she was our real mother.

Having two women around the house to take care of us felt almost like heaven. Mommy makes sure that the fridge is always full (and locked too because I keep sneaking a peek to see what I can feed my always hungry belly). Mama, on the other hand, patiently prepares our daily meals. As a result, we grew up in a household of glorious food, a legacy which my brother and sisters have kept up with all those years, even with Mommy gone.

Saturdays and Sundays are always the best time of the week. This is the time when Mommy cooks a combination of Italian, Spanish, Ilocano and Tagalog dishes. The motto in the Bool household was, money may run out at some point but good food can never run out. Mommy was brilliant at turning simple dishes into heavenly delights. Friends who come over for visit at some point will remark on the food we have. And Christmas and special occasions are always marked with people commenting on the food both Mommy and Mama can whip up all in good time.

My two sisters inherited the knack more than I did. These days, Christmas and birthdays and whatever special occasions are spent in Las Pinas with them doing all the cooking. I just bring something which they no longer have the time to prepare. And mind you, between the three of us, I'm still considered the worst cook. They still laugh at some of my cooking, including my father who I haven't quite forgiven yet because he thought frying siomai was silly (and I was vindicated because you now see fried siomai all over Mini Stop).

I miss Mommy and Mama's cooking. There is always that secret ingredient they put in when they cook. My two Ates, they both learned about that secret ingredient earlier than I did. So the years of practice probably made them better cooks.

Give or take a few more years, my Ates and I will be able to pass on the legacy to our kids. Over the years, we have discovered a few new ingredient to add, a new spice to use, and a new twist to old dishes that seem to have worked on our taste.

My fear now is for my daughter. Very early in life, she knows what high quality, good food means. Something which is not an exclusive result of the good food she eats from my side of the family. Her fairy (ei, fairy daw oh) godmother, Myra, spoils her so. Brianne is often kidnapped by Myra and taken to some fine restos around Ortigas and Makati area and I only learn about that when she is all full and happy to chat with me. And she can appreciate good food by simply sniffing the air.

I try to keep her grounded, though. Simple cooking at home on weekends has its own magic. She never fails to tell me whenever I cook on weekends how much she loves those simple dishes I can whip up.

Perhaps, Mommy and Mama were both right. Cooking is all about love. Cooking is all about patience. And cooking is all about letting your love ones feel how much you feel for them.

Tonight's recipe is sinigang, a simple Filipino dish taught to me by Mommy and Mama when I was in fifth grade. I am going away again to Magat next week. I have no worries about Brianne and Edwin missing me. My fridge is very well stocked (I'm running out of food space again, I need a bigger one). I spent the afternoon marinating chicken and pork, again with ingredients passed down by Mommy and Mama, with Ate Joy's twist. When I come back from the trip, I will make it up to them by cooking Mommy's Pochero, which Brianne now calls "Mommy's Beef cooked with love". This is a simple dish I learned from Ate Dulce, with my own twist: meeting Mommy's Spanish version with my mother-in-law's Bicolano version and harmonizing them as my own. It will take me three hours of slow cooking fire to prepare it. But as Mommy and Mama always said, you can't hurry up good food.

(A special thanks to my friend Mon Soliva, who sent over a poem for some of my critiquing. The list of food in his poem menu made me want to whip up something different again for Brianne.)

saturday with the yayas

2009-03-01T06:32:00.000-08:00

on the way…

nearly 11:00 am. i jumped inside the first taxi i hailed and told him to take me to edsa shang. i knew the yaya’s propensity to be late but i didn’t want to be that late. i also know how horrible the traffic is along shaw boulevard on a saturday, and a pay day at that.

the traffic was moving, thankfully. it only took me two red lights before i jumped out and briskly walked inside the mall. even before i got to the door, i was already signaling to the lady guard to hold off her “bomb sensor”. the woman didn’t understand what i was telling her and just shoved the instrument out to me. i had to push it back away and tell her rather sharply not to. then i unzipped my backpack to let her take a peek inside. that was how she understood my meaning. but she gave me a sharp look of annoyance anyway. i gave her one of my best freezing stares to shut her up.

i ran all the way to the fifth floor of the mall and quickly went out to the mrt station. there was a long line and i stood at the end. i was standing there for three minutes already when i saw that the line i was standing on was actually for buying tickets. i could have kicked myself. i have already pre-paid ticket to the tram (they call it a train but agh).

i shoved the ticket in and went downstairs to wait for the next tram. all the while, i was shoving the earphones of my mp4 between my ears. the next tram stopped and i found myself inside the car. mp4 comes alive with music and reo speedwagon croons slowly. “and we climb, and at the top we’d fly… let the world know below us that we are lost in time…”

i smiled…

gateway

i called up jenny gump just as i stepped out to ask for directions to volare. it’s been a very long time since i was in the cubao area. i had avoided going there because there’s just too many people in the area. also, it wasn’t the cubao i remembered when i used to live in the nearby area, along project 4. for me, gateway is a zoo.

following jenny’s directions, i found my way in the mall just before araneta coliseum. i saw a concierge and asked for directions again to volare. i thanked her and walked inside rustan’s department store. i wanted to find something to give nharleen. it was her birthday, after all. and i am excited to see her again after almost a year, with her being pregnant and all.

i found myself walking in the perfume store. courteous sales people greeted me, enticing me to try on some of the new scents. i smiled at them and politely declined. then i got to the men’s perfume section. i stopped by in front of the polo section. i breathed in. hmmm… a thought. dismiss the thought. i heard a slight movement of excitement behind me. some people checking out davidoff. i remembered i needed to buy myself new davidoff cool waters lotion. but that can wait. i’m already late for the lunch with the yayas. i went upstairs, looked around and could not find anything for the pregnant woman.

volare

following the concierge’s direction, i went downstairs to find volare restaurant. to my surprise, it advertised italian food. hard not to spot a big bump protruding even as i was walking in. nharleen was already there, talking to the food service attendant (aka waitress) about her order. nharleen saw me and got up to give me a kiss. she looked like a very plump but really beautiful expecting mother. i absolutely adored her in her purple blouse and very easy white capri pants. her hair was like katie holmes. she looked like the school teacher version of katie holmes with her dark-rimmed glasses on. and she didn’t care. she looked fabulous!

we started chatting and i ordered bottomless iced tea. i asked her about the baby and papa a. she told me about how she accidentally found out she was pregnant, about her wonderful ob-gyne, Dr. Brion, about Ashlee. Ashlee was calling her already as “baby brother.” my infanticipating friend was radiant.

about ten minutes later, jenny gump walks in, all hot from the humid weather. her hair wove down in waves about her. she plopped herself down in relief. i signalled to the food attendant and ordered iced tea for jenny gump. nharleen started giving out her presents. beautifully crafted wooden chopping boards from ifugao. sturdy. heavy. i was already imagining the kind of food i was going to chop down with it and all the juices flowing in with the juice from the wood. it would be a good weapon against domestic violence too, i thought.

jen sexon walks in, all in yellow. and like gump, she’s all hot and flustered from the humidity. summer is really making its presence felt in manila this early. and i thought, hmmm… not even spring yet in the northern countries.

pizza and pasta and the company of good friends

the four of us launched into discussions of babies and girlie stuff. the mood was very light and relaxed. everyone was so excited about the coming baby and the beautiful mom. gump asked me about brianne. jen s announced who will be late. we asked about marlyn and we were told that marlyn is coming over for the lunch next week. immediately, i did a double take. say what? jen s laughed. marlyn got confused with the dates or something like that.

and then a discussion about being rural rich but urban poor. i had to laugh about that. what a politically correct term to use. i could sense an affinity with the term. i am one. had been ever since i started college. actually, i realized i was that only when i got into college. hmmm… actually, gump and nharleen echoed my thoughts out loud, all of us in the table are rural rich and urban poor in college. now, that is a really warming thought.

soon enough, a marlyn in red polo shirt walked in. jen s and gump ordered another round of pizza. nharls and i were happy to finish off the salmon pizza and the pasta with anchovies. don’t ask me what their names are. didn’t even glance at the menu except when i went looking for dessert.

in a few minutes, cathy sauntered in. she looked like cathy. she was dressed as casually as we are. i remarked in amazement at how easy and relaxed we all looked. like we were again back in our UP days. and a trip down memory lane about wendy’s days ensued.

gaynor walks in. she looks so fresh, with her hair all layered down unlike the straight one she favored just last christmas. and the yayas were complete again.

kisses flew all over the place. the passing out of gifts continued and i felt ashamed for not finding one. but the yayas being the yayas, we launched into a very relaxed conversation about the baby again and the coming wedding.

cathy

it was time to talk about cathy’s wedding plans. everyone asked if she has the date and the venue set already. cathy remarked that she and farlett had already worked this out. she said there was no fuss needed because the tagaytay thing will not really be a wedding but just a reception party for the bride and the groom. everybody started talking excitedly but cathy held it off. the wedding was gonna take place on a friday anyway in front of a judge. no big deal.

marls asked about her wedding dress and motiff. cathy said she was thinking about gothic. and gump and i laughed. typical of cathy. i protested. gothic is okay but please don’t turn it into a black and white thing. plans were discussed at length, in between very relaxed laughters and giggles and excited flurries.

talks about shinji and some guys on a “do not resuscitate” status followed. and i was really having a very good time. must be the third glass of iced tea i was having and the company of gorgeous women. not that they were all prepped up for glam. these women in front of me, they don’t wear make up. they were just ordinary people out on a quite humid day for lunch with friends. and everyone was shining out.

the subtle looks behind me

i looked around for something sweet we can eat. gaynor was buying coffee after and i wanted to buy the dessert for everyone to go with it. alas, a caucasian guy walks in and orders dessert. he talks to the food attendant and takes the table beside us.

i couldn’t see him but i can sense the way gump subtly touched up her hair in place and jen s preened between her eyelashes. i smiled a little… hormones haven’t changed. but nobody said anything.

starbucks

we transferred next door for coffee. it was already 2pm. with a lot of fuss, we managed to order coffee for “ever”. of course, we got the dessert. happy chatter continued. i was content to sit back and look at the yayas. they noticed my seeming silence and remarked on it. i said i was soaking everything in. jen s asked if i would do the synopsis. i said i might. it’s been a long time since i really wrote something about the yayas and jen s has been taking her cudgels against me for it. i smiled. yes, everything can be soaked in… and more…

american quilt

the bond between the yayas started even before sandra bullock’s movie, the divine secrets of the yaya sisterhood, hit the theaters. it started way back in college, but was solidified only when we had our pictures taken together during the graduation. that was when we really realized we were good friends.

the bond was reinforced by a lot of movies and sundae’s at wendy’s seen and taken together. including winona ryder’s movie, how to make an american quilt.

gaynor is our natural leader. this is something we really haven’t voiced out but she is, in more ways than one. as i sat there, with the yayas and my thoughts, i remembered one very important lesson passed on by gaynor to me at a time i was facing a very tough decision. choose a man who will stand up for you. what i learned on my own is that there can be more than one man who may be more than willing to stand up for you. it all depends on the amount of time you both have in your hands.

cathy is the sensible intellectual, albeit eccentric most of the time. and the best thing about her is that she doesn’t care. you just take her for it and love her all the more for it. cathy had always been my rational perspective whenever i need one, especially when i found myself on the verge of a midlife crisis a year ago.

marlyn is our sensible planner. the charming one. the one with the highest level of details when it comes to planning everything out with her life. i sat across her during lunch. and i could tell how much fight had gone off her but she’s still there, hanging tough. probably more content with her life with papa d around.

if i would be asked to describe her, i’d say jen s is my own barbara streisand. she is the funny girl who needs to see the movie, the mirror has two faces. in that movie, barbara plays the supportive sister/daughter. dig in the movie, jen, and see what i mean. i know you will be reading this. go through that scene where she has a confrontation with her mother. i’ve told you about this a dozen times already. dig in. you’ll see there’s more of you than you see, my friend.

nharls is my bestfriend after azel. she picked me up actually when i got lost in college. and she had been that critical side of myself that never holds back. i’m always afraid of her sharp tongue. but nharls is the softest person i know. and she is better than i am at understanding women’s issues. and she is better than i am at fighting for women’s issues. she is my drew barrymore in that movie, ever after.

that leaves the presently at a loss girl, jenny gump. every witty, ever posh. and she has a phd to boot. she was my room mate in ipil and she experienced her first christmas with my family after college. gump is, and will always be, that level-headed girl among the yayas when it comes to love and relationships.

in the american quilt, there was a question posted by winona ryder’s character. “if you were to choose between spending your whole life between a friend and the one you love, who would you choose?”

women’s lives have been intertwined by the many activities and experiences they go through together. they tell their stories in various ways.

my friends, the yayas of PA96, we tell our stories in these get togethers we’ve been having for more than a decade already. a lot of them i avoided. some, they missed. still, we were there together.

we went through so much of our pains together…

and we had chopping boards and endless gifts to prove it.

until the wedding and the arian party, yayas…

angel stuff

2009-02-28T09:32:00.001-08:00

she sits comfortably in her chair, her eyes rapt. i sit quietly in a corner, my hands making sweet melodies on my laptop.
"mommy, i know how to play the game now. i used the help tool."
i smile at her. "well, that's why it's there. you see now what a little patience can do?"
i begin to sing an old song to her in the tune of mary had a little lamb. "patience means you have to wait, have to wait. patience means you have to wait.."
she smiles sheepishly but cuts me off. "eeeiiii, mommy, please stop singing it to me."
i smile indulgently at her, knowing i have already made my point.
she goes back at her game and i go back to mine.
after a very long pause, she blurts out, "mommy, my dinosaur knows how to use the loo."
i smiled again in amusement. how many nine-year old kids who are not britons do you know who uses the word "loo"?
"eeeeoooowww!" i responded to her. "is your dinosaur trying to turn the whole dino park into one big loo?"
"of course not, silly mommy. it has its own loo."
then she goes back to playing. and i go back to playing too.
"mommy, what do you think i should get for my dinosaur? a hat, a shirt or a bag?"
i think it over. "maybe a shirt to keep it warm?"
"yes, i think so too, mommy."
long pause again.
"i think it's way past your bedtime. please shutdown, baby. we still have to go to the family lunch tomorrow." i called out to her.
she closes her own laptop. then she lies down beside me.
"mommy, do you know what my dinosaur's name is?"
"tell me, please."
"angel."
i laugh. and she laughs too...

Perfect Sunsets... and full moons

2009-02-25T07:11:00.000-08:00

Irish beckons to me yet again... It's easy enough to let her blog pass... but that was never the case between blogging friends.

She battles with her demons. I was there to share the fresh strawberries there. Probably, some of the rains. Most definitely, the runs.

Irish and I know that running away never solved anything. If it did, why would we be both back in the very place we tried to escape from? Ah, if only we can lose ourselves with the wind, we would be free as kites.

But then, the breeze would never blow in just one direction. It changes. What is constant is the ebb and flow of the tides. And the taste of tea, shared with friends. Warming us, even as winter settles in both of our hearts.

How many times did we look at the sunset?

There was one time, down at Schev. We lost ourselves in our reveries. But that time has passed. Still at another time, in Subic. When we were reminsicing about what it was like to be young.

I cannot take away her pain. I, too, have my own. Children warriors, we're not supposed to survive anything. Except our very own wills.

Irish fights for her cases. Sometimes, I feel like she's on the road to a losing battle. I admire her though. She knows how to fight for people. If only... people who matter to her can fight for her too.

A wish that echoes the same beat in my heart. If only people I loved could have fought for me the same way she does.

The road is paved. Many things have been carved into stone. The path for Irish is still unwinding. For me, there is no going back. I can try to look for her along the way. But even I am not a good role model for her.

It's probably simpler if we just sit by the full moon. Admiring its beauty. Gasping and marveling at it. The full moon eases both of our pains. It cloaks us from the darkness of our thoughts.

We can both write. Of Federer, and teas and strawberries and bikes and little things. We both cannot hide from what we both run away from.

She still has a choice. My choice was already made. A long time ago...

There cannot be any room for regret. There is only a need to move forward. And perhaps, in between movements, a bottle of cheap wine to make us laugh.

To Irish. For moonlights and Moon Rivers...

In Search of One

2009-02-24T21:13:00.000-08:00

Perspective. Where do I find it these days when I need one?

There’s this thing gnawing at me. A thing I do not want to know or define. For reasons my own. For reasons I am not ready yet.

If only I can find The Cure. They went out of mod years ago. They sing of dreaming better lives and imaginary grace between my ears at this time of the night. At least, they can dare to stop the world and see the difference where it’s getting better all the time.

Actually, I’m hedging. I’m procrastinating. The future is no longer mine to own as I did ten years ago. Budi’s comment all the way from Indonesia tells me to reach for the stars. I wish I am as upbeat as he is. Well, that is typical of the Budi I know. He never did stop from reaching for the stars even as he struggled with his research paper and I was all ready to throw everything out in the air and start from scratch.

Noli is out of commission. My bestfriend has called me today and I missed it. I could have called back, I guess. But I don’t think I’m ready yet to talk to him. He has issues these days and I have no way of helping him. I wish I could do something about his predicament but the most I can do is listen. I don’t even have perspective to offer him today. Of course, there is always the probability that he is sensing again that something is up and amiss with me, with the way I have been silent lately. He isn’t my best friend for nothing, after all. He usually “senses” me out even miles or continents away. His uncanny instinct that I am running away from my issues and his habit of cornering me so I could force myself to deal with them are notorious. Noli senses that my life can be in disarray even without me telling him. And I thought I had ESP.

Still, I need to go back to the initial problem. Where is perspective when I need it? Noli has already assured me I had it three weeks back. Now, I am not sure. Three weeks can change a lot.

Cold-blooded rationality was never my forte. But decisions made years and years ago has a nasty habit of creeping back. I thought my decision to control my life gave me the right to own my perspective. Now it seems to me that perspective is something I cannot own. It’s something that allows me to see from the eyes of other people.

And I need perspective. Just so I can assure myself that my world is not spinning out.

Finding Autumn

2009-02-10T17:13:00.000-08:00

10.02.08
Davao Eden Nature Park

A relaxing morning in Davao’s Eden Nature Park. I am already freshly showered and dressed, waiting for my roomies to finish theirs so we can go up to the resto and have breakfast. I am sitting here by the foyer, looking at glorious sunshine filtering through very tall trees. Morning music fills the air, thanks to those cicadas and I-don’t-know-what-they are called insects making their early noises. Every now and then, yellow and brown leaves slowly plummet down to the ground, soon to be nourishment for the earth. No signs of life or movement coming from the cottage ahead. You can stay here and forget the rest of the world exists after all. No telephone calls to disturb you unless it’s your cellphone ringing. How this part of the world sees the bigger world, I don’t know. It sits here just like a maiden from the olden times, waiting for a straggler to stumble by, discover its beauty and hope to God they return for her to fulfill promises made in the middle of the night. Until the mist is shattered by the sound of basketball hitting the cemented ground somewhere…

Yonder is where we’ll have part 2 of the corpcomm sessions. ‘Tis a place which reconnected me yesterday to a distant part of my memory, something I quickly forgot for some painful reason. In front of the session hall stood a playground. Several zip flights on the right. Kids scrambling around for one. My nostrils automatically sought out particular smells which should have been pervading the air by now. But my senses felt only loss. A memory of Irish, Rommel, Herni and me in Schev suddenly appears. We were taking pictures of kids in the playground of Schev. Irish held hostage one of the zip flights, easily sliding up and down with her light weight. I followed and no surprise there, I stopped in the middle of the zip and lost momentum to go up the other side because I was too heavy. Rommel was taking pictures and Herni tried to pull me up. We were happy as kids once again.

On the left stood a set of slides, swings and other structures meant to give enjoyment to kids. Unbidden, the image of a laughing Amada popped up. Polin was there, holding Angela safe. Agnes and Jason watching in amusement. It was an afternoon spent in Breda with the De Joode kids. Carefree autumn. A holiday from the pressures of life. And I wished suddenly for autumn to come back…

Don’t let anybody tell you who you are
It’s okay to let go, you’re like a shooting star
Remember all you wish for
Believe they will be true
You will never find yourself anywhere else
So find yourself in you…

- Hannah Montanna, Find Yourself in You

Federer, Infanticipation, & that Rotting Chicken

2009-01-26T19:40:00.000-08:00

Friday madness. Where did the day of Friday madness go? There are one hundred fifty one (yes, 151) resumes sitting on my desk waiting for me to kill them one by one. Intel has announced closure of operations and massive lay offs in gigantic proportions loom in the papers. That’s only a few days after Barack’s historic inauguration.

But yeah. The signs have been there as early as November, when I started interviewing engineers from Texas Instruments. It continued on in December last year when I started getting a lot of applications from former BPOs and call center employees.

Yep. Life goes on. We manage with this kind of outlook by looking at resumes of people looking out for jobs. It helps that after going through these resumes and have cut them down to 10 possible candidates for pre-screening, I can talk to family members and friends who bug me about how their interviews went also.

Then I see I go online and she says, Go Federer! Wow! The rush of excitement hits me. I can almost imagine Federer running down with intent concentration to hit the ball. And I think to myself, it would be good to spend a day along the banks of Lake Geneva, reading Paulo Coelho again and idling in the sun. “But you’re so far away…” so Carole King croons behind my ears.

A yahoo mail notification pops out. Nharleen is infanticipating for the second time. Yahoo indeed! And she wasn’t even aware that she was pregnant until she thought she had sore throat and the doctors were telling her that there’s nothing wrong with her. Immediately I thought that this should be a good excuse to celebrate. A vision of the cosy resto bar two streets parallel to Benavides comes to my mind. I went there last year just a few days before Christmas to pick up a bottle of wine – a 2005 Shiraz. I had taken a look at their menu and saw they had beef carpaccio. I sigh. Amsterdam on a cold January day seems a thousand years ago. I wish I had someone to buzz or call who is just ten minutes away. I need a drink.

I tells me about patience when waiting for a job. I tell her I know somebody who needs to exercise more patience. And that somebody also has a lot of expectations from people around her, it becomes scary. Scary because when she becomes disappointed, she watches for the rain. Then the conversation heats up. She tells me she’s not like that. Yeah, she just waits for beer or wine. Then she reminds me, oh don’t forget about crackers and cheese.

Amazing how a thousand memories long buried are resurrected by crackers and cheese. I have altogether forgotten about those crackers which Sandy - that sweet, blonde Dutch bartender at ISS- serves me whenever I climb up on a chair beside her bar at ISS. Those crackers and the cheese with magnificent herbs bring me to life. Throw in some red wine or Drommelsch and I’m good. The red wine brings the glow back into my cheeks and I am a happy sot. Never waste the dreary Dutch weather on thinking about rains. There’s always good cheese, strong and old mustard which I love to hate and the bitter-sweet taste of the wine to make me feel happy enough to throw a dart or two. Put in more people in the bar, especially on a Thursday night, and it’s happiness all around. I and I look forward to these, other than her rains.

Happiness, of course, do not come simply in crackers and cheese. There’s always laughter with friends. A walk on a cold wintry day along Queen’s garden, with Nancy talking beside me or just simply being silent. And what a cold day that was for both us as we tried to lose ourselves into our readings. A moment away from the puddles of our minds.

I heave another sigh. Nancy and I were not the only ones who lost ourselves during the transition from winter to spring. There was that lunch with Sahar by that deli around the corner beside Prinsbaar. When we sat around enjoying cold sandwiches on a cold weather. Discussing issues but never discussing our issues. We all respected each other for that. There we sat. All three women who can be women of considerable strength. And we were as vulnerable with our thoughts sitting around in the deli but managing to be tough enough like that tough bread we ate.
And then the reminder of winter lost me back along the quiet streets of Amsterdam. I was busily chatting with Ken who came for a visit. Ken, you poof. Carpaccio was great and the Vietnamese food behind the streets of the red light district. The sweet aroma of marijuana pervading in the streets of Amsterdam and my unquiet thoughts as we tried talking about things I cannot now remember.

A sense of peace came to me as I gazed down at Amsterdam from the rooftop of the Hilton hotel while munching on my breakfast. It was then that I figured out what I had set out to do in the Netherlands. It was then the enormity of the choices I will make weighed down on me. It was then that I knew that inasmuch as I had learned to love the cold, cold country, I needed to get back to where I came from.

I knew that even as I sat gazing at the sunset from Seinpost rooftop. Or just lying around by the sand along Schev Beach, waiting for the fireworks to come as Ayanda and Pem chattered happily or as I heard Dina marvel over the sound of the waves. Even as I enjoyed the company of Adrianus, Kazuyo, Avi, Nur, Herni, Endah, Wira, Budi and the Indonesians. Even as I sat inside the tram just going around the city of Hague and discovering for myself that I can be alone and still be as wretched as in the company of friends.

But I will always remember the fun of being around the Indonesians, driving down our bikes to Delft, walking around Centrum or shopping with them along Brugge, Vienna and Prague. I am disconnected with this kind of life. Or so I thought.

Until I reminded me about that rotting chicken. Oh, that was really one of the highlights of having I for a roomie. How that incident really brought sunshine to my life in the Netherlands. She made a trip to Konmar. She was barely a week in Bazarlaan 25. And already she was wreaking havoc in my grey mornings and nites. On a fine morning, I woke up to smell something really suspicious from my ref. As a result, I cleaned out all my old cheese inside, including the fresh ones that I really liked. Still, the strong odor pervaded my nostrils. I left for school hoping that the clean up will eliminate the smell. Alas, I returned, tired and weary and ultra bored from my class. Still the smell pervades the air. I start hunting it down. Lo and behold! Inside the vegetable bin calmly sat a harmless chicken. I gets back inside the room and I asked her if she put chicken inside the bin. Nonchalantly and calmly as a child who trusts her mother will not hurt her, she said yes. I didn’t know whether I should spank her as a recalcitrant child or laugh. Laughter won. I told her you don’t put chicken inside the bin. You freeze it. I being I, she said she didn’t know that you were supposed to freeze chicken. She’s only a lawyer by profession. How she managed to pass the bar, I didn’t know. I suppose, that’s why lawyers lord over courtrooms and not kitchens. Leave the kitchen and the ref to the cooks and chefs. Never let a lawyer near a kitchen and they start filling up the ref with strange odors. Chicken ended up in bundles of plastic bags and inside the garbage can. I prayed that nobody died from smelling that rotting chicken afterwards. Certainly not that yummy looking caretaker that a lot of women in the ISS have been swooning about.

So I managed to lift me up from one of my bad moods today. But still, the resumes here clamor for my attention. It takes a lot from me to go over them, knowing these are people hoping to find a job or a better opportunity. I only need one for the position.

So where is this all leading to? These rumbling thoughts on a Friday filled with melancholia and madness? It all leads to freedom from toil and stress. To Rhi-rhi dances, Iskox hugs, Boo-boo Abu clinging. To a whining girl who pesters me about a little bear named Angel who chose to stay in Las Pinas over the New Year. To a bedroom under construction for months on end now. To a husband who wishes for hot soup with lots of meat on a sunny and humid day. To the batcave and to friends from long ago years of battling my demons at San Beda. To the weekend and another week of staying cooped up on my desk. And to another round of being on the road up north. Up to Highway 33, looking over my shoulder when I gazed at a blue moon when I spent my birthday on the road last December. Probably, another day to laugh. Another day, a different place. A different time. A different kind of drink.

I sure hope the road does not come to own me. There’s so many dreams I’ve yet to find… But you’re so far away…

Cheers!

A week without color

2008-11-13T01:43:00.001-08:00

and the roads stretch up in darkness
and i sit here in silence
and i watch as pale mists descend from mountains
and still darkness can only turn into grey
and the wheels kept on turning
and i continue to move with the wind
and the mountains sit unmoving
and i turn to sleep for rest
and the trees are cold from the rain
and they offer me no solace
and i am not supposed to blend in with them
and i turn to east for direction
and the moon only casts me its shadow
and silhouettes lose their way
and what a dear price this is to pay…