The tongue has grown a bit weary of drawling Tagalog that I guess the time has come to go home... at least for a while. But before I finally say goodbye to Luzon, allow me to freeze it in a moment and write this:
Places
Best City: Baguio
Best Mall: SM City Baguio, Upper Session Road
Worst Mall: SM North Edsa, Manila (when I was there, wala'y aircon!)
Best Viewing Site: Mines View Park, Baguio City
Best Shopping Sites: Mines View Park and Palengke in Baguio City
Best School Visited: U.P. Diliman, Quezon City
Best Accomodation: Tita Leonor's House in Mayapyap Sur, Cabanatuan City (truth to tell, she'll give any five star hotel a run for their money)
Cheapest Hotel: Bambino's Transient House in Tarlac City
Most Expensive Hotel: Munsayac Inn, Baguio City
Strangest-Yet-Educational Place: BED and the surrounding gay town in Malate, Manila
Biggest Barangay: U.P. Village, Quezon City (it took us 15-30 mins to find fritz's house)
Rides
Best Drive: During twilight, speeding down North Expressway in Ian's Revo (coming from Cabanatuan going to Manila) , simply dazzled by the sunset
Most Remarkable Land Transpo: Taxis in Baguio ( P20 ra flagdown and P1 ang patak ;))
Worst (read: Shameless) Drivers: Manila taxi drivers, though Tarlac's tricycle drivers come a close second
Best Bus: Victory Liner
Best Airport: Still Mactan-Cebu airport, Manila's Centennial is spacious but almost empty
Longest Drive: 12-hour ride in Ian's Revo round and round Tarlac and then onto to Cabanatuan, then Manila
Most Expensive Fare: PAL
Food
Best Meal: Max's, Cabanatuan City
Best Coffee: Figaro, SM City Baguio
Best Coffee Shop to Hangout: Mocha Blends, SM City Baguio
Most Visited Food Place: Jollibee (where I get my first meal in almost every new place :))
New Food: N.E.'s Espasol in Cabanatuan, Luzon's specialty I'm told
Best Food: Fishballs, somewhere off the road in Cabanatuan (the best! yumyum)
Cheapest Carenderia: Sugar's, Burgos Ext. in Cabanatuan City ( and the food is yummy too)
Most Drank Alcoholic Beverage: San Mig Strong Ice
Most Expensive Meal: Ninoy Aquino International Airport, Manila
People
Adventure Buddy: Igat Almera
Most Memorable New Friends: Ian and Vher
Most Interesting People: Fritz and Louie
Fun
Best Entertainment: A Midsummer Night's Dream in Makati City
Best Buys: Silver hoop earrings & knitted blouses in Mines View, Baguio
Most Unforgettable Gimik Night: Videoke with Al, Ian and Vher with the accompaniment of Strong Ice and San Mig Light and lotsa lotsa chips at our Richville Hotel room in Tarlac City
Longest Gimik Night: Malate, going home at 5 AM
Moments
Most Scary: Going down from Baguio City to Tarlac in the wake of the storm
Most Amazing Sight: The flooding in Tarlac
Best Adventure: Driving around Tarlac just to get to Luisita Starbucks (15-20 mins away normally from hotel) despite the knee-deep, even waist-high, floods
Most Poignant/Romantic: Boat ride in Burnham Park while drizzling
Best Air: Baguio-- fog, fog, I love the fog! Biting cold galore
Worst Weather: Humid, humid Manila
Best Blooper: Slipping down the steps at Wright Park, Baguio
Funniest: Watching smoke come out from the mouth due to the cold air while talking in SM City Baguio
Best Deed: Helping Al set up Lexis' room for a romantic anniversary moment
Most Peaceful Tambay Moment: Dencio's, Camp John Hay
Most Dizzying: 2-hour search for a place to stay in Baguio
Weirdest New Info: There's palaka-fishing in Tarlac. They normally eat them like chicken, it's almost a specialty. Eeew!
Note: All these are limited to my own 2-week field of experience.
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
Monday, August 30, 2004
A Midsummer Night's Dream in Manila
"The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth,
from earth to heaven;
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes,
and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name."
---- Theseus, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 5, Scene 1
When I got back to Manila, I was in for quite a treat. Not only did I get to hang out with my well-missed beautiful gay cousins, Louie (from Davao) and Fritz (also from Davao, but now our host in Manila), I had the chance to see the much talked about play, A Midsummer Night's Dream at the RCBC Theatre in Makati City.
Tickets to the play cost around P2000 but since Fritz was dancing, Louie and I got in for free. So there we were at the orchestra side, sitting with Lara Fabregas and other big shots in Manila, transported to the magical forest world of Shakespeare's mind. And boy was I impressed!
The adorable, playful yet misguided Puck was played by Epi Cuizon. He was great, I didn't realize he was a serious thespian. It's said that Mylene Dizon also used to alternate for the role but then she quit when she got pregnant-- which was actually a good thing, Fritz said. Mylene was quite terrible for such a crucial role especially when she tended to eat her lines.
Demetrius and Lysander were goodlooking enough and the girls, Helena and Hermia made me laugh. The King Fairy Oberon and Theseus were played by Paolo Fabregas. I didn't recognize him.
And then there was John "Sweet" Lapus and his gang of lost dramatists in the forest almost stealing the show. They were just so funny! The play was cleverly arranged in such a way that there was a story within a story and they kinda adapted part of it to the Filipino setting to make it more palatable probably to the mainstream crowd. But cousin Louie for one, felt the mamang sorbetero was quite overdone.
The Shakespearian dialogue was so lyrical, I was moved. And the set, wow! Lights in greens and blues gave the illusion of a mystical forest. Someday, I hope to learn how to do that-- mixing and blending lights for effect. And then there were Puck, the King and Queen fairies in harnesses, they were practically flying all over the place. I just couldn't take my eyes off the stage.
But what I love best about it were the dances by the fairies/soldiers. And of course, my cousin Fritz was simply the best ;p I realized I underestimated his talent. I didn't know he could split, bend and curl that way with so much grace, control and passion.
Fritz used to be a member of the award-winning UP Pep Squad. He was among the first pep squad flown to the 2002 Asian Games in Korea. He was also chosen as a delegate to compete in Sports Aerobics in the 2003 SEA Games in Vietnam and is now a member of the Philippine Team. Right now he's living his passion -- he is an instructor at Fitness First by day and dances in plays at night. He's quite an inspiration. So watch out, world, you've yet to see his name in lights. Hehe
The play is running till September. They're halfway their designated 50 performances. The show is directed by Ricardo Abad with selected translations by Rolando Tinio, a respected Filipino playwright. The producer, Steven Uy, was quite a surprise-- he's so young. I was told he's made his million at such a young age too. I like him especially for sharing or investing part of it to the theater world.
A Midsummer Night's Dream is quite an experience and one I doubt I'll forget. It made me realize that there is still so much I can learn about theater, the craft, the production, the artistry. It made me think of magic and possibilities. It challenges me to stretch myself more to make my own dream, how elusive it might be, come true.
To Fritz and Louie, thank you for sharing the dream with me. I miss you guys already.
Doth glance from heaven to earth,
from earth to heaven;
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes,
and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name."
---- Theseus, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 5, Scene 1
When I got back to Manila, I was in for quite a treat. Not only did I get to hang out with my well-missed beautiful gay cousins, Louie (from Davao) and Fritz (also from Davao, but now our host in Manila), I had the chance to see the much talked about play, A Midsummer Night's Dream at the RCBC Theatre in Makati City.
Tickets to the play cost around P2000 but since Fritz was dancing, Louie and I got in for free. So there we were at the orchestra side, sitting with Lara Fabregas and other big shots in Manila, transported to the magical forest world of Shakespeare's mind. And boy was I impressed!
The adorable, playful yet misguided Puck was played by Epi Cuizon. He was great, I didn't realize he was a serious thespian. It's said that Mylene Dizon also used to alternate for the role but then she quit when she got pregnant-- which was actually a good thing, Fritz said. Mylene was quite terrible for such a crucial role especially when she tended to eat her lines.
Demetrius and Lysander were goodlooking enough and the girls, Helena and Hermia made me laugh. The King Fairy Oberon and Theseus were played by Paolo Fabregas. I didn't recognize him.
And then there was John "Sweet" Lapus and his gang of lost dramatists in the forest almost stealing the show. They were just so funny! The play was cleverly arranged in such a way that there was a story within a story and they kinda adapted part of it to the Filipino setting to make it more palatable probably to the mainstream crowd. But cousin Louie for one, felt the mamang sorbetero was quite overdone.
The Shakespearian dialogue was so lyrical, I was moved. And the set, wow! Lights in greens and blues gave the illusion of a mystical forest. Someday, I hope to learn how to do that-- mixing and blending lights for effect. And then there were Puck, the King and Queen fairies in harnesses, they were practically flying all over the place. I just couldn't take my eyes off the stage.
But what I love best about it were the dances by the fairies/soldiers. And of course, my cousin Fritz was simply the best ;p I realized I underestimated his talent. I didn't know he could split, bend and curl that way with so much grace, control and passion.
Fritz used to be a member of the award-winning UP Pep Squad. He was among the first pep squad flown to the 2002 Asian Games in Korea. He was also chosen as a delegate to compete in Sports Aerobics in the 2003 SEA Games in Vietnam and is now a member of the Philippine Team. Right now he's living his passion -- he is an instructor at Fitness First by day and dances in plays at night. He's quite an inspiration. So watch out, world, you've yet to see his name in lights. Hehe
The play is running till September. They're halfway their designated 50 performances. The show is directed by Ricardo Abad with selected translations by Rolando Tinio, a respected Filipino playwright. The producer, Steven Uy, was quite a surprise-- he's so young. I was told he's made his million at such a young age too. I like him especially for sharing or investing part of it to the theater world.
A Midsummer Night's Dream is quite an experience and one I doubt I'll forget. It made me realize that there is still so much I can learn about theater, the craft, the production, the artistry. It made me think of magic and possibilities. It challenges me to stretch myself more to make my own dream, how elusive it might be, come true.
To Fritz and Louie, thank you for sharing the dream with me. I miss you guys already.
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Baguio, The City of Pines
God, I just love Baguio! In fact, I like it so much that I'm seriously thinking about relocating here. Cebu will always be home but I gotta say that among the cities I've been to, Baguio is simply the best.
Everything about it suits me well-- the nippy weather, the soothing sight and smell of countless pine trees, the grandiose mountains, the biting cold, and even the seemingly endless rain. Its truly clean and green all around. And apparently, there's not a single straight or flat road here. I always feel like I'm mountain climbing on paved roads. Up and down, round and round it goes all the way to the mountain top.
Accomodation
After a dizzying 2-hour search for a suitable place to stay, Almera and I finally settled in Munsayac Inn along Leonard Wood Road. It's near the popular Teachers Camp, and about 5 minutes away from SM City. The hotels here are quite expensive, even now when it's rainy and not the tourist season. They range from 800-2000. Less than that and the place is either fully-booked or something that looks 'horror'.
Munsayac charges P800 per day for a room good for two. Its rooms are spacious, carpeted, with hot and cold water, cable TV, and a nice view of the street and pine trees beyond. We like it because it's relatively quiet and far from the crowded areas in the city, yet near enough SM so you feel safe going there anytime. The place also has its own restaurant and souvenir shop filled with handcrafted items.
There are also transient houses here though which charge about 500 per room or 250 per bed space. But then, the CR is common and there's no TV.
Sights
Baguio is filled with parks that are truly breathtaking. They're almost always enveloped by fog (even during daytime) that renders a mystical ambience all around.
We ate some spicy fishballs and took a romantic boat ride at Burnham Park while it was drizzling. God, it was just so beautiful I felt I could float there forever. Then there's Botanical Garden near our place that I'm pretty sure my mom would go gaga over.
On the third day, Almera had to go down to Cabanatuan to work, but I couldn't leave Baguio yet, so I opted to stay behind. And so I went to see Mines View Park on my own. Even on a Monday, there were a lot of tourists around. I went to the viewing site and I was speechless. I felt like I was in heaven, riding on a cloud, looking down at the refreshing and lovely panorama of Baguio City. The majestic mountains that surround make you feel regal too. I got my picture taken with one of the tourists, it was funny. And then I sat there for a long time. I was so humbled by what lay before me that I just prayed and dreamed. Alvin texted me not to forget to make a wish at Mines Views' wishing well. And so I did. There were also pretty ponies around, not for horsebackriding, mind you, but for picture taking. They charge about P10 per picture, imagine.
I went inside the famous gates of Mansion House but the house itself was off limits. And so I just took a stroll down Wright Park directly across it, a popular site for horsebackriding. It was there I slipped down the mossy steps, it was almost horrible were it not for a gracious stall owner who helped me up.
Camp John Hay is surprisingly big and wide but not completely done yet. The rain stopped me from going to Liberty Park, where the comic cemetery of negativity lies. So I just ate and stayed at Dencio's restobar for awhile and watched the rain and pine trees.
I would have also wanted also to go up the steps of Lourdes Grotto near or along Naguilan Road but after the Wright Park incident, I wasn't willing to risk it in the rain.
Shopping
The best place to go shopping here is the palengke where the ukay-ukays abound. I was really delighted when we went there because I found the place to be clean. I think it's clean wherever you go here. In fact, at the various tourist spots, signposts say"Clean Comfort Rooms"and when we checked it out, voila!, it really is.
Anyway, my friend Almera and I went crazy over the ukay. It was really, really cheap and the stuff are good. You can buy great pants for as low as P70 and lovely blouses at 30-50 pesos. My friend insisted that we could not possibly leave Baguio without eating strawberries, so we bought some in the market and some cream and ate them at the hotel. I found that I do not like strawberries that much after all. But the peanut butter was good. It melts in your mouth.
In Mines View, knitted blouses for P50 are a-plenty. I had fun haggling for baby Allen's knitted cap and knitted shoes.
Here in Baguio, aside from knitted items, there's silver galore everywhere-- what with the mines and all. For best buys, Ibay's Silver Shop is popular but slightly more expensive than the others.
SM City Baguio
This is definitely the best mall I've been in so far. Like their taxis, it uses no aircon (open air!), and yet, it's more likely colder than SM City Cebu. It's always fogging here, day time or night. In fact, on our first night, Al suddenly squealed, "Gosh, there's smoke coming from your mouth!" I looked at her, and alas, saw smoke coming from her own mouth too. We've seen it on TV but this was the first time we experienced it for real. Yes, yes, we were a couple of ignoys. And there on the railing-cum-viewing-deck, with a mountain of city lights before us, we were laughing like loons, and holding tight to our jackets.
Located in Upper Session Road, SM City sits grandly on top of a hill or mountain and offers a great view of the city. There are coffee shops in all the right spots-- Figaro, Seattle's Best, Mocha Blends, Starbucks -- and there are also a scatter of tea shops.
Being at SM City Baguio is just like chillin' out at Tops, Cebu, with the added convenience of what a mall offers.
Schools
Being a true-blue UPian, I could not resist the call of the oblation so I visited UP Baguio despite the rain. Located in North Drive, it's far from the congested areas in the city so it was quite peaceful. It's bigger than it first looked. The buildings look like the newly-erected AS building in Cebu -- all white and stone. Again, there's a lot of fog and in the back part, more pine trees. Along with jackets and umbrellas, wearing slippers seem to be the norm and the practical thing to do.
I asked about their post-grad studies and found out that they offer Languages and Literature. There is no college of law though. All in all, it's got possibilities.
I meant to make my next stop in the University of Baguio-- just to compare. But the taxi driver convinced me that the school is not Grade A, that they even accept dropouts of the better schools, and that some students can even buy their grades. And so, after seeing the horde of students by the gate, I followed the driver's advice and told him to bypass the school and go straight to St. Louis University.
St. Louis University is said to be the best school in Baguio, even better than UP, some people say. But for sure, I wasn't impressed when I saw it. Maybe I'm just biased, but I guess I'll always remember it as the school with the pain-in-the-ass guards, snotty school officials, slippery stairs, and ugly old buildings along the very congested Bonifacio extension road.
The People & the City
I've got to say Baguio is a place of goodlukin' people. From drivers, tinderos, and other locals, there are always cuties around. I figure it must be the air. The biting cold really makes your skin glow. And I didn't know that the sight of men carrying umbrellas could be so natural and sexy at the same time. hahaha!
Most of the people here speak tagalog. Though there's a scatter of Ilocano and the Igorots have their own dialects. But practically everyone here speaks Tagalog.
Their taxis, as i've said, is non-aircon so it's cheaper. Flagdown for big and small taxis alike is only 20 and the patak is P1. So go taxi galore. It's better too especially when there are slopes to climb where some jeepneys no longer pass by. Baguio's jeepneys are a bit frustrating, too. They've got no sign cards. They just print the routes on the side and that's it. No specifics to guide you along.
Baguio is a place where it's colder out in the streets than inside any building. You'll go numb if you're caught without a jacket especially at night. One time, Al and I walked the street towards Botanical Garden at 12 noon under the sun. Still, she was wearing a jacket. It's that cold.
One taxi driver said were it not for the students and tourists who flock to the city, Baguio won't survive. They're the ones keeping the businesses alive, he said. But apparently, commercialism has its price too. Another kind driver warned us to be careful for Baguio is no longer as safe as it used to be. There are cases of pickpockets already, he said. And as I looked out the window, I couldn't help but worry too over the many vehicles that are not quite environment-friendly. You can see them especially in the crowded areas of Abanao Street and Session Road. There, traffic is so heavy and the air blended with black smoke, it almost seems like Manila and downtown Cebu.
Still , Baguio is better than most. It's the first city outside Cebu where I feel safe. And definitely, I've had some of my best moments here. It opened to me a world I didn't know existed in this country.
I've been here for five days now. I'd have wanted to stay longer, but there's a family dinner in Manila that can't wait (or so my couzin Fritz tells me) and so I had to go down tomorrow.
Alvin is probably the fifth person to ask me for pictures on Baguio. But alas, we've got no camera. I always bring one with me when I travel, but this time, I didn't and when I saw the sights, boy I regretted it so much, it was depressing. But then after awhile, I thought about it and figured it's better this way.
For frankly? I doubt an automatic camera can really shoot the essence of the place. The camera prints won't do it justice. You've got to see, smell, taste, and feel Baguio. That's how you capture a truly lovely memory that I know in my case, will forever be etched in my mind and soul.
Everything about it suits me well-- the nippy weather, the soothing sight and smell of countless pine trees, the grandiose mountains, the biting cold, and even the seemingly endless rain. Its truly clean and green all around. And apparently, there's not a single straight or flat road here. I always feel like I'm mountain climbing on paved roads. Up and down, round and round it goes all the way to the mountain top.
Accomodation
After a dizzying 2-hour search for a suitable place to stay, Almera and I finally settled in Munsayac Inn along Leonard Wood Road. It's near the popular Teachers Camp, and about 5 minutes away from SM City. The hotels here are quite expensive, even now when it's rainy and not the tourist season. They range from 800-2000. Less than that and the place is either fully-booked or something that looks 'horror'.
Munsayac charges P800 per day for a room good for two. Its rooms are spacious, carpeted, with hot and cold water, cable TV, and a nice view of the street and pine trees beyond. We like it because it's relatively quiet and far from the crowded areas in the city, yet near enough SM so you feel safe going there anytime. The place also has its own restaurant and souvenir shop filled with handcrafted items.
There are also transient houses here though which charge about 500 per room or 250 per bed space. But then, the CR is common and there's no TV.
Sights
Baguio is filled with parks that are truly breathtaking. They're almost always enveloped by fog (even during daytime) that renders a mystical ambience all around.
We ate some spicy fishballs and took a romantic boat ride at Burnham Park while it was drizzling. God, it was just so beautiful I felt I could float there forever. Then there's Botanical Garden near our place that I'm pretty sure my mom would go gaga over.
On the third day, Almera had to go down to Cabanatuan to work, but I couldn't leave Baguio yet, so I opted to stay behind. And so I went to see Mines View Park on my own. Even on a Monday, there were a lot of tourists around. I went to the viewing site and I was speechless. I felt like I was in heaven, riding on a cloud, looking down at the refreshing and lovely panorama of Baguio City. The majestic mountains that surround make you feel regal too. I got my picture taken with one of the tourists, it was funny. And then I sat there for a long time. I was so humbled by what lay before me that I just prayed and dreamed. Alvin texted me not to forget to make a wish at Mines Views' wishing well. And so I did. There were also pretty ponies around, not for horsebackriding, mind you, but for picture taking. They charge about P10 per picture, imagine.
I went inside the famous gates of Mansion House but the house itself was off limits. And so I just took a stroll down Wright Park directly across it, a popular site for horsebackriding. It was there I slipped down the mossy steps, it was almost horrible were it not for a gracious stall owner who helped me up.
Camp John Hay is surprisingly big and wide but not completely done yet. The rain stopped me from going to Liberty Park, where the comic cemetery of negativity lies. So I just ate and stayed at Dencio's restobar for awhile and watched the rain and pine trees.
I would have also wanted also to go up the steps of Lourdes Grotto near or along Naguilan Road but after the Wright Park incident, I wasn't willing to risk it in the rain.
Shopping
The best place to go shopping here is the palengke where the ukay-ukays abound. I was really delighted when we went there because I found the place to be clean. I think it's clean wherever you go here. In fact, at the various tourist spots, signposts say"Clean Comfort Rooms"and when we checked it out, voila!, it really is.
Anyway, my friend Almera and I went crazy over the ukay. It was really, really cheap and the stuff are good. You can buy great pants for as low as P70 and lovely blouses at 30-50 pesos. My friend insisted that we could not possibly leave Baguio without eating strawberries, so we bought some in the market and some cream and ate them at the hotel. I found that I do not like strawberries that much after all. But the peanut butter was good. It melts in your mouth.
In Mines View, knitted blouses for P50 are a-plenty. I had fun haggling for baby Allen's knitted cap and knitted shoes.
Here in Baguio, aside from knitted items, there's silver galore everywhere-- what with the mines and all. For best buys, Ibay's Silver Shop is popular but slightly more expensive than the others.
SM City Baguio
This is definitely the best mall I've been in so far. Like their taxis, it uses no aircon (open air!), and yet, it's more likely colder than SM City Cebu. It's always fogging here, day time or night. In fact, on our first night, Al suddenly squealed, "Gosh, there's smoke coming from your mouth!" I looked at her, and alas, saw smoke coming from her own mouth too. We've seen it on TV but this was the first time we experienced it for real. Yes, yes, we were a couple of ignoys. And there on the railing-cum-viewing-deck, with a mountain of city lights before us, we were laughing like loons, and holding tight to our jackets.
Located in Upper Session Road, SM City sits grandly on top of a hill or mountain and offers a great view of the city. There are coffee shops in all the right spots-- Figaro, Seattle's Best, Mocha Blends, Starbucks -- and there are also a scatter of tea shops.
Being at SM City Baguio is just like chillin' out at Tops, Cebu, with the added convenience of what a mall offers.
Schools
Being a true-blue UPian, I could not resist the call of the oblation so I visited UP Baguio despite the rain. Located in North Drive, it's far from the congested areas in the city so it was quite peaceful. It's bigger than it first looked. The buildings look like the newly-erected AS building in Cebu -- all white and stone. Again, there's a lot of fog and in the back part, more pine trees. Along with jackets and umbrellas, wearing slippers seem to be the norm and the practical thing to do.
I asked about their post-grad studies and found out that they offer Languages and Literature. There is no college of law though. All in all, it's got possibilities.
I meant to make my next stop in the University of Baguio-- just to compare. But the taxi driver convinced me that the school is not Grade A, that they even accept dropouts of the better schools, and that some students can even buy their grades. And so, after seeing the horde of students by the gate, I followed the driver's advice and told him to bypass the school and go straight to St. Louis University.
St. Louis University is said to be the best school in Baguio, even better than UP, some people say. But for sure, I wasn't impressed when I saw it. Maybe I'm just biased, but I guess I'll always remember it as the school with the pain-in-the-ass guards, snotty school officials, slippery stairs, and ugly old buildings along the very congested Bonifacio extension road.
The People & the City
I've got to say Baguio is a place of goodlukin' people. From drivers, tinderos, and other locals, there are always cuties around. I figure it must be the air. The biting cold really makes your skin glow. And I didn't know that the sight of men carrying umbrellas could be so natural and sexy at the same time. hahaha!
Most of the people here speak tagalog. Though there's a scatter of Ilocano and the Igorots have their own dialects. But practically everyone here speaks Tagalog.
Their taxis, as i've said, is non-aircon so it's cheaper. Flagdown for big and small taxis alike is only 20 and the patak is P1. So go taxi galore. It's better too especially when there are slopes to climb where some jeepneys no longer pass by. Baguio's jeepneys are a bit frustrating, too. They've got no sign cards. They just print the routes on the side and that's it. No specifics to guide you along.
Baguio is a place where it's colder out in the streets than inside any building. You'll go numb if you're caught without a jacket especially at night. One time, Al and I walked the street towards Botanical Garden at 12 noon under the sun. Still, she was wearing a jacket. It's that cold.
One taxi driver said were it not for the students and tourists who flock to the city, Baguio won't survive. They're the ones keeping the businesses alive, he said. But apparently, commercialism has its price too. Another kind driver warned us to be careful for Baguio is no longer as safe as it used to be. There are cases of pickpockets already, he said. And as I looked out the window, I couldn't help but worry too over the many vehicles that are not quite environment-friendly. You can see them especially in the crowded areas of Abanao Street and Session Road. There, traffic is so heavy and the air blended with black smoke, it almost seems like Manila and downtown Cebu.
Still , Baguio is better than most. It's the first city outside Cebu where I feel safe. And definitely, I've had some of my best moments here. It opened to me a world I didn't know existed in this country.
I've been here for five days now. I'd have wanted to stay longer, but there's a family dinner in Manila that can't wait (or so my couzin Fritz tells me) and so I had to go down tomorrow.
Alvin is probably the fifth person to ask me for pictures on Baguio. But alas, we've got no camera. I always bring one with me when I travel, but this time, I didn't and when I saw the sights, boy I regretted it so much, it was depressing. But then after awhile, I thought about it and figured it's better this way.
For frankly? I doubt an automatic camera can really shoot the essence of the place. The camera prints won't do it justice. You've got to see, smell, taste, and feel Baguio. That's how you capture a truly lovely memory that I know in my case, will forever be etched in my mind and soul.
Monday, August 23, 2004
Speechless in Baguio
Cabanatuan -- Pangasinan -- La Union -- Baguio, Benguet
Meaning: V-hire, P170, 4 hours
Stop. Wow. Brrrr..
Meaning: V-hire, P170, 4 hours
Stop. Wow. Brrrr..
Thursday, August 19, 2004
Crossing Cabanatuan
The route from Tarlac to Cabanatuan is a dangerous one, we're told, since NPAs abound in the area. But being young and thirsty for adventure, my friend and I turned a deaf ear, prayed hard, and followed our restless feet. By the time we made our stop in Cabanatuan, we looked at each other and burst out laughing. Without saying a word, and in perfect agreement, we went on to proceed to, where else, but another Jollibee -- a comfort zone.
If Tarlac looks like Roxas City in Panay, then Cabanatuan City-- the capital of Nueva Ecija-- can be likened to Iloilo. It's more spacious, the roads are bigger, and here, the jeepneys compete with the tricycles in number.
Because I was intimidated by the area on my first day, I hesitated to strike out on my own. I figured it would be better to tag along my friend as she worked and made her rounds to get a better view and feel of the place. So for a day, I crossed over Cabanatuan following the footseps of a med rep taking on the various hospital/clinic-routes. I was hardly dressed for it-- you know, the snappy outfit, big bags, and file folder on hand, but I managed to breeze through with a smile and kind talk. The med rep pack reminds me a lot of my internship days in the media. The camaraderie among reps even though they're from different companies, the wait outside the doctor's office, the "coverage", the chikka with the doctors-- all these are reminiscent of news sources and the reporters doing coverage on their different beats.
From Cabanatuan City, we went to travel as far to the northern outskirts -- Talavera, Muñoz, and San Jose. And to the south, there's Sta Rosa. The distance from one stop to the other is just like that from Cebu City to Liloan, or possibly Danao. But then people here seems to think nothing of 1-to-2-hour drives.We traveled via their jeepney equivalent-- which they call Ford or XLT. Two main differences are, the Ford's got a door at the entrance and has glass windows. Laysyo
When you're in a strange town, you discover that drivers are your best friend. What we usually do is that we look for a jeep with an empty front seat to be near enough to charm and pump the driver for details-- routes, nice spots, tips, where to go and not to go, a bit of history of the place, some culture and traditions, what to do and not to do in the place, and a bit of this and that. I know, I know, it's quite a lot, but save for jumping pedestrians on the streets, it seems to be the best place to know what you need to know. So you ask, and ask, and be friendly to the max. Some drivers may not answer you in kind. Some may even make fools out of tourists. But usually, most of them are helpful and would welcome the diversion. And I found out, that Cebuano drivers are even more protective when they know you're also from Cebu or a kababayan.
In Mayapyap Sur, Cabanatuan, I have an aunt who just got back from the states and settled here with her husband. Because she was there for such a long time, I've only seen here once or twice, and her husband never. So basically, I don't really know her that much though I remember her to be warm and kind. And when it's family, my mother tells me that you always have a duty to visit whenever you're in the area, so contact her I did.
Call it crazy but instead of asking to be fetched, I asked my friend if she was game to search for the house on our own even though we're complete strangers to the area. She was. And so we did -- armed with only the barangay name, house no., my aunt's family name. We found it without trouble-- with only the drivers as our guide.
Wow, the house was big and yet only my aunt and uncle lived there. The guest rooms were certainly better than any hotel room in the area or I've been in for that matter. And the food-- yum! We've been staying in my friend's dorm for two nights now but tomorrow, we stay in their home overnight before I say goodbye to Cabanatuan.
One thing weird here in Luzon is the common misconception about Cebuanos. My friend and I used to be taken aback whenever some locals asked us, "Segurado ba kayong you're from Cebu?" We answer, "Of course naman, ba't hindi?" They answer "Eh, ba't wala kayong punto (accent)?" or "Hinihintay ko yong punto nyo pero wala yata." And they really are amazed. Here once again is the power of TV on display. Because the Bisaya people they know from TV are the maids with accents, people automatically assume that we all speak the same. And so we educate them that that isn't always true. But two things people don't argue here are that Cebuanas are "maganda" and that Cebuanos speak good English. Hehe. That we totally agree on 100% (wink)
The people of Cabanatuan speak mostly Tagalog, though it's mixed with Kapampangan and Ilocano. Instead of "Para, mama" , here they mostly say "Tabi lang po". They are basically a polite people. The speak slowly and they call each other Ate, Kuya, Tito, Tita even though they hardly know each other. I was even warned by my friend that if you take out the "'po" in your statements, some would hear it as an insult. So "po" nalang ako nang "po" whenever I talk. I've lost count of the many "po's" I've uttered already since I got here.
On my second day, I felt confident enough to wander around on my own while my friend worked. After my Aunt and Uncle treated us to lunch at Max's -- the most convenient classy restaurant in the city -- I explored N.E. Pacific (?) Mall, the biggest so far I've come to since I got here. I'm happy to see that it looks a bit like Ayala Center Cebu -- though it's smaller with only two floors. And then I discovered National Bookstore and became delirious with joy. The only other mall here is Metrocenter. Haven't been there yet.
Before leaving, my aunt and uncle asked how I'm gonna get back to my friend's dorm on my own. I told them I'll be riding the jeep or tricycle. My uncle chuckled and joked, "Aba, parang taga-Cabanatuan ka na, ha. Alam mo na yata." Nah, it's just that I've learned not be afraid to ask questions and that I believe in the power of celfones. hehe. They were hesitant to leave but I assured them I'd be fine.
I don't know, but ever since I took this trip, I've been a friend to risks. I'm not done with this place yet. I mean to explore more and absorb as much as I can.
And then, on Saturday, we go to Baguio.
If Tarlac looks like Roxas City in Panay, then Cabanatuan City-- the capital of Nueva Ecija-- can be likened to Iloilo. It's more spacious, the roads are bigger, and here, the jeepneys compete with the tricycles in number.
Because I was intimidated by the area on my first day, I hesitated to strike out on my own. I figured it would be better to tag along my friend as she worked and made her rounds to get a better view and feel of the place. So for a day, I crossed over Cabanatuan following the footseps of a med rep taking on the various hospital/clinic-routes. I was hardly dressed for it-- you know, the snappy outfit, big bags, and file folder on hand, but I managed to breeze through with a smile and kind talk. The med rep pack reminds me a lot of my internship days in the media. The camaraderie among reps even though they're from different companies, the wait outside the doctor's office, the "coverage", the chikka with the doctors-- all these are reminiscent of news sources and the reporters doing coverage on their different beats.
From Cabanatuan City, we went to travel as far to the northern outskirts -- Talavera, Muñoz, and San Jose. And to the south, there's Sta Rosa. The distance from one stop to the other is just like that from Cebu City to Liloan, or possibly Danao. But then people here seems to think nothing of 1-to-2-hour drives.We traveled via their jeepney equivalent-- which they call Ford or XLT. Two main differences are, the Ford's got a door at the entrance and has glass windows. Laysyo
When you're in a strange town, you discover that drivers are your best friend. What we usually do is that we look for a jeep with an empty front seat to be near enough to charm and pump the driver for details-- routes, nice spots, tips, where to go and not to go, a bit of history of the place, some culture and traditions, what to do and not to do in the place, and a bit of this and that. I know, I know, it's quite a lot, but save for jumping pedestrians on the streets, it seems to be the best place to know what you need to know. So you ask, and ask, and be friendly to the max. Some drivers may not answer you in kind. Some may even make fools out of tourists. But usually, most of them are helpful and would welcome the diversion. And I found out, that Cebuano drivers are even more protective when they know you're also from Cebu or a kababayan.
In Mayapyap Sur, Cabanatuan, I have an aunt who just got back from the states and settled here with her husband. Because she was there for such a long time, I've only seen here once or twice, and her husband never. So basically, I don't really know her that much though I remember her to be warm and kind. And when it's family, my mother tells me that you always have a duty to visit whenever you're in the area, so contact her I did.
Call it crazy but instead of asking to be fetched, I asked my friend if she was game to search for the house on our own even though we're complete strangers to the area. She was. And so we did -- armed with only the barangay name, house no., my aunt's family name. We found it without trouble-- with only the drivers as our guide.
Wow, the house was big and yet only my aunt and uncle lived there. The guest rooms were certainly better than any hotel room in the area or I've been in for that matter. And the food-- yum! We've been staying in my friend's dorm for two nights now but tomorrow, we stay in their home overnight before I say goodbye to Cabanatuan.
One thing weird here in Luzon is the common misconception about Cebuanos. My friend and I used to be taken aback whenever some locals asked us, "Segurado ba kayong you're from Cebu?" We answer, "Of course naman, ba't hindi?" They answer "Eh, ba't wala kayong punto (accent)?" or "Hinihintay ko yong punto nyo pero wala yata." And they really are amazed. Here once again is the power of TV on display. Because the Bisaya people they know from TV are the maids with accents, people automatically assume that we all speak the same. And so we educate them that that isn't always true. But two things people don't argue here are that Cebuanas are "maganda" and that Cebuanos speak good English. Hehe. That we totally agree on 100% (wink)
The people of Cabanatuan speak mostly Tagalog, though it's mixed with Kapampangan and Ilocano. Instead of "Para, mama" , here they mostly say "Tabi lang po". They are basically a polite people. The speak slowly and they call each other Ate, Kuya, Tito, Tita even though they hardly know each other. I was even warned by my friend that if you take out the "'po" in your statements, some would hear it as an insult. So "po" nalang ako nang "po" whenever I talk. I've lost count of the many "po's" I've uttered already since I got here.
On my second day, I felt confident enough to wander around on my own while my friend worked. After my Aunt and Uncle treated us to lunch at Max's -- the most convenient classy restaurant in the city -- I explored N.E. Pacific (?) Mall, the biggest so far I've come to since I got here. I'm happy to see that it looks a bit like Ayala Center Cebu -- though it's smaller with only two floors. And then I discovered National Bookstore and became delirious with joy. The only other mall here is Metrocenter. Haven't been there yet.
Before leaving, my aunt and uncle asked how I'm gonna get back to my friend's dorm on my own. I told them I'll be riding the jeep or tricycle. My uncle chuckled and joked, "Aba, parang taga-Cabanatuan ka na, ha. Alam mo na yata." Nah, it's just that I've learned not be afraid to ask questions and that I believe in the power of celfones. hehe. They were hesitant to leave but I assured them I'd be fine.
I don't know, but ever since I took this trip, I've been a friend to risks. I'm not done with this place yet. I mean to explore more and absorb as much as I can.
And then, on Saturday, we go to Baguio.
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
Touring Tarlac
Manila, Pampanga, Tarlac. Stop.
Tarlac City reminds me a lot of Roxas City in Panay -- provincial, noisy, yet booming nonetheless. The primary mode of transportation are the tricycles. Then there are the buses and the occasional jeepneys but no taxis -- airconditioned or otherwise.
Tarlac City also comes as a surprise. My tongue has barely gotten used to switching to Tagalog-- the many 'po', the saying of mama instead of manong, and etc. etc. -- and then I arrive here only to discover that it isn't the home dialect. You hear a Tagalog speaker now and then but most people here either speak Kapampangan or Ilocano. One time I talked to a tricycle driver who refuses to answer me in Tagalog when I asked how much the fare was. I couldn't understand a single slurred word he was saying. In defense, I finally gave him a coin and ran.
Luzon is apparently a place where people say "para" instead of knocking on wood or clicking the steel handlebar to make a driver stop. In Manila, the taxi drivers are shameless. Even without them asking if the service was good, they automatically take a hefty tip for themselves and don't give you your exact change at all. Here in Tarlac, the tricycle drivers are way beyond shameless. I figure they take pride in assuming the role of a taxi driver. But take note-- there is no standard flagdown. Apparently people here decide how much you're gonna pay based on how you look. The better you dress, the less local you look, the more they charge. Speaking Tagalog is a dead giveaway that you're not from here and you can easily see with trepidation the automatic gleam that comes to their eyes. If it's just near (read: from UP Cebu College to Turtle's Nest) they already charge 10 pesos. Beyond near, it's 20 pesos. No breakdowns. And that's per person. Shameless. Just shameless.
The cheapest hotel here, I'm told, is Bambino's (The Transient's Home) along San Isidro, and so that's where we stayed overnight. Cheapest rate is 500 per room. And after awhile, I discovered why it's cheap after all. But I'm really in no position to complain since I'm on a tight budget. And when you are, almost anything will do. At least, the tv's 3 channels are working. In fairness, the grounds are cool and there's a swimming pool somewhere we weren't able to use.
Like most, Tarlac is basically just a small town. In fact, the next day, I felt confident enough to tour it by myself while my friend Almera worked for her dough. And being a true blue city girl, of course, my feet looked for the malls. In the city, there are two major malls -- Magic Star and Metrotown. Both were crowded and looked like Gaisano on the inside, if you know what I mean. Metrotown's bigger though. They're having this big sale and already, I found about 50 items I'd have wanted to buy if only I were in Cebu and don't have the strain of added luggage stopping me. The items here are cheap and the styles very varied. And the shoes, well, I can only imagine Berna. hehe.
And then I had to go visit again Plaza Luisita Mall, that's in or near Capaz, some 20 minutes away from Tarlac City. Almera and I went there last night but were only able to peruse the outside since the main mall was already closing. It is said that the place (Luisita) is owned by Kris Aquino's family or the Cojuanco's, and that the mall fronts the famous hacienda Luisita. It was there at Luisita Plaza where I ate my first meal in Tarlac -- and among the open choices--- Max, Pancake House, Pizza Hut, and others -- of course, we chose Jollibee. Haha. At least and in fairness, their Jollibee is the grandest branch I've seen. I don't know, but it seems that for every new town I visit, I always end up taking my first meal in Jollibee. It simply is everywhere (and I mean that literally) And for a metro girl like me lost in a provincial town, the aromatic whiff of its chickenjoy and yums at least brings back a semblance of home. Anyway, I digress.
Luisita Mall was a disappointment. Outside, it looks posh, but the mall? Never mind. It looks disorganized, the aircon doesn't seem to be working, and it's crowded. But then, maybe I'm just used to Ayala Center Cebu. At least, Luisita's got Starbucks and from there, all the national papers you can read.
Tarlac City, with its typical schools, churches, hardware stores, and such, is a place I don't really wish to live in. What frustrates me about it is that you can't stay outside for 15 minutes without your hair smelling like smoke from tricycle fumes and dust settling on your face. From your very low seat in the tricycle, you inhale all the black fart from the vehicle in front of you. The people are polite, but not friendly enough. Yeah, no cuties either. And goodness, they don't speak any of the dialects I know!
But hey, it's something different and so is interesting enough.
Tonight, we ride for Cabanatuan.
Tarlac City reminds me a lot of Roxas City in Panay -- provincial, noisy, yet booming nonetheless. The primary mode of transportation are the tricycles. Then there are the buses and the occasional jeepneys but no taxis -- airconditioned or otherwise.
Tarlac City also comes as a surprise. My tongue has barely gotten used to switching to Tagalog-- the many 'po', the saying of mama instead of manong, and etc. etc. -- and then I arrive here only to discover that it isn't the home dialect. You hear a Tagalog speaker now and then but most people here either speak Kapampangan or Ilocano. One time I talked to a tricycle driver who refuses to answer me in Tagalog when I asked how much the fare was. I couldn't understand a single slurred word he was saying. In defense, I finally gave him a coin and ran.
Luzon is apparently a place where people say "para" instead of knocking on wood or clicking the steel handlebar to make a driver stop. In Manila, the taxi drivers are shameless. Even without them asking if the service was good, they automatically take a hefty tip for themselves and don't give you your exact change at all. Here in Tarlac, the tricycle drivers are way beyond shameless. I figure they take pride in assuming the role of a taxi driver. But take note-- there is no standard flagdown. Apparently people here decide how much you're gonna pay based on how you look. The better you dress, the less local you look, the more they charge. Speaking Tagalog is a dead giveaway that you're not from here and you can easily see with trepidation the automatic gleam that comes to their eyes. If it's just near (read: from UP Cebu College to Turtle's Nest) they already charge 10 pesos. Beyond near, it's 20 pesos. No breakdowns. And that's per person. Shameless. Just shameless.
The cheapest hotel here, I'm told, is Bambino's (The Transient's Home) along San Isidro, and so that's where we stayed overnight. Cheapest rate is 500 per room. And after awhile, I discovered why it's cheap after all. But I'm really in no position to complain since I'm on a tight budget. And when you are, almost anything will do. At least, the tv's 3 channels are working. In fairness, the grounds are cool and there's a swimming pool somewhere we weren't able to use.
Like most, Tarlac is basically just a small town. In fact, the next day, I felt confident enough to tour it by myself while my friend Almera worked for her dough. And being a true blue city girl, of course, my feet looked for the malls. In the city, there are two major malls -- Magic Star and Metrotown. Both were crowded and looked like Gaisano on the inside, if you know what I mean. Metrotown's bigger though. They're having this big sale and already, I found about 50 items I'd have wanted to buy if only I were in Cebu and don't have the strain of added luggage stopping me. The items here are cheap and the styles very varied. And the shoes, well, I can only imagine Berna. hehe.
And then I had to go visit again Plaza Luisita Mall, that's in or near Capaz, some 20 minutes away from Tarlac City. Almera and I went there last night but were only able to peruse the outside since the main mall was already closing. It is said that the place (Luisita) is owned by Kris Aquino's family or the Cojuanco's, and that the mall fronts the famous hacienda Luisita. It was there at Luisita Plaza where I ate my first meal in Tarlac -- and among the open choices--- Max, Pancake House, Pizza Hut, and others -- of course, we chose Jollibee. Haha. At least and in fairness, their Jollibee is the grandest branch I've seen. I don't know, but it seems that for every new town I visit, I always end up taking my first meal in Jollibee. It simply is everywhere (and I mean that literally) And for a metro girl like me lost in a provincial town, the aromatic whiff of its chickenjoy and yums at least brings back a semblance of home. Anyway, I digress.
Luisita Mall was a disappointment. Outside, it looks posh, but the mall? Never mind. It looks disorganized, the aircon doesn't seem to be working, and it's crowded. But then, maybe I'm just used to Ayala Center Cebu. At least, Luisita's got Starbucks and from there, all the national papers you can read.
Tarlac City, with its typical schools, churches, hardware stores, and such, is a place I don't really wish to live in. What frustrates me about it is that you can't stay outside for 15 minutes without your hair smelling like smoke from tricycle fumes and dust settling on your face. From your very low seat in the tricycle, you inhale all the black fart from the vehicle in front of you. The people are polite, but not friendly enough. Yeah, no cuties either. And goodness, they don't speak any of the dialects I know!
But hey, it's something different and so is interesting enough.
Tonight, we ride for Cabanatuan.
Monday, August 16, 2004
Manila, Manila
Manila went by in a 45-minute blur on my way to Cubao from the airport. Amazingly enough, it didn't rain when the plane landed so I was able to see it in all its complicated and smoggy glory.
Seeing it for the second time is just like switching the cable's channel to Cinema One. First thing you notice from a bird's eye view on the plane is the great maze of big roads, intersections and flyovers. 'Tis a fact I've never seen so many in my life. And yet, there is a sense of structure to it, a sense of balance, and purpose. And then, from the breezy atmosphere of the airport (I love airports!), the slap of a metropolis gone bonkers outside welcome you to the real world.
The taxi took me to the tunnels and that was a first. It was enough for me to conjure images for a murder story. And yet, it was like a scene from an American movie and so, oddly exciting.
The next thing that hits you are the billboards. From the route I was taking, I've got to say Robin Padilla won the battle of the billboard giants, followed closely by Piolo, Mega, and guess who-- Ricky Reyes.
On the road, I saw a cutie yuppie whiz past with a polo hanging on his car's backseat. I can only imagine him listening to the Matchbox 20's "Unwell" as I saw his fingers drumming on the wheel. I was tempted to wave, but then, i figured that would be just too crass. Hehe.
And then, near the terminal, the people swarmed like ants (My God, where on earth did all these people come from?!) , the buses spit their black fumes and it all made me itch to scream "Give me back Cebu!!"
But hey, the adventure's not over yet. Next stop: Tarlac.
Seeing it for the second time is just like switching the cable's channel to Cinema One. First thing you notice from a bird's eye view on the plane is the great maze of big roads, intersections and flyovers. 'Tis a fact I've never seen so many in my life. And yet, there is a sense of structure to it, a sense of balance, and purpose. And then, from the breezy atmosphere of the airport (I love airports!), the slap of a metropolis gone bonkers outside welcome you to the real world.
The taxi took me to the tunnels and that was a first. It was enough for me to conjure images for a murder story. And yet, it was like a scene from an American movie and so, oddly exciting.
The next thing that hits you are the billboards. From the route I was taking, I've got to say Robin Padilla won the battle of the billboard giants, followed closely by Piolo, Mega, and guess who-- Ricky Reyes.
On the road, I saw a cutie yuppie whiz past with a polo hanging on his car's backseat. I can only imagine him listening to the Matchbox 20's "Unwell" as I saw his fingers drumming on the wheel. I was tempted to wave, but then, i figured that would be just too crass. Hehe.
And then, near the terminal, the people swarmed like ants (My God, where on earth did all these people come from?!) , the buses spit their black fumes and it all made me itch to scream "Give me back Cebu!!"
But hey, the adventure's not over yet. Next stop: Tarlac.
Thursday, August 12, 2004
Ramblings from 2003 III
Bjork
7/21/03
What impressed me much about 'Dancer in the Dark' is that it is so twisted that you canot help but see its beauty. I guess there's no more striking character than Bjork. She is so annoyingly, blessedly naive. She's forever optimistic and you cannot fault her for lack of purpose. Brave? Nah. Just out of this world.
She makes music from the sounds produced by mundane matters such as the tapping of the nails, the grating of metals, the clicking of the heels, the hush of whispered words. In her blindness, she sees visions that are so ordinary that they are beautiful. She takes refuge in dancing with the wind. She draws strength from a world that breathes of grace, and she finds comfort in the fluid steps and movements that produce twirls and moments of pure bliss.
The world hailed the film -- and Bjork as well -- as the best of its kind. Not all could appreciate it, true. But the twisted? Oh, they'll find something disturbingly familiar about it. And that's the sheer beauty of it.
****************
In answer to Karenjen's "Kamusta na?"
like the life line of a dead man
the world here is undisturbed by any high or low
boredom drips like honey from my tired mind
and my senses crave of wandering passions
sigh. and yet.
i'm already past dreaming
for time is busy with its own matters
but every once in a while,
i give in to a thought or two
and wonder about my lovely friend
across the miles :)
***********
there is truth in a carelessly uttered joke
there is joy in a fallen tear
there is laughter in calamities
and sorrow in wealth
there is betrayal in close friendships
and comfort among strangers
even heaven has its bitter flavor
and hell the tang of sweetness
to wish, to pain
to sing, to break
to dance, to fall
to love, to lose.
the placid sea dreams
and d' sky cries
the waters flow
and the hills build a dam
letting be is letting go
and the time waits and goes.
************
in the stillness of monday's 12th hour
the joy rushes from vein to vein
a tingle, a shake
and the warmth of sweet caress
tap, tap, the feet go
swish to sway, the body flows
click to clack, flick and smack
in breathless motion, the sticks and drums
deliver the joy so fast
a scream, a squeak
a bang, a clap
a boom that booms
cheer the hands to play.
7/21/03
What impressed me much about 'Dancer in the Dark' is that it is so twisted that you canot help but see its beauty. I guess there's no more striking character than Bjork. She is so annoyingly, blessedly naive. She's forever optimistic and you cannot fault her for lack of purpose. Brave? Nah. Just out of this world.
She makes music from the sounds produced by mundane matters such as the tapping of the nails, the grating of metals, the clicking of the heels, the hush of whispered words. In her blindness, she sees visions that are so ordinary that they are beautiful. She takes refuge in dancing with the wind. She draws strength from a world that breathes of grace, and she finds comfort in the fluid steps and movements that produce twirls and moments of pure bliss.
The world hailed the film -- and Bjork as well -- as the best of its kind. Not all could appreciate it, true. But the twisted? Oh, they'll find something disturbingly familiar about it. And that's the sheer beauty of it.
****************
In answer to Karenjen's "Kamusta na?"
like the life line of a dead man
the world here is undisturbed by any high or low
boredom drips like honey from my tired mind
and my senses crave of wandering passions
sigh. and yet.
i'm already past dreaming
for time is busy with its own matters
but every once in a while,
i give in to a thought or two
and wonder about my lovely friend
across the miles :)
***********
there is truth in a carelessly uttered joke
there is joy in a fallen tear
there is laughter in calamities
and sorrow in wealth
there is betrayal in close friendships
and comfort among strangers
even heaven has its bitter flavor
and hell the tang of sweetness
to wish, to pain
to sing, to break
to dance, to fall
to love, to lose.
the placid sea dreams
and d' sky cries
the waters flow
and the hills build a dam
letting be is letting go
and the time waits and goes.
************
in the stillness of monday's 12th hour
the joy rushes from vein to vein
a tingle, a shake
and the warmth of sweet caress
tap, tap, the feet go
swish to sway, the body flows
click to clack, flick and smack
in breathless motion, the sticks and drums
deliver the joy so fast
a scream, a squeak
a bang, a clap
a boom that booms
cheer the hands to play.
Ramblings from 2003 II
7/17/03
Somehow, there is comfort in the quiet hum of the slender cold air blower to my left, of busy fingers tapping with a tang of frustration, impatience, or boredom.
My heavy head struggles to wake up my sleepy eyes connected tomy numb brain. My officemates desperately try to make small talk, anything to keep the face from going stiff and the fierce scowls from becoming permanent fixtures on our otherwise lovely countenance.
Hearing Ronald's rich baritone is quite soothing, making me, I'm afraid, all the more sleepy. Donna and Emi's high-pitched girly giggles prick the ears to curiosity but it isn't quite enough. Bernadette's deep mumblings is a sharp contrast to the absolute silence of the people in front.
A question thrown here and there. The rumble of laughter. And I continue to write just as my head moves closer, almost snuggly, to the table top.
**************
Sometimes, I think I edit too much -- my thoughts, my speech, my penned words. There is an exhilarating freedom in writing as the ink flows-- with no rules, no eyes, no critics, no turning back choice to make me stilted and unnatural.
I write, conscious still of errors, of grammar that fall short or go beyond the accepted, of a penmanship that will take time to decipher. But I let it all be. I let the errors be.
For what is perfection without errors? What is life without colors? What is a line without the ramblings of the dots? For even the trivial has its purpose. Even the unacceptable has its point. Boredom is a heavy burden and it is life's sense of humor to make us long for the trivial and unaccepted to make it all a little lighter.
I envy those who don't allow themselves to think too much, to dream too much, or to imagine too much. For to do so would mean being discontent. But what is life without these?
Oh, balance! Such a tricky thing!
Somehow, there is comfort in the quiet hum of the slender cold air blower to my left, of busy fingers tapping with a tang of frustration, impatience, or boredom.
My heavy head struggles to wake up my sleepy eyes connected tomy numb brain. My officemates desperately try to make small talk, anything to keep the face from going stiff and the fierce scowls from becoming permanent fixtures on our otherwise lovely countenance.
Hearing Ronald's rich baritone is quite soothing, making me, I'm afraid, all the more sleepy. Donna and Emi's high-pitched girly giggles prick the ears to curiosity but it isn't quite enough. Bernadette's deep mumblings is a sharp contrast to the absolute silence of the people in front.
A question thrown here and there. The rumble of laughter. And I continue to write just as my head moves closer, almost snuggly, to the table top.
**************
Sometimes, I think I edit too much -- my thoughts, my speech, my penned words. There is an exhilarating freedom in writing as the ink flows-- with no rules, no eyes, no critics, no turning back choice to make me stilted and unnatural.
I write, conscious still of errors, of grammar that fall short or go beyond the accepted, of a penmanship that will take time to decipher. But I let it all be. I let the errors be.
For what is perfection without errors? What is life without colors? What is a line without the ramblings of the dots? For even the trivial has its purpose. Even the unacceptable has its point. Boredom is a heavy burden and it is life's sense of humor to make us long for the trivial and unaccepted to make it all a little lighter.
I envy those who don't allow themselves to think too much, to dream too much, or to imagine too much. For to do so would mean being discontent. But what is life without these?
Oh, balance! Such a tricky thing!
Ramblings from 2003 I
Sunset
7/14/03
Sunsets makeme thinkof my brother. It could be uncomfortably hot, very much fickle, lazy, and easily gone in a moment-- if you're not careful enough to monitor the clouds that hover around. And yet, it is so breathtakingly beautiful. It triggers a yearning in yourself that prods you to look for it after bouts of missing it.
The sun shines through the thick, eye-curing leaves that faithfully try to shield me from the harsh rays. It will meet the sea soon, coloring the world with flashes of red, pink, lavender, and whatever else its mood may see fit.
Not so distant away, the cow moos, preparing to find shelter before darkness falls, panicking as its young child does not heed the call. The birds chirp, singing their lovely songs, simply grateful for not being eaten alive by higher predators in the food chain.
The chicken cackles so, desperately fleeing for its life as the gleam of the sharp knife pursues it for dinner. The rooster warns of time as it senses the fading light.
A frail-looking woman briskly sweeps her backyard, quietly cursing the little insects trying to invade her territory. She desperately tries to remeber her mother's words that that they're no enemies, that like us, they too are trying to find their place in this world.
A child plays quietly by the sea dotted with little islands. She takes measure of the lad that looks for food at the sea for supper.
Oh, the sun setting is simply glorious. And as I take this picture, I'll keep it in my head and heart to remind me that in moments like this, life is simply beautiful.
I gotta go catch the sun before it fades into the night.
*************
On a Bus to Nowhere
7/15/03
Through the thumping speakers of the crusty, old CBL bus, a boy band croons about love and the longing for it. And, as apparently, when no answer came, it fades into the bright heat of the midday sun only to be replaced by the false declarations of another misguided singer. Songs like these and the people who foolishly sing them remind me of the world I'm going back to. I just hope somehow that amidst the shallowness, I can find something real, something worth staying for.
I have wanted to cut myself away even for just awhile but it seems even the remnants of that throbbing life can't be swallowed by the trees that line and lead me to the world of retreat. It seems that no matter how I try to forget, it'll always be a part of me. I can only pray that as I go back, I'll be ready to face the same issues, and somehow, be able to finally make sense of the chaos, the shallowness, the rush, disappointments, pain, hurt, the fleeting happiness, the laughter of the world that I'm used to.
I hope I can grab on to something substantial, to find that one true purpose that would make me give of myself, to love unconditionally, to give and find that joy and finally, contentment. And I hope that when I do, it wouldn't be as fleeting as the sunset. That it would only be as glorious, as exciting, as breathtaking, as lovely as giving...
And I rest in His rainbow of promise that before I meet the ax of death, He'll bring it all to be. And unlike Solomon, I'll be able to declare that life is not at all meaningless. It may be elusive, but not meaningless.
************
I Wonder
7/15/03
I wonder what goes on in the mind of the curly-haired girl as she stares at me as if I'm an unusual specimen before her microscopic eyes.
I wonder if the long-haired lady with the brown tank top and tight jeans is truly happy being the glorified helper and bedmate of the aging, stiff-necked American.
I wonder if the chicken tied to the seat and securely held on the old man's lap thinks of murder and mayhem, of escape, of sorrow for the life and freedom left behind.
7/14/03
Sunsets makeme thinkof my brother. It could be uncomfortably hot, very much fickle, lazy, and easily gone in a moment-- if you're not careful enough to monitor the clouds that hover around. And yet, it is so breathtakingly beautiful. It triggers a yearning in yourself that prods you to look for it after bouts of missing it.
The sun shines through the thick, eye-curing leaves that faithfully try to shield me from the harsh rays. It will meet the sea soon, coloring the world with flashes of red, pink, lavender, and whatever else its mood may see fit.
Not so distant away, the cow moos, preparing to find shelter before darkness falls, panicking as its young child does not heed the call. The birds chirp, singing their lovely songs, simply grateful for not being eaten alive by higher predators in the food chain.
The chicken cackles so, desperately fleeing for its life as the gleam of the sharp knife pursues it for dinner. The rooster warns of time as it senses the fading light.
A frail-looking woman briskly sweeps her backyard, quietly cursing the little insects trying to invade her territory. She desperately tries to remeber her mother's words that that they're no enemies, that like us, they too are trying to find their place in this world.
A child plays quietly by the sea dotted with little islands. She takes measure of the lad that looks for food at the sea for supper.
Oh, the sun setting is simply glorious. And as I take this picture, I'll keep it in my head and heart to remind me that in moments like this, life is simply beautiful.
I gotta go catch the sun before it fades into the night.
*************
On a Bus to Nowhere
7/15/03
Through the thumping speakers of the crusty, old CBL bus, a boy band croons about love and the longing for it. And, as apparently, when no answer came, it fades into the bright heat of the midday sun only to be replaced by the false declarations of another misguided singer. Songs like these and the people who foolishly sing them remind me of the world I'm going back to. I just hope somehow that amidst the shallowness, I can find something real, something worth staying for.
I have wanted to cut myself away even for just awhile but it seems even the remnants of that throbbing life can't be swallowed by the trees that line and lead me to the world of retreat. It seems that no matter how I try to forget, it'll always be a part of me. I can only pray that as I go back, I'll be ready to face the same issues, and somehow, be able to finally make sense of the chaos, the shallowness, the rush, disappointments, pain, hurt, the fleeting happiness, the laughter of the world that I'm used to.
I hope I can grab on to something substantial, to find that one true purpose that would make me give of myself, to love unconditionally, to give and find that joy and finally, contentment. And I hope that when I do, it wouldn't be as fleeting as the sunset. That it would only be as glorious, as exciting, as breathtaking, as lovely as giving...
And I rest in His rainbow of promise that before I meet the ax of death, He'll bring it all to be. And unlike Solomon, I'll be able to declare that life is not at all meaningless. It may be elusive, but not meaningless.
************
I Wonder
7/15/03
I wonder what goes on in the mind of the curly-haired girl as she stares at me as if I'm an unusual specimen before her microscopic eyes.
I wonder if the long-haired lady with the brown tank top and tight jeans is truly happy being the glorified helper and bedmate of the aging, stiff-necked American.
I wonder if the chicken tied to the seat and securely held on the old man's lap thinks of murder and mayhem, of escape, of sorrow for the life and freedom left behind.
Saturday, August 07, 2004
Blowin' Medellin
Up here in Medellin, the northern wind is blowin'. Tis the habagat season, people say, and the sea is simply wild.
From my mother's kitchen window, I stare amazed at the sight of fishermen braving the seas. I'm tempted to call them fools but nah, I remember that up here, it's just a way of life. Further up, the street lights of a neighboring island blink like twinkling stars, telling me that despite all, life here goes on.
The rain makes a play for my affections but this time i prefer the sanctuary of my parents' home. Bereft of the beauty of sunsets, I haven't had the heart to venture yet outside the gates, to the seashore, the crashing waves, and onto the greyish horizon.
The wind hasn't stopped howling for days now. It comes and it goes. But even as the world rages outside, there is a stillness, a certain calmness in my parents' home that makes a girl's mind wander to dreams of slaying dragons and happy-ever-afters.
At night, just before the sound of the sea lulls me to sleep, I take comfort in the familiar brew of my mother's tea and the occasional hot chocolate. I haven't felt so safe in my life.
For the first few days, it was nice getting to know my parents all over again. I've got to say that small town life has its charm. People are seemingly simple and uncomplicated. The air is so crisp and clear and your eyes will beg to weep at the wide expanse of greenery dotted only by the occasional buildings and quaint houses.
The town is quiet but right now, my parents' home is filled with shouts and laughter. Save for my brother, everyone is here. For tomorrow we celebrate baby Allen's birthday. Since it's his first year, my sister is determined to give it a blast-- ice cream, balloons, and lotsa lotsa children.
I can't wait to go out and play again.
From my mother's kitchen window, I stare amazed at the sight of fishermen braving the seas. I'm tempted to call them fools but nah, I remember that up here, it's just a way of life. Further up, the street lights of a neighboring island blink like twinkling stars, telling me that despite all, life here goes on.
The rain makes a play for my affections but this time i prefer the sanctuary of my parents' home. Bereft of the beauty of sunsets, I haven't had the heart to venture yet outside the gates, to the seashore, the crashing waves, and onto the greyish horizon.
The wind hasn't stopped howling for days now. It comes and it goes. But even as the world rages outside, there is a stillness, a certain calmness in my parents' home that makes a girl's mind wander to dreams of slaying dragons and happy-ever-afters.
At night, just before the sound of the sea lulls me to sleep, I take comfort in the familiar brew of my mother's tea and the occasional hot chocolate. I haven't felt so safe in my life.
For the first few days, it was nice getting to know my parents all over again. I've got to say that small town life has its charm. People are seemingly simple and uncomplicated. The air is so crisp and clear and your eyes will beg to weep at the wide expanse of greenery dotted only by the occasional buildings and quaint houses.
The town is quiet but right now, my parents' home is filled with shouts and laughter. Save for my brother, everyone is here. For tomorrow we celebrate baby Allen's birthday. Since it's his first year, my sister is determined to give it a blast-- ice cream, balloons, and lotsa lotsa children.
I can't wait to go out and play again.
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
To Bernading
To my bold and beautiful friend,
Of the 4 elements
You may choose earth
But I've always seen you as fire
Hot, bold, generous, and stunning
You may not tolerate a lot of things
But you give your all to those who matter
Thank you, girl, for being
My drinking and dancing buddy,
At times, coffeemate and coffeemaker
Occasionally, shopping pal
Often, chikkamate and yahoo friend,
Always, my cheerleader, reader and listener
Thank you, girl, for believing in me
For the support I can always count on
For understanding my craziness and genius (don't deny haha!)
My stoic moods and 'sounds colored' moments
And for hearing the beat of my soul.
Like fire, you are truly beautiful, Berna
Behind the bark and raised (and almost nonexistent! hehe) eyebrows
I know lies the heart of a kitten
A romantic and generous spirit
And now, before the moment passes me by,
I just really want to say
Thank you, girl, for sharing yourself with me.
God knows, you're one of the few treasures I've found in CannonCreek.
Sending you all my tequila-flavored hugs and kisses! Mwah!
Of the 4 elements
You may choose earth
But I've always seen you as fire
Hot, bold, generous, and stunning
You may not tolerate a lot of things
But you give your all to those who matter
Thank you, girl, for being
My drinking and dancing buddy,
At times, coffeemate and coffeemaker
Occasionally, shopping pal
Often, chikkamate and yahoo friend,
Always, my cheerleader, reader and listener
Thank you, girl, for believing in me
For the support I can always count on
For understanding my craziness and genius (don't deny haha!)
My stoic moods and 'sounds colored' moments
And for hearing the beat of my soul.
Like fire, you are truly beautiful, Berna
Behind the bark and raised (and almost nonexistent! hehe) eyebrows
I know lies the heart of a kitten
A romantic and generous spirit
And now, before the moment passes me by,
I just really want to say
Thank you, girl, for sharing yourself with me.
God knows, you're one of the few treasures I've found in CannonCreek.
Sending you all my tequila-flavored hugs and kisses! Mwah!
Of Breaks & Going the Distance
I've been out of work for 3 days now and God, it feels good!
I didn't know it but I've missed feeling the sun on my skin, missed the smell of the air before 5 PM,missed the sight of the trees playing with the wind, the sight of sober people, uncrowded malls, and what's more, grabbing a movie and shopping with a girl friend while most of the world are working.
After more than four years, I thank God for this wonderful opportunity of a long-awaited break.
I can't tell you how many times people have asked me about my plans. Plans? What plans? A text message to Ronald goes: "Day, di pa kaya sa akong brain mo think right now. I'll do that when mabusog na ko sa laag and gutomon na akong tiyan."
Oh I know about risks, about the unpredictability of available jobs, and the need to pay attention in order not to be left behind. My mother raised me well enough never to take money for granted. I know I cannot live like this forever, that one day, I have to join the bandwagon and land myself a job.
But you see, I'm a simple person. I'm tired of going after the gold mine just because I have the skills and I can. One thing I know, I'm tired of working my ass off for something I'm not even sure matters. Money, which used to be one strong motivator, has failed to make me happy. Mind you, I'm grateful for the countless opportunities it's brought me. But right now, for me, it has ceased to be the point.
That's why I need this break. I need to find out and remind myself of the passions that drive me. Maybe, when I'm done and hungry once more, I'll apply for one of those useless jobs again, but this time, I'll do so knowing what the point is all about.
I'm not afraid of being poor (I've been there and maybe it'll do my soul some good). I'm not afraid of starting over and working hard. What I'm really afraid of is missing the point, of missing God's plan for me, and of wasting this life.
On my second night of freedom, I finally picked up my sticks and played the drums once more. I wiped off a year of dust from my snare, the cymbals, hi-hat, and base drum. The instrument sounded hollow to me, (due to being unplayed for such a long time I'll bet), but it didn't matter. I made a racket all over gorordo avenue and it was just pure heaven. I'm reminded of what I love about this instrument-- the way your whole body works and moves together just to whip out that beat, the discipline, the focus, and the blood singing through your veins. The way you need to be really loud to get it right and be heard. The energy. Release. Pure bliss.
Officially, I just know one song. The rest, for me are just jamming and wacky playing. I never really got to finish my barely-started lessons. But maybe I don't need this kind of learning to be structured. I haven't even picked my next song yet. But the point this time is that I'm having fun. So I'm playing it by ear.
I've also had the time to browse through my old record collection. And these two songs struck a chord:
from the sound track of Hercules
I have often dreamed
Of a far off place
Where a hero's welcome
Will 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
I'll be there someday
I can go the distance
I will find my way
If I can be strong
I know ev'ry mile
Will be worth my while
When I go the distance
I'll be right where I belong
Down an unknown road
To embrace my fate
Though that road may wander
It will lead me to you
And a thousand years
Would be worth the wait
It might take a lifetime
But somehow I'll see it through
And I won't look back
I can go the distance
And I'll stay on track
No, I won't accept defeat
It's an uphill slope
But I won't lose hope
Till I go the distance
And my journey is complete
But to look beyond the glory is the hardest part
For a hero's strength is measured by his heart
Like a shooting star I will go the distance
I will search the world I will face its harms
I don't care how far I will go the distance
Till I find my hero's welcome
Waiting in your arms
from the soundtrack of Anastasia:
Heart, don't fail me now!
Courage, don't desert me!
Don't turn back now that we're here
People always say
Life is full of choices
No one ever mentions fear!
Or how a road can seem so long
How the world can seem so vast
Courage see me through
Heart I'm trusting you
On this journey...to...
Somewhere down this road
I know someone's waiting
Years of dreams just can't be wrong
Arms will open wide
I'll be safe and wanted
Fin'lly home where I belong
Well, starting here, my life begins
Starting now, I'm learning fast
Courage see me through
Heart I'm trusting you
On this journey...to...
Heart don't fail me now!
Courage don't desert me!
Home, Love, Family
There was once a time
I must have had them too
Home, Love, Family
I will never be complete
Until I find you...
One step at a time,
One hope, then another
Who knows where this road may go
Back to who I was
On to find my future,
Things my heart still needs to know
Yes, let this be a sign! Let this road be mine!
Let it lead me to my past
Courage see me through
Heart I'm trusting you
To bring me home...At last!
I didn't know it but I've missed feeling the sun on my skin, missed the smell of the air before 5 PM,missed the sight of the trees playing with the wind, the sight of sober people, uncrowded malls, and what's more, grabbing a movie and shopping with a girl friend while most of the world are working.
After more than four years, I thank God for this wonderful opportunity of a long-awaited break.
I can't tell you how many times people have asked me about my plans. Plans? What plans? A text message to Ronald goes: "Day, di pa kaya sa akong brain mo think right now. I'll do that when mabusog na ko sa laag and gutomon na akong tiyan."
Oh I know about risks, about the unpredictability of available jobs, and the need to pay attention in order not to be left behind. My mother raised me well enough never to take money for granted. I know I cannot live like this forever, that one day, I have to join the bandwagon and land myself a job.
But you see, I'm a simple person. I'm tired of going after the gold mine just because I have the skills and I can. One thing I know, I'm tired of working my ass off for something I'm not even sure matters. Money, which used to be one strong motivator, has failed to make me happy. Mind you, I'm grateful for the countless opportunities it's brought me. But right now, for me, it has ceased to be the point.
That's why I need this break. I need to find out and remind myself of the passions that drive me. Maybe, when I'm done and hungry once more, I'll apply for one of those useless jobs again, but this time, I'll do so knowing what the point is all about.
I'm not afraid of being poor (I've been there and maybe it'll do my soul some good). I'm not afraid of starting over and working hard. What I'm really afraid of is missing the point, of missing God's plan for me, and of wasting this life.
On my second night of freedom, I finally picked up my sticks and played the drums once more. I wiped off a year of dust from my snare, the cymbals, hi-hat, and base drum. The instrument sounded hollow to me, (due to being unplayed for such a long time I'll bet), but it didn't matter. I made a racket all over gorordo avenue and it was just pure heaven. I'm reminded of what I love about this instrument-- the way your whole body works and moves together just to whip out that beat, the discipline, the focus, and the blood singing through your veins. The way you need to be really loud to get it right and be heard. The energy. Release. Pure bliss.
Officially, I just know one song. The rest, for me are just jamming and wacky playing. I never really got to finish my barely-started lessons. But maybe I don't need this kind of learning to be structured. I haven't even picked my next song yet. But the point this time is that I'm having fun. So I'm playing it by ear.
I've also had the time to browse through my old record collection. And these two songs struck a chord:
from the sound track of Hercules
I have often dreamed
Of a far off place
Where a hero's welcome
Will 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
I'll be there someday
I can go the distance
I will find my way
If I can be strong
I know ev'ry mile
Will be worth my while
When I go the distance
I'll be right where I belong
Down an unknown road
To embrace my fate
Though that road may wander
It will lead me to you
And a thousand years
Would be worth the wait
It might take a lifetime
But somehow I'll see it through
And I won't look back
I can go the distance
And I'll stay on track
No, I won't accept defeat
It's an uphill slope
But I won't lose hope
Till I go the distance
And my journey is complete
But to look beyond the glory is the hardest part
For a hero's strength is measured by his heart
Like a shooting star I will go the distance
I will search the world I will face its harms
I don't care how far I will go the distance
Till I find my hero's welcome
Waiting in your arms
from the soundtrack of Anastasia:
Heart, don't fail me now!
Courage, don't desert me!
Don't turn back now that we're here
People always say
Life is full of choices
No one ever mentions fear!
Or how a road can seem so long
How the world can seem so vast
Courage see me through
Heart I'm trusting you
On this journey...to...
Somewhere down this road
I know someone's waiting
Years of dreams just can't be wrong
Arms will open wide
I'll be safe and wanted
Fin'lly home where I belong
Well, starting here, my life begins
Starting now, I'm learning fast
Courage see me through
Heart I'm trusting you
On this journey...to...
Heart don't fail me now!
Courage don't desert me!
Home, Love, Family
There was once a time
I must have had them too
Home, Love, Family
I will never be complete
Until I find you...
One step at a time,
One hope, then another
Who knows where this road may go
Back to who I was
On to find my future,
Things my heart still needs to know
Yes, let this be a sign! Let this road be mine!
Let it lead me to my past
Courage see me through
Heart I'm trusting you
To bring me home...At last!
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