LP 73: Lakad

Maliit pa lang ako, pangarap ko nang mapuntahan ang lungsod ng Athens kung saan diumano ay naglakad ang mga diyos at diyosa ng mitolohiyang Griyego.

Natupad na rin aking pangarap nuong nakaraang Hulyo.

Ang di ko akalain ay mayroon din palang "changing of the guards" katulad ng nagaganap sa tirahan ng reyna ng Britanya sa Athens. Bawat oras ay may palitan ng mga guwardya sa harap ng National Parliament nila.

Naaliw ako dahil kakaiba ang kanilang paglalakad. Para silang nag-e-ehersisyo. O di naman sumasayaw ng mabagal sa musika ni Michael Jackson na "They Don't Really Care About Us." At sino ba naman ang di matutuwa sa pompom sa sapatos ng mga gwardiya o tassle sa likod ng kanilang mga tuhod. At napapaisip ako, "ang init ng suot nila. buti buhay pa sila!"

RIP, Alexis Tioseco

There are just too many good people passing away this year.

This morning, I woke up with my usual routing. Turning on my laptop. Checking facebook and twitter. I found it strange seeing Gang's status with just Alexis Tioseco's name. It was too cryptic, so I looked at the tweets from different online newspapers to see if there was any report about him.

And there it was. He was shot dead in his own home by robbers.

I do not him personally, though I wish I did. But he was part of my mornings in Davao when 'Breakfast' still aired on Studio 23. He would be a weekly (or was it bi-weekly) guest on the show, and he would talk about films. It was interesting how this Ingliserong Amboy from Canada (Amboy, pero Canada? ano yun?! haha! but you know what I mean) had so much passion for the local film industry. Most of the time, he discussed about independent films or old classics that should be revived.

He was clearly an advocate for the film industry as an art. I could sense his frustration when he would talk about lost films of the old greats. It was also interesting how he tackled the issue on National Artists. More than lobbying for Caparas not to receive the award, he was clamoring for the NCCA to actually set aside a budget to educate the people about the arts. So no one can claim that it is for the elite. I did not think of it that way. Such a philosophical, deep thinker.

I came across an article he wrote for Rogue Magazine. It showed how much he loved his girlfriend (who along with him was also murdered) and how much he loved the local film industry. It's a beautiful piece.

And he also wrote a piece about his wishful thinking for Philippine Cinema. This guy is did not just love the film industry, he was in-love with it.

It's sad that such a passionate advocate is gone. And gone the way he did. It is so wrong on so many levels.

I don't know if I have the right to feel this way not having known him. It was also just recently that I got re-acquainted with his work because of the National Artists brouhaha. But I feel I lost my voice with his passing.

Thank you, Alexis Tioseco. I pray that justice will be served.

not a sleepyhead

since i got back in netherlands, my sleeping pattern kinda normalized. sleeping between 12 and 1, waking up between 730 and 9. it feels good actually.

but tonight, or this morning, i'm back to restlessness at 2 in the morning. i want to go to sleep. but i couldn't bring my body to lie down.

was it because i actually started doing something for my paper? i doubt it. it's hardly a breakthrough. but at least it's a baby step.

i miss home. i really do. not the philippines itself, but home.

it's true what they say. leaving the second time is much harder, more gut-wrenching. the first time i got here, i was so excited. taking in anything and everything. i wanted to go out and see as much of it as i can. i usually just think about jan during lull times in the day.

but now, i think about my home most of the time. 10 weeks of hardly being apart can do that to you. the four days that i was away during those 10 weeks was spent with my family so that was also a very busy time. but most days, we were just together. eating together, working (or not working, in my case) together.

sigh.

i hate being a mush ball. but sleep deprivation can do that to you, i guess.

and when i watch Up again, i am probably going to cry buckets not just because of the story but because of so many things.

i want my home. :(

been a while

it has been a while since i posted anything decent in this blog. school and trying not to do school has been keeping me busy. and honestly, i really have nothing in mind to say. oh, there is much in my head for sure. but none of which i can actually blog about meaningfully yet. i have not the words.

anyway, the last few days, i have been looking bact at my old blog. i surprised myself. i did not know i could write so well, if i can just give time to actually think about what i say, if i actually give myself time to reflect. but i have not.

i wish i could say life is happening to me right now. but not really. most of the time, i'm cooped up in my room, surrounded by books i have yet to read, battling thoughts on my research paper, running away using facebook and livestreaming movies.

but i want to blog again. to write again. to free my mind again of thoughts that hardly mean anything, but then i want to say them anyway. maybe just writing nonsense random things will get the mojo back again.

i miss it. i miss writing. i miss writing to share what i see, what i feel. so i'm hoping this is a start.

naniniwala, nagtitiwala

naniniwala ako na hindi makakalimot ang pinoy.
kailangan lang na may laging mag-paalala.
nagtitiwala ako sa pilipino.
kailangan lang niya ng paniniwalaan.
ipagdasal natin na darating siya sa panahong kailangang-kailangan natin.

maraming salamat at paalam

salamat, tita cory, at muli mong pinag-isa ang bansang pilipinas.
nawa ay hindi namin hayaan ang aming mga sarili na muling makalimot.
magkasama na kayo ni ninoy. salamat sa inyong dalawa... sa magkaibang paraan ng pag-alay ng buhay para sa pilipinas.

cory naming mahal

with your quiet grace, you have inspired an entire nation.
the humility of your faith is your strength.

thank you, Cory. i pray the nation will not forget.

to she who is the beacon of hope

it's been a while since i have lost blogged anything. things have been in busy frenzy and the time to sit down, reflect and write has been elusive.

but today, as the SONA is about to be said, i take time to pay tribute to our beloved President Cory Aquino who continues to battle her colon cancer in the Makati Medical Center. more and more parts of the metro are being festooned with yellow ribbons in honor of her. even the web has been adorned with it.

once, in my childhood, this yellow ribbon was a defiance to a tyrannical administration. now it is to show continued support to she who has been the beacon of hope, even after she has graciously turned over the presidency to her legitimate replacement.

i post this yellow ribbon in honor of her.
and i also post this yellow ribbon to be once again that symbol of defiance to a tyranny.

today will be a battle of wills. may the end of this day pave the way for hope for a frustrated country.

a frustrated happy independence day

our original independence day was the same date as america, july 4. a date declared by the US for the country. historians urged then president Diosdado Macapagal (why oh why did you create such an evil spawn of a daughter? why!) to change it to june 12, originally Flag Day.

why june 12? in 1998, Gen. Emilio Aguinaldo proclaimed the sovereignty and independence of the Philippines and unfurled our flag to the people for the first time.

we were yet to be free from the spaniards. the war to drive them out was still ongoing.

i take pride in this day. i take pride that we did not wait to be declared independent by our conquistadors, rather we claimed it for ourselves. we did not need to win the war, we just need to know it was time to reclaim what was justly ours.

were we truly independent? technically not. we were turned over to the americans, who in the wake of world war 2, the coward douglas mcarthur left us to fend for ourselves upon the arrival of the japanese. he only came back when the war was over and it was safe for his sorry ass to come back and be safe in holding true to his promise.

now that our conquistadors are gone, we fight a new war. a sad war because it is our fellow Filipinos who oppress us. this greed for power has deprived farmers of their land, students of their education, squatters of their homes.

last week, a farmer activist fighting for land reform. last wednesday, thousands gathered in makati to express outrage for the 'timeliness' of a constitutional assembly just a few months before elections. for the last 60 years... we have been a confused nation managed by power-hungry elitists. i want to be independent from that. i want my countrymen to be fed, to be educated, to be nursed.

but how? sigh.

pretty flowers by steve martin

the moment michael sarver opened his mouth to sing the song, i could not help but fall in love with the song. steve martin's mean banjo playing made it all the more lovely. megan joy fumbled a bit, but the song was too feel good to be damaged.

i had the mushy mental imagery of jan and i walking hand and hand by the schev (oh, please, please let this be) to this song.

one month to one year

there three important questions you asked me

Q1.
it was late evening when we were hanging out by the benches under the tree of our alma mater. i don't remember anymore how the conversation led to you asking me what was happening between us.

you had your knee in a brace then. i remember the tail-end of our five hour conversation on the phone, i wished you 'break a leg' for your basketball game. ooops, wrong idiom. that was for theater. i did not, for the life of me, imagine that it would be taken literally. the next time i saw you again, you had a leg brace because of MCL. oooops, sorry.

you asked me, while our hands held each other, "ano to?" (what is this?) i wanted to be ambiguous, you didn't. i guess we know who won the case that night.

Q2.
it was funny how pinoy big brother got in the way of your moment.

after what i thought was our despedida dinner for you since it was your last day in davao and was already home, you gave me a scrapbook. i was teasing you for being romantic, a rare event and one that i always welcome.

i leafed through each page which i could see was made painstaken care and love. knowing you to be unexpressive, i teased you for putting images of our story in a book. so not you. so me, actually. and such an idiot i am, i really did not know what was coming. and because of that... the tempo broke when an interesting scene was happening on big brother. thank God for commercial breaks. haha.

yes, i am such an idiot. even upon reaching the page when THE question was there, i didn't get it. i read it the first time and snickered and teased you again. 'yiheeee, you love me! you are sooo cute.'

then i went back to the note again. waitaminute. your note said, "angie, mahal na mahal kita. maari ba kitang makasama ng habang buhay?" (angie, i love you very much. may i spend forever with you?).

people who knew about it actually bet i would cry, being such a cry baby. guess what, i laughed. laughed long and loud. not at you, but at myself. for being caught by surprise. for you actually pulling off a surprise! for me not getting it the moment i got the scrapbook. i laughed and forgot to say yes. we did resolve that at some point. :)


Q3.
well, it wasn't really you who asked me, but the priest. and he asked you the same thing. it seemed we kinda agreed on an answer.

the answer which decided our forevers was a leap of faith.

i believe.

<---------0-------->

i am fervently hoping we spend it together. yes, we can. :)

today the seeds* danced and sang

it was a perfect day to bike around in den haag to get lost.

as i pedaled my way through the bike paths, gusts of wind blew the seeds from the trees down to the ground. hundreds of tiny little seeds danced and spiraled as they made their way down. yet as they gathered in heaps, the wind would blow again and the seeds would ran and glide on the concrete making them sing. such a magical and ethereal day!

i love spring! spring is such a wonderful time of the year. :)

litratong pinoy: gusali

dahil sa pagkalakwatsera ko, may ilan-ilan na rin akong nakitang mga kilalang gusali sa europa. nuon, di ako bilib sa eiffel tower. feeling ko, building lang siya na nakalimutang damitan ang bakal. pero nuong nakita ko na sa personal... di ko mapigilang matuwa. kakaiba ang pakiramdam na makita mo ang isang bagay na palagi mo lang nababasa o napapanuod. di ko alam kung nagandahan ako sa kanya, pero sigurado akong ako ay namangha.

happy easter!

may the hope of the season be with you. :)

this holy week turned out to be a pleasant surprise. :)

Good Friday was spent in Brugges, Belgium. A somewhat imposed presence to Marwell and Maricar's road trip, thanks to Jo and Alma backing out last minute. Brugges is what I had always imagined Europe to be, back in those days when I did not know any better. Old Europe. Chocolates, beer, lace, fries and belgian waffles. Shocked the other passers-by with our fish-rice-tomato-shrimp paste lunch complete with utensils. But definitely a good Pinoy meal in Europe. Really goooood. Thanks, Marwell, for the free ride.

Black Saturday was spent to meet with my 'adopted' Dutch family. I joined the 'Meet the Dutch' program in school which allowed the ISS students to spend time with the Dutch (given we barely see Dutch people in school as we are quite multicultural in set-up). Peter and Anky were such wonderful hosts! My first time to ride a high Dutch bike. And didn't expect to do 34 kms of it in one go! We went around the towns of Bodegraven, Reeuweg and Gouda. A nice mix of small town, big countryside tour. Reeuweg was particularly exciting, with its lakes and sailing areas. The sun was absolutely perfect except with a few minutes of rain. The guided bike tour taught me about dikes and ditches and peat and sea level and such. Peter did a good job of letting me know a bit more about the Dutch way of life. Brought home pictures and instructions to send them to my mom and Jan. Plus a recipe to try out too! Yummmm...

Easter Sunday started with a surprise breakfast for Risa, which I hope made her happy, despite the fact we woke her up from sleep. Tee-hee! Breakfast with most of the gang then off to mass. Mass was also good wherein we witnessed how a European baptism goes, with babies exposed in their full glory to the audience. Haha! Plus beautiful Nigerian songs to welcome Christ's Resurrection. Afterwards, I spent the afternoon with the bday girl and Iain in Amsterdam looking at Van Gogh paintings.

Not bad at all. Especially for someone who had no specific plans for the week whatsoever.

Happy Easter again!

missing 70s bistro

70's bistro is that little hole in the wall bar along anonas that was probably the home of my melancholy and joy when i stared to work for non-profit organizations. NGO workers often hung out there, probably because it was a stone's throw away from the unofficial development organization district. and maybe because the performing artists themselves were active in social movement.
photo lifted from greenpeacesoutheastasia.wordpress.com

other than that, it was where many jesuit volunteers (JVP) like me frequently drowned our re-entry in the 'real world' angst with beer and noel cabangon's music . we listened to his songs of longing for a loved one far-away, of yesterdays that can never be relived, of frustration with the country, of hopes for tomorrow. and it was not just noel. there was joey ayala and gary granada and cookie chua and cynthia alexander... my demi-gods, if not gods, of alternative filipino music.

of course, there were also those dancerous nights listening to brownman revival. moving to their reggae beat, wondering about the injustice in the world with dino (the lead singer) having a smaller waist and shirt size than us girls.

what made it even better... were conversations with them during intermissions. most of them devoid of celebrity pompousness would sit down with us to share a beer and conversation. the waiters have also come to know us and usually seat us as near to the stage as possible. and despite work at 9AM the next day, we would go home at 2AM with our thirst for life sated and fired up at the same time.

my last two wednesdays in the philippines was spent watching noel. once with the fuhkers sucking on cannabis lollipops sent by tatit. once with maita while jan was watching argentina play olympic basketball at home.

i miss that when i feel like what i feel right now (reflective), my heart was tugged by the sound of an acoustic guitar while sitting in the middle of a cramped room sipping on my cold coke and crunching ice cubes.

* * * * *

as an aside, it was usually after going to bistro that i am able to write poems. i am no way a poet. but there are days when words just come and put themselves together using my hand to be alive. the ones i post here were written after noel's 10th anniversary gig in bistro. one of the best gigs ever.

BISTRO. MGA TULA PARA SA IYO.

1. BISTRO

tahanan ka
ng mga dakilang nakikibaka
nakikiramdam sa naghihingalong pilipinas.

kanlungan ka
ng mga mang-aawit
na sumusubok
buhayin ang pag-asa
sa pusong pagod na.

daungan ka
ng mga kaluluwang naghahanap
ng pagkakataon
na lumaya
kahit panandalian lang.

samu’t-sari
iba’t-ibang mga nilalang.
ngunit nagiging
isa
sa mga bisig mo.

1:52 AM 3-27-03

2. TISSUE
tissue

strewn all over the floor.
blown by the ceiling fan’s
tender (almost nothing) gust.

dry.
tainted with bleeding ink
and smeared lipstick.
(and someone’s broken heart)

damp.
wrapped around a glass
(and maybe on trembling fingers)
full of spiked tea.

wet.
wiped against the beer bottle’s flowing tears.
(and possibly that man’s too.)

soaked.
spilled with cold cerveza
warmed by lingering thoughts.
(and sometimes broken dreams)

later,
when the lights are out
the gentle movements
of the sleepy waiter’s broom
shall gather
you
all
in
one
big
heap.

2:01 AM 3-27-03

3. TIGANG

piga na
ang katas
ng kaluluwa.

ngunit ang
iyong tinig
ang nagdidilig
sa kanyang katigangan.

uhaw.
gutom.
ngunit higit sa lahat
lito
sa kalawakan ng buhay.

di na kayang
liparin
languyin

kulang na ang lakas.
ngunit pag nalubog na
sa awit mo ang kamalayan,
ito na ang lakas ko.

bukas…
baka kaya pa ang bukas.
basta umawit ka pa
ng isa pa.
awit pa…

3-27-03 1:30 am

4. AMBROSIA

i have always heard
that ambrosia
was food for the gods.

i have not tasted
nor seen ambrosia.

neither am i a god.

what shall i be fed?
i.
who is but a frail, hungry, thirsting human.
what shall i be fed?

ah.
sing to me your soul.
that mine may know
how it is to live again.
nourish my soul with your song.

i know
not even ambrosia
can satiate me
nor quench me
as much as your odes.

1:40 AM 3-27-03