Akaw: Invictus sa Aurora

I invited my 'brother' Mike to spend Christmas with me. Being alone in the house after everyone left for home to spend the year's remaining days, I cannot imagine how to spend my Christmas - alone. So there it goes, straight from Baler Aurora where he is teaching, Mike came. Then we invited Julyn, another college friend here in the Metro who too almost wondered how is it to be Christmas alone, we have a dinner for three - over a sumptuous meal, a round of cake and a bottle of wine. We had a Merry Christmas after all.

Came Dec. 26 and I asked for a half-day for work. Mike and I planned to spend my 2-days off in Baler Aurora, a place he has been talking about and boasting about since he stayed there for his teaching stints in Mount Carmel College. Baler, the capital of Aurora is an 8 to 12-hour ride from Cubao, some 230 kilometers northeast of Manila. We had a stopover in Cabanatuan and transfer from Five Star to a D-Liner bus that would bring us to the the place. So off we went through the often rough, uncemented road along the ravines. A big beware for pregnant women in going there. At around 8:30pm, I set foot on the soil of Baler. It took us 8-hours and 15 minutes in all to reach the place (we left Cubao some minutes after 12pm). That was fast enough.

We then went to Mike's friend (and student), Ibu. Ibu's father, who is working here in the Metro, invited us over to talk about the art exhibit Mike and Ibu is planning to hold in their school. We pass by the shore going to Ibu's house and Oh! The blowing wind was enough for me to shout (as I always do in seashores) and have a puff of cigarette. They talked over their plans for the exhibit, and I inject some of my suggestion from time to time. A question I held back until I no longer can and suddenly blurted out why such is Ibu's name. Ibu, I was told, is short for 'Ibunsod' meaning 'to launch.' Then I continued my probing and was amazed by his siblings name. There is Hiyas (precious gems), Raya (the great), Ani (harvest), and Kris (sword). And a total whoa! to me for the uniqueness of their names.

It was raining on my first day in Baler, so we dare not go to places far and drench ourselves to shiver. We went to a hanging bridge, the longest by far I saw and walked on. What an exhilarating feeling it was , traversing the length of the bridge amidst the serene surrounding and the silent waters below. I told Mike I will be walking there everyday if I was him, but of course, that was a exaggeration. We went to Museo de Baler and have a glimpse of the place's historical past. We also went to the school where Mike is teaching. Then we went to a radio station somewhere on the 3rd floor of their school. I was told there are two local radio stations, one supported and run by the church (the one we visited) and the other by the Angaras. Then we went to the church of Baler and demerit why the old church was painted to appear like new instead of preserving it's natural, antiquated appearance. There by the side of the church I read this quote I immediately forwarded to some of my friends. It says:

"Mga katutubo, ninuno,
diba't kayo ang aming pinanggalingan?
Bakit kayo ay isinantabi ng lipunan, nililibak,
pinagtatawanan,
at niyurakanan ang dangal? "

So there it goes, striking enough that need not be explained further. Then we went to April's house, one of the 'tigidudes' (a group idiotically organized composing the new employees of MCC - I was told) and Mike's co-employee in San Luis. We went to Fr. Bon's and the seminary that lay beside. Then we went to the damn dam and have a gaze of the clear water. San Luis is a nice place, with their wide, clean roads. We ended San Luis escapade with a taste of barbecue sold on a sidewalk for 3 pesos per stick. Wheew!

We then visited Sabang beach. I am suppose to have my therapeutic walk along the shore leaving a set of footprints (with occasional shouts), but the weather did not let me. I contented on feasting my eyes to the surging waves of white and the few people surfing and enduring and enjoying its water. We then look through the sea and invited Mike that we go to the line that we see at the horizon. Ouch!!!

Along the way all throughout, there were enough share of handshakes and introductions to names I cannot remember among Mike's friends and students in the place.

For the night, we have a chilling on Baler's famed Bistro - your ultimate acoustic experience (the t-shirt we bought there says that). With live local bands (which are customers themselves), we had few bottles and have the pa-Bistro-bistro went to experience as what one line of their song said. At around 10:30pm, Mike decided to meet his student-friends there. Six of us, with the addition of Dalo, Nick, Toyang, and ErasmoMaharaja and have what it is a night life in Baler. With songs and beer, we stayed until the wee hours of the night. It was also a good night for story sharing and listening about what Baler have been, the struggles of the people against the unexpected weather, their resentment against the government, their steadfast spirit to remain firm despite all that has been. With a bottle of coke, we call it a day at Nick's house at round 4:30am.

Thank high heavens, it was already masingit (sunny) the next day. Although tired for last night's session, that cannot hindered our desire to explore the place. We visited Carlo first so that we will have service (he has tricycle) for our undertakings to the places. We first went to the biggest balite tree in Asia. It really deserve it's name. It's so huge, it has a hole inside where one can climb up - and we did climb. Carlo said it now even appear smaller because some branches fell and were trimmed. I was asked by Mike to take videos of them while going out from the tree. I gleefully agreed, with much excitement for the setting was like that of some Harry Potter or LOTR movies. To everyone's frustration, I forgot to press the 'capture' button on Mike's CP camera. The scene was spoiled and I was sad. :-(

Our next destination is the falls in El Pi - short for El Pimentel. The road was rough and kind of far but the reward is invaluable. To have the clear, clean, cold water drip though my body is more than enough. The place is surprisingly clean - thanks for the maintenance of the place. We then have those shots wearing our birthday suits. Wheee... When we're done, we then went to the damn dam again to meet April (again) together with other members of 'tigidudes'. And whew! the water is again inviting. I held my desire to have my body a swim. With the conspiration of whoever and whatever there was, I was able to resist it's invitation.

Then we went to what they call the Ermita Hill. The night before, Dalo said (in Maharaja) there was a time that there were only 8 families who survived the torrential weather and I was told that it was in Ermita that they seek refuge. The place is elevated and that explains. We have a good view of the Philippine Sea and some coasts, and of course the forest of Sierra Madre. It somehow gave you a bird's eye view of Aurora. Ermita is a nice site for dates and things romantic - and there were numerous couples there.

We decided not to sleep for the night and to kill the time while waiting for the bus that would take us home, we again went to Maharaja. As it was in the previous night, there were drinks, songs, dances - merrymaking and hundreds of handshakes. The dudes cannot get over those introduction and getting to know who. Of course, the talks were there and we did enjoy.

I can say my respite in Aurora is not purely enjoyment. I did enjoy but there is a certain kind of feeling that triumph more than enjoyment. I feel a certain kind of pity or something I cannot explain. The place is nice, and it has been there ever since. It is as old as Manila or Cebu but it seems Baler lagged behind. The place is so promising and I know, Baler will have it's brighter days... and I know it wouldn't be that far.

I promise to go back there.

abSENT

Never here, never there but always everywhere. Basking in the light of darkness. So illuminating, I cannot gaze. Living this life I chose. To be and always will....

The 'Diva' that is Malu Fernandez

Much has been said about this travel magazine writer and her irresponsibility over her "From Boracay to Greece" article. After it was published in The Manila Standard (whose standard is now questionable) and People Asia, she has been tailed with much hostility, which I think she vehemently deserved. Blogs with her as the topic pops out in a list should one googled her name. News bear her name and indeed, she settled extended minutes of fame, or infamy for that matter, as her article draws rave reviews.

She has resigned from her post (after several hate emails and death threats), good for her. We cannot afford to have an elitist like her to be on journalism's block. I myself was indignant after reading her article. How could such a "cultured" being so rude and discriminating over fellows of the same skin? We have been hearing enumerable stories (and rallied against) of racial discrimination our OFW's endured in a foreign land. How much painful it is to have that kind of treatment from our own "kababayan".

Feeling unease all throughout, I endured reading her piece. I want to shout afterwards. I cannot let this day pass without sharing this.

Excerpts from her article:

"The week of Easter, however, was open for both of us so I said: “Pick a country!” We decided on Greece and off we went. But getting there was a bloody nightmare. To save on my ticket, I bravely took an economy class seat on Emirates as recommended by my travel agent. Ron excitedly told me to go for it – Emirates had won best economy class and some award. However I forgot that the hub was in Dubai and the majority of the OFWs (overseas Filipino workers) were stationed there. The duty-free shop was overrun with Filipino workers selling cell phones and perfume. Meanwhile, I wanted to slash my wrist at the thought of being trapped in a plane with all of them. Of course, everyone in economy class was yelled at for having overweight hand-carries. Mine was 17kg (ssshhhh!). That was all my makeup and accessories I would never risk losing if my luggage ended in the middle of the Sahara desert.While I was on the plane (where the seats were so small I had bruises on my legs), my only consolation was the entertainment on the small flat screen in front of me. But it was busted, so I heaved a sigh, popped my sleeping pills and dozed off to the sounds of gum chewing and endless yelling of “HOY! Kumusta ka na? At taga sann ka? Domestic helper ka rin ba?” Translation: “Hey there? Where are you from? Are you a domestic helper as well?” I though I had died and God had sent me to my very own private hell."

"On my way back, I had to bravely take the economy flight once more. This time I had already resigned myself to being trapped like a sardine in a sardine can with all these OFWs smelling of AXE and Charlie cologne while my Jo Malone evaporated into thin air. However, for the first time in my natural life I was elated to go back to the Philippines so I could go back to Discovery Shores in Boracay and sip a tropical drink under the fabulous hat I bought in Greece. There I was sending MMS pictures to my buddy Ron trying to entice him to come over, but I didn’t succeed. Instead, I got two other friends join me in sipping cocktails with a fabulous sunset and ocean view while planting my feet firmly on the bug-free cement flooring by the poolside of Discovery Shores.All in all, it’s been a pretty good summer. Jetting from the Aegean Sea to the Pacific may sound a bit pretentious until you wake up in economy class smelling like air freshener."

So rude and insensitive. She should strip off her being Filipino.

Minutes After Midnight

The road was silent. Aside from the squeaking tires of cars and buses that passed by, it was only the pouring rain that made a pounding ephemeral sound. By the side I was walking, waiting for anything that would take me home. My frigid body, tired of a day's, or say a night's work, badly needed a rest. Drenched, I walked and waited like forever with only a jacket and a thick, curly hair for protection from the unforgiving rain. Buses won't take notice of me. Occasional jeepneys are full, one refused to take me in upon seeing how drenched I was. Taxis that passed by have their red lights on top that signals they are not available.

I was there waiting, let alone stand, and still. I braced myself and realized, it was all worth it.

Getting it on...

Just so because the suppose to be writer trapped in this frigid and slender body of mine shouts and that even an invictus needs a respite, here I am, traversing the road to the ever told kingdom of bloggers. Hear yeah!!! Hear yeah!!! Roll down the red carpet... the invictus is coming... winks....