A Lot of Catching Up (Part 1)

The last time I  posted was the night before the first day of the second semester. What kept me busy between the two semesters was not mentioned. Meeting friends and their partners and their children held me back from being insane. I am not used to being idle as far as I can remember. It's either I'm reading, watching something, doodling, daydreaming, chatting, talking on the phone, gardening and what have you. But I won't be caught dead doing nothing. 

As soon as the last final project landed on my table, I started checking everything. Delirious that I should be able to submit the grades of ALL my students as soon as I could. The trip to Manila is waiting at my feet. I wanted to send off Kristian who was scheduled to fly back to China after two weeks of vacation in Naga. Saturday night came, and we had a peaceful ten hours of bus ride. Upon arrival, we dropped off all of our things in his place then, we headed off to my sanctuary in Quezon City.

Tsokolate at Chocolate Kiss. Together we had Vigan Longganisa and Tapa for brekafast. Perfect Sunday!

Since it's his first time to be accompanied within the campus, I took him to my favorite spots such as the Sunken Garden, Shopping Center, the University Library, the Catholic Church and the areas where I used to reside. We've passed by the residence halls and the Academic Oval where buildings of main colleges are located. The whole morning was spent on roaming around UP and buying his groceries in Cubao. We bought items that are hard to find or can't be bought, at all, in China. On top of the list is sinigang mix, calmansi juice, instant coffee (they have coffee in China  but it's nothing like what w e have here), peanuts, mixed nuts, etc.

That afternoon was sad and gloomy not because of the weather, but because of the sole purpose that made me went as far as Manila-- to send off someone I would see next year(sniff). After he got on the cab, I went to the nearest restaurant to eat. I couldn't eat though, so I decided to go back to his place. And there you go, every single thing reminded me of him. I couldn't force myself to sleep since the sun was still up and it looked like it would stay there for a couple of hours more. I decided to turn on my lappie and looked for a movie. I ended up watching, Love Me, If You Dare.

American breakfast with Deng, my brother; Annie, his girlfriend; and me, proudly wearing my UP tee.

Soon, right after I've settled some documents in UPD, I hurried to Robinson's Galleria to meet my only brother. I took a jeepney ride from UP Campus going to MRT Quezon Ave. Unfortunately and as usual, the escalator in the said station was not working, so I had to climb/run/fly going to the train's platform. The walk from  Ortigas Avenue to Galleria was disturbingly challenging. With all the cars passing by EDSA creating smoke, noise and visual pollution, from the very hot weather that tempts the passengers to use their umbrellas, yet the narrow and crowded paths will make you think twice and give up eventually on that thought. I told my brother I felt like a dried mango seed as I made my last hurried baby steps to the spot where we agreed to meet. Blood is thicker than water, that's what they say. That is probably why I met my brother first before my friends. However, the days that had followed were fully booked with lots of catching ups.

My best friend and I at Cafe Adriatico

I woke up early the next day to go back to Cubao, where I had to meet my best friend. This is the first time in two years that we had a one-on-one talk. The house blend in Cafe Adriatico was that good that we lasted for a couple of hours wide awake. The next day, since the talk was not enough we decided to meet again. The funny thing this time is on the same spot, we've noticed that people were growing in number and there were suspicious characters in the area. Little did we know that Mar Roxas, PNoy and other government officials were having in the opposite restaurant. Later on, that same night, we had dinner with my female best friend in college at Tempura.

With Chamz, my college blockmate, roomate, turned friend for life

Ben, my fourth grade classmate, I never imagined to be my best friend.

That night was spent with two of my most favorite people in the world. We did not talk about someone who was not around that night. What we talked about was my recently announced engagement in Facebook.

Real friends would really question your decision, challenge your beliefs and most of all they would tell you ugly things that probably most people will not dare to articulate in your face. Though, our meeting was so fast, so many stories to share, but we've got very limited time in our hands, I was, indeed, happy the entire night.

It's true that I love Manila, and that I would keep coming back to Manila. However, Manila depletes my savings. It dries the well that was once filled with fresh water. I need to go back to my paradise to replenish my pockets. 

Annie, Deng and I( behind the camera) all aboard

It's time to go home. Another week is over. While my pocket is lighter as I got on the bus, my heart was heavy, not with sorrow, but with happiness, filled with optimism and hope. Sometime soon, I will be back again in this unpredictable city. A lot of catching ups. More cups of coffee to empty, more bottle of wines to be served, more stories to be told, laughter to share and wisdom to gain.

First Day High

"Oble"

Years ago, as a college student, I dreaded first day of school. It means new books to be photocopied for readings, new set of strikingly odd professors, subjects to fail or pass, shortened semestral break, family and friends to miss, and the fact that I'd be far away from the comfort of home. 

This time around, it's totally different. I have assumed the role of a teacher. Still, the worry and anxiety is there. Who will be my students? What will be my preparations for the semester?What will be my schedule? Last concern is what will I tell my students on the first day. Will they be scared of me? will they like me? Will they drop from the class?

Right after college, I've landed on several jobs before I've finally found my niche, my true love--teaching. Whatever I do and wherever I go, a certain invisible force pulls me back tot he roads of educating. It took me sometime to accept my calling. Since I've been doing it for quite some time now, I've decided to write down my FIRST DAY HIGH COMMANDMENTS to avoid misunderstanding, miscommunication and inefficiency inside the class.

This way, I would also feel prepared. And would give me the confidence and security that my students and I are meeting on the same level.

Xavier Hall, Ateneo de Naga University

FIRST DAY HIGH COMMANDMENTS

1. Thou shalt not be absent in class if you do not know how to study on your own.

2. Thou shalt not miss major examinations or requirements if you are not diligent enough to follow up on your professor next semester. 

3. Thou shalt not make excuses that are  not good enough to cover up your absence or tardiness.

4. Thou shalt not sit beside someone who is always absent if you plan to skip classes, as well.

5. Thou shalt recite in class if you are poor in written exams.

6. Thou shalt take advantage of bonus points if you perform poorly in examinations.

7.Thou shalt withdraw from class if you see that your grades are failing.

8. Thou shalt not be afraid to ask. Your teacher is not a cannibal. 

9. Thou shalt read all the reading requirements.

10. Thou shalt find friends in the class who are responsible, diligent and trustworthy because these characteristics can be contagious.

11. Thou shalt not be afraid to check your grades. There is nothing wrong in being conscious with your grades.

12. Thou shalt not sacrifice studying in exchange of putting make up on girls or brushing "Justine Bieber" type of hair for boys.

13. Thou shalt not be guilty of studying a bit too much.

14. Thou shalt be grateful for teachers who don't get absent.

15. Thou shalt  bring school materials like books, reading materials, notebooks and pencils.

A Taste of Penafrancia Fiesta after 12 Years

Nuestra Senora de Penafrancia, the mother and patron  saint of the whole Bicolandia.

At the age of sixteen, I left my hometown, Naga City for university education. Since 2000, I never had the chance of going home to celebrate fiesta which is not only significant for the Catholics of Naga City but also for the rest of Bicol. All forms of transportation going to the city every September are fully booked. Being a chance passenger is not a plausible idea during this time of the year. You might be able to reach Naga but without the luxury of a comfortable seat. Chances are you'll be on a jump seat, on the floor, in a standing position, or you could find a seat but on the aisle or boxes of chickens/roosters, pails of fish, luggage and pasalubong. Upon arrival, you'll be forced to step on others' luggage or go through the windows.  This sounds more of a horror story than a feast. So I'd rather reserve a seat weeks before this big event. To cut the story short, I didn't have time and energy to be present from 2000-2011 annual Penafrancia Fiesta.

However, each year, I try to imagine the food, the parades, the booths, an d programs for the fiesta. I salivate on the thought of the various meals prepared by my parents. I envy friends who gather and get together. I fancy going to parades like the military and the civic parade.

This year, I wen t around to feel the ambiance after 12 years of not being able to participate in the annual fiesta of our patron saint, Nuestra Senora de Penafrancia.

Near the church and the downtown Naga,  booths are erected to sell different goods, most of which are food.

  These young people above are business students from the university that I work for. Fiesta gives them the chance to create an Income Generating Project or IGP. In one of my morning walks I passed by their booth to see how their business is competing with the others.

Naga Metropolitan Cathedral Dome prepared for the arrival of Nuestra Senora de Penafrancia or Ina.

While a mass is being held at the Penfrancia Shrine, the Cathedral grounds is all prepared, despite of the scattered rain showers the whole morning, for the coming of Ina. The transfer of the image from  the Penafrancia Shrine to the Cathedral is what we call, Traslacion, which happens on  the first Friday of September. People will wait for her arrival. She will be welcomed with a mass. And for a week She will stay here until the day of the feast. After a week she will be brought to the Basilica through a fluvial procession. In between these two major events are different activities prepared for the locals and guests. This is not only for the Bicolanos but for all the devotees of Ina.  This religious event made us the Pilgrim City.

Mama's Fried Chicken Recipe

An all time Chopsuey favorite

An Ilocano dish that is well-loved by whole family, Igado

Fiestas will never be complete without food. I did not take a photo of everything we had for the guests. I only got the chance early in the morning, when no one was still around to shoo me away from the dining table. Mama would always say that probably we are richer than what we are today if we don't love eating. She cooks really well and everybody in our family, except her, loves eating. So, maybe, getting fat is not in our genes but in our lifestyle.

My father and uncle enjoying videoke together

My mum, cousins and I

A fiesta will never be complete without music and family. In almost every household a videoke machine will either be owned or  rented. Singing songs, out of tune or not, is very common when you pass by the streets. It's funny how some can only manage to belt out if under the influence of alcohol. Beer, gin and some other tonics are present to add more fun to the festive mood.





And what are food, wine, and music for without us and our guests? Relatives from   other parts of Bicol and sometimes Philippines, or the wolrd, join us in celebrating the biggest feast of the year in Bicol. This religious event does not only strenghten our families but our society as a whole. As one, we worship. As one, we revisit and validate our values. Ini ang nagpapaorag sa  samo. This makes us great as a race.

Revisiting My Father's Home Town on All Soul's Day

I love traveling. That is something that is certain. But with the rest you must guess if I am being very impulsive, indecisive at times, weird, sometimes smart, gullible, very unpredictable, naive, manipulative but subtle, prayerful though, not very religious, a risk taker/gambler, a serial monogamist, deviant but amiable. I am a firecracker in human being's body. I can bring joy, delight but if not handled properly, no matter how small I am, or trivial the words that I may say, I can be destructive.

Ooops, I am not threatening anyone here. I'm just trying to describe myself. However, I don't think that I can be boxed. I never want to entertain the thought that I can be. Never. So I ended up, letting you peep through the holes of my bright and dark rooms inside this pumping chest.

Now, relax. I was just trying to tell you that I love traveling. And I did that today, with no less than my alter-ego, the one who have always believed in me, yet challenges my decisions and my judgement all the time,. (drum rolling).. my dad!! 

November 1 and 2 of each year are marked as holidays in Philippines. The former is the All Saints' Day while the latter is the All Soul's Day. Though, it's clear what are the holidays meant for separately, there seems to be a confusion among Filipinos what is really being celebrated. Most of us have forgotten that we have to celebrate the lives of the saints who were responsible for the propagation of Catholic faith, evangelization of early settlers and their undying faith.

Unlike Western countries, we do not observe Halloween celebrations such as Trick Or Treat. Some schools in the urban and business establishments hold this kind of program either to educate children with this Western concept or of course gain from these hullabaloos. I can say though that majority of the country's population is still not acquainted with it. What is more usual during this time of the year are ghost stories. Going back to precolonial times, as a race we already had existing beliefs of spirits, unseen elements, and others such as "tiyanak" an unborn child who is looking for a mother. They are usually put on baskets somewhere near a residential area. This baby usually turns into a monster at  night time and kills people. Another element is the "kapre" which is a giant half-man half horse that smokes on trees. According to some people, you know if there is a kapre if there is smoke coming from a tree. Mananaggal is also a part of the list. At night, especially on full moons, the human body of the manananggal will divide and leave the lower part on earth while the upper part flies and look for a victim. This is somehow similar to vampires of the west. Old people would say that if ever we pass by the lower half- body of a manananggal, we must put salt so they won't be able to come back as one piece.

All these stories and more are very common during these holidays. As a good story-teller you will be listened to by younger cousins and other relatives. During November 1st and 2nd, families try to visit their hometowns. Cleaning and repainting graves, bringing flowers, lighting some candles, and reciting prayers for the souls for the departed relatives are just common. In some places, specifically private cemeteries they even have concerts or film showing so that relatives who chose to stay with their demised loved ones will not be bored the whole night and would stay awake. Fast food chains  are also visible such as Pizza Hut, Jollibee, McDonalds, etc.

Yesterday, my mum and I, went to Barangay Pacol, the Dangwa of NagaCity, where you can buy inexpensive flowers. Needless to say we bought a huge pail of assorted flowers to be offered to our dead relatives. Every year, with or without other family members, it is my father's task to bring flowers and candles to our grandfathers and grandmothers who have flown to a much, much better place called Heaven. Today, I chose to go with my dad to do this noble task. Just as I suspect, I got bitten by a travel bug, that is why my feet are restless. On the other hand, I blame my dad for the genes. My love for history, interest in politics, my spontaneity in storytelling and my happy feet were all from him.

As we left our house early in the morning, our hands were preoccupied with the bouquet of flowers entrusted to us by mama. I brought my headset. I thought I should be listening to music on our way to Tinambac. From  Bagumbayan Jeppney Terminal, it used to be a two hour travel to our hometown. So I have prepared myself for the worst. Suprisingly, I didn't use my headset  on either trip. My father had brought with him lots of stories about the places we have passed by. He knows people along the road and he reminds me of how much we are alike in so many ways.

Demesa-Cobar Ancestral House in La Purisima St. Barangay La Purisima, Tinambac Camarines Sur.

This is where my father and his siblings grew up under the care of their grandparents from maternal side. When, they, too, had their kids they brought us there to be acquainted not only with our roots but with the growing number of members of our family. This house was erected after World War II. As a kid I remember the old materials that made up this house, like the capiz on the windows that are no longer  visible due to the deterioration  in terms of quality. This is where we used to sleep over night during fiestas and sometimes Christmas or New Year. A part of my childhood will always be attached to this structure that has cradled several generations of our family.

The "apartment" where our ancestors peacefully reside, physically.

And before we forget, Papa, the one on  the right side of the picture with his classic, natural pose and I decided to go to the cemetery for we are afraid that the whole place, which is uphill, will be soon flooded with people to pay their yearly visits. Papa bought thin and short  candles instead of the fat and long ones. His purpose? I only knew it when our neighboring families were already complaining that their candles were not being consumed fast. Papa, has developed his own strategy of what type of candles and how thin and short to bring and how to arrange them together so that we can leave early. As I've mentioned above, this has been his task for several years. No doubt he has carefully thought about this.

The original central school where my great grandmother, my grandmother and her sister taught.

From the cemetery, my father showed me that the central school is  just below the hill. I attempted to take a photo from where I was standing. Seeing how difficult it was for me, he promised to take me there and to other places in the town that is so dear to him. Me and my restless feet were itching to walk, sprint, run and all the verbs I can think of. Nobody has offered me, ever, to tour the place, except for my father.

The old Municipal Hall

From the school we went to the Old Municipal hall where they still hold some public office. It is undeniable though that the building needs some restoration. Not far from here is the police station and some other offices. Next stop is a place that I am very much excited to see. I remember I've been here but I couldn't create a picture in my mind how does it look like.

Tinambac Church,(San Pascual Baylon, patron saint)

The earliest memory of this place goes back when my grandfather left the whole family grieving. I was just six years old, then. He was a soldier. I've witnessed at a young age, how they are honored in death with our flag and gun salute. I've also realized that he was a heart breaker. Several pretty women were crying in different corners, and none of them,  were our relatives. I can play my other memory of this place very clearly each time I would want to. It when our great grandfather died. We were walking to the church when a pop song was played during the procession by mistake. Having witnessed almost a full century ain't that bad, at all. We said goodbye to Papa Agoy without a heavy heart. 

We locally call it Baybay, which means sand or shore.

When I posted this photo in Facebook, my cousins who grew up in this place couldn't believe it. They thought it is something like Boracay. But it's not, it's the same old Baybay we know. With the same smell, the same crowd and fishermen. Even as I grow old, I will not forget this place and this will not fail to make me smile. Why? Because of a carnival temporarily erected in this place for that year's town fiesta, I was made to believe that they captured a real mermaid. Only to find out the next morning, that the mermaid I've seen the other night is the woman next to us buying 1 kilo of fish. Crap! That was embarrassing.

Tinambac smells copra. No kidding.

As my patient tour guide, Cho Ron, and I bid goodbye to his hometown. We bring home the memories, the photos and lastly, the smell of copra on our clothes and skin. Before the jeepney finally head  towards Naga, it makes another round within town proper to pick up passengers. Another chance to pick up pieces of our family's history, one more chance to glance at these places that might or might not change the next time we come back, one last chance to keep ourselves composed as we go back home in the city. My headset was left untouched. There were still some stories. Chattering. But gone is the enthusiasm we had earlier. Our souls were filled with gladness. Our feet need to rest. For a while:)