If I Could Buy More Time To Be A Poet

If I could buy more time to be a poet, I would

Take you somewhere we can be alone

In an abandoned castle perhaps where our stories once lived.

I'll read my verses and you will listen

And not understand a thing but we'll hear the walls shake

And the ground will feel like water under our feet.

You will lean over for a kiss when it is over

And I will give up my lips like giving up my pride

Knowing that words are currents that must flow through skin 

Before they can enter the mind.

And one day you will realize how the words

That did not make any sense to you

Were actually the prayers that you have left

Unuttered, folded away in a secret place

That even I cannot reach.

Paul Auster's Oracle Night

This is not a book review. If it is, I would have to dissect, analyze and piece together the three stories within this novel which is a torturous thing for me to do at this moment. Oracle night is a story within a story within a story. It is the story of Lemuel Flagg, a British Lieutenant of World War I, of Nick Bowen, an editor at a New York publishing house who made The Great Escape of his life, and of Sidney Orr, the writer who created Nick Bowen from the pages of a mysterious Portuguese notebook and whose life takes on a bewildering turn after doing so.

I loved the Nick Bowen episode. Mostly because of his larger-than-life decisions, and also because his story didn't have an ending and nobody knows what happened to him. He might as well have died, but nobody knows for sure, not even Sidney, who created him. His story is a prime example of starting over a new chapter of one's life, but not in a warm, fuzzy, feel-good way. After having had a near brush with death, Bowen decides that a new life has been given to him and immediately leaves for a new city without going home to pack his things or even telling his wife about it. He checks in at a hotel, phones a woman he has met once and declares his love for her, and goes out to shop for clothes only to find out that his ATM  and credit cards have been cancelled. With only a small amount of cash in his pockets, he skips out on the hotel bill and goes looking for the only person he knows in Kansas City--Ed Victory, the taxi driver who drove him to the hotel.

His bad luck doesn't there. Ed Victory hires him as a telephone book sorter in the dubiously named Bureau of Historical Preservation, and through a bizarre twist of events, Bowen ends up being locked up alone in full darkness in an underground bomb shelter. Sidney Orr has no idea how to get him out of that desperate situation, and so he leaves the story unfinished. Pretty frustrating, if you ask me.

Nick Bowen and Sidney Orr are interchangeable characters. They both make a living in the writing/publishing industry, they almost have identical wives, identical dilemmas. As I was reading through the novel, I get the weird feeling that their stories are beginning to merge. Sidney Orr's friend pops up in the Nick Bowen story and I have to go back several pages to make sure that he really is Orr's friend, and not a new character in the Bowen story.

Oracle Night is not the story of Nick Bowen, though. It is mostly Sidney Orr's story and of how the written can mysteriously foretell the events in the life of the writer. Although, technically, Oracle Night is the story of Lemuel Flagg. I know I'm not making any sense here, so might be better if you just find out for yourself. :)

Garden Apathy

It's a crisp Monday morning and we see
Desmond tending to his garden.
And what a beautiful garden it is--
Rows and rows of fairy cabbages,
Ballerina lettuce that dance
In glittering tutus all day, sweet uni-corns.
There are the weeds, of course,
Weeds that get angry when Desmond pulls
Them out by the hair.
But they're blind and cannot see the fate
That await them.
Desmond chucks them into the fire.

Hey! The pumpkins shouted from not far away.
Over here, young master! Our throats are parched
And we need our sparkling cider.
Hey! The sexy orchids cooed from their vines.
We're bored, come and tell us a story.
Hey! The pretty sunflowers called out.
We need our sun, get us away from this shade.
Hey! The sergeant tomatoes growled.
You think you the boss here? We the boss here!
Hey! The sweet peas.
Hey! The potatoes.
Hey! The carrots.
Hey! The purple yams.

There's so much work that needs to be done.
Desmond does not complain.

Down by the south fence, a lone apple tree stands.
Desmond goes over and picks up the rotten apples
Fallen to the ground.
They're bruised all over and they look at him
Without a word.
And because they're useless and good as dead,
Desmond decides to love them the most.

He throws them to the fire together with the weeds.

Response

You say I am lazy but the truth is I am

Afraid of the flare of the lamp that gropes

For my eyes, terrified of the endless

Catastrophic pillows that smother my dreams

While wide awake at two A.M

Staring at curious shadows

That clamor to be vulgarized

Unsure of who or when or where

And why.

The world is governed by chance

Is not a cute adlib.

It is a war cry.

A Necessary Evil

People take one look at my newly cropped hair and ask--did I just break up with somebody? Isn't it just the most natural thing for a girl to do? Like what Bea Alonzo did in One More Chance?

Well, I'm not spilling any beans here, but my cutting my hair short is as simple as it is complicated. For a girl, it is always a major event. As if the hair has a soul of its own, and snipping it off is equivalent to cold-blooded murder.

I miss my long hair. I miss the absolute freedom of being able to flip it, twirl it, let it hang loose on my shoulders, gather it in a nice ponytail, bubble it up in the shower, or just pull at it when I'm feeling stressed out. But I've been wanting to don short hair (again) for quite some time already, so I chopped it all off. But I miss it now.

Knowing these things, if I could turn back the hands of time, will I still choose to cut my hair? I would say it is inevitable. There would have been no other feasible option. Even if I will regret it later on, I will still choose to do it because I know I would be forever restless if I didn't.

I find it cool and sad and amusing that you have to lose something first before you can begin to love it.

Oh well.

Lost in Sagada (Part 2)

to continue...

5. Chill. Most people go to Sagada seeking for a little bit of outdoor fun. Usually, it's caving and trekking that tops the list of must-do activities. For those on drama mode (like me at that time, I shamefully admit), Sagada can also be the perfect spot to do a little retreat. The town is quiet, charming, the air is cool and the views are just splendid. I think I spent more than half of my time there just reclining in a chair, reading and writing. Here are my favorite chill-out spots:

Bana's Cafe

Not your typical cafe of the Starbucks variety. It doesn't look very appealing from the outside and one would be hard pressed to find it when passing by the road. But the place, once you get inside, is very cozy--especially at the dining area by the terrace where I usually sit for my cup of coffee. And since September is an off-peak season for tourist influx, I virtually have the whole place to myself. I always have my breakfast here. Meals are not exactly exceptional, but the coffee is. At P30/cup, their freshly brewed Cordillera coffee is a far cry from their overpriced counterparts at the more posh cafes in the metro. One can also sample here a more exotic blend of coffee, the Kape Alamid, which is made from the droppings of the alamid or the civet cat ( if you're curious to know what sh*t tastes like, then try this one). :-p

early morning at Bana's Cafe

Another view of the dining area

Kape Alamid

Kanip-Aw Pines View Lodge

People do not travel just to get holed up in a lodge or hotel, but you might want to rethink about this place. This is hands down the best lodging I have ever had while travelling. They have a spacious common room which I totally adore, with glass windows allowing guests a majestic view of Mt. Kanip-Aw. The best part is being out on the terrace. On early mornings, the place is so beautifully quiet and all you can hear is the chirping of the birds and the rushing sounds of a nearby river (really. this is not an exaggeration).

the common area

best place to write

early morning view from the terrace

6. Strolling around town. The air gets thin high up in the mountains but strolling around town is never an arduous task. With views getting more splendid the farther away you are from the town center, doing a bit of hiking can be quite rewarding. On my last morning in Sagada, I did some solo trekking, trying to locate the entrance to Sumaguing Cave. Not really hard to find, though, as the locals are very friendly and will gladly help out with directions.

Episcopal Church of St. Mary the Virgin

students on an outdoor art class

on the way to Sumaguing Cave

still on the road

Kapay-Aw rice terraces

stairway leading down to the cave entrance

entrance to Sumaguing Cave

The thing I don't like about Sagada? Nights. Freezing cold and awfully quiet. It can get very lonely being all by yourself. What made it even worse is that there is no signal for Sun Cellular, the Smart tower is undergoing repair, no wifi even, and all the mini-groceries and sari-sari stores are out of stock of Globe sim. I was virtually cut off from all sort of outside communication. It makes the feeling of isolation even more pronounced. Nights forced me to be alone with the thoughts I would rather not recall, which is a very maddening thing. I eagerly waited for the morning to rescue me from that lonely pit.

Minus the nights, though, I would say that my Sagada experince has been generally pleasant and charming. The best thing I realized about being alone is that, well, it sucks. But solitude does have its perks. It is both beauty and madness. And sometimes, we just need to escape every once in a while  to appreciate the things we oftentimes take for granted (e.g. cellphone signals).

I will be coming back to this place definitely. I haven't done the Sumaguing-Lumiang cave connection yet and I am aching to go on that trek to Kiltepan and the Bomod-ok falls. But I don't think I would want to do it alone next time. If any of you want to come along and if you're willing to endure a 24-hour land travel, just contact me. :)

'Til the next road trip.

Lost in Sagada (Part 1)

Finally! I fulfilled one of my birthday wishes this year: To travel in some far-flung town high up in the mountains. Alone.

After having filed my three-day leave from work, I packed my bags, trooped to the bus terminal in Sampaloc and chose a window seat. My destination: Sagada, Mountain Province. I took the Banaue-Bontoc route going to Sagada, and the Baguio route returning back to Manila to sort of do a circle around northern Luzon and make the most of the road trip. And what a trip that was! 9 hours from Manila to Banaue, 2 hours from Banaue to Bontoc and an additional hour, finally, from Bontoc to Sagada. Going back, on the other had, entailed 6 hours each from Sagada to Baguio, and Baguio to Manila. That's a total of 24 solid hours of butt and back aching road travel. I pity the driver who would have to endure this kind of ordeal behind the wheel. 

Actually, I was about to write a very detailed account of this trip, but I got bored two pages into the narrative and just scrapped the whole thing. So I guess I'll just be writing down the things that impressed me the most about this solo travel experience.

So here goes, in no particular order:

1. Little pleasant surprises. I saw this glued into the window next to my seat on the bus going to Banaue:

I thought at first that it was some quaint little project by the bus company, much like the Berso sa Metro where one could see verses of poetry scattered inside the MRT, but when I scanned the other windows, all were clear except for mine. Somebody must have pasted that quote some time ago while going to Banaue. He/she must have also been a lone traveler like me. I found the verse comforting. It's almost as if I was meant to be seated at that exact same spot , as if those lines were meant for me. Shocks, drama mode!

2. Beautiful, beautiful mountains. Some of the most amazing and breathtaking mountains that I have ever seen in my life can be found along the Halsema Highway on the Bontoc-Sagada and Sagada-Baguio routes. Mountains ranges as far as the eye can see. Valleys. Terraces. Clouds settling on mountaintops. The sights were really something.  Too bad I was not able to take pictures since I was always on the wrong side of the vehicle (must make mental note to seat myself at the driver's side of the bus next time). I am including here instead some photos I took of the rice terraces in Banaue, since I was able to do some roaming around while waiting for the van that will take me to Bontoc.

3. The kindness of strangers. I met this young couple, Stanley and Catherine, while on the van going to Bontoc from Banaue. They were both locals: Stanley, a miner from Baguio and Catherine, a wag-wag / ukay-ukay vendor from Sagada. They were such a friendly bunch. The two of them, along with another local entertained me along the way with stories about Banaue and Sagada. When we finally got off at Bontoc, we found out that we still have an hour before the jeepney to Sagada leaves. Seeing perhaps that I was on my own, Stanley and Catherine offered to take me with them to stroll a bit around town. They even took me to lunch and paid for my meal. Since they will also be going to Sagada the next day (Catherine will be touring Stanley around town since it will be his first time to visit the place), they told me that if I wanted, I can go with them so I can save on tour guide costs. I was touched by the kind offer. And to think that they were complete strangers. You will not see anything like this in Manila.

4. The kindness of dogs. Really. Even dogs are friendly in this part of the country. It all began when I decided to explore Echo Valley. Since I didn't want to pay for a tour guide, I went to the tourist information center and asked the kind man behind the counter if I could go there on my own, and he said yes. He even drew this map for me to make sure that I do not get myself lost:

 The trail may look simple, but it's actually made up of frighteningly narrow paths on the side of a cliff. The crosses on the upper portion of the map indicate a local cemetery, and from there, the "leisurely" walk begins. 

the path to Echo Valley

wedged my cam between 2 rocks so I can take this "candid" picture of me looking over a cliff

resting my feet and enjoying the view

The trail ends with a view point where across the valley one could see the famous hanging coffins of Sagada. I lingered there for a while admiring the view and taking some terribly blurry photos of the coffins. I can actually take another path that would lead me down the valley and to the mountain across where I could see the coffins up close. But the downward trail looked scary and I got even more apprehensive upon seeing this stone marker:

What if I fall off a cliff while making my way down the valley? I didn't want to die there alone with no one to witness my death. So instead of going down the valley, I climbed my way up to "Calvary", the top of a hill where a tall wooden cross is erected. Going up seemed easier than going down since since I can be more sure of my footing. I can also be on all fours, holding on to weeds or tree trunks or rocks (Reckless decision on my part. Do not try this on your own, unless you're confident in your climbing skills). 

And so, LUCKILY, I was able to reach Calvary. Hooray. The imminent problem then was: How do I get back down? It was then that I realized that I did a very stupid thing. As I was pondering on my dilemma, a dog appears out of nowhere. He began circling around me, sniffing at my feet. As I was about to pat his head, he moved away, going into a certain direction. He stopped and turned to look at me. When I was about to approach him again, he began moving further along. It was as if he was telling me to follow him. And so that was what I did. I followed him and to my surprise, I discovered that he was leading me back to the cemetery where my walk began earlier. 

What a blessing. I patted his head and whispered thank you. He followed me all the way down to the edge of the cemetery. When I turned back to look for him so I could take another photo, he was gone.

It was my little miracle in Sagada.

(Part 2 to follow)

  

Give Me The Energy

Kapuso Mo, Jessica Soho featured a story tonight on residents in Butuan City getting free LPG straight from their water wells. People noticed at first a gust of air coming out while they're pumping water. This "air" turns out to be methane, a valuable energy/fuel source,which some residents have tapped for use in their homes. Instead of buying LPG tanks, they only need to channel the methane into their homes through improvised tubing systems, and voila, they now have gas whenever they need it.

While this is incredible news, what I found really more incredible is how the local government, upon being asked, told the reporters that they cannot do anything to further harness this potential energy source. Funds are not sufficient. Imagine how much the city can benefit if they could extract their own fuel for domestic use instead of having to rely on commercial fuel which can be very expensive. They have this enormous opportunity staring at them in the face, and yet, they are unable (or unwilling) to do something about it.

I am writing this because I have recently been reading up on alternative energy sources and found out that we have actually lots of options when it comes to extracting energy for domestic and industrial use. Our very own Philippines, in fact, is sitting on the "Ring of Fire", that portion beneath the surface of the earth where tectonic plates come together and temperatures are hottest, which makes us a very potent source for geothermal energy. And I am writing this not because I am claiming to be an energy / scientific expert (although while I was reading the book, my secret yearnings of being a scientist has surfaced and I wished I had taken up chemistry or physics instead in college--which of course, I have not given any thought while I was in college), but because I am both amazed at all this newly-discovered potential, and saddened that no one--to put it simply--cares. The government has more issues to prioritize (next to amassing exorbitant wealth) than the energy/climate issue. And the Filipino citizens are too busy updating their Facebook status.

Oh if only I were a scientist. Or a senator.

Censored

At a barbecue grill/acoustic bar on Friday night:

Boy: I hope you don't mind if I sit here. I'm (insert name here). You are?

Girl: (insert another name here).

Boy: (pronounces name wrongly), is it?

Girl: No.. (correct name pronunciation).

Boy: Oh, I see.. (utters girl's name correctly, finally)..

Girl: (nods)

(dead air)

Boy: You have a nice name.

Girl: I know.

Boy: You're in the same department with (common friend's name--common friend is sitting right next to Boy), right? Are you her boss?

Girl: Yes and No.

Boy: (laughs for no apparent reason).

Girl: Ikaw? Sang department ka ba?

Boy: Down in (particular floor in the building). I'm with (so and so manager's name) team, handling (so and so designation). Hey...I like this song (moves his head in tune with the beat of the song playing loudly in the background)..

Girl: (turns to face another friend sitting on the other side, talking in their local dialect)

Boy: (after girl turns back to look at him) Oh, from what province are you?

Girl: (province)

Boy: (incredulous look) Really? You don't have the accent..

Girl: Meron yan. Maingay lang kase kaya di mo marinig.

Boy: I swear, it's not halata.. (Province), right? Hey, that's great! I've been there before with some friends. We went to this beach in, you know, (locality)..We stayed in (leisure hotel) for 5 days. We also came to watch the (festival/mardi gras).

Girl: Ah okay.. Nanood kayo ng street parade?

Boy: Ah no. We just went to the after-parties. Inuman with my friends. We just saw, like, the last 5 minutes of the last street dance.

Girl: That's bad. You went to watch the (festival/mardi gras) but you never actually saw (festival/mardi gras).

Boy: I don't mind. (takes a gulp of his beer). Hey.. is it true that (women from the girl's province) are notorious drinkers?

Girl: What makes you say that?

Boy: Hmm, well, I just noticed. They drink all night. Hanggang morning. Grabe kung mag party..

Girl: (shrugs) I dunno.

Boy: (takes another sip of his beer)

Girl: It depends, I guess.

Boy: On what?

Girl: On the company.

Boy: Ahh..

(silence)

Boy: We also went to the (famous local landmark). Yun lang pala yun.. I mean, like, no offense, I thought it was this great historical structure, pero well (slight laugh), it was kinda just ordinary-looking lang pala.

Girl: Disappointed?

Boy: Oh, no. Syempre you must be proud of it (crooked smile). But I love the (famous local delicacy).

Girl: (takes a sip of water).

Boy: Hey..sobering up?

Girl: I'm thirsty.

Boy: Oh by the way, have you ever been to (popular destination in Luzon)? We went there, like, a couple weeks ago. You should make pasyal there sometime.

Girl: Excuse me, I just need to go the ladies room. (exit)

End.

The moral of the story? When somebody mispronounces your name, it's usually a bad omen.

   

I Am My Own Worst Cliche

'Nuff said. Let the cartoon be a warning.

(or maybe I should just open my own Twitter account and heap my rantings there since that's what everyone does anyway)