Tuesday, March 20, 2007
. . . nothing exists unless it is written. . . To end, let me quote a most endearing thought by Natalie Goldberg, author of "Writing Down the Bones": "Writers live twice. They go along with their regular life . . . But there's another part of them that they have been training. The one that lives everything a second time." This is my last post for today. . . I do have so much to do-- it's just that I can't help myself from writing all these down. . . must satiate . . . must satiate! Sounds carnivorous but hey, I'm a vegetarian (lacto-vegetarian). Thankfully, truly truly thankfully that I live in Baguio! Speaking of the title that was supposed to have been my focus (forgive the deviation), as a Baguio dweller, one incident on Saturday, February 24 put me to a bit of shame to actually ignore and avoid this festival--- okay, okay, so nothing's perfect but let me explain this: Sans the fact that riding behind my husband on a motorbike just to get to town that morning . Despite the blur of traffic wrought by people and cars, something was lucid before my eyes: People make all the trouble to get here. . . There MUST be something about the Flower Festival now. I guess the power of the critical mass that seems to have spark a thrill for the festival has gotten me. Oh but make no mistake that I've never held the Baguio Flower Festival close to my heart. I actually worked for the John Hay Poro Point Development Corporation specifically under Atty. Bangaoet-- so this was five years of being the working staff of the Flower Festival. To cut it short, all I'm saying is that while I've always seen the festival as work-- this year I paid attention to being a tourist-- what it was like. . . People pushing, people straining, people forgetting their snags in life. . . It was hot, but it was simply great.
. . . nothing exists unless it is written. . . To end, let me quote a most endearing thought by Natalie Goldberg, author of "Writing Down the Bones": "Writers live twice. They go along with their regular life . . . But there's another part of them that they have been training. The one that lives everything a second time." Last February 13, my daughter, Calille (named after Kahlil Gibran), went on her first field trip to Leisure Coast, Dagupan. I took a leave from work; I psyched myself to enjoy the day; I thought it would just be a typical family day. I was dead wrong--- Because I asked myself one question at the end of the day--- what if, just what if, I actually went on more field trips when I was younger--- would I have become a different person? I consider myself fairly brave with facing challenges (like jumping off a rope set high up 30 feet beyond the ground -- high ropes course), upfront with people and tasks (I teach teenagers-- so THAT alone qualifies me) and frank (I'm happily surviving seven years of marriage aint I? And heck, I get to blog!). So, here's something out of the ordinary from my ordinary world-- First, my daughter rode on a bus by herself with her class (8 kids, Nursery class).-- not that that was new; second and more climactic was that my daughter, without hesitation took the slides on and on and on and on and on. Okay, sigh, so I couldn't. I wonder what stopped me. Up to now I'm saying to myself-- I've given birth, I can do anything!!!!!!!!!!!!! Guess I need to repeat this mantra the next time I face a water slide. . . Mental note: Must get to Leisure Coast and face my demons!
This is one sanctuary that is specially reserved as a watering hole when my best friend Christina comes from Manila. She's a Baguio dweller as well. . . A staple favorite is Ruins' Coffee-- reasonably priced at 25 bucks, I could have a maximum of three servings. I usually go on food quests: The criteria would be (not necessarily in particular order) taste, price (the deal I get), and ambiance. . . I actually have successfully replicated the same taste as the one in Ruins' coffee. Just looking at the picture makes me want to mix one, right now. To Cafe by the Ruins, may you forever be a staple fixture that distinctly makes life in Baguio all worth it!
. . . nothing exists unless it is written. . . To end, let me quote a most endearing thought by Natalie Goldberg, author of "Writing Down the Bones": "Writers live twice. They go along with their regular life . . . But there's another part of them that they have been training. The one that lives everything a second time." After our trip to Tam-Awan, the blissful glow of visiting tourist spots got us going. Back during the days when I would look at photo exhibits around here, I would wonder where do photographers get to have perfect shots of these lotus flowers. . . "In Baguio? I'd say to myself . . . nah! Impossible!" Guess where these came from-- Chinese Bell Church! The drive to the entrance is an elusive one-way fairly concreted road ending to a surprisingly spacious parking space. If you come in the morning, you are greeting by the "far from Baguio" ambience. . . For a moment, (now this was not a duh moment) believe me I actually was reminding myself that I was just by marker between Baguio and La Trinidad. So we rose up the stairs, took a look at the gardens, and lo and behold, I stood in awe at the modest grey ensemble of a fountain nestled, peppered, bedded lotus pods and flowers. Aaaaah bliss. . . Christina and I went inside the temple and did some prayerful wishes. . . The blessing simply said: All is good. And guess what, I truly believe it!
Monday, March 19, 2007
Okay, call me a victim but I've been rendered useless and voiceless for the past three weeks. It's just frustrating to keep calling Smart Bro and making a follow up every stinking day. Humph. . . Yes, I do go on-line at work but there are restrictions at work . . . so I couldn't. Anyway, do I have a line up of stuff: long delayed. . . but never mind. We look into the refreshed and regained empowerment of connection. This was in good 'ol Tamawan-- the rice festival that happened early February 11. While the place is bordered by more than the so-called "signs of progress". Thanks to my best friend, Christina, who heeded to the call of going back to Baguio and checking out the usual tourist staples. So there we were at refreshing Tamawan. I do remember the days when we had poetry readings there. For a group of college students and young free single workers like myself, spending a weekend afternoon of poetry in a place like Tamawan was truly an experience worth rehashing in the mind. . . One story that I would always never fail to tell my students. . . How a group of people bound by the lure of sheer intoxicating poetry would disregard the fact that an approximately 5 kilometers to Session Road was an effortless walk. . . a stroll and a conversationtake one's mind off time, distance, and seeming labor. Well, cheers to Tam Awan. . . By the way, as I write, I'm making this mental note of going back there this weekend and get myself some portraits done by the artists there. . .What a picker-upper. I love Baguio!