Saturday, April 09 2005
3:55pm

At least we aren�t screwing too much McDonalds. If that�s good news.

When we landed at around 4:30pm yesterday I did wish for a minute that we wouldn�t be having coverages set on slanted muddy mountain tops while dodging trees. We wouldn�t be, if that�s any consolation, but we�d also be spending approximately 10 days roaming around the bastard son of Binondo and Cavite that is Zamboanga City.

It was Jay who pointed out the distinct aesthetic resemblance. The area, a little bigger than Cavite, still had the �probinsyano� feeling that you�d notice from 10,000 feet high�untouched mountain areas, virgin forests and patches of archaic farming. All visible from the plane�s wing. However, the surprise came after our landing: the streets all look suspiciously like�

�It�s the bastard son of Binondo!� claimed Jay as I took a shot of the streets and its archaic buildings. It�s Manila in 1975.

From where we stood, I could see Paul and JP gingerly looking around at our first hotel prospect: something named like G hotel, my brain refused to remember. With our overly eager self-appointed tour guide–the tricycle driver–we were taken into the next potential hotel which initially got our consent�note that it got especially Paul�s–because of the beautiful perk: Jacuzzi. Next stop, Hotel Astoria.

�Bakit ayaw ninyo sa G Hotel?� I asked Paul after he settled himself next to me in the conveniently huge tricycle. Jay sat in the space in front of us and looked around. G hotel, as Manong Driver claims, is �walking distance� from the area of Prisaa, and offers nice prices anyway. In fact, MD (yes, Manong Driver. It�s hard consistently spelling his name out) seemed suspiciously too favorable of the place.

�Hindi ninyo kasi nakita yung lugar. Eh parang pag natulog tayo doon, gagawin tayong Zamboanga Scandal, eh. Ang pangit kaya!� tells Paul with disgust. As graphic ideas came into my head, a shudder came to me. No frigging way.

Jay and I were made to wait again with MD outside as Paul and JP did the checking when we got to Hotel Astoria. After a couple of unfortunate un-bookings, we decided to unload ourselves at that place and see the other hotels by foot. We gingerly paid MD P100 as he asked to be paid according to how much we think we should pay him. He gave us this look.

�Pwede bang pa dagdag? Inikot ko kayo, eh.�

Paul irately shoved an orange bill. We trooped over to another possible hotel. Alas, it couldn�t book us for the first night because of an unstable initial reservation, but offers to place us on substandard rooms while waiting for the suite of our choice to go vacant. The two tried checking out another possible hotel, then left Jay and I again inside the hotel with all our bags. I didn�t mind. There was a phone which would give me an NDD call for only P5 a minute. I�m starting to like Zamboanga already.

�Katatawag lang ni Papa mo kay Paul!� my mom greeted me on the line. Hmm. That was eager.

�Bakit si Paul ang tinawagan? Bakit hindi na lang ako?�

�Hindi ka daw makontact, eh. Kumusta na? Nasaan ka na?�

�Nasa Manila pa kami!�

�Di nga?�

I laughed. �Hindi. Dito na kami. Di ko maintindihan mga tao dito. Chabacano kasi.�

JP�s head was seen from the front door a few minutes after I placed down the phone. �Dun na tayo sa kabila,� he announced.

Jay and I brought all the bags to Hotel Perlita, our next prospect which will turn out to be our home for the next 10 days or so. We went to our respective rooms and laid on the bed.

I sighed while Paul stretched beside me. �Zamboanga. Sa wakas.�

—————————

The afternoon after, we found out that the price of our dinner last night was actually the common price of the food in Zamboanga: roughly P60 for the price of carenderia-tasting food that doesn�t even include the rice and drinks. It didn�t take us much intellect to realize that we�re fast on our way to getting broke and hungry.

Since the games will be on Monday, we had two more days to go around Zamboanga. So that Saturday, we decided to spend the afternoon playing billiards and drinking beer.

Nyeta, wala kasing bilyar at beer sa Manila.

�

That night we tried looking for other places to eat, and decided to settle for Chowking instead. At least for P50 we already have complete dinner with drinks. The night was spent on lounging around, and flicking on random channels on cable.

And that�s how we spent our first two nights in Zamboanga. Cute no?

Tuesday, April 12, 2005
02:45pm

Afraid I’m not giving Zamboanga due credit. Blame on smug city kid attitude. May have been initially amazed by overhead views of whole rolls of greens but currently mocking place for emerging as a substandard city.

Quiet Zamboanga life may be overwhelming for some people, but as much as it struck us as slightly peculiar, it has also dawned on us that most of our Zamboanga experiences would rely on the peace and quiet the city so treasures, and not the noise, excitement and adventure we were looking for. At 9pm everything shuts down. Our system doesn’t do so until 1am at the very least.

Last night, we were asked by one of the store keepers from where we had our dinner at what we like about Zamboanga. I am not sure whether what we answered were what we really “like”, but maybe just listing down differences that set Zambo apart from Manila or Cavite. Obviously the superficial peace emerged as number 1. The lady laments that behind it lies the tremors of fear aroused everytime the feet of rebels or bandits walk around the tranquil streets. It seems they were forced to endure lives that seem meek but is just an aftermath of gun-armed men’s wrath. Apparently death isn’t the only prominent by-product of bullets.

I almost wanted to enlist the nearby sea, but not much of it can be appreciated. The sun rises opposite the place of the sea, so sunrise isn’t so beautiful in Zamboanga seas. Monday morning I tried to wake up early and jog around hoping for a moment alone that both I and Zamboanga can commune with, something to possibly cherish along with other possible Zambo moments. But as I gingerly set my feet on the beach’s sandy shores filled with sea weeds and some garbage, I lamented the loss of connection I hoped would transpire. Above me a warning about high content of coliforms saddened me more. Rendering a sea unusable to nature-lovers might be the worst punishment to a sea already bereft of the white-sand beauty and cleanliness of shores.

Technology-wise though, I have not much to say. According to Matt Zamboanga imports their computers from nearby countries like Malaysia, making their systems at par with that of Manila’s. DSL’s at P20 with cameras and headsets along with their Pentium 3&4s. Not bad, actually. Even our class B hotel has wi-fi around its building.

As much as I am trying to be fair with Zambo, I cannot help but be a little impolite with my own judgements. When your expectations fail you tend to compare, and in my case, the nearest of course would be Manila and its ad-populated streets screaming of development and consumerism. But I and the rest have not really explored the outer skirts of Zam, and since time for that is precious, we might not be able to accomplish our task.

What is Zam famous for anyway? The flowers which we don’t see much of. The festival is far from our visiting date. Our calendars don’t tell us much.

But I’m still convinced I might find something beautiful in the area still. After all, I’m still around.

Hahahaha. Found this in Friendster, for April 07 2005 (that’s April 08 for us).

Oh, galing ano? Hehehe.

—————————————
You know when you get this feeling that maybe you shouldn’t say something but you say it anyway and you just feel so stupid afterwards for saying it? Somehow I was raped many times by that feeling and yet I wasn’t even able to report it to Bantay Bata before I could even stop my lips. Harm done. Now JP and Paul know how stupid I am to think that I’d actually find myself as a proudly alienated tourist over at Lucena, Quezon.

Okay. So sue me if back then I was a bumbling tourist who was just itching to get out of Cavite. I was honestly hoping I wouldn’t be able to understand the dialect of the next person I’d ask directions from when I was there. But alas, I go, “Manong, asan po ang McDo dito?” and the guy gives me the directions, his Tagalog more polished than my dad’s car in the morning.

7:10 pm. “Anong iniisip mo?! Lucena yun, eh. Luzon ka pa rin, Tagalog mga tao dito!” JP nearly screamed a while ago while we were on our way to SM Bacoor to purchase the boat tickets that would take us LATER on (it’s 1:56am, couldn’t sleep) to Zamboanga.

“Di ba Region 4 pa rin yun?” Asks Paul. They were not laughing that loud, but I was really really squirming.

“Eh malay ko bang ganoon yun. Hindi ko na naisip yun dahil sobrang excited ako, eh!” I said defiantly. Of course, I knew they wouldn’t buy that.

“Pwes, pagdating mo ng Zamboanga, doon, Cha-chavacanuhin ka dun!” Paul affirmed with a slight chuckle.

Yeah, that’s what I want. The good, authentic, out-of-Luzon-and-into-nowhere-with-hopefully-sanitized-toilets. Zamboanga, wait for us.

7:40 pm. �Hon dun lang kami sa may air phils sa tabi ng mR. quickie.� I was out rummaging for what seemed like P18 comic book sandman series of whatever at Booksale when I got the text. I left the two boys haggling at the Super Ferry counter at the east wing.

Tina says Super Ferry�s really good, except she hasn�t ridden one that�s moving on water. Brought kids on a fieldtrip, she says. I couldn�t wait myself to try it out. I haven�t really ridden a boat, save a few banca rides when my father used to have this banca in my younger years. Our trip to Thailand in �95 saw airplanes.

�Magbabarko kayo?!� My mother outrageously asked me the other night after she found out the vehicle of choice. We�re going boat to Zam, then plane back to Manila.

�Kung nalaman ko yan dati pa, hindi na kita pinayagan! Eh seasick ka, eh!�

I pause for almost a few painfully sarcastic minutes. �Uhm, ma, paano ninyo nalamang seasick ako, eh hindi pa ako nakakasakay ng barko?�

She was obviously caught.

�Wala na daw space, puno na daw,� Paul announces after I trace their location. �Plane tayo.�

�Lahat? O sa MegaValue lang?� I asked, citing the �kiddie meal/value meal� trip of Super Ferry. Honestly, it could have been better if they named it that way, and if the trip comes with a free toy.

�Lahat.�

Urk. I guess we�re flying. But the boat ride we�re saving for later.

11:08pm. Hon, old domestic airport tayo. �

Hmm. Paul�s still awake. Not a surprise, really, since probably everyone�s doing what I�m doing: not getting any sleep and downing lots of caffeine.

2.13am Click. Clack. Click. Click. Clack. Clackety clack clack clakety clack. Click click.

Can�t sleep. Can�t sleep. Canasdfkjlkjlk.lkjadslkfjalkjfoia fajdfjas;kdfja �i.

I�ve already packed up. I�m afraid I have to do a quick trip to school tomorrow to get some things at the office before we leave. No choice, I�m the nearest. If I don�t sleep I might kill my self while going to Dasma in the morning. But I still can�t sleep.

I would have provided a pic of my ticket to make this blog entry better, but I already packed my cam and cord so I won�t forget. Bringing my rechargeable too. Btw, Jace, I bought a Sanyo 2500 at Quiapo for only P1580. Max tipped me about that.

Anyway, I changed the index back so it�d forward to the blogspot page. I was supposed to redirect only after the Pope has been buried, but I might not be able to update in Zam. JP�s afraid they might have only Pentium 1 comps. Bad JP.

I�m bringing my phone anyway, so just in case, just holler!

Let me tell you how my week has been. Including pictures minimized to a mere 3×2 inches, with 70% resolution. Hey, I�m helping out your server here: it�s approximately 250kb download all in total, so it�s pretty fast, me thinks. And yes, I also realized this was this first reason why I was so excited to have a digi cam: to add pictures in my blog at any given time. (the vain side, of course, screams �all the time�)

Crashing in Binondo

Mark had bullied me into conceding to accompanying him to Quiapo last Tuesday, July 27. He had said Maycee, my editor (news), asked him to take pictures of the fallen building in Binondo, Manila, and after which we should head over to Capitol Hospital near Pantranco in Quezon City. He had reckoned maybe I should be my unusual caring self and visit our close friend Liza�s mom who recently had a stroke. I don�t have qualms about that, really, and I�d gladly visit my friends� moms at any given time, of course, but I do feel a bit sad, not really on the fact that Tita (I�d call her that now; I�m sorry I forgot her name) had a stroke and all but more on I didn�t really have a chance to get to know her more; this would be the second time I would meet her and she would be in bed.

While waiting at Mc Donald’s Baclaran

So we trekked over to Binondo, with Mark cussing every now and then for my being late. I had to nag him a lot into taking in my (somewhat valid) excuse (I did a postcard for my cousin�s birthday using Fireworks) which really didn�t do much because basically, what can he do? I was already there anyway. He he. We took a jeep to Lawton because we didn�t know the jeep we rode wouldn�t pass Divisoria (insert Cambio�s DV [DiVisoria, get it?] song here), so we still had to take another jeep to reach the site. Mark didn�t know the place, and being the usual proud person that he was he wouldn�t ask the driver for directions, so we ended up unloading ourselves a mile away from the site.

Mark clicking away.

You should have seen the way Mark gasped when we finally reached the site. Upon arrival he immediately went to the nearest OIC and flashed a press ID, and you can almost hear his photographer instincts ticking while looking at everything. The crumbles, practically occupying every place it could land on, prohibited people to pass by the site. A few people still came to look at it, even though the wreck was a few days old. It would have been better though if there were wisps of smoke everywhere, but you could still imagine it by just looking at the broken stones everywhere.

Apparently there were no casualties because they vacated the place before it finally fell down at around 4pm�good news to everyone, bad news to the press. The building was already obviously reclining for a few hours before it gave way, so it gave the people ample time to clear the streets. Mark asked around, looking for possible witnesses, checking on the stats although he knew much about the incident. �For caption,� he reasoned. I just shrugged off.

Amidst the crumbles everywhere, a nearby pharmacy flashes this sign in front of their store.

We left the place in search for fruits next. We were asked to buy for pasalubongs earlier, so the task to find suitable apples and oranges (staple visitors� fruits, whaddya know) were on us as we trudged upon the street where the Divisoria mall is standing. I could see Candice and Tina everywhere, heh heh. The place is, of course, one of the majorly Chinese inhabited places in Manila, and although the place is no Don T. Mapua (we used to go there for this favorite restaurant, Hap Chan), I couldn�t help but smile while resisting the urge to grab my phone and text the ladies up.

We emerged with a bag of Fuji apples and oranges along with a few Kiwi fruits on the side. Predictable, really.

The White Corridors

Her room was overlooking a couple of red rooftops, which gave the illusion of a reddish afternoon. Not too distant was the Iglesia ni Cristo main church, which never failed to remind me of an alien starship (forgive me, dear Iglesians. It�s not a negative thing, really) if not a huge castle, ever since I was little.

The red rooftops.

It was a slight attraction for me, of course, but I highly doubt it if it served the same purpose for Tita, although if it seemed such a sad thing for me she apparently didn�t show it. She was really jolly, and it was as if her energy didn�t level down much what with us being her second batch of the younger generation visitors she had that day. Some classmates went there earlier, and they were already loitering around the halls while we chatted with Tita inside her room.

�Dadalawin ka daw ni Dao Ming Zhi,� Mark boisterously claimed as he came to Tita�s bed seconds after he entered the door. She was the second biggest mother fan I know of, aside from Mark�s mother. Once Liza asked me to use photoshop on her mom�s portrait, putting Jerry Yan on her side.

�Andito rin po si JC,� piped in Blessy, another classmate who came in with us. I shyly recoiled to the back a bit, hiding myself behind the towering figure of Mark.

�Ah, yung Best Actress?� she asked. She then motioned to the other visitors inside the room, �Eto yung bida dun sa ginawa nina Liza, oh! Siya yung Best Actress! Ay naku, mahal na mahal ko itong mga ito,� she was showing off a huge grin. I cautiously went near her, although wanting to slowly melt what with the others assessing me curiously, and I could almost read disappointment in their minds. Eto lang pala yung batang yun.

�Kamusta po?� I asked. She was still cheery.

�Eto. Baka lalabas na ako sa Sabado,� She launched into a dozen more stories of her condition which she didn�t seem to mind too much, like as if it was not stroke she got but some flu bug she caught. Later on when the other visitors left everyone filled the room, and the noise obviously transferred from the corridors to the room. Laughter. Stories. More laughter.

At 4pm we decided to go. Everybody bid their goodbyes one by one and promised to see her when she�s well again. I was the last to go. I held her hand, smiled, then bid my goodbye. I was about to head for the door when I stopped, realizing I was alone with her in the room.

�Alam ninyo po,� I started. I didn�t know how I was going to launch it. �nung nalaman po sa klase na nagkasakit kayo, lahat po gustong pumunta para bisitahin kayo,�

She smiled. �Talaga? Salamat naman.�

I nodded. �Opo. Lahat po sila nagkukuwento kung gaano po kayo kabait sa kanila.�

She grinned even more. �Talaga, ha?

I slowly nodded. �Nalulungkot nga po ako kasi, ngayon ko lang po kayo talagang nakilala. Nung una ko po kasi kayong nakita, saglit lang. Nung piyesta kina Mark. Kaya po gusto ko rin pong pumunta dito, eh.�

�Huwag kang magalala,� she tapped my hand, �pag nakaalis na ako dito sa Sabado, magpapawelcome party ako,�

�Sige po!� I laughed.

We exchanged more smiles. Then I bid my goodbye.

Yesterday’s Saturday. Hopefully, she already left the hospital for home.

Late na naman.

Late na naman ako for our meeting at 1pm last Wednesday sa office. At late din ako for our class, which was slated at two o� clock.

Sometimes, I really don’t know what�s making me do all these.

JD and I after class.

Me using the internet at the HF office. The guy behind me is Eric James, the brain behind the ingenious site, http://ijames.co.nr

J.E. checking his Nicksplat account.

Beneath the tall buildings

GT Tower. Sandwiched between RCBC and LKG Tower .

Thursday saw me accompanying Mark to Facial Care Clinic over at GT Tower in Ayala for a consultation regarding his facial sensitiveness. I waited at the lobby flipping over this Bluprint Magazine–something about architecture and arts, if I�m not mistaken. I was getting bored.

Bored stiff.

There was this feature about ten �hot� men of the arts and architecture world, which included Kuya Robert of the former GMA 7�s Art-Is-Kool main man and Manu Sandejas of Studio 23�s Detour. I didn�t know the latter works in advertising aside from being a host. After flipping a few pages, I chanced upon the write up on the fourth man, Cesar Augusto S. Concio III. I wondered if he�s related to Conch, which is also funny because Cesar uses the same nickname Clarissa S. Concio, the managing editor of MTV Ink, uses. Conch. Also known as the huge shell you put near your ears to hear the ocean.

Cesar Concio III. His grandfather apparently designed the Melchor Hall at University of the Philippines.

Inside the elevator.

Outside the building, with Mark on the side reprimanding me.

It required P28,000 to continue the treatment, Mark soon learned. He was glum all the way to Glorietta. Everybody knows as much as I do that he wanted more than anything to finally have his skin tested for its sensitivity which induced a lot of pimples, but 28,000 is not exactly in his priority list right now. To cheer him up, we decided to raid all the boutiques we wanted and invade their fitting rooms while silently taking pictures of ourselves inside. Mark found this really good sweater at Marks and Spencer which he reckoned looks good on him, so that somehow cheered him up.

I didn�t have copies of HIS photos, but after he found out I’d do this, he willingly gave me his poster. You’ll see him on the bottom of this page. For the meantime, this is my batch of weirdness:

Over at Calvin Klein. No, I was just wearing my usual clothes.

THIS was from CK.

From Whoops!

The cheerleader skirt Mark took from the racks and threw at my face.

No, I’m not pregnant.

You can click on the pic to see the large size.