Lingering Scent

It was 3 o'clock in the morning. I was jolted from a deep slumber only to realize that my heart was beating too fast. I initially panicked but after a few seconds of trying to calm myself down, I recalled having a dream just before waking up. In the dream, I was taking a stroll with someone along a moonlit and deserted street. The stranger's scent, to my amazement, kept lingering on my pillows even as I was awake. This made my heart palpitate even faster.

The fresh, minty smell mildly resembled a favorite perfume* and instantly reminded me of someone whom I last walked with under an August night sky.  That actual stroll was months ago, but the one in dream brought me a kind of odoriferous ecstasy. The scent gave a kind of frosty air in the room and a breezy feeling even under the sheets. It enveloped me in a haunting embrace.

Half-awake, and still flushed with racing heartbeats, I silently wondered how a fragment of one's dream could so easily slip into the neighboring reality. Yet the scent was all the proof there was. As I slowly breathed you in, the lingering perfume brought in a calming feeling. The scent started lulling me back into dreamland where, hopefully, it would lead me to another stroll with you.

*Davidoff's Game, CK's Eternity or Bulgari's Soir

Rooted on My Mind

After my Tawi-Tawi trip, I was able to enjoy a week-long stay in Manila. Afterwards, it was off to Marawi City. At first, we planned on staying longer as we expected a lot of work. However, due to the forthcoming Ramadan, we decided on a one-week stay only. 

Adjusting to the Maranao culture, compared to Tausug, seemed to be more challenging for me. However, with the help of our coordinator, we had won the trust of the key leaders by the end of our stay and got to understand the context. After the immersion, we made plans to go back for a series of trainings.

We stayed in this beautiful, tribal-inspired Ayala Resort near the Mindanao State University which overlooks the great Lanao Lake. The cold weather in Marawi was made even frostier by the presence of big, ancient tress that towered over the resort's cottages. I was given an amazing T'boli cottage during my whole stay. A few feet away from the veranda was a century-old Balete tree. At night, I would invite my companions for coffee on the porch while watching the fireflies turn my Balete into one giant Christmas tree.

(No, this story does not end with just a magical description of Belete trees and fireflies. Not yet.)

After one week in Marawi City, my colleague and I found ourselves heading back to Cagayan De Oro (CDO) City, from where we would be taking our flights to Manila the following day.

(Now, this is where the story gets more exciting.)

Prior to leaving Marawi, Gerry and I had been exchanging texts. I learned that he was in Davao at that time and also had plans to drop by at CDO for a business meeting. So, we agreed to meet that night upon our individual arrival in CDO. After dinner, we went club-hopping and conversed like good old friends.

Upon calling it a night, I offered to drop him off at his hotel. While inside the cab, I found myself wondering at the irony of things. Our paths (as ex-partners) had converged once again, this time in a strange city (and a lonely night, at that). At times, the apparent convenience of things seemed too tempting, but I was also appalled and suspicious of its nature.

Gerry mentioned something about coffee as we were approaching his place. If I head back to my hotel, I said to myself, I might as well be ready to face a sleepless night. Right now, fate was offering some kind of a playful irony. Indeed, it sometimes grants wishes and can even personify a towering Balete tree straight from the backyard of one's mind.

The suspicious side of me, however, said otherwise. Despite Gerry's permanence in myself, it  always wanted to end any story in reality.

Magsukul Tawi-Tawi!

I just got back from Tawi-Tawi a few days ago. Too many adventures and stories to tell. I stayed there for a month and went to far-flung islands, areas that I never thought I would set foot in. Aside from winning new friends and devouring the delicious cuisine, I came out with a Tawi-Tawi tan.
Also, I cannot wait to share with my colleagues the insights and realizations I had from this trip.

Magsukul* to that wonderful experience!

---
*Tausug word for thanks.

Luck and Lack of It

The last time I wrote something about a movie (in my old blog that no longer exists) was upon seeing Half Light. The characters of that movie really struck me. Now, this new musing is triggered by the movie Just My Luck starring Lindsay Lohan which we saw last Monday.

This is not really about that movie. Rather, it is more about the idea of LUCK just hanging around the corner. I will not go into details, but I'd say it was one of those lucky moments of bumping into someone the second time around for two days in a row. It was just amazing.

I've never been reminded that I could see much from another person's eyes. They really told a lot. More so, I'd never expected I'd be caught one day in a complicated situation such as this. But that's life. You got your so-called luck, and then you have to eventually face the reality. There's really truth to that situation where a person "runs out of luck". But luck wouldn't be luck if it were always there. There's luck because it only comes once in a while.

For one week that we were together, this person has already been special to me. But I don't know where this is going. I want to just hold on to my feelings, to just seize the moment, and never really care about the consequences. Luck is out of the question. It's something deeper than that. But one thing I've realized, luck is neither luck nor lack of it. It's the decisions we make and the roads we take that define our luck.

I'm still confused. This is because this person already means a lot to me.

Sulu: Part 2

After spending days in Jolo and Indanan municipalities in mailand Sulu via a Seair flight from Zamboanga City, our site coordinators and I were off to the small island municipality of Siasi. The island is accessible only by a 6-hour ride via an old, wooden and crowded ship. No list of passengers was made, only ticket stubs were required to enter the ship. As such, I held on tightly to a plastic bag containing my life jacket which had bright neon colors and reflectors all over it (as I brilliantly planned during my previous entry). The chaos inside the ship amid the repeated showing of an old FPJ movie made the trip more interesting. Outside, the long strips of white sand was a feast to the eyes. I was in awe. Boracay beach would pale in comparison.

Siasi is an old island town with grey wooden houses reminiscent of old Philippines. One would surely catch a nostalgic feeling and feel that time stood still. Because there were no lodging inns in the area, we were accommodated at the Mayor's residence. From my room, there was a great view of an old mosque. Wherever I look - people, houses, mosques - all have a sense of antiquity.

Sulu: Part 1

Not

Nothing beats an early morning flight over a brewing storm.

Last week, I set foot in Mindanao for the first time. What made it more meaningful was the fact that I got to spend a week in Sulu, one of the most isolated, conflict-prone and poorest areas in the country. Part of my work requires me to travel to some of our project sites in the ARMM. 

The trip was a learning experience for me as much as it was fun. Not only did I get to appreciate my work even more, the trip also opened my eyes to the beauty and richness of the Muslim culture, especially the Tausug's. Beneath the dark environment of Sulu and the air of conflict, it has a lot to offer. The deserted beaches made of pure white sand, the rich taste of its cuisine, the nostalgic rituals, and the smiles on children's faces - this is the other side of Sulu.

Nag-iisa

Nag-iisa
by Uturn

Ang mata'y pilit pinipikit
Mawala nararamdamang sakit
Luha ko'y di mo man marinig
Dumadaloy sa awit...
Hapdi man ay di maalis
Sugat ng puso'y tumatamis
Pag-ibig man pagkakamali
Hinahanap ang sandali...
Tingnan paligid mo
Kay raming pusong nagdurugo
Di ba't tayo'y nagsumpaan
Di tayo matutulad nila
Bakit nag-iisa?
Maskarang ngiti hanggang kailan?
Matatago malungkot kong larawan...
Kahapong iginuhit natin
Tinatangay ng hangin...

*It was one rainy night. My friend and I were hanging out in Starbucks near UAP. Then a group of students on the other table was playing this song over and over again. I was so swept away. Sometimes, I prefer songs that are not known by many. This one is. And the rest of the songs in Uturn's album is very good, too. I'm a new fan.

Thrown into Unchartered Waters

Today is my first day in my new job. It will be, as it turns out, a case of many firsts.

Joining this organization is a little unnerving. But in the years that I had been dealing with them, I have begun to love their advocacy and the people, not to mention the numerous out of town trips required from the position. Hey, it's not easy to find a company that pays you well so you can travel around the country on a weekly basis! Besides, it will also allow me to immerse with the communities  - which is really my first love. However, as much as this new experience excites me, today makes me feel like a baby being thrown out into the water for the first time.

And speaking of such, my boss told me earlier, in a matter of fact way, to pack up my bags and get myself ready to fly to Sulu and Tawi-Tawi in the days to come. Aside from the required anti-malaria vaccination that I have to go through, not to mention filling out a life insurance policy which I found lying on my new table, my colleagues advised me to shop for a foldable life jacket for the trip. No, they were not kidding. They said this is an additional safety precaution since I will be crossing the seas of Sulu and Tawi-Tawi to get to the farthest islands.

This is definitely being thrown into unchartered waters, one that might turn out to be shark-infested!

The rest of the day was full of more formal orientation. On my way home, mind begins wandering  into the deep blue waters of Mindanao and its beautiful beaches. I find myself confused whether to shop for a neon-colored lifejacket or one with a lot of reflectors. You know, in case the ship sinks at night. Which has the higher survival rate? Hmmm, how about looking for some rocket parachute flares in case I will need some smoke signals? How about a GPS?A Swiss knife, certainly!

Hurray!!! The adventurous spirit prevails.

Summer 2006

Summer is almost gone, yet memories still linger with so much ferocity. Adventurous, passionate and unforgettable. This has been summer '06 - the waves that swept me away to the moonlit waters of Marinduque only to crash my body back with the sharp, deadly rocks of the shore. So much life, and then death. Life afterwards, only jaded, once again.

This summer is about finding the ideal person and letting him go without so much as a fight. Despite projecting my feelings as half-baked, there was the unfathomable passion that I only had the courage to show in this blog. Summer '06 would be the one I would regret the most but it would also be the summer I will always look back to. 

To that wonderful person, thank you for making this summer all about you.

Full Moon in Sagada

June 9, midnight

I was a lonely backpacker waiting for my midnight bus trip in Autobus terminal in Espana. The trip was bound to Banawe, from where I would take a jeepney to reach my abode--- Sagada.

I have been to Sagada a lot of times, and the previous trips were with friends. However, this recent trip was all by myself. During the bus stopovers, I enjoyed the cold air, smoked a few, and relished at the idea of a lonely trip. I could almost taste my much deserved full moon in Sagada.

Upon arriving in Sagada, I was able to find a cheap room at St. Joseph's Inn. In between a Banana yogurt lunch at the Yoghurt House and a relaxing dinner at Masferre, I spent the entire day at the Echo Valley - where I climbed a little and sat more often.

June 10, midnight

The after-dinner was what I dreamed it to be. The view outside St. Joseph's was magnificent as the full moon started to show amid the fog and cold. I took a spot in the moonlit garden where I could still hear some local performers singing reggae songs from inside the Inn. Someone yelled at me from the nearby group and offered me some drinks. They were the ones I made friends with during the jeepney ride to Sagada. It was indeed a beautiful, moon-bathed night in Sagada, drinking beers and margaritas with strangers.

June 11, midnight

Earlier this afternoon, I took the last bus bound to Baguio. A high school friend who now resides in Baguio picked me up at the terminal and checked me in at my hotel. After treating me for dinner at Cafe by the Ruins, it was my turn to treat her to some club-hopping at Nevada Square while reminiscing our happy days. By midnight, I thanked her and we parted ways.

As I was taking a lonely stroll back to the hotel, it suddenly dawned on me how surreal the whole experience had been. And to think I completely forgot why I took the trip, in the first place. Was that how good I was?

From the downtown, the moon looked so big and angry.

Unasked, Unaswered

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

- The Invitation, Oriah Mountain Dreamer

Quid Pro Quo

t'was a quid pro quo night
something for something
as simple as that

A Man Chooses Suffering

"Unattainability. The most intense joy lies not in the having, but in the desiring. The delight that never fades, the bliss that is eternal, is only yours when what you most desire is just out of your reach. Grasp it, and you've lost it. Pluck the rosebud, and it dies."

"Why love, if loving hurts so much? I have no answers anymore, only the life I've lived. Twice in that life I've been given the choice, as a boy, and as a man. The boy chose safety. The man chooses suffering. The pain, now, is part of the happiness, then. That's the deal."

- From Leonore Fleischer's Shadowlands. The book, it is said, is about CS Lewis' love story.

The Age of Indulgence

After three years of blogging, I have decided to make a new blog site. Deleting my previous blog, i.e., the "exploratory part" of who I turned out to be, was difficult but it was a breather. I'd rather seize the moment dealing with my mature pains now than be ashamed in the hollowness and irony of my youth.

Same nights, new nights. Until the nights become the nights before that of April 13th, I will continue to bask in its utter darkness and howl in the confines of my mind.

I have found indulgence, finally. Will it suffer an abrupt ending or will the melancholy be sustained? It is too early to tell.

 For the meantime, let us blow the horns!