commuter

Dreams

2018-12-21T22:46:00.000+08:00

I am writing about a kid I first met years ago, who eventually grew up, grew up taller than me in fact, and started charting his life.

He wanted to be many things, I recall. He had dreams, and he has lived them.

I am glad he does what he does.

But how I knew him was my personal knowledge of this once kid. Years after the first time I met him, he grew up, like I told you, revealing more than what he was years ago. What he does now is his greater introduction to the world. His past ceases to define him, because his present and future will, like how it should be for everyone.

When you click on the link below, he will show himself to you, his short film is a fruit of his labor.

In a Lilac Dream

Do enjoy!

And Merry Christmas!

The new year is coming, and it is time for me to dream again. You should too.

How I miss writing

2018-07-30T05:27:00.000+08:00

This screen was blank for fifteen minutes before the first letter was keyed in.

I do not know how this works anymore. It has been two years since the last post. I also noticed that the recurring theme of my last blog posts was my inability to write as often as I could. But I choose not to give it its death. No, not yet.

So, here I am. I write. I try.

While I do not know if anyone still reads this, I am not going to stop yet. This time, I shall write for myself.

I write this while Fado music, whose language I cannot completely understand, becomes a relaxing companion to this writing exercise. How come I just recently discovered this music?

Today was supposed to be uneventful. Today, a Sunday during summer in an almost empty Madrid, allowed me for the first time in a long time to hear myself the loudest. My solitude was beautiful. My friends were on vacation, and I chose the company of my shadow under the stirring heat of Spain. I saw one old woman passed out. I was not in a position to help, so I walked away, to the century-old movie house where I watched a movie along with nine other strangers.

I placed a bagful of bargain shirts and pants on the floor of theater no. 4. I shall try them all again when I get home, I reminded myself. Shopping is exciting, but the credit card charge is not. Hahaha. Well, I needed them. I made justifications for the purchase, as an afterthought. I had to.

The movie played. It was not Oscar nominee but a movie that took my mind off briefly from the world beyond the century-old movie house.

I went home, took a shower, had my supper, and held on to my dear mobile phone for hours until the call of blogging beckoned me.

Random Photo. Taken in Indonesia years ago.

Once a teacher,

2016-08-12T06:54:00.000+08:00

I suddenly became excited at the prospect that my blog, well, at least a post from this blog, will be read by grade five pupils. The Reading textbook "English Encounters" co-authored by Ivory Sioson was recently released, where a 2013 blog post I had written appears.

I am grateful that the author chose it to be part of the book. It gives me joy and pride, at the same time. In short, I am happy. haha.

I did doubt my capability to come up with a schoolbook-worthy article. You see, I cannot claim I am an expert in the English language, when I spot and make mistakes in my work, and utterances all the time. Every time I get the chance to reread my old posts, I see an error. My hurried style allows errors to be made, and I leave it at that most of the time. So, when Ms Sioson, the author, asked me if I could allow her to use a post in my blog for her book, not only did I willingly say yes, but I also gave her the permission to change the post when necessary. I had known her and her sister, and I was sure she would do an amazing job.

What I am most excited about is the thought that it could teach the users of the book something. I guess the teacher in me has never left. Like many teachers out there, the desire to impart knowledge or skill is still very much out there.

As I am thousand of miles away, I was only shown a photo of the page where my name appears. I was suddenly reminded of that rainy day that inspired me to preserve the goodness of that now faceless lady whom I sat beside with in the FX, for posterity. To read the post, click here.

The author of the book sent me this.

From Ms Sioson's Facebook account

I have asked my sister back home to get a copy of the book. You might want to consider getting one, too.

The capital city, the seat of everything

2016-08-01T04:32:00.001+08:00

I write this post with the Spanish-language song "La Bicicleta" by Carlos Vives and Shakira continuously playing on my speakers, and it will be on loop until this blog post is 'published.'

I have made it to Madrid, Spain, as my new assignment after over two years in Nigeria, and what great luck I have to be in this beautiful country, particularly in this spectacular Spanish capital city.

I had known all along that I would end up in Madrid after my stint in Abuja, Nigeria. It was what I would call the deal I made for accepting, actually volunteering, for the West African Post. I had no regrets that I had taken that more difficult route to get to my dream European post now. In fact, I would call my Nigeria experience a blessing, even more that what I could ask for.

Nigeria was not easy, mind you, but it enabled me to be the person I desired to be.

I would always take pride in the fact that I spent more than two glorious years in Nigeria, despite the terror group Boko Haram problems in the north, the occasional bombings in the capital and Ebola virus disease that reached the southern city of Lagos. The fuel problems, corruption, the hours-long power outages and the threat to Malaria were all there too, but I would credit my Philippine upbringing for helping me cope better than my European and American counterparts did. They complained a lot! Nigeria, like the Philippines, is a developing country, and is not without challenges. I guess, for some people who are accustomed to comfort and first-world living, they would always think that these will always be available to them. Well, not all the time.

Some party guests at my house

The difficult conditions brought out the best in people. There was always the threat of insecurity in Abuja, but this did not stop the party-loving expatriate community to have fun in their residences, gated villages and poolside venues. I was lucky to be in the company of some of the most amiable Latinos I have met in my life, and was taken in as an honorary cousin of sorts. I recall with fondness the countless parties and dinners I had with them. Soon enough, my circle of friends grew to include Americans, Nigerians, Israelis, Greeks and countless others. I once had a birthday party with over 40 people of different colors squeezed inside my small flat, dancing and drinking the night away. I passed out that night, failing to properly see my equally happy guests off.

Nigeria amplified my resilience, a trait known and visible to many Nigerians, along with their deep sense of faith. I rarely complain now. hehe. I have nothing but gratitude. Who would not be grateful for all those character-building experiences.

I would always look back at my Nigerian experience as I write my Spanish history. Eight months into my post, I have yet to make wonderful friends like I did in Nigeria. Abuja, for all its greatness and weaknesses, bonded me with a wonderful set of people I had the honor of knowing. I remember the names Pedro, Susan, Nadav, Cynthia, Miguel, Francia, Angie, Jorge and many others whose friendship and warmth I will always celebrate. I know it takes an effort on my part to establish friendships, as well. Friendship does not just happen instantaneously, for it needs nurturing and time. For now, I shall wait patiently. The first few months have been great for me in Madrid. There is without a doubt that my future here will be as bright.

In other capital cities of the world are my other friends who unceasingly provide me support and keep me sane. In more ways than one, we comforted each other because we knew the challenges of life away from home. For this, too, I am grateful.

Meanwhile, as an admirer of anything beautiful, I take the chance to explore Madrid and beyond.

Here are some photos of Toledo, some 25 minutes away from Madrid by the speed train,

The Alcazar

Toledo

Inside the AVE train, Spain's high-speed train

The rail station.

One public transportation off my list after taking quite a number of trains in Spain.

Reactivating?

2016-05-29T22:07:00.001+08:00

It has been months or years even, since the last post, and not so many posts for the previous years at that. Initially, it was a conscious effort to stay away from blogging and find my own rhythm in Commuter's then new place before he could take on the task of blogging again. As some of you may recall, he was living in Nigeria for work . The work brought him to places and adventures he had never dreamed of experiencing; in short, he had loads of materials to write about. However, he cannot seem to put them all in writing. He tried Instagram, too. That did not make him a prolific IG user neither.

Commuter is sure, though, that he missed blogging. The kind of writing he was doing at work was not the creative kind, nor liberating.

Also, Commuter attributes his lack of post to the fact that he was not commuting. You see, Commuter had a car and driver in Nigeria. He sold the car before his transfer to Spain. Yes, that country. And and that country, he takes public transport, and is happy.

This is the view from my dining area where I write this post. With that view, I am, no doubt, inspired.

Commuter hopes to have you tag along him in his new adventures in Spain. Ole!

Of Ebola and friendship

2014-10-16T21:13:00.000+08:00

Commuter's work has entitled him to certain benefits that he enjoys. One of them is vacation! Commuter plans to go to the land of milk and honey, that is if he gets his precious visa approved. While the visa is no where yet in sight, he dreams of going to places, visiting friends, taking a picture of 'HOLLYWOOD' and other things that a poor lad could ever dream of.

Should good fortune be on his stars, he will travel in November. He will meet friends and get his passport stamped. Or will he?

Then, few weeks before his contemplated travel, he receives a Facebook message from his supposed host in Florida. It reads:

Dear Commuter, Let me start by saying, Please do not take offense to what I am about to say. This is not a personal attack to you. I know I've offered you my home for you to stay when you visit, however I can no longer make that offer because you are flying in from Nigeria, which is a very high risk country for Ebola. As you may already be aware, we have cases of it here in the US. I have a two year old at home and I am only looking out for the welfare of my family. I hope you understand. You know I love you and would love to make the best of your stay here. I really apologize.

There. The meeting of friends ends before it could even start. He could not believe what he had read. Suddenly, blood went up his head, but he tried to understand the situation.

Immediately he responds:

Dear host, I am not offended by what you had to say. In fact it is understandable. I work at the embassy where we get similar concerns. However, I cannot deny the fact that I am disappointed. As a result, I will have to cancel my planned visit to Miami. I will go elsewhere where I am welcome. Just for the information of all, Ebola in Nigeria has been contained, and I have never set foot in any of the West African countries worst-affected by the outbreak.

What he should have said was, "You are a dear friend. I will never harm you or your family. Your health, safety and peace of mind are more important than my personal happiness. "

Then he will try to assess his future travel plans.

With sadness, he reflects on the situation. Ebola has done damage beyond the 5000 lives it already claimed. It has already caused some major damage to the living, and will continue more so even beyond one's death.

For now, he prays for his health and friends. If he experiences difficulties in a country where Ebola is believed to have been contained, he could only only imagine what goes in Liberia, Sierra Leone, Guinea, Spain and the US where his friend resides. "I hope it doesn't spread elsewhere," Commuter says.

Perhaps, sticking with Nigeria and the Philippines for tourism would be the best option for now. And besides, he has visa for Nigeria already.

First Post of the Year in my first posting

2014-01-31T06:53:00.001+08:00

A little over three months.

That is the length of my stay in Nigeria as of this writing. If I did not make a conscious effort of counting, I would not have known I had been here that long. Time flies by really fast.

A lot has happened.

I have had an acid fly (Nairobi fly, electric fly) land on my nape only to be killed, causing it to release some potent acid strong enough to burn my skin. I have survived this. Look at the pictures; they are not necessarily in correct order.

There are other health problems I had, due to either neglect or just plain bad luck, but I'd rather not discuss it here, because I sense it is going to be a recurring problem. Sad it is, but there is always the pharmacy.

But there are more reasons for celebration.

It took me many weeks before I finally got to have a place of my own. It is exciting to furnish a house; it sure is expensive, too. But I tell myself that privacy is an expensive price to pay, and, not to forget, one's happiness, as well.

Embassy people went to my place for the housewarming. Well, my spaghetti was not a success; I ended up throwing some of it after its long tenure inside my fridge. Nevertheless, I was able to show them my new crib! I could not contain my excitement during the first few days of my stay in my own place. I was to eager to spend all my money in furnishing the whole place, and I did spend all my money, and still I could not completely do my home. I realize that with what I am earning, it might take years before I could fully complete everything I need; when that time comes, I would probably be moving to some place else where the cycle would once again start.

I will keep this post short for now, but this does not mean I have nothing else to write. I have tons; it is just that I have to find time.

Food brought in by my colleagues from the Embassy

Zuma Rock, one of Nigeria's more famous attractions.

Something new

2013-11-22T18:53:00.000+08:00

I am writing this Post in Nigeria, my home for the next few years. I have been here close to a month now, and I must say I welcome anything new. It is exciting to be in this part of the world. It has its challenges, though. But like the adventurous person that I claim to be, I shall make my stay here memorable. I now work at the Philippine Embassy in Nigeria, you see, and the work here has slightly changed how things are compared to what I did back home. For one, I rarely commute. I walk to my office from my present accommodation, and I have a driver. Yes, Commuter now has a driver at his beck and call. hehe. Having a driver and commuting less have a direct effect on this blog. I am contemplating on changing the theme; I am not sure yet. I am still adjusting to work at the Embassy, and I will give more time to blogging once I have adjusted well.

Also, between last post and this one, I turned 30. I have to admit that there were things in my Life Plan which I expressed in the blog and that I was not able to meet. As simple as taking the train in Manila, I was not able to do. Another is I was not able to get myself a car. Nevertheless, I do not take them, particularly the latter, as failure. There were reasons, of course --- practicality, my departure for Nigeria, and ever-changing priorities.

I am embracing the decision I made to go to this part of the world. In fact, I am happy I made the decision. My moving to Nigeria will surely be an adventure, and I hope you will still be there as I make them, whether I am on a camel or with mosquitoes buzzing my ear.

Zamboanga Crisis

2013-10-03T00:37:00.001+08:00

Day 17 of the Zamboanga Crisis, I went home to Zamboanga. I could have gone earlier to check my folks, but flights were all cancelled. When the Aviation Authority finally ok'd the resumption of flights, I made it a point to catch one home the soonest.

There aren't any Krispy Kreme nor JCO Donuts in Zamboanga

Zamboanga Airport

Airport Security

The media had their field day every day. This is the Solar News Team getting ready to beam live from Zamboanga

I thought that living in Mindanao had prepared me for wars, but I was wrong. When I set foot on the airport, I already sensed the mood that was devoid of festive chatter and noise that usually come with every arrival. My folks could not bring their car to the airport parking unlike before, and I had to walk some few meters out of the airport complex just to meet them. Suddenly, no well-wishers and pushy tricycle and taxi drivers asking the passengers if they needed a ride; men in military fatigue seemed to outnumber the arriving passengers in the airport.

My mom and aunt accompanied my dad to pick me up. They did not have work; school and work had been cancelled for days then. We talked of nothing but the crisis. When we got home, the local tv was on broadcasting images of my city's sorry state. The footage showed the dismal condition at the sport complex housing the 100,000 plus evacuees. Huge smoke coming from the conflict area indicated that families were losing their house.

Rush hour in Zamboanga Downtown

UV Vehicles calling out passengers to depart before the curfew

I went to the downtown, the name we give to the city's center. My parents advised me to bring with me an ID in case I am asked. Shops were closed and streets were almost deserted. I tried taking pictures, but stopped after taking three. I did not want to be interrogated for the photos I was taking. During those times, everybody was cautious. A face, any face, could be suspected of gathering intelligence for the other side. I hid my phone and went back home to make it before the 8 pm curfew imposed on everyone. After 8, no one is supposed to be out unless one thinks that a night at the police precinct is like checking in a luxury hotel.

Common sight in Zamboanga

The curfew made Zamboanga a sleepy town with sporadic gunshots and bombs being detonated elsewhere. Business was heavily affected. The prostitutes were not spared. At 2pm on my way back to the hotel, I heard girls in sleeveless shirts shouting at me from the second and third floor windows of a massage parlor, "Pogi! Pogi! (Handsome!)" There must have been six girls calling my attention.

Camins Street in Zamboanga used to be one of the busiest streets in the city. Checkpoints abound vigilantly checking on each vehicle

I thought I was prepared for war; no one is really prepared. I went back to Manila after three days of seeing how that crisis would change my beloved city forever. I arrived in Manila on the 28th of September, the day when the Government announced that the crisis was over. It is never over, really.

Flight to Manila

OFW'ed

2013-09-19T20:05:00.000+08:00

Since I do not have a car, and there is no one to pick me up from the airport after an official trip abroad, the logical choice was to take the cab. Lucky for me that I live near the airport because had my residence been far, I would have scrimped and took the jeep instead. Airport cabs in Manila are twice and even more expensive than the regular ones. It was late at night, you see, and all I ever wanted was the comfort of my bed as soon as possible, after staying out of it for days!

I revealed my destination; the taxi dispatcher wrote it down and radio'ed someone. Few minutes later, a yellow taxi pulled up in front me. The driver was overly friendly and hinted that a tip in a foreign currency would make his day. I have not met a driver as enthusiastic as him in my several years of commuting, and then I analyzed his behavior. The only possible reason I could think of was that he must have mistaken me for a returning OFW. I was not offended; in fact, there probably were reasons for him to believe so. I had a huge luggage; I came out of the terminal 1 airport with many returning Filipinos; I dressed casually unlike my colleagues who wore their business jackets. However, I was not the jewelry-wearing kind which I attribute to some seafarers and OFWs that I know.

I managed to inject that I was government employee, from the DFA, returning home after a meeting abroad. After my revelation, I must have blown his bubble because he no longer pushed for the dollars that I was not earning. He changed the topic and started asking me about passport processes, and I answered briefly for I was nearing my place.

The trip left a sad taste in the mouth as I got off. I gave him forty pesos extra as consolation, so he would not feel so bad that he got a peso-earning passenger. I wonder if his previous passengers felt the same as I did. What I felt should not be experienced by anyone; that was not a nice welcome, and certainly not a nice first-hour experience in one's native land. That all OFWs are rich seems to be the perception of many. This kind of thinking should stop. Can't people just wait to be tipped? What I know and what everyone in the service sector should know is that tipping is for exemplary service rendered.

In hindsight, I told myself that the driver got me home safely, and that was what the forty pesos was for.

As for the events that happened before that taxi ride, I was in Brunei attending a meeting. Technically, I was working there, hence I can be called an overseas Filipino worker, but not the dollar-earning type. The work is not worthy of discussion in this blog. The things I did after the meeting is worth mentioning, however. We were able to squeeze some picture-taking activities and a little sightseeing on our last day before we departed for Manila.

That is the Brunei Airport which was still being renovated. The country is preparing to host Leaders from East Asia Summit.

I heard that car to people is 1:5.

Jollibee lords supreme in Brunei. There are more Jollibee stores than Mcdonald's in Brunei.

Mall

This Times Square will do, although Times Square NY is also something to look forward to.

Brunei Street

The captain of our ship. We cruised in Kampong Ayer, Brunei's famous water village.

Houses on stilts like in my hometown.

Their water village is very organized.

Our boat

Beautiful and organized structures at Kampong Ayer

Mosque with gold domes

This comfort called FX

2013-08-28T12:30:00.000+08:00

With the implementation of the Integrated Bus Terminal Project at the Coastal Mall for southern provincial-bound passengers, many of my colleagues at work take the van/fx at the Mall of Asia. The new system prohibits provincial buses from entering the city and has designated a terminal to load and unload provincial passengers. This has caused problems for and complaints from both provincial passengers and bus operators. The passengers complain that they have to take multiple rides to reach their destination. The bus operators don't quite like the strict policy of dispatch, giving them only five minutes to load passengers. In fact, bus drivers staged a protest yesterday leaving commuters stranded for the most part of the morning. On one hand, the good news, in my view, is that there are fewer buses on the streets of Manila, no more crowding at Roxas Boulevard corner EDSA. The AUVs and vans are, of course, exempt and thus enjoy the freedom to ply the city from any point of Luzon. Like me, most would rather take one straight journey (and it can be cheaper, too) than hop on and hop off several vehicles even though buses are slightly more comfortable than the vans/fx.

At the Integrated Bus Terminal at the Coastal Mall in Paranaque

While I acknowledge that taking buses is more comfortable than taking the FX, my choice is still the latter. I still take it knowing that my knees will touch someone else's when I face that someone, or that I will have to settle for a small share of the seat. But complain I shall not do.

Yet, I have to understand the "in-out, in-out" dynamics in public utility vehicles, particularly in FX. I find this an interesting topic to observe as it covers gender, age, and physical factors.

Just what dictates who gets to take a full space in a room full of passengers in the FX?

More than two decades of commuting could not give a me a definite answer to my questions. I do have observations, however. More than anything, I think it's one's comfort that makes a passenger claim his/her well-deserved butt space. It is with this thought that I look forward to having slender girls as my co-passengers in the FX. Usually the person who is last to enter has the unfortunate distinction of being 'out.' More women than men tend to go 'out' without being forced to do so; men are likely to squeeze their seatmates while women don't want to be squeezed. I suppose, at times, there is powerplay in the game; the passengers who have their right share of space assert themselves, knowing perfectly well that only three and a half people could comfortably sit in the car. The 'half' passenger must know his or her place. Young ones with their headsets on are likely to ignore everyone else and be oblivious to the rest as long they are seated properly and enjoying their music. Although I see people ask that they be let out if they cannot sit properly, most still go on with their journey uncomplaining. Those who try to make a big fuss would get comments such as, "Mag-taxi ka na lang (Take a cab)" or "Bumili ka ng sarili mong sasakyan (Go buy your own car)."

Those Asian Utility Vehicles can accommodate four passengers in the backseat regardless of the shape and size of the passengers. THEY MUST ALL FIT. Through the years, I have seen different models of cars, not exactly AUVs that are made to be "FXs." There are now vans that are being used. AUV Express as it is known has been gaining popularity among the riding public. The FXs, Revos, HiAces provide some comfort, airconditioning, and terminal to terminal service to the growing middle class who do not wish to take the jeeps, ordinary buses or multiple trips. The FX riding public has developed patience, understanding, apathy and selfishness all at the same time. Who is to blame? Conditions, presented to them day in day out, make them the way they are.

Does this mean that car-owning individuals are a different breed of their own?

I am not so sure about that, although one thing I am sure of is that we all take the same road. It is how we deal on the road that spells the difference, whether you are in a car, taxi, bus or FX.

Random picture on the plane. Unrelated photo.

Remiss, revisit, retell and reflections

2013-08-26T22:33:00.003+08:00

So I have been remiss in a lot of things, such as blogging and even failing to greet friends on their birthdays. One dear friend said she did not expect that I would miss her birthday after greeting her the day after.

Yes so much has been going on that I have no blog post for the previous month; last month should have been a great source of posts because a lot happened. But, no, I did not write any.

It has very been very busy. But I was thinking of topics to write.

First in my list is this:

I plan to take the train by October. I have no idea where I am going, but I'll definitely be riding on one.

You see, before the year ends, I will be going somewhere, a different continent, for a long time. Taking the train in the Philippines is certainly in Commuter's must-do list.

I hope to be able to write something on this train ride I will be taking.

Another post worthy of its own post but I am not doing one is my Sagada trip with my good friends. It was a well-deserved break, a total contrast from the life in the city. It has been weeks since that trip but I am still raving about it. Enduring the 13-hour ride to Sagada and back was nothing compared to the experience of the culture, nature, the people and weather of the Mountain Province, a northern Philippine province, that we were able to enjoy for two whole days.

At the Pasay Terminal of Victory Liner. Baguio bound.

Mountains upon mountains welcome you as you make your way to Sagada. Truly breathtaking.

Rice terraces abound.

The Big Falls in Sagada. It was a long trek but worth every step.

Market day in Sagada

American influence, not Spanish, is evident in Sagada. There are very few Catholics in this predominant Anglican society that still honors the indigenous traditions of Sagada's ancestors.

Traditional burial site

Cave formations

A day-long wedding celebration that I was very fortunate to gatecrash. Native dances and instruments provided entertainment to the guests of the bride and groom. For me, this was one genuine cultural experience.

Good things must come to an end; hence, a trip back to Baguio must be made before heading toManila.

The randomness of this post is similar to my "Northern Exposure" adventure I had. I was with adventurous and sometimes 'random' people that made the trip more enjoyable and memorable.

Baguio became part of the itinerary because Manila-bound buses were scarce, and we had to wait until the evening to get our ride. In the process I got to see a bit of Baguio. This was a place I enjoyed going to when I was younger, and up to now. Call it stupid but foggy places such as Baguio bring me joy. Just imagine how happy I was when the city was (nearing) one-digit visibility.

Fog in Baguio

I did pray for a safe travel back to Manila, knowing quite well a typhoon was wreaking havoc in some places in Luzon and Visayas at that very moment. My prayer must have been heard because nothing untoward happened on our descent to Manila. The days after that however became witness to the might of "Maring" that left Manila and large parts of Luzon underwater.

Sunday night, August 18, I was out from church when the rain started to show signs that it was not stopping. I spent the next two days at home as work was called off, and there was just absolutely nowhere to go with the unceasing rain.

Dark clouds in the horizon. Taken from my window.

Sister approaching the building. She had our food with her so it was important that I meet her at the ground floor. hehe.

The reports of the typhoon showed the catastrophe brought by typhoons, clogged drainage and human irresponsibility. On Wednesday, a holiday, I simply had to go out for I missed the outdoors terribly. On the main road, I saw for myself the post-typhoon scenario: shops were still closed; garbage, silt, mud were everywhere; children were playing in the puddles. I hopped on a jeep and, to my surprise, initiated a talk with the driver. He was not able to work for two days, the driver said. I sat patiently and quietly as he waited for more passengers to ride his jeep.

Ode to my Nokia Phone

2013-06-23T23:27:00.000+08:00

All pictures appearing before this post were taken using my handy Nokia E63. My Nokia phone has accompanied me to all trips I took and to all places I commuted to. Our relationship has officially come to an end with the arrival of LG. My Nokia phone has served me well, documenting my life's little adventures and aiding me in this endeavor called blogging. I am retiring my Nokia phone because it is starting to die on me. It is understandable; after all, it has been with me for close to five years. But let me share with you some never-before posted pictures.

My Nokia E61, my blogging companion since I started blogging. This picture is taken using my new phone.

Whether it is taking India's most famous monument or its snake charmers, my phone has been a very handy companion.

Taj Mahal

Snake charmer

New Delhi Airport

Taj Mahal up close

Classical Indian dance

Below is a shot of a homeless man in Singapore! I never thought Singapore would have one. Well, Nokia phone has proof!

Singapore and its single homeless person (see preceding picture)

Ninoy Aquino Airport

New Delhi's premier attraction

Lotus Temple in India

Manila City Post Office

Sale at a Manila mall

View of Metro Manila skyline taken the rooftop/helipad of the DFA Building

Pedestrian Crossing

"Family Car"

It's more fun commuting in the Philippines!

There are more photos taken by my Nokia E63 that have not been used. It is not a total divorce, I am telling you. I guess, like everything else, there should be an upgraded option.

My Nokia phone has a two-megapixel camera. My new phone hass five. I hope that I could get better pictures with it this time, in the same way my Nokia phone did.

Traveling

2013-05-21T18:13:00.000+08:00

The Indonesia trip I took several weeks ago is the last personal foreign trip I am taking this year. Other than it's expensive to travel, I think I already had my fill of foreign trips this year, with two exciting destinations in the first quarter of the year - Siem Reap, Cambodia and Indonesia.

Traveling is always fun. It became more fun when Seat Sales and Piso Fares came into the picture. Suddenly, there is a surge in region-trotting Filipinos; I was surprised to learn that Filipinos make it to the top five of tourist arrivals in Cambodia.

Travel blogs documenting travels and whatnot have also dominated the blogosphere, and many are joining the bandwagon. My friend and former co-teacher has gotten herself a URL to aptly describe what she is and does: Ang Lakwatserang Guro. At one point, I was fearing that this blog was turning into one, but I reasoned and told myself that traveling involves some form of commuting, as well.

On one hand, because traveling seems to be the vogue, many grab every possible vacation leave, holiday or ticket sale to make a contribution to tourism but go on borrowing credit cards and money to make that Asian dream destination happen. I hear stories of friendships falling out because of this. As a personal rule, I shall only go to places I can afford; thus, US, Europe, Australia, Latin America or four-fifths of the world is still off limits.

So, I am doing domestic travel in the meantime. I recently went to Tacloban with friends. Why Tacloban? I really don't know, but it happened to be one of the many places in the Philippines I haven't gone to. So I said yes to my friends who planned the trip. Besides, I always look forward to new and exciting destinations.

Like in my Dumaguete Trip, I was not to make expectations, but I had to make sure that I go to Sto. Nino Shrine (Romualdez Museum) and San Juanico Bridge. I was not disappointed for I got to see them all. See the photos:

The signs says, "WELCOME to San Juanico Bridge"

"San Juanico Bridge" just used to be the answer to the often asked question in Social Studies: "What is the longest bridge in the Philippines?" Seeing it for myself was surreal; it used to be just a concept, an idea when I was growing up in Mindanao.

The Sto Nino Shrine was a pretentious display of ill-gotten wealth, as it is now owned by the PCGG. The museum was in a sad state, and ventilation was poor, so touring it during summer is not the best of ideas. Still, it was an interesting look into the lifestyle of the former dictator and his family.

Tacloban offers other picture-worthy sights like the ones below:

The Provincial Capitol

Leyte Landing Memorial

The Park at the Leyte Landing Memorial was relaxing

We did not cross the San Juanico Bridge for nothing. We went to a beach resort called Calawayan in Easter Samar, just an hour's ride from Tacloban. It was a beautiful resort, but not for those on a tight budget like me. hehe.

As with all traveling, there is a point of embarkation. The Daniel Z. Romualdez Airport is our entry and exit point in Tacloban. All four flights that arrived within the hour of our departure were all filled, hence, the very crowded airport whose airconditioning was of little use to the weekend travelers.

Daniel Romualdez Airport

Outside the airport

I personally like this shot of the airplane.

With the trip over, I am generally happy that I took that trip to Tacloban and saw the sights for myself, with the company of nice people. Also, the trip taught me a lot of things, and not just the history or geography kind of lesson. I will write about them in future posts, maybe.

Shoes and shoestring budget trips

2013-04-06T12:10:00.000+08:00

No commuter blog is ever complete without talking about a commuter or a pedestrian's aid - footwear or shoes- and what he or she does about them. In the Philippines, there is no better place than Marikina to discuss shoes. Marikina is known as the Shoe Capital of the Philippines, where the centuries-old industry still exists and flourishes.

Growing in Mindanao, I heard of Marikina's famed industry. While I buy mostly local shoes, I was yet to see Marikina up close with its shoe industry until a weekend family trip to Marikina took me to a place devoted to nothing but shoes! The Marikina Shoe Museum, although small in size, was a rich depository of the special role shoes play in the lives of the Filipinos. Who else best exemplifies the Filipinos' love story with shoes but the former First Lady Imelda Marcos. She was so known throughout that international ads and shoe stores allude to her: "There is a little of Imelda in each one of us."

So it was not a surprise to see walls and glass-encased shoes paying homage to her hundreds of pairs in the museum. The entrance ticket of P50 was worth everything.

The Otto store near the museum seems to be a popular stop for people in search of affordable shoes

Also, quite recently, I was a first-timer tourist to another ASEAN city, Jakarta. Booking tickets and hotels in advance made the trip a good and affordable one. Jakarta is like Manila's twin city. I told my Imdonesian friends that I felt like I never left home. hehe.

Yes, they have Tuk-tuks there, Bajay, I think, it is called.

Thamrin, one of Jakarta's major thoroughfares, is a busy street.

Thanks to my wonderful host, Aireen, who was my college classmate and thesis teammate, my trip to Jogjakarta was well arranged. We took a plane to Jogja (its other name), and I flew AirAsia for the first time. I noticed that the Jakarta Airport is a good one.


Jogjakarta tarmac

The Jogjakarta leg of my Indonesia adventure included Borobudur and Prambanan. It was wet in Borobudur and we still managed to admire the Buddhist structure. I had to ditch my Chinese shoes as they were wet. If kept them on for the next few hours, I would have gotten some more unwanted fungus.

So, I bought these nice sandals in Borobudur. I think I got a pretty reasonable price for the pair. Besides, when you're in Indonesia, you're a millionaire.

I did some gustatory adventure as well. We went to Malioboro Street where strings of eatery open only at night. We had dinner there, sat on the floor and observed the locals as we joined them in tasting the local cuisine.

After the dinner and the walk along the long stretch of Malioboro Streets with all its Batik shops, we were tired and simply had to take a rickshaw, my first time, back to our hotel.

The next day, we went to Prambanan.

Our less than 28-hour adventure in Jogjakarta was a memorable one. Other than visiting the world-famous temples, it was the company of a good friend that made the whole trip fun. It brings me pride to learn that while good friends and classmates are being blessed in their careers, they remain humble and generous. To Aireen, my host, I am very happy for you and I thank you.

But my gratitude did not end in Jogja as Aireen took me another beautiful place, Bandung, the next day. Seeing the countryside by car was refreshing. Our destination, Bandung, reminded me of Baguio and Tagaytay. It was a nature trip this time.

I was brought to Kawa Putih (White Crater), where the water formed inside the volcano was whitish. It was simply beautiful although the sulfuric smell could trigger an asthma attack. To my surprise, it was a popular place for couples on dates.


Kawa Putih in Bandung, Indonesia

Now, not only do I thank my good fortune at work and the cheap airfare, I also express gratitude to people who share their time and resources in helping me create memories. Good times!

And to share the joy, I got these Batik slip ons as gifts to family and friends for 18500 Rupiah, that's around 90 in Philippine pesos. Not bad, I would say. Everything was good even.

UP there!

2013-03-19T17:52:00.000+08:00

UP Dilliman

UP on a weekend

I never dwelled on the 'what ifs,' but I did ask myself once "What if I made it to UP?"

Not so long ago, I went to the University of the Philippines (UP), the bastion of great minds and dreams, not to get an education, but to kill time. I would have wanted to study there, but passing the UPCAT was not possible that time, so I ended up some place equally excellent, I would say. :-)

In my high school, when I asked people how to get to UP, the response I would get was take the UPCAT; now in my adulthood, the answer differs: I was told to get a PHILCOA jeep, then take another jeep, IKOT. If lost, ask. I made it to UP by commute to admire its greenery, the campus, the invisible yet palpable presence of greatness. I have the greatest admiration for people of who have burned the midnight oil to be among the UP alumni.

But the UP of my dreams has been in the news lately, not for its outstanding achievements but for the death of one of its students.

There is nothing more I can contribute to issue that has already been discussed in every platform known. However, I do share the sentiment of many on the avoidable loss of life of a promising scholar. May she be the last of those who died because institutions and policies and other external forces drive them to take their own lives.

I was once a teacher who failed students, but only did unreluctantly so for 'deserving' students. What I was not very comfortable doing was handing them a notice of non-payment or partial payment of tuition fees which the Accounting Office released weeks before the exam. So, instead of calling out their names in class, I just discreetly leave the notice on their desks. My own three-year grade school experience in a private school reminded me that I should not let my students experience what I had experienced.

I transferred to government schools when I reached second grade, and I am forever grateful for this transfer. I was exposed to life. At some point I was in a rowdy class of sixty; we were contented with manila paper for our visual aids; the old books which were issued to us at the start of the year served their purpose until school year ended; the simple classmates I had, whose parents were ordinary folks, taught me the value of humility and simplicity. I could go on detailing the education I gained from my grade school to graduate school in government education institutions. But, then, it appears now that not all students in government schools are as fortunate as me.

Pay it forward

2013-02-27T12:00:00.000+08:00

It appeared as if there was no stopping; it rained continuously the whole night.

My sister entered my room at five am, waking me up and telling me that she'd borrow my umbrella. Not wanting my sleep to be interrupted, I immediately told her, "Ok" and went back to sleep. The sound of the rain pelting on concrete and the cool weather lulled me to a longer sleep. Thus, I woke later than my usual time.

I couldn't be late and absent. I would sense that someone or a few might have called in sick in light of the endless pouring of rain. I should go to work.

Surprisingly I did not have to wait for a long time to get a ride on rainy Friday. I was already contemplating the thought of taking a cab to work.

Halfway to his destination, a man gives a five-hundred-peso bill to the driver. "Walang panukli dito," said the driver.

"Puedeng mag-gasolina," said the passenger.

"Puno ang gas ko. Pag-umaga barya dapat," was the driver's lecture.

I heard coins being searched."Ito, ma, trenta, sa Baclaran na lang po ako baba," said the passenger whose destination was Pedro Gil, around 10-15 kilometers from Baclaran. I quickly imagined a man drenched in rain as he wait for another vehicle to take him to Pedro Gil.

I felt I had to do something, but I did not. Just before reaching Baclaran, a woman beside me took out some coin from her purse and gave the driver the remaining fare the Pedro Gil passenger lacked to get him to his destination.

The Pedro Gil passenger was not aware of what was taking place, so the other passengers informed him of his luck. I did not hear a 'thank you,' however.

No one got off at Baclaran, but the kind lady got off with me in front of my building. I had to say to the stranger, "it was nice of you what you did."

"Someone did the same to me, " and we entered the building to together.

Well CAM-bodia! A non-valentine's day post on Valentine's Day

2013-02-14T12:30:00.000+08:00

I thought of a fancy introduction for this post, but, no, I shall go straight to the point.

Recently, I took a trip to Cambodia with friends.

It was months in the making, thanks to my friends who made a conscious effort of thinking of me whenever Cebu Pacific announces a sale.

So, Siem Reap, Cambodia it was.

Thanks to my blogger-volunteer-friend who made all the planning.

I'll let the pictures do most of the talking.

Inside a dome or pyramid in one of Siem Reap's many temples

Simply beautiful

Majestic hallways

Imposing structures

Sunset

I have to say something about the picture above and the two succeeding pictures below. The Tourism Officials of Cambodia seem to have perfected the idea of selling sunset viewing as a touristic activity. There is this temple atop a hill or a mountain where the sunset view is to die for, they say. Before thirty past five in the afternoon, tourists make their way up to get a good view of the sunset. I never thought that tourists would be very interested in sunsets. My group went early, hoping for a good view, and a good spot we had.

After taking the almost sunset picture above, I went down because I don't want to join the hundreds of people heading their way down back to the lowlands! On my way down, I took the picture below of people waiting atop the temple for that perfect sunset photo. My friends are there in front somewhere.

On my way down, there were smaller stations where smaller groups of people convened to take their own snaps of sunset. Perhaps I wasn't the sunset-kind-of-person. I got interested however in what was in the tourists' minds that made them go all the way up to the temple on a hill for a brief moment with the day's departure.

Interestingly, our group woke up very early the next day to catch the sunrise in Angkor Wat. Hehe. The sunrise crowd drew the same amount of tourists as the sunset tour.

Wedding pose

Shopping at the Art Centre which opens only at night

Strings of hotels in Siem Reap

Shopping bags on board a Tuk-tuk

The National Museum

Airport at Siem Reap whose architecture is reflective of its culture

Happy Holidays! It's never too late

2013-01-02T22:36:00.001+08:00

Christmas 2012 was the first time I was away from any member of my immediate family who were all in Mindanao, except for my OFW brother. I was in Manila, celebrating Noche Buena and Media Noche with my wonderful aunt's family in Paranaque. It was a choice to be away from Mindanao, and I was quite content with this choice. Don't get me wrong; I adore being with my family. For Christmas 2012, I simply wanted to experience being away from them. The initial plan was to stay alone in my own unit for the Christmas Eve. But, nah, it wouldn't make a happy story to tell friends and colleagues when we see each other once we report to work. So, Tita Mila's it was. Nevertheless, there was a semblance of family, and for that I was thankful. Truly, Christmas is a good time to bring family closer. This brought me to think of the many Filipinos abroad who are away from their families, including my brother who is in a country that doesn't 'do' Christmas.

The day after Christmas, brother started posting Facebook pictures of his housemates with all their Christmas fare sans the Philippine Christmas staple ham. He and his friends seemed happy. So was I.

We make our own Christmas story, wherever we are, whomever we are with. My story was that of gratitude. There are so many things to be grateful for. Twenty twelve was a blast!

The year that passed has brought me nothing but greater appreciation for life's many blessings. I have been blessed in every possible way imaginable. I went to this:

THE Taj Mahal

I stopped being credit card dependent.

I bought a four-inch foam for my improved condo unit.

I traveled internationally and domestically.

Singapore

I made more friends.

I inspired one friend to get her own house.

I work with the most fun and inspiring people.

I was able to buy my nieces nice Chinese dresses.

I reached 10000 hits on my blog! hehe.

I reached the 29th year of my existence.

For all of these, I am grateful. Thank You, Wonderful Giver!

Overseas Post

2012-12-19T22:30:00.001+08:00

I have no idea how Manila looks like by now; it's December, and Christmas is just around the corner. I would suppose Manila's streets had already been adorned with Christmas decors and lights to usher the festive season. The news I got of Manila from international news channels had been about the typhoon that ravaged Mindanao and Visayas and Pacquiao's loss. However, there seems to be a good news in the passing of the Reproductive Bill into law!

I have been away from the Philippines for several weeks now. Why? I am in India, again. This time I am in the capital, New Delhi, for a training. I have been here for close to a month now, and will be going home very soon, before Christmas, in fact.

I will go home with much anticipation because I have loads of memories and stuff to share from this memorable trip.

Arrival in India: Indira Gandhi International Airport

Familiar scenes of the Indian capital

A popular mode of transport: Autorickshaw, an Indian version of the Philippine tricycle

Philippine Embassy in New Delhi

This is a common sight in Delhi

Delhi traffic

More autorickshaws

They have an underground metro

Men holding hands

Not Taj Mahal, obviously. Taj Mahal in a future post, maybe!

Cuddly Indian school kids

One of Delhi's more famous tourist attractions: Qutub Minar

I shall be writing more during the Christmas break, or not. The next posts on India will be written in the Philippines.

Commuter/Travel Post: Dumaguete and Siquijor

2012-12-06T02:32:00.002+08:00

I lament the state of my blog. I really think it has become a showcase of what I do instead of what I think. Nonetheless, I will continue writing what I write.

Allow me to digress for a bit. My friend has been telling me to get a nice camera and try to be 'in' photos to document all the travels and experiences I am having. I don't know how to explain this, but I am probably one of the few people who don't get too excited at the sound of a clicking camera. If it can be avoided, I stay away in front of the camera. My answer to his argument is that I have memories of everything. This blog also documents the things I do and the places go to.

I recently visited Dumaguete and Siquijor with my officemates/travel buddies, and the trip became the most relaxing vacation yet.

Let me tell you more about it. Four of us, having a long weekend, decided to go to a place none of us have gone to. Armed only with the knowledge of the Visayan language and online information on our destination, we set forth to Dumaguete during the All Soul's Day Weekend. To add to the excitement, we added Siquijor in our itinerary to invoke some eerie experience during what the Visayans call "kalag kalag" or 'ghost' or the All Soul's Day celebration.

Our port of entry was Dumaguete. 'Teddy,' our travel companion, expressed his amazement in the tricycle we were to take, as seen in the picture below. Traveling to various towns in the Philippines makes you see the different designs of the tricycles.

I did not have expectations of my visit to Dumaguete. I was glad I did not make any as I was surprised by the many things I saw and experienced. Rizal Boulevard was a foodie haven, and the scenery in the area was superb.

Rizal Boulevard, Dumaguete City

Silliman University, a beautiful campus

The next day we went to Siquijor...

... and the beautiful beach welcomed us, signalling good times ahead.

The trusty tricycle was to be take us literally around the province of Siquijor. We saw old churches, greens, more greens, and beaches, all in one day!

I did not take many pictures apparently. I was enjoying myself too much that I forgot to take out my mobile phone to snap images that were of interest to me. To be honest, there were many. The number of foreign tourists in Siquijor was an indicator that the province was more than the mystical place that Noli de Castro popularized in his November 1 Magandang Gabi Bayan Specials.

I had to go back to Dumaguete alone and cut my trip short to catch my flight back to Manila.

I was smiling the whole time. The Siquijor leg of the tour was a well-deserved trip and a break from the busy city life. Dumaguete, on the other hand, provided my palate with various international cuisine that made me smile more. Indeed I was a happy tourist. My friends back in Manila would be likewise smiling because I bought Dumaguete's famous sansrival and other goodies.

I did not do my research as to the distance of the airport to the Dumaguete downtown area. Let's us just say that it was peak season and I had no plans of missing my flight, so I went to the airport three hours before my departure, thinking that the drive to the airport would take long. Well, I was wrong. During my arrival in Dumaguete from Manila days before I did not take notice the length because the four of us were all excited about the trip.

What to do with plenty of time at the airport? I had a relaxing foot message by blind masseurs at the airport. Happiness!

I may have added additional fine lines around my mouth for smiling the whole time.

You deserve some break, too. Enjoy!

Amazing (South) India Part 2

2012-11-28T21:06:00.002+08:00

I was not supposed to write a part 2, but I owe myself a digital memory of this first official trip, doing not-so-official things.

As we head back to the hotel after a productive meeting, I transformed to the curious person that I should be. I had to take the window seat and observe India from the shuttle ride back to the hotel. I can't help but take a photo of the train tracks. The train system is important to India, which I will learn later on helped so much in the spread of economic progress and even democratic ideals. I am not quite sure if Gandhi made it to Kerala via the railroad upon his return from South Africa; I am sure, however, that he's had a lasting mark even in this south Indian state.

The next day, our host government took us to the Backwaters of Kerala; it's supposed to be the Venice of the South. We took this cruise boat.

Kerala's famous boathouse

On my last day, I did some shopping. I really wanted to take an auto rickshaw to the city center...

but took this instead:

An Ambassador, the driver said.

Taking the cab was a good idea because the driver instantly became my tourist guide. He told me that people sitting on the tracks (picture above) were waiting for a Political Party meeting to commence. I found this interesting.

Another view from the car

The driver also told me that most places in India have an MG Road, which is short for Mahatma Gandhi Road. The same is for Filipinos for we have a Rizal Street or Rizal Avenue in most of the Philippine provinces I have come to visit.

I took a photo of the hotel before we head to the airport. I wonder when I will return to a place like this again.

This was the car that took us to the airport. See the flag? We had police escorts on our way also.

In familiar territory. Back in the Philippines!!!

Amazing (South) India Part 1

2012-10-04T20:34:00.000+08:00

I can't believe my luck when I was asked to go to India for my first ever official trip. The trip necessitated a blue passport or a diplomatic passport. I used to have a red passport , but I never got to use it. It was a thrill to be passing through the immigration carrying a diplo passport, without the hassle. It was a breeze!

And since I was excited, I was early at the airport (NAIA 1) and got to see much of it. I got to admire the ceiling, which is dated but still pretty, methinks. The blonde hair in the photo below is on a very-Filipina-looking woman.

I was fascinated with the flight information board. I enjoyed listening to sound it made as it rapidly changed details. In the airport's heyday, it must have been state-of-the art.

Since there was no direct flight to our destination in India, we passed through Singapore. The travelator made everything accessible.

I finally reached my destination in Cochin, India. I did not take photos at the airport. I did not want to look very excited, so I was composed, saying my thank you's politely, smiling nicely and nodding my head when necessary.

We arrived at midnight, but the hotel room seemed to have removed all the weariness of the travel and the late night as I plunged onto the soft bed that was to provide me comfort for two more nights in the southern Indian city of Cochin.

When morning came, I almost forgot that I was there for an official work. I was welcomed by a drizzling morning, and to top that, I was given a corner room. I had little rest the night before, but I was not complaining. How could I when I was greeted by a magnificent view.

I walked outside the grounds of the hotel, Vivanta it was called, to notice the large number of crows. I got to see them up close and admire their black sheen that would instantly dispel my negative notions of crows.

It was nearing nine o'clock in the morning, and I went back to the room. The sight I saw from my fifth floor suite was not to be missed. It was foretelling of a good day ahead.

On board our bus to the meeting venue, I took the picture of people outside and told myself that I really was in India...

...to work. I was the assistant of the Philippine Eminent Person to the ASEAN-India Eminent Persons Group. Their objective was to come up with a report that will be submitted to the Leaders of ASEAN and India so the Leaders could move their relations forward. Yes, my work entails doing these kinds of things, and it has been nothing but exciting.

The ASEAN Way

But other than the place I was in, what made this trip memorable for me was that I sat behind this woman whose brilliance, I know for sure, was admired by her colleagues. It made me proud as a Filipino because the person I was assisting showed what a first-class Filipino diplomat can do.

The small flag in front of her seemed so big all of sudden.

OK sa HK!

2012-09-22T20:01:00.001+08:00

When I saw a possible window for a vacation leave in our ever-busy office, I immediately booked a flight to a destination I had been wanting to go, Hong Kong. I bought the ticket a month before my departure. This particular trip had many firsts.

1. use vacation leave in my over a year stay at the foreign office

2. fly Cathay Pacific

3. depart from NAIA Terminal 1

4. visit HK

I have been using budget airlines for my foreign trips, but this time, I told myself, I would splurge a bit, so Cathay Pacific it was. I am not very familiar with Terminal 1 of the airport so departing from this terminal was quite an experience. I saw for myself the complaints I had been hearing about the airport. I have only gone to few international airports; hence, I could not draw many comparisons although I could list twenty things the airport can improve on, but I could also see efforts by the government to make it a slightly better terminal. For this trip, I was a bit anxious, I have to admit. This was my first time to use the airport; I did not know anyone whom I could go to in times of emergency, and I was alone. But I always allay my fears by saying that as long as I can read and have some cash, I would be fine.

Snapshots of the Ninoy Aquino Airport:

There is still some beauty in the airport's ceiling, I think.

Boarding at the NAIA 1

Signs that I told me that I was already in Hong Kong!

This walkalator or whatever they call at the airport was one of the MANY I was to take in my stay in HK. They seemed to have 1/2 of the world's escalators spread all over the territory ( I'm exaggerating).

Welcome to Hong Kong! the banners read. I have arrived. Wow. The airport was without a doubt beautiful, and I could only sigh at the thought of the airport I came from.

I was welcomed by the buildings. I intentionally took the bus to Kowloon, where I booked my cheap accomodation, so I could see some sights on the way. I would take the train on my way back, three days after.

The sign below became my guide as I commuted around using the very efficient and convenient train system of Hong Kong.

It frustrated me a bit that I could not order at Chinese restaurants, which was one of the things I intended to do in Hong Kong. I didn't know how to read Cantonese script, and the restaurants did not have photos in them where I could just point and order. I could have starved myself to death, but, no, I would have to settle with McDonald's. I ordered, of course, meals that were not present in Philippine stores. The meal below had an egg and burger patty in a bowl of macaroni soup. I could not complain. hehe...Nom, nom.

My McDonald's breakfast, Hong Kong style

Avenue of the Stars. I could only recognize five names.

Other than Hong Kong, I took a trip to Macau. I was there for three hours.

Casinos! Yes, I am in Macau.

Macau Terminal

The Venetian

And I was mesmerized at the Venetian. I remembered watching the documentary on the making of this hotel weeks prior, and there I was, enjoying it up close. I couldn't pay the gondola ride but I walked alongside it as it made its way to through clear water canal. I could not help but notice the gondolier whose voice was beautiful and whose appearance was very familiar. One eye contact proved what I thought all along, he was a Filipino, and he nodded as if confirming my guess about his nationality. I smiled back.

After two new stamps on my passport, I took a tour of Central where all the tall buildings were.

I took a long series of escalators, it sounded like mid-level escalator, in the evening of my second day. When I finally reached the end, I was too tired and wanted to take the bus. I did not know how to take buses in that area, so I walked all the way back! Boy, I was drenched in my sweat when I reached a more familiar street. I remembered having the best sleep that night.

A well-planned series of tunnels and trains made HK a very ideal place for commuting.

Hong Kong at night

I was lucky to have stayed near this station, where everything seemed very close.

My trip had come to an end. I waited a long time at the airport, and I got to notice the wealth this small territory had.

HK Government Travel Alert: PH on Black Alert, Severe Threat

I came across the digital board at the airport. It listed the Philippines as one of the two countries to be avoided for traveling. The Syria is the other one where there is an actual war. I felt side about this. I hope this alert be lifted soon. The people of Hong Kong deserve to see the Philippines, also.

Good that the Hong Kong Airport was big; there was a lot to do especially for the moneyed passengers. At this time of trip, I was down to my last few dollars.

And I am back to familiar territory.

Zam-Bas Escapade!

2012-08-27T11:02:00.000+08:00

Coming from all points of Metro Manila, as far as Quezon City, we arrived at various times at the airport, with Alan the earliest to check in. I was the fourth, in a group of six traveling to Zamboanga, to arrive, and I thought I was already late. From force of habit, I directly went to the pre-departure gates immediately after checking in when I should be meeting with my other companions having their breakfast at the second level foodcourt of the NAIA Terminal 3. Few minutes before four in the morning, the airport terminal looked like this:

NAIA T3

One by one they came and accompanied me at pre-departure gates before taking our AirPhil Express flight to Zamboanga. It was hard telling what they were feeling during those few minutes before they were to board a plane taking them to Zamboanga, a place, which, for some, makes a good setting for terror-related stories. Timmy, my officemate, however, openly showed excitement.

My thoughts:

1. I am taking responsibility over these five people since I am taking them to Zamboanga. It's scary to think of bad things that might happen to them there.

2. I hope their first visit to Zamboanga will be a memorable one. They spent five thousand pesos each for a round trip ticket! It better be good.

3. Will I make a good host?

4. Lord, hear my prayers.

This time, fare at AirPhil was cheaper than Cebu Pac

We touched down safely in Zamboanga. I was relieved. Two days prior, a small plane crashed leaving three of its four passengers missing; later on, the three were found dead.

When we finally alighted from the plane, I could see my guests smiling. They were admiring the airport and immediately took out their cameras for photos. "So far so good," was all I could say.

We left our stuff at my house in Zamboanga, which was going to be our base for the next three days, and headed to the port to catch a ferry to Basilan. I had to admit that I had mixed feeling about what we were doing. I have never gone to Basilan. There were attempts in the past when I was younger to go to Basilan, but my mom would not let me, citing the peace and order situation. At 28, I was taking my first trip to Basilan with five Manilenos, two of whom are light-skinned dudes aka 'potential kidnap victims.'

For P40 one way, we had our taste of Basilan

Nearing the port, plenty of mangroves

Bienvenidos a Basilan!

We were welcomed by mangroves and houses on stilts as we made our way to the port of Isabela City, Basilan. The breeze, air and water indicated tranquility, foretelling of an interesting three-hour stay in Isabela.

First stop is the church, a Catholic Church, standing proudly in the heart of the city. Its mosaic art was admirable. A much needed prayer was said here.

Isabela Cathedral

Back to mainland Mindanao

After our lunch at the only Jollibee in Basilan, we ended our peaceful journey to Basilan. The trip taught me few things: a) ignorance will do you no good b) good company disperses all fears, and c) Basilan is not bad at all; it holds a lot of promises.

Zamboanga's icons: Vintas

The sea craft took only 45 minutes to get us back to Zamboanga, but we paid P150 this time for an airconditioned commute. There was plenty of time to do other stuff, so we were able to squeeze in a tour of the city center, the old fort and the seaside attraction, the Paseo del Mar.We enjoyed the cheap food and drinks capping our very full first day.

I am not to describe at length the things we did for day two. Let me just say that it was eventful and tiring but fun.

On our last day, however, we made a quick trip to Pasonanca Park and sampled some Muslim delicacies. The taste can actually deceive their appearance. Look below:

Interesting

August 21, late afternoon, we were waiting for our flight back to Manila. Another work day is waiting for us the next day.

Newly-renovated Zamboanga Airport. The second level had food stalls for the the hungry passengers.

The plane to take us back to Manila

AirPhil flight attendant.

There. We arrived in Manila with all our limbs intact and a few thousands poorer. But I was happy to show them around. They expressed their appreciation. I hope they were able to see a different glimpse of Mindanao that was far from what they see on TV or read on papers. To help in the enlightenment or in the education of people in whatever way is something all of us must pursue. I don't mind doing it again, and besides, they were all fun tourists. We might just do something similar again, perhaps, in Tawi-tawi next time around.