Tag: travel

Punch at Pat’s

“Dali, Z! Drive this car out!”
“Ito na, ito na!!! Si sir, kumusta? BAKIT TAYO MAY DALANG DUGUAN?!”
“Nakakaawa kasi siya eh. Itakbo lang natin saglit sa PGH, Isaglit lang natin ito. Mahimasmasan man lang at matignan ko. Kahit sa student quarters.”
“Anong matingnan?! Hindi ka pa lisensyado, gurl! You are still a med student!!!”
“Z wag ka nang maingay please, ang first aid ko nandun sa ospital. Andun ang gamit ko. Hindi naman dadaang OPD. ER agad, ako na titingin, ganun.”
“Gurl, bakit ba kasi binitbit pa natin yan?! Tignan mo ‘tong si Lis, namumutla na rin. Don’t tell me dalawa silang gagamutin mo?”
“Z – STOP. Okay girls, sandali.”

Kumalma nga kayo.
Iba talaga kapag mga babae ang mga kasama mo, hindi alam ang mga sinasabi minsan.

“Girls. 1. Si sir, conscious, okay? He hears us. Lasing lang, pero nakakapagsapak. And 2. He saved me, kargo ko siya. So, if you don’t want to help, fine. Magtataxi ako dala-dala ko ‘yan siya.”

“OKAY OKAY JESS OKAY ITO NA NGA OH DADALHIN NA NATIN. LIS OKAY KA LANG, HA? UMINOM KANG TUBIG, MERON DYAN SA GLOVE COMPARTMENT. ITO NA NAGDA-DRIVE NA! AFTER NITO, IHAHATID KO SI LIS PAUWI.”
“Thank you.”

Umuugong ang Never the Strangers playlist ni Z. Kahit papaano, nakakatulong siya para manatiling gising ang lalaking kasama namin. I don’t need saving, sana. Nakapantalon at naka-long sleeve ako. May dala akong jacket. May kasama akong mga kaibigan. Pero minsan talaga sa pagka-machismo ng pagkakataon,muntikan pa akong mabiktima ng sexual assault. Mabuti na lang itong sira ulo na ‘to, kahit lasing, eh nagpaka-knight in shining armor.

Yun lang. Pagkasapak, nasapak pabalik.

Hay. Men.

Nice set, Jessica Patrimonio. Sakto, bukas, may reporting plus duty. Minsan na nga lang maglamyerda, ganito pa. Ano ba naman kasing itong si Z, akala ko hanggang balwarte lang ng Maynila ang aming Girl’s Night Out. Umabot pa talaga ng kyusi. Langya. Isa pa itong si Lis, nagpapaka-Laco. Kung hindi pa aaluin ni Z at kung wala pang dalang sasakyan, hindi pa sasama. Tapos kung saan kakain, eh di ayun, sa bar ko raw. Jess & Pat’s. As if naman ako ang may-ari, dahil pinaikling pangalan ko lang yung lugar.

Patawa ‘tong dalawang ‘to.

“Hi, Z!”
“Gurl, finally, nakawala ka sa hawla mo! Kumusta naman sa ospital? Good thing I waited here in Café Adriatico.”
“Eto, pagod. Palagi naman. Ito nga ako, may eyebags na tinubuan ng mata.”
“HAHAHAHA Girl, you still look stunning. Maswerte magiging boa mo kapag nakilala ka. You both have the beauty and brains! Proud kaya ako sa iyo, girl.”

“Hah, thanks. Si Lis?”
“Asa class pa raw siya. I just want to treat you a coffee overload because I want to invite you somewhere.”
“Ha? Saan ito?”
“May extra kang damit? Tara gig! Matagal na akong fan ng set na ito eh. Sud, at saka yung Flips.”

“Alam mo Z yang mga kinakaabangan mong boyband minsan –”
“Girl, let me tell you something: they are not a boyband! Just. Band.”
“I don’t like the vibe of these men. Hindi ko alam. Nakita ko sila sa twitter. Maingay yung issue sa kanila.”
“Don’t listen to them, they create good music because they are good.”

“What? Good manipulators?”
“Jess, wag OA. Huwag kang papa-manipulate kasi if ayaw mo. Laro-laro lang yan. Maunang mahulog, talo. Wait, I’ll call Lis. She needs convincing that the place we are going is safe. Stay put, order some Americano.”

Showbiz by Never the Strangers
An Excerpt

Sumama ka na sa akin
Dahil bihirang dumating ang pagkakataon
Gusto mo bang mag showbiz
Iwan ang dati mong buhay
Para sa di tiyak na hinaharap

Handa ka na ba magshowbiz
Lumapit ka pa sa camera
Ito ang una mong pelikula

PutanginaHAHAHAHAH

Nice.
Nakakaloko rin itong playlist mo, Z.
Nakakaloko rin yang bandang yan. Hah. If I know, isa rin sila sa mga gossips underground na dawit sila sa mga enabler ng sexual assault. Hindi ko lang alam ha, pero, Diyos ko, kasalanan ba yung maging kaaya-aya ang hitsura mo? Wala naman akong suot na revealing o ano. Maayos ako manamit. Malinis rin akong manamit. Hindi man ako perpekto, pero hindi ako yung mga babaeng naka-pekpek shorts basta may coachella. Pantalon na ang suot ko, may dala nga akong jacket, di ba? Pero putangina. Sa sobrang bait at accommodating ko rin kasi minsan, hindi ko namamalayan hinahalayan na pala ako ng isang basista after ng second set. Ang inosente naming tatlo na nanonood –

Fuck naman, minsan na nga lang ako mag-unwind.

Ayan sir, pumipikit-pikit ka. That is a good sign. You are battling the need to sleep and the pain. Quezon Ave na tayo, lampas na tayo ng Sto. Domingo. Hindi ko lang alam ha, pero kapag naaaninag ka ng dilaw na ilaw sa madaling araw, pogi ka pala. Kahit sira ulo. Gusto kong magpasalamat pero kailangan muna natin i-check ang mukha mo. Sayang, minsan lang ako makakita ng kaaya-ayang tanawin sa PGH. Ayos rin ang waze ni Z. Legit runway ang mga daan ngayon – pagkalabas ng Maginhawa, dere-derecho ang Quezon Ave, Welcome, España, Lerma, Lacson at Taft. She knows her logistics, lalo na’t kapag trapik. I commend her road-savvy skillsets in exploring the insides of the Sampaloc community nang bumiyahe kami mula PGH during primetime.

“Miss, alam mo, kahit hubarin mo jacket mo, okay lang, hindi naman malamig.”
“Okay lang po ako, thanks.”

“May number ka?”
“…”
“Ilang taon ka na, miss?”
“…”
GET OUT OF THIS PLACE, Jess.
Z, look at me. PLEASE Z LOOK AT ME.
Lis, I NEED HELP PLEASE LOOK AT ME.

“Miss, may boyfriend ka na?”
Jess, you can walk away. Kaya mong lumaban.
You know Krav Maga, or at least, remember some methods.
Jess, have courage. WALK AWAY.

“Miss, subukan mo ngumiti kapag tutugtog na kami sa last set. Hindi ako yung singer pero magaling akong mag-bang. Hehehe”
“…”
OH MY GOD THIS MAN FUCK KAYA MO SYANG BALIBAGIN, JESS.
BUT CHOOSE TO WALK AWAY.

“Miss, what’s your name? Nagsisimula ba sa letter J?”
WHAT IN THE FUCK IS –
“Janice? Jasmine? Jas? Jes?”
“…”
“Oh, Jes? I saw your surprised eyes. Jes, the name alone got me excited. Nakaka-inspire tumugtog.”
STOP TOUCHING MY HAIR STOP TOUCHING MY FACE STOP IT STOP IT WALK AWAY JESS SHUT UP YOU MONSTER PLEASE SAVE ME SAVE ME ANYONE PLEASE LOOK AT US LOOK THIS WAY!!!

“Nice music paps, pero tanginamo!”
HARD PUNCH YUN. BLAG. GRABE. YEAH, HE DESERVED IT.

“Putangina mo at sa mga katulad mong magaling mambiktima tangina mo kasama ka sa mga kalipunan na nanggagago ng mga estudyante ko.”

“Hey, stop. Wala na syang malay. Tutugtog pa raw sya!”

“Tugtog nya bayag nya! Okay ka lang?”
“Ha?
“Pareng paradox is what they call me.”
“Ha?”
“Minsan, sir Araullo. Nagtuturo kasi –”

“SIR!!!”
“Sapakan pala gusto mo! Pre, ano?”
“Tama na!!!”
“Jess?!?!”
“Z LET’S GO!!!”

Sir, wait lang, huwag kang matutulog. Huwag na huwag, malapit na tayo! Nasa Lacson bridge na, ilang lipad na lang ni Z sa kotse. Kausapin ko kaya si sir?

“Hi.”
“Hi. Pero wait lang po sir, huwag ka muna magsalita, may sugat ka pa.”
“Okay ka lang, miss?”
“Okay ako, salamat.”
“Wallet ko. Right pocket. Andun ang ID ko.”
“Okay, okay.”

“Okay ka lang ba? Hindi ka ba nagkaka-anxiety? Tremors, or anything?”
“Narito naman ang mga kaibigan ko, nakabantay rin sa akin. Okay na ako. Ikaw?”
“Ito, duguan.”
“Sir naman, nagawa mo pang magbiro.”

“Stop calling me sir, hindi kita estudyante.”
“Ha? Sabi mo kasi –”
“Sid. Ako si Sid. Gusto ko munang matulog, nahihilo ako.”
“Wait lang malapit na tayo nasa Faura na tayo!”

“Saan tayo papunta?”
“I need to check your head. Ide-derecho kitang ER.”
“Ha? Ospital?”
“Oo, Sid. PGH. Asa ER na tayo.”

Poetics: lumang akda, nilapat ko ito noong pandemic lockdowns kasi gusto kong subukan sumulat ng maikling kwento o dagli na dadaan sa kahabaan ng Espanya hanggang kamaynilaan. Sinubukan kong sumulat nang walang quotation marks, pero hindi ko pa kasi kilala si Sally Rooney nang nilikha ko ito, kaya mas pinili kong may quotes para mas accessible sa batang mambabasa ang pagbagtas sa mga daan at sa mismong kwento. Isa pa, ginawa ko ang kwentong ito habang nakikinig sa kantang Alive ng Never the Strangers — mga tatlong oras on-loop. Maganda ang ritmo ng kanta sa bawat tipa at paglabas ng adrenalin rush sa akda.

Hajimete no Onsen Taiken

(My very first Onsen experience)

08 October 2025
19:15
Yol Guesthouse
Takeo City, Saga Prefecture

In the same entrance I found myself excited to try this Town’s proof of jumping back to its pre-lockdown years: Onsen is now back for business!

Takeo Onsen is a sleepy town. Like Hida City in Gifu. Two main differences are: Onsen is more famous in Takeo and Beef is better in Gifu.

In the genkan I find myself being lost with two sets of lockers: One for the outside shoes, the other for your phone and other valuables. Turned out, you cannot use your phone inside. Let alone take photos upon entering the Moto Yu bathhouse. I find myself lost, yet again, in a community of obaachans bringing their luxurious soaps and serums, their designer bags locked away with the ¥100 old-style coin locker. Turned out, yet again, I was the most morena and the most fuwa-fuwa (plumpiest) contender to do the ceremony. I was also the dumbest: I forgot my personal care set from the coin locker. I only brought my adaptability life skill and a towel strip for my hair.

At the wash area, there are two huge bottles, free to use. The Liquid body wash and the combined shampoo and conditioner are on standby. I hope I won’t get dandruff agter using these Japanese concoctions on my scalp.

While shampooing I caught myself being stared at by the obaachan on my right. Was she sizing me up? Do I look like gaikokujin enough? Even though I lacked the expertise of reading kanji, I can speak their language… nanto naku. Somehow.

When I was about to execute the script in my head with “Shiitsure desu ne,” or in Tagalog, “Nakakabastos naman ate,” a voice from my far left said something like [Going to the pool]. But with a Hakata ben — a different sound from the Far East Tokyo (and their differing Keigo or Japanglish), or the midwest Kansai region (with statements ending with a meow sound).

Ahh. These obaachans must be friends.

After my intense wash and multiple use of the little basin to acclimitize my overweight physique, I fixed my hair. Then I covered it with the mini towel I brought, And finally, dipped my legs to the 44 celsius Onsen heat. It stings at first, not being used to the very hot pool, together with the risk of being easily dehydrated. Its first three minutes a painful reminder that we do not have this back home — that little posporo condo got no built-in heater in the shower — because I don’t want my electric bill to balloon with my never-ending mortgage! Then comes that soothing comfort, a scene from the anime shouting “woooh!!! kimochii!!!” and then the pause, just chilling and watching the steam take away the fatigue and the bad vibes.

The obaachan from before is about to join me in this large hot pool, yet stationed herself on the opposite end, sitting beside her “friend” (neighbor, perhaps?). Other obaachans went to the cooler section, their backs very red from where I am now seated.

These obaachans, I wonder if they do this regularly? Do they establish a routine of onsen trips? And if they do, won’t they feel awkward?

If Tricia and Lyra and I plan a trip together and go to an onsen as a culminating itinerary and a test of companionship, will they be absolutely delighted? Or will they respond with the polarizing take — being terrified? Aba’y paano na ang test of friendship na yan? Lol. Maybe at this point, it will be harder for it to come true, since both of them are already married — and one of them already have a boy having random fits of kakulitan and temper tantrums.

And maybe instead of waiting for the “culminating itinerary”, I went for it and experience the onsen in solitude.

ALONE X TOGETHER: A beauty that is transient and fleeting in a shared space. Sobremesa can be a nice ring to it, although the spanish loan-word is more apt to a dining table, a perfect setting to the current ordeal of writing a creative nonfiction with a Spanish-Japanese haafu eating bento in front of me. Konbanwa, ate!

I’d like to link this little onsen adventure as a wabi-sabi experience. After all, taking a bath is supposed to be a solitary activity. But onsen made it more unique, akin to a sense of community. Without speaking to each other, you share the same desire of removing fatigue and the same challenge of scrubbing your own back with the little towel one tows upon sliding the door open to the huge hot basin.

Flashing back to the logistics of the hot bath, one obaachan said she’ll go ahead and dry up. Upon standing I saw her very red back, her skin as perfect as the newly-cooked shrimp. Meanwhile, I stared at my legs and it looked like a perfectly roasted chicken: a reddish-brown specimen ready to be eaten. Ano raw?! Hahaha tama na nga! Hmn! I got myself changed and hair dried. Upon buying a cold bottle of fanta I saw the other obaachan and shouted “Oi! Ikku da tou!” Not directed to me, but to an old man watching the weather forecast for the next day, his wet hair too close to the TV.

And after a little post-onsen foot massage for ¥100, I exited the place.
Sleepy, yet tottemo satisfied.

A Love Letter from an Anxious-attached Woman with a Manic Episode

Dearest M,

How is your recent life in Idaho? And why are you not texting me? Do you enjoy your trips on that other side of the world?

So. In the next days of our lives, we shall spend in silence? Like minding ourselves be sucked in our respective worlds, watching our own interests in a nook called a mobile phone? What about the conversations that we used to have? When I tried to engage in sharing my stories, you just dismiss it with a humorless jest, and making it repetitive, a routine unconscientiously performed after days—fuck it, months—of absence?

It feels convoluted, meeting this person.

Does this mean that I learn to settle in this dynamic that bears no joy, not even a high, “for now”?

Intellectualize this: Were you an absent partner on your previous marriage, resulting to a third party you caught in the act? If yes, most likely, your history will repeat itself. You are now on the brink of reprising the role your absent father did to your mother.

And its absence lingered on this timeline.

I miss you.
I am sorry for being this destructive and resentful. It is tough managing an avoidant.

I love you.
But sometimes, I do not love you because of what we have now.
“Out of sight, out of mind.”

And I do not want to hate myself for it. I guess this is how our love works, right?

Sometimes, the kilig comes as a huge tsunami wave whenever you come home and we share the silent space together, and yet, sometimes I am resenting that same silence whenever we independently face our own struggles.

I think this is our kind of love, right? And after all these years, I am still navigating this with sonder and wonder that maybe our storyline is not as unique as the others. Maybe, we have that sentiment that is transcendent, like the novels that we read.

Maybe at the end of the day, loving is about choosing.

And even though moments hurt and memories fade, I choose you.

Break or no break,
E.

Poetics: Actual submission to the JFF25 contest in facebook page. I hope to win free tickets or anything. If I don’t win, meh, then you see my thought process in my current struggle of not seeing my date in the last five months of our lives.

Imumungkahi Ko Sana

Nang una kitang makita sa Changi
dito sa kinikilalang layover of Asia,
bumalik ang ating kabataan
sa sintang paaralan.

Sa komyut, sumakay tayo ng MRT at
pareho tayong tahimik.
Bigla mong nabanggit,
“Naalala mo pa ba ang adventure sa trolley?”
Natawa ako at naisagot ang,
“Hahaha! Onga, dun sa Pandacan!”

Malayo na tayo sa riles ng PNR.
Malayo na sa sigaw ng alsa at pakikibaka;
Sa pagkamulat at pag-aaktibista.

Hindi ko na rin naabutan
ang iyong pamamaalam. Nagulat na lang akong
bahagi ka na ng diaspora.
Ang sabi nila, ito ang iyong pagtawid
mula sa pagkukubli.

Dumaan ang sampung taon at
narito ako’t kausap ka.
Narito at plano kang tanungin:
“Papayag ka pa rin bang ika’y maging akin?”

Narito ako para umamin at sabihing:
Sa pagkawala mo’y mas natutunan kitang mahalin.
Sa pagparito ko’y mas natutunan kitang tanggapin.

Ang alam ko, kakaiba ang tinig ng aking pag-ibig:
Mas malawig, mas humahamig.
Mas sumusuong, mas humahamon
sa paglipas ng mga taon.

Iniibig kitang higit sa pinagmulan, bitbit ang hirap ng ating karanasan.
Iniibig kitang lalo nang ika’y maglisan, hanggang sa kasalukuyan.

Tumatawid ang tinig mula sa puso,
at lumalampas sa kahulugan ng
kabaklaan.

Poetics:

I did go to Singapore with a proposal in mind to an alumni of the same college. That question in mind became a core memory, as I was in the phase of moving on (from an ex) and learning to love myself again. I may not remember fully what has happened, but I remember the sensibilities: the moments of openness and vulnerability.

The throwing of pillows, ugly-crying and lashing out the hurt, shouting “I do not care about your money or perks, if you end up alone and loneliness gets overbearing, tandaan mo ako.” And how he cried in response, hugging me back while I was crying. The tears on his shirt, my arms on his shoulders; his soothing hands on my back comforting me. As we let go of each other’s embrace, we held our hands, tears in both of our eyes.

That moment healed me in more ways than one.

Mga Alon ng Kalungkutan

Raw materials retrieved from my 2019 tweets. Re-worked and then submitted in the Mountain Beacon facebook page. Perhaps, they will be used again as content in my stories of loneliness, anxieties and dreads. After all, my heart became at ease as soon as I put them all on paper.

Tiong Bahru, August 2022

“Hindi na yata ako makakahanap. Napaglipasan na ako.”

And I felt that loneliness na wala na siyang magiging life partner.
He will be like me.

A voice inside me asks,
“Baka pwede ako? We can try, at least.”

HK Airport Confessions, 2019

There was a wave of loneliness earlier today.

Little waves came when I saw my luggage exceeding 2kg from the enforced carry-on. I kind of willingly surrender some of my clothes to the bin, and put all the luxurious soaps hoarded inside my purse. Tried removing things here and there.

A medium wave came when I saw a yuppie couple before the immigration gate, hugging and talking in their mother tongue, and the guy stayed while the girl rolled her luggage and walked away. It sucks that you are the one making the departure.

The huge one came when I entered the airport rails to the boarding gates, when these old Lolas and Lolos seated inside and merrily talking, in a language I cannot comprehend (even via context clues!).

I was wondering, why do I keep on leaving..? I mean before, whenever I leave, I feel excited or light and happy. But then again I thought, what about those being left? What if… I become part of the other side — the woman who stays and waits?

I realized, we need to treasure every “now” that we hold in our hands. We have to be brave in unfolding ourselves, and drop those inhibitions. So that when they leave, we don’t regret. Or…

We regret less, and we wait more.

BGC High Street at 3AM

They say that loneliness comes in waves. A variety of sizes, a plethora of sounds. Sometimes, it appears as a ripple. Like a little crystal between the toes, being playful. In rare instances, they come in huge waves, like you are in a little kayak in the middle of the sea.

As I was walking the city at 3AM, the little ripples came knocking at my senses. It started to build up, and when I opened the door — the huge wave surprised me. I felt like I was drowning, but my feet kept walking on the concrete. I was haunted. My doubts and fears… those anxieties that you thought you never could have… 

The heart started to beat fast, the chest started to heave sighs, the sight started to blur.
Little did I know, I was crying.

I talked to God. And I whispered this deepest fear at the moment… On what to do next, do I take it logically, should I be analytical on things and such. But there’s no answer. All I did was cry and sigh and walk. I think I was like a soldier becoming tired of getting through the day. Heck, tired of getting through life. And yet, I remembered Lolo’s story:

In waves, one must learn total surrender, and the art of dance.

And so I danced with the waves coming and going. Suddenly, all of it just melted away. Like the battle of storm clouds finally ended, and the waves became little ripples again. But this time, they are subtle and at peace.

My heart became at ease.

Paglagos, Papunta, Pabalik

Published in the Literary Tuesdays of Mountain Beacon

“Kuya, daan tayo sa mahiwagang portal! Ipapakita ko sa inyo…”

Isang napakahabang street, taliwas sa regular na bagtasan ng mga galing kyusi, ang Sta. Teresa De Avila. Ito ang aking mahiwagang shortcut mula sa condo papunta sa opisina ko sa BGC. Katapat ang ilog na naghahati sa dalawang lungsod: Ang Pasig kung saan ako naging batang yagit; at ang Makati kung saan ako minulat ng pag-aaral, ng nagtataasang mga gusali, at ng katotohanang sila ang kuta ng mga naghaharing-uri. Ang aking nakilalang Makati, na sa isang iglap ay biglang sinakop ng Taguig.

Katulad ng Ilog Pasig na natutuyo sa tag-init at sapilitang nilalamon ng putik, tila sapilitang nilulukob ang kinagisnang EMBO ng BGC. Tinatago ng mga naglilipanang gusali ang tunay na nagpapawis, makabayad lang ng overwhelming buwis na dapat ay para sa mga burgis. Paano pa ba makakatipid sa pasahe at gastusin kung sa ilang linggong paparating ay araw-araw nang papapasukin (sa opisina)? Minsan, gusto ko na lang tumalon sa ilog at magpaanod dahil ang buhay recently ay nakakapagod…

Pero heto ako, patuloy na lumalangoy sa mahiwagang portal mula sa opisina, pabalik sa bayang naging taal.

Bidyoke Sa Gedli

Pagkatapos ng PRPB Book Talakayan, sumama ako sa mga kaibigang dumalaw sa Silingan Coffee. Ang sabi-sabi, may kaunting pa-party ang mga may-ari. Dahil masyadong maaga kami dumating, nakita ko ang pagse-set up sa labas ng tindahan: laptop at speaker, mic, camera, mga mesa at upuan. Hindi pa fully ready, kaya naghapunan muna kami.

Pagbalik muli sa kapehan ay nakita namin ang kainitan ng kantahan ng mga kababaihan ng Silingan— mga nanay, lola, at ate; mga human rights advocate, trauma counselor at jounalist — mga babaeng naging kaibigan at kaanak ng mga biktima ng EJK. Lumapit sa amin ang isa at nag-anyaya na kami’y makikanta at makisayaw sa kakantahin nila sa bidyoke. Maya-maya lamang, siya’y nagsalaysay tungkol sa kanyang lalaking anak na pinaslang ng pulis; tila ang tingin sa kaniyang buhay ay walang saysay. Kahit masaya syang may lumipad sa Hague, bumuntung-hininga siya at sinabing, “Wala namang araw na hindi mabigat. At alam nating simula pa lang ito ng mahabang laban.” Pero biglang kumabig at nagsabing, “Ngayon, hinga muna at pagbigyan ang sarili. Mag-celebrate sa little win.”

Habang kinakanta nila ang Tatsulok, hindi ko mapigilang makikanta at isigaw ang “Hangga’t marami ang lugmok sa kahirapan, at ang hustisya ay para lang sa mayaman!” Batid ko, kasama ng sanlaksang kababaihang nakiki-jamming, na mahaba pa ang laban. Na kailangan nating mas maging matatag. Sa araw-araw, tapang ang ating tangan.

Tila bumulong muli ang tanong ng author sa pinanggalingang panayam, “Ella, hindi ka rin ba nasusugatan?” Kasabay ng biglang pag-alala ay ang aking paghawak sa mukhang tila nilamig ng minsanang hangin ng gabi.

Yun pala…
May mata nang tumubig.
May luha sa pisngi.

Ang Larawan Bago Ang Iyakan

Epistolary Rebyu

Book Review of Kaisa Aquino’s Isabela

Dear Dok bb,

Nag-alala ako slight nang hiningi mo ulit yung phone number ko sa minsanang kwentuhan natin sa IG, sabay kumabig ka ng “Grabe ang barilan dito sa Mindanao, patayan basta pera.” Sinagot kita ng “Umuwi ka na, giyera ang lugar na yan.” Pero alam nating pareho na hindi ka basta uuwi, kasi maliban sa tawag ng pangangailangan pinansiyal, ay alam nating pareho na mas tinatawag ka diyan ng iyong propesyon, lalo na’t ang onti ng doktor na nade-deploy sa Marawi.

Katulad kong sumasabak sa adhika ng pagbabasa at pagsusulat (habang ka-dribble ang pagiging Banker), sumusundalo ka rin bilang IM consultant at EM doctor on call. Pareho tayong alipin ng propesyon, pero palaging nasa bulsa ang panawagan ng aksyon. If the Lord is watching from afar, sana naman gawan ng paraan na magkalapit tayo. Kasi, mahirap ang pakikibaka sa araw-araw nang magkalayo ang mga puso.

Pero sa pagbabasa ko nitong unang nobela ni Kaisa Aquino, bigla kong na-realize na ang bawat kilos natin, may impact pala sa tao na hindi natin aakalain. Itong ambag nating social activism, maybe big or small, ay humuhubog sa ating pagkuwestiyon sa “ok na to!” ng kasalukuyan. Gusto nating pareho ng pagbabago, pero hindi natin kasingtapang ang mga namumundok. Gusto nating labanan ang mga demonyo, pero sa dami ng nasa paligid, tila bumabangon tayo sa bagong apokalipto. Kahit yung pinupush kong “shaping pinoy literary landscape, one story at a time” kineso hindi ko basta i-lezzggooo! Mahirap kapag ang sistema, nakakapit pa rin sa galaw ng salapi, sa mga “what’s in it for me?” at sa iba pang mekanismo ng kaperahan at kapitalismo.

Binigyan ako ng hopecore malala ng mga kabanata ng Isabela. Dito kasi, binigyan nya ng boses ang mga babaeng umiikot sa mundo ng pag-aklas. May mga mas matapang sa akin na tinamaan na ng bala, may mga chill lang na propesora. May mga burgis din na gusto lang mag-rebelde noon, pero de-kalibre ang network ngayon. At may katulad kong nagta-trabaho, pero may kipkip na kagustuhan ng pagbabago sa bawat pagbangon. Grabe dok, my crying time and my hormonal rage biglang nagpi-peak nang hindi ko akalain! Sobrang naka-relate ako sa kwento ni Belay at Balong, kasi yung bonding ng magkapatid nakita ko yun sa amin ni Kuya. Sobrang nainggit ako sa kwento ni Celine at papa niya, kasi alam nating pareho na hindi ganun ang tatay ko. UP Graduate lang yun si Papa, pero isa siya sa mga naki-network sa mga heneral para pumaldo, bago ipang-casino. Lol biglang pumakla, sorry dok. Pero sa bawat kwento ng Isabela, tinutunton ako sa mga lugar na malayo sa galaw ng aking propesyon. Tila lumiliit ang lente sa pagtikatik ng keyboard at hum ng standing desk, at mas tinatanong ko ang sarili: Kaya ko pa bang sumigaw ng paghihimagsik kung ang mundo ngayon ang mismong sumisikil sa aking tinig?

Kasi, kung aklas rin lang naman, tbh, count me out. Hindi ko kaya malayo sa danas ng peti-burgisan. Hindi ko kaya magbitbit ng armas at pumunta sa kanayunan. Hindi pa bayad ang aking mortgage, at hindi ko pa nakukuha ang retirement. So kapag ako’y biglang ma-redtag, baka forever na akong maging pipi online at offline. Hindi ko rin masisisi ang mga Raphael / Apa sa nobela. Kasi hindi ko personally alam ang tindi ng dahas ng mga taong armado. Nakarating na ako ng abroad nito, ha! Paano pa kaya kapag binabasubas pa ang maliliit na tao?

Kaya katulad mo, minamahal natin ang bayan sa paraang alam natin pareho: tumutulong kapag may delubyo ng bagyo. Proud ako sa tapang ni Kaisa na ikwento ang iba’t ibang anino ng hinagpis kapag hinahagupit ng bagwis (ng bagyong Harurot): ang pagkawala at bawat pagmulto ng ating mga mahal sa buhay. Even the aftermath of grief is being written poignantly through Celine’s everyday.

Tapos dok, di ba napanood mo na yung Kimi No Nawa? Yung magic ng timeline jumps and long distance connections? May magic din yung libro! Hindi sya tuwiran, like speculative fiction ah, pero yung mga pangalan nila magkakarelate! Parang akong meme (yung manong na may mapa sa likod nya!) nang sinubukan ko ilista ang mga tauhan at paano sila nagko-connect. One example na yung mga Raphael at mga Caloy sa iba’t-ibang kabanata, pati yung mga Isang / Issey / Sabel / Belay! Akala ko, iisang tao sila, hindi pala! Parang echo lang — iba’t ibang pagkatao— but for some reason, pare-pareho ang nagiging life decision. Hindi ko mai-explain nang maayos, haha! Basahin mo na rin kasi! Puru ka kasi high fantasy eh. Kaya tayo hindi nagkakaroon ng buddy read kasi magkalayo ang genre na binabasa natin.

Saludo ako kay Kaisa rito, dok. Kapag natatanong ko sa sarili ko, anong ambag ng isang akda sa pambansang panitikan, eh medyo malaki ang ambag ni madam. To think na kapwa babae din sya huhu, #AbanteBabae! Lavarn pak ganern she is contributing another resistance piece for us to stop look listen and learn! Eme!

Dito na lang muna, ang OA na ng liham ko sa haba. Book review talaga ito dok, hehe. Pero kung mababasa mo man, pakituldukan. Bago tayo magbangayan. Tuldok mo lang masaya na ako, char. Pero gusto ko rin magpa-baby, abah! Hindi yung forever akong hyperindependent strong woman of the nation! Ako ay tao rin lamang at naghahanap ng labing-labing.

Hopefully soon, ang mame-message mo,
“Malapit na ako bb pauwi na ako.”

See you when I see you,
Banker bb

PaRosa sa Opisina

Drafted Poem for Literary Tuesday of Mountain Beacon; Didn’t push through since I really sucked at Poetry.

Mula opisina
Tangan ang rosas na nag-iisa
Habang binabata
Ang dibdib sa paggala
Mula BGC hanggang Roma.
Hindi ko kinaya
Ang puyat at pata,
Kaya napilitang pumara
Sa traysikel, una nyang pasada.

Na-realize kong hindi ako marunong tumula…

Nakakawili lang na
Ang tema ay bulaklak sa akda,
At ako’y kumukuda
Habang ang rosa
Ay nakasalpak sa bagong labada,
Mabangong suotin

Mula kay Mama.