My playground

I was reading through my daddy’s subscription of Reader’s Digest when I came across this magnificent structure. I didn’t know what it was, I didn’t even know how to pronounce its name. Finally, I showed the picture to my daddy. He said it was Taj Mahal, and it’s in India. What is that? And where is that? He said Taj Mahal was built by one of India’s old rulers for his wife, who passed away and whom he loved very much. How romantic. I wanted to see Taj Mahal. I was around 8 or 9, and I didn’t know that years later, my dream would come true. I didn’t know when it started, but I’ve always wanted to see the world — to experience different cultures, taste different types of food, to bring home stuff unique to different places. Because I don’t want to forget the places I’ve been to, I’m listing them here. I’ll also make another list — places I want to go to. I will update this perhaps yearly and see if somehow, I’ve managed to go to my “must visit” places.

My first property

In 2010, I bought my first property — a 36-square meter condo about five kilometers away from home. It was my most daring act to date. It means having to pay a monthly mortgage in the next 25 years. I remember stories where about 30 years ago, the monthly mortgage for a house and lot was P200 to P500 monthly. While that money was already a fortune then, right now that kind of money will only buy you a Starbucks meal, or two movie tickets, or a lunch in a decent restaurant. This thought comforts me, and helps me deal with such a long-term financial obligation.

I lost my sole in Batad

April-May 2010, Batad, Banaue, Ifugao, Philippines. I lost my sole in Batad, but it was worth it. In exchange, we had a very adventurous 13-kilometer walk to Batad town after a landslide prevented our hired jeepney to bring us to Saddle town nearest to Batad, trekked to Batad’s amphitheater-like rice terraces, went further to the heart of the mountains at Tappiyah Falls, got drenched by rain, prayed for rocks to stop falling as we hung out in a nipa hut cum restaurant, and walked the slippery steps back to the inn. And because I lost my sole on the way to Batad, my bigger size Roxy flip flops and a rented bamboo cane became my best friends. Definitely one for the books.

Blue flowers

It’s been more than a year and a half, and since my last entry, my “masterpieces” consisted of write ups at work. I love blue flowers. More than a year ago, in 2010, while I was contemplating if I made the right decision to change jobs, I detoured and went to St. Pio church to pray. In front of the altar were clumps of blue flowers, blue hydrangea, my favorite. And then I was at peace. These days, I am hoping for blue flowers — roses, irises, hydrangea, any. I need a glimmer of hope, a promise of happier times, as I grapple with a situation.

Going underground

June 2010, Puerto Princesa, Palawan. Independence Day 2010 long weekend was spent going underground. Or more accurately, paddling underground. For three and a half days, Puerto Princesa, Palawan and its nearby islands were our playground.

State of my being (as P.Noy delivers his first SoNA)

As P. Noy reports the state of the nation, I am contemplating on the state of my being. If my being has a president, what would he be reporting right now on the state of my being?

Light Years

An impromptu lunch out and a Starbucks apple berry treat. Best way to beat the Monday blues. Then this was sent to my Inbox and I felt like re-posting it. Light years by Pearl Jam.

Waiting

Waiting is a mystery – a natural sacrament of life – there is a meaning hidden in all the times we have to wait. It must be an important mystery because there is so much waiting in our lives.

Why is this? Why can we not have it right now what we so desperately want and need? Why must we wait – two years, three years – and seemingly waste so much time? You might as well ask why a tree should take so long to bear fruit – the seed to flower – carbon to change to diamond.

I’m back!

Coming from a vacation and a hectic work schedule, the Blue Iris is back!

Tita Cory, People Power, and the color yellow

I rejoiced when Tita Cory toppled Marcos in a bloodless revolution, through people power. I was only in third grade, yet I was happy. It meant no classes for many days. It meant less absences for me. For during those tumultuous days, I was confined for a week in the hospital. And I needed one month to fully recover. Even then, Tita Cory already helped me out, albeit inadvertently.