Ghosts...

In the usual tradition of honoring our dead, we took a day off and trooped to the cemeteries on November 1 to be with our dearly departed. On this day, we brave the human traffic and endure the heat. We even forgive the vendors for their over-priced flowers. My father has been dead for more than 10 years now, but we tried hard to be there for him every year because we would not want him to feel alone when all the other dead have their families at their graves. Funny, because it is as if he can still care...

I remember when he died, we have never experienced anything out of the ordinary. He just silently slipped out of our lives leaving a void. There were no weird noises or sighting, except for one instance in my boarding house in Makati (where I worked during that time). That was in November 1 of 1991, about 3 months after he died. There were only 2 of us left in the whole house because all of our board mates went home to their respective provinces. At around six in the evening, my boardmate and I heard a knock. But when I came to open the door, there was no one outside. Just the empty darkness.

It should have felt spooky but instead, I felt desolate and really sad. I felt in my heart that it was my father who came to visit me, perhaps to say goodbye.

Are ghosts real? I bet they are! But the ghosts that really haunt us are actually the ghosts of our past. Like the ghosts of our past mistakes... Or maybe the ghosts of past failures... Or perhaps the ghosts of unfulfilled dreams. Ever wondered why we feared them? Maybe because their sheer memory still have the power to inflict pain even after they have long been gone...

The Rains Have Come...!

In my opinion, summer has officially ended on the 10th of May. The rainy season was heralded by a storm which lashed Samar, and brought with it cold torrential rains. Suddenly the skies turned dark and gloomy. And although the storm lasted only for about 3 days here in the beautiful island of Cebu, nevertheless the summer spirit has been dampened.

Goodbye sweltering heat, Hello thunderstorms and lightning!

I think the rains have come a bit earlier this year. They're supposed to come around June, but not as early as middle of May. The fiestas in other provinces have just started yet. And the rains would certainly affect the parades and open dances. Not that I'm ecstatic about summer (I even hate it just a bit), but sometimes I find the rains so confining.

The children could no longer run freely in the street, and without them shouting and running around, the streets would be left empty and desolate.

A Toxic Gas and One Hot Summer Night!

It was one of those hot summer nights, in the summer of 2001. It was the kind that makes you edgy and sticky with sweat, which was why I was eagerly looking forward to go home (to have an early dinner and a nice cool bath). Since I had no car, I had no choice but to take the public jeepney which is normally jam-packed with people. I could see that they were also tired, hungry, and probably just like me, straining forward to get home fast.

But traffic was slow and torturous, so slow that we have to stop every few minutes. I could not stop myself from gritting my teeth in sheer frustration, and have to contend in suffering the long ride ahead. Left with no choice, we sat there huddled uncomfortably in dark silence. Some I observed were trying to achieve blank stares, while others were trying to close their eyes feigning sleep (probably wishing that they were already lounging comfortably in their homes). Let me tell you how we look. All the seats were full. Even the center aisle was filled with passengers sitting on low stools. There were men clinging on at the entrance of the jeep, and at that point, we looked more like people being herded towards concentration camps, instead of people trying to go home. Because of the density of the people in that very small space, there was less oxygen circulating around us. It was difficult to breathe, much more move. That people have to suffer in this condition in order to reach home is beyond my comprehension.

Our route was northbound going to Consolacion, and we have to pass over the Mandaue fly-over bridge. When we reached at exactly the midpoint of the flyover, suddenly a most obnoxious smell pervaded the small confines of the jeepney. I assume that the owner must have been suffering from an aching tummy, and had unintentionally released the toxic gas against his or her will because probably he or she could no longer endure holding it. To say that it was really bad is actually an understatement, because it jolted those who were falling asleep, and had us who were awake desperately craning our heads outside the windows trying to gulp whatever better air was available outside! The more the people in the center aisle tried to fan the foul air out, the more it circulated around us. It got stuck inside the vehicle, and for a while it seemed that we were all turning blue from holding our breaths. It was such a nightmare, and nobody could do anything! Everybody seemed to be fighting the urge to jump out of the vehicle. But we were stuck between a 40 foot container van and the ledge of the flyover. Even the driver who got the most advantageous seat muttered curses against the mysterious culprit and threatened to leave the jeepney just to be able to breathe freely again.

But the heavens can give kind justice to us who are suffering in this life. Traffic eventually unraveled, and we were able to move again. Sweet polluted air circulated back inside and we were able to breathe freely once more. I realized (as I walking the short distance towards my home that night), that what happened was actually very funny after all! It taught me one thing, that as we wearily plod along in this sometimes dreary life, something unexpected would spice it up a little bit!

My Angel Wish...

I would not want to think that the advent of newspapers and television has become more of a bad phenomenon for mankind rather than a good one. Despite the enjoyment afforded to us by these things, one can not help but observe that events are most often unfolded in huge scale proportions, probably because there is the intention of delivering more drama than simple facts.

No matter where we go, when we flip the newspapers, or switch on the television sets, we get fresh depressing news every day! I flinched at those gory little details of murders, accidents or other conflicts which are being aired daily by the different television networks at dinnertime. But what is lamentable, is the fact that these horrors have become inordinate yet integral part of our everyday life. One could just imagine the effect of these on the minds of the children. It is possible that in their innocence they view these horrors to be the natural order of life. The thought is indeed very frightening.

Thus it becomes my fervent wish that our news headlines should be spruced up with more inspiring stories instead of horrendous events of atrocities. Surely there must be lots of beautiful stories out there in this still wonderful world of ours, just waiting to be told. Yes, stories which will tell us of hope and goodness of men. Stories which will inspire us, or which will soothe away the fears on real and imaginary frightful things that our hearts assume every tomorrow will probably bring. But i

t is very sad that we have unintentionally relegated stories of goodness and honesty and kindness to children’s books, or worse in fairy tales. It is easier for us to believe that most declared truths are just plain lies, or that there must be some underlying selfish motive behind every good deed. In these times when it is considered cool to be calculated and cold-hearted, it is simpler to accept that people are prone to do bad things rather than good.

One does not know when the exigencies of greed took over one’s life. But long before ambition took control over our lives, sometime before we were driven to accumulate more material things that we could possibly need, I remember that there was innocence in our youth, fewer needs, and simple happiness. That we never knew of their passing spared us from mourning their loss. Unless we remember these things, maybe we do deserve the kind of news we are being fed every day.

Trying To Enter Into The Scene!

Hey, I am new here! In fact I am groping blindly (as in literally) around the site. I am not sure what I am going to write on my blog and how to go about it. But it does not matter anyhow because I am excited, and learning can be a lot of fun. This lady here is trying to enter into the blog scene!

Could not think well, because it is very HOT! It is summer here in Cebu, and the temperature is soaring high (even during the nights). I am kept drowsy by the sweltering heat and my mind is always filled with thoughts of icy and sweet fruit shakes. Thus began my search for the perfect fruit shake. I began by hunting around for those famous mangoes, only to find that the really good ones were already exported. Half of the good ones which are left behind are made either into packaged juices or else as dried fruits. I was left holding in my hands puny little objects which looks anything but, mangoes.

My next target were the sweet, juicy and red watermelons. Unfortunately my search only led me to pale and pink ones instead (though still juicy), but which tasted more like cucumber than watermelons. I confronted my suki vendor for giving me the undesirable items. But he passed the buck and blamed it on the gasoline price increases. I could not fathom the relationship, so I probe him further. In a serious tone he said, "it is a fact of life, that when the price of gasoline goes up - the fruits, the vegetables, including the fish and even the pork also suffer with the human lot!"

Oh well..! who am I to object to his belief. I rest my case...