Metamorphosis

a shift will break

the night

in my head,

i will sleep in all four corners...

we left the precipice

for different reasons;

i was through collecting taxidermy,

you were practicing to become a bird...

emerging between two flares,

this strange kink in your prominence

belonging no more

to one place than the next,

moving sidelong through the flowers,

fast disappearing...

i bring you several years at once,

of last days and future mornings

grafting a place in the sky,

it's a hobby along with beachcombing;

until you evolve, serenely

into someone i have always wanted.

Pusa-kal

-for that cat squashed to pulp infront of La Salle,

and the cat I met last night.

he might have crossed without looking

or his nimble little feet slipped

from the island just as the light turned green

he might have spotted another alley cat

staring with the hots of a Friday evening

he might have been challenged

to test his catty prowess---that swiftness

that sharpens the keen kitty alertness

after months, perhaps even years

of street loneliness

he might have thought of adventures

daddy cat would have warned him

or he might have realized

that nine lives just too much for a lifetime

mommy cat wouldn't have recognized him

nor those who've got the sharp little eyes

for his streamlined leanness

he's just another mat of white fur carpet

soiled at the edges with the grime of wheels

stiff at the seams where the stitches of life gave in---

faceless the bones

which have shaped his feline days

lie scattered

flattened into rags

like tattered snippets of guilt

the rush hour have transformed

into dry absorbers of the day's

doggedness.

Living Treasures

a T'boli weaver

Visiting the 1st AHPADA International Arts & Crafts Expo last Saturday was another enriching experience for me as a Filipino. All ASEAN countries participated in the expo, as well as countries like USA, Maldives, India, Nepal and Nigeria. In a booth called "Kalilimodan" (a gathering) was a visual art exhibit of the Philippines' indigenous people organized by Kalinawa Art Foundation, a non profit organization with a mission to help develop the Indigenous Peoples' art sector.

But I was most interested in the NCCA (Philippines’ National Commission for Culture & Arts) booth where they exhibited traditional musical instruments, wood carvings and a T’boli weaver of tnalak or tboli cloth. NCCA also featured the awardees of the Gawad sa Manlilikha ng Bayan.

There’s a musician from the highlands of Southern Palawan, Masino Intaray who uses traditional musical instruments. A Mangyan ambahan poet from Mindoro named Ginaw Bilog, Lang Dulay, a T’boli weaver from Lake Sebu, Salinta Monon, a Bagobo weaver from Davao del Sur, Alonzo Saclag, a Kalinga master of dance and performing arts, a folklorist from Panay, Federico Caballero, Uwang Ahadas, an instrumentalist from Lamitan, Basilan, Darhata Sawabi, a weaver of pis syabit, the traditional cloth tapestry worn as a head covering by the Tausog of Jolo.

Eduardo Mutuc, a sculptor and wood carver from Pampanga, Samaon Sulaiman, a kutyapi (two-stringed plucked lute) and kulintang (gong-chime) player from Maguindanao, and a master mat-weaver from Tawi-Tawi, Haja Amina Appi.


The artistry and dedication of these living treasures prove just how rich the Filipino culture is. Let’s be proud of our heritage…

Apartment-hunting

For the past month or so I toured several apartments in different areas in Makati. I also drove around the streets near my friends’ home so we could be neighbors. These tours were scheduled before I knew my landlady would change her mind and let me stay. I was being kicked out because my landlady’s youngest daughter is getting married in December and would like to move in my apartment with her new husband. Much as I hate to move, I understand my landlady’s decision.

In my apartment-hunting expeditions, I encountered a few interesting if not weird characters. Each apartment I’ve seen has a name in my head so I wouldn’t forget the details.

The blue door. This was located on a quiet street 10 minutes away from my current apartment. The last tenant left the day before I viewed the place, and it was a total mess. The walls were vandalized with coffee stains and pencil drawings---I imagined people throwing coffee at each other and kids suffering from Dysgraphia writing compulsively on every wall. The whole place looked like the former tenants hadn’t cleaned for years! The owner’s son looked at the place disgustingly while giving me a tour. He promised to call me as soon as the renovations are done, or I’ll give him a call in 2 weeks. P8,000/month. Probably yes.

Bella Flores. I’m calling this brand new apartment ‘Bella Flores’ because the owner has a strong resemblance to the actress. Solid doors, great-looking cabinets, nice bathrooms, spacious rooms. The location is good and the compound looks quiet and secure. But she’s asking too much for this 2-bedroom apartment. Plus, there’s an extra fee for parking space. P10,000/month plus P1,500/month for parking. No way.

Yellow. This is an old apartment but newly painted in yellow. There’s yellow everywhere! No kitchen cabinets, the bathroom looks creepy, roaches were all over the walls in the kitchen. The floors are covered in dirty-white vinyl that resembles a hospital floor. Spacious upstairs bedrooms, big windows, nice garden but very narrow pathway to the gate, street-parking. P7,500/month. Probably not.

Mr. Suave. The gate was opened by a man who has the mannerisms of Mr. Suave. He was disgustingly charming, I almost burst out laughing. When I asked to see the vacant apartment, he rubbed his chin like he was analyzing some math problem that would solve this country’s foreign debt. Then he spoke in his Mr. Suave voice that his family has a tradition of not showing the apartment after 6pm. I was itching to ask---are you afraid of vampires viewing your apartment at night? Then he winked at me and said that he’s breaking the tradition for me because I look like a good girl (akala lang n’ya yon!) and went back inside to get the keys.

Anyway, the street in front of the apartment building was a little flooded due to a broken water pipe. There was also a small mountain of garbage for collection, the gate badly needed a paint job---it looked like a tetanus waiting to happen. Inside was a 2-storey apartment with narrow stairs, small bedrooms and a bathroom for midgets. P7,000/month. No go.

Perfect. A secure gate and a porch, 2 spacious bedrooms on the second floor and a huge bathroom, 1 smaller bedroom on the ground floor that can be a home-office, with built-in book shelves. Hardwood floors upstairs, big windows, large laundry area, and a basketball court [which is converted into a parking lot at night] across the street. The owners are a likeable couple. Problem is, the current tenant has not paid rent for 4 months and kept on promising to pay. The tenant said she’s moving out soon but as of last weekend, the apartment has not been vacated yet. The owners are asking me to wait until the current tenant has moved out. P8,500/month. Yes, yes, yes!

Last weekend I started packing the dinner wares, glass wares and books in boxes---I was planning to move out by end of the month. Then my landlady called the other day to ask if I have already found an apartment and if I have given a deposit. I told her about the “perfect” apartment but haven’t given any deposit yet. She asked if I would prefer to stay---I said yes. After all, moving all the furniture and all my stuff is a lot of work. Even when my cousins, friends and neighbors offered to help me move, it’s still a lot to go through. My landlady explained that she wants me to stay because her soon-to-be son-in-law is not very keen on living so near his in-laws. My prayers were answered, after all!

So here I am, taking out the plates and glasses from the boxes in slow motion while watching TV. Fritz looks at me with his hug-me-I'm-yours-look, tongue sticking out, and wags his tail…I’ll wiggle my tail, too, if I have one.

Secret No More

I have always been apprehensive and reluctant to show doodles and other creative efforts to my family. When my first article was published in my high school paper, an aunt who was an English teacher questioned me endlessly why I didn’t show her my draft. Truth be told, I was afraid of being critiqued by a bunch of aunts, uncles, cousins not to mention my mean sister and brothers. Growing up in a family where people are not shy to express their opinions, it was scary for a 14-year old wannabe-writer to flaunt her efforts at a merciless mob of quipsters.

Imagine yourself rehearsing a declamation piece on top of the dining table with a dozen relatives as your critic, judge and jury. By the time I was 13 I would sneak into the bathroom and lock the door to practice in front of the mirror instead of enduring an afternoon of ruthless coaching from my aunts.

I never flinch when other people criticize me, I had lots of practice at home---I either take it constructively or with a grain of salt. But it’s always difficult to swallow when rebuked by loved ones. Thankfully, I am getting a bit braver and tougher as I age. An aunt now living in Florida sent this email after reading my ‘Miranda’ blog page…

Dearest Luna,

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to read your blogs. While your Tito Dodong was reading to me, I felt like going back to being a child, having fun with everything around me most especially with important people whose principle and conviction I have imbibed, have lived with and never regretted it for one moment. I pray that I can go on living up to their expectation through the last remaining years of my life. To you and me they are immortal and create a kind of feeling of very personal grandeur.

Miranda is very special to us. It is magical. Places are made up of people, and they are those that make happiness real, cause our people are real people, incomparable, compelling and they are alive in you and me and in every generation to come.

When I get so sad I readily accept loneliness. I let my spirit travel to Miranda with my Nanay, and be grateful for having been born, and spent the life I have had, and begin to start living again. I have always believed that we are trained and expected to rise every time we fall. It is in our nature, and that is what we are.

Luna, I will always treasure your e-mails, but this is the best! You gave me a glimpse to peep into your innermost soul. Let us altogether make Miranda come alive. Hopefully we can come to have a place like that with all the dear people and with the help of GOD.

Please give my love and prayers to the family.

Much love from us,
Tito Dodong and Tita Rosie

I actually cried after reading Tita Rosie’s email…well, I’m such a crybaby anyway. But I’m glad that I’ve somewhat overcome being diffident towards my family. Oh well, we're definitely getting better as we get older.

The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.

~Erma Bombeck