Snippets

I have been a big fan of keri smith for the last 4 years.  Kept me upbeat and smiling during my down days when work was too stressful that you want to beat everybody up (well just a thought, won’t be able to put it in practice–i’m out of practice). 

Keri Smith writes has started her blog for quite some time now.  What i appreciate about it is that she finds joy even in the most little things, things which may seem insignificant to us at times.  She hears a story in a tune she overhears from a neighbor and beauty from a leaf–and writes so that we also can appreciate life from her eyes.

Just wanted to share this.  Check out her blog at:  Keri’s smith’s journal

I hope you enjoy it as i do. 

It’s quiet next door.  Our neighbours are probably sleeping this storm out.  There was a time when we first moved in here, our next-door neighbour was a family of three—a mother and two boys, a teenager and a recent college graduate.  They were great neighbours, we exchanged dishes sometimes (especially during the holidays) and we bring them biscocho when we get back from the province.  They’ve moved out now (to Sampaloc, I think, or was it Singalong). 

They were great to have as neighbours (oh, except for their cat which had fleas that sometimes loiter on the corridor).  They were a concerned lot, someone you can call on to in case of emergency (or burglary).  In the same way, we are too.  They can call us in case of emergency (at least we can dial the emergency numbers since our first-aid capabilities are limited—very limited).  In case of burglary, we can also be counted on to help, provided we are awake.  If we’re asleep, we’re really dead to the world.  I remember they once had a burglar coming through their terrace but the mom, Tita Ellen, heard the noise and peeped through the window at the same time that the burglar was about to peep too.  They scared each other away.  They caused such a racket that our landlady on the next lot has awakened.  The police had come and gone, the barangay tanods too.  And there we were, the concerned neighbours, mouths open loudly snoring.  So much for our neighbourly concern. 

They were a singing lot too.  We could always hear them singing (videoke specifically) every Sunday afternoon.  They had good voices, all of them.  When it was Tita Ellen, the songs were by the Carpenters, Beatles & other oldies (or rather classics), when it was the boys, it was most likely, Matchbox 20, Michael Learns, Bamboo or other alternative rock bands.  They were not noisy, we enjoy listening.  Their voices carry through their sliding doors to our terrace.  We used to hang out in the terrace during Sunday afternoons so they provided our background music.  Even during the other days, we could hear the boys singing as they go downstairs.  You see, we have a common stairs going through both our units, so we always meet each other coming and going.  And when we bump into each other, they just pause to smile or greet then go on with their singing. 

They were a cheerful lot.  Though they live simply & by modest means, you can see they’re contented and happy.  Goes to show that happiness does not necessarily come with material wealth.  I know! I know!  I’ve known it for a long time but sometimes we forget (or I forget).  You know when you want so much shoes or can’t afford a Bottega bag.  Affirmations such as these are reminders that we don’t need to have a lot of material things, of money, to be happy.  We just have to appreciate the things, family, people and talents that we already have.

Nothing to do with the storm outside, I remember a lot of things.  I remember a great typhoon that hit visayas and caused the first flood in our subdivision.  Our first flood.  I was ten then.

The storm’s fury was felt in the wee hours of the morning (as usual) and when we woke up, it has passed.  The sun was smiling down and the sky was clear, nonchalant, as if nothing happened.

The streets were filled with water though.  At that time the water was clean and clear.  It was ankle-deep (well, a bit above my ankle at that time), the road beneath it is clearly visible, as well as, the leaves and twigs that were beaten by the storm.

It was a happy day, for us kids I guess.  For my parents and other adults, it meant a lot of cleaning up to do.  But cleaning was at the least of my worries then.  We were so excited to go out, ride our bicycles and play on the water.

It was a new experience for us.  Fortunately, our mom permitted us to go out—if the water would have been brown, I doubt if we can even make it out of the door.  So my sister (Karlimae) and I took out our bikes and knocked on our neighbour’s door.  We BIed Toto and Ann-ann, our childhood playmates.  And so, aboard our bikes and dressed in pambahay shorts and shirts, we explored the flooded subdivision.   

We raced with our bikes, parked and played tag with nary a care in the world.  We kicked water at each other and made a contest of having the biggest splash.  We played the whole morning and went home just before lunch.  The water was slowly ebbing away by then.  Bummer!

When we got home, we were all wet, almost waist down but we had such great laughter and smiles that mom hadn’t the heart to scold us.  We enthusiastically told her of our experience, while she was patiently listening, tired from all the cleaning.

It’s sometimes nice to reminisce childhood days, where one hasn’t a care in the world.  No floor to think of sweeping, no windows needing wiping.  No care if getting wet means getting a cold means buying medicine – meaning additional expense. 

Now as adults, it may be fun to play outside in the rain or in the flood but we worry about getting a cold (or leptospirosis!) then buying the meds, etc.

Sigh…Those were the days.

Sept 28

The neighbourhood is quiet today except for the shattering noises caused by the storm.  I was planning to cook lunch early– just fried chicken and rice—before the electricity gets out because of the storm.  Unfortunately, it was faster than I and so electricity is out.  It’s sometimes hard to be too dependent on electricity, your meals are at stake when a storm is coming or when a post nearby get struck by lightning.  Since we don’t have a gas stove (and charcoal and wood are out of the question), we’ll just have canned goods for lunch.  Sigh.  The dilemma of independent (or is it dependent?) living. 

The passing storm

Sept 28

Work is out today because of an upcoming typhoon (it’s signal no. 3 here in manila). Well this is a pleasant surprise holiday for me ( I understand it’s not for some who are already experiencing the effects of the storm). I empathize with them, really. It’s just that sometimes work can take up so much time that such a one day vacation is precious.

It was just a few days ago when we had our workshop and the facilitator was saying ‘if you had one additional hour in a day, what would you do?’ well now, I have one day (not just one hour!) and in the same way that I answered the facilitator, I’m going to spend it reading and writing. I’ve started writing–I’ve already written to a couple of friends whom I haven’t connected for quite some time. I’ll start on my reading maybe later when the laptop’s battery dies down. This is such a great time to write, the house is quiet since my sisters are still asleep. One just came home from work and the hit the sack at 5 am—got engrossed with the net.

It’s dark outside and the wind is strong. I can hear it blowing, like a ghost in a scary movie –a long and intermittent whoooooooooo. A siren wailing warning you to get out of his course because he’s on his way. He’s banging lots of doors and windows on its path and roofs are clanging and trembling as he passes. The plants are bowing in recognition and all the animals outside have taken shelter. He’s pounding all his fury at the houses and trees and everything outside— like an angry man lashing out all his pent up anger. Screaming and pounding. Striking everyone who gets in the way. The rain is sporadic though, like a submissive servant just waiting by the sidelines waiting till his master beckons. It’s the wind that’s really causing the raucous.

It’s cold in here. The electricity is out. It’s dark inside and outside the house. Nobody will brave this storm. It’s going to be a long and dark day…

It’s been a long time since my last travel overseas. I miss it. The frenzied atmosphere of the airport, window-shopping while waiting for my boarding call, the different faces and races. The new people you meet, the anticipation (and anxiety!) at the immigration queue. I remember my Shanghai expedition—I’d call it that– I had a challenging assignment. But I don’t want to remember work. I’d like to reminisce about Shanghai.

Though I’m trying to recall, I can’t remember what my first impression was nor how it was in the airport—probably because we arrived at night and catching a shut-eye was the major concern.

My hotel

I stayed at the Hilton that time. Quite impressive. I loved my room and the bath. But it wasn’t within walking distance from any shopping center—a major factor. Unfortunately, I had no choice in the matter–it was arranged by our Shanghai colleagues. The food was great though! I enjoyed the buffet breakfast, especially on my last day—a Saturday—no work and all play.

Monday to Thursday was all work since we had to report on Friday. Nothing much to tell on those four days. Oh! Except for one small fact—that I had the luck of being in the same hotel as Spain’s national soccer team! And there were times when I with that I was riding in the same elevator with some of them—a handsome group I might say. However, being my la ignorante self, I didn’t know they were the national team (thought they were just a school team doing some inter-school competition in Shanghai!). Not until I read the paper. Two days late. By that time they were all snoozing on a plane to Spain. Not even one picture! So lessons learned: 1) be mindful of men in athletic uniform—they can be celebrities; 2) read the newspaper daily.

Since I had to work the first four nights, dinners were at the hotel. All delectable, each one exorbitant. One dinner at an Italian resto was so expensive I almost choked when I got the bill! It could have been a dinner for four, even at Greenbelt standards! All in all, it’s five stars.

The Bund

Shanghai was a shopping mecca—if you can afford it! It was jungle of skyscrapers and glass buildings—like Ayala, only 20 times as wide and 3 times tall. Friday night was memorable.

I met up with Shalom, a friend whom I met at the airport. We took a taxi from Hilton to the Bund, bought tickets to a river cruise and had dinner while waiting for our boarding time. The cruise at the Huangpu River was great. We boarded our boat at 820pm and enjoyed complimentary tea (what else?!). Our boat was painted in red and gold with a dragon-shape façade.

The view of the ultra-modern buildings on the east side was dazzling. The whole area was radiant, illuminated with lights from all the buildings. The Orient Pearl TV tower was like a giant ball of lights suspended on air. We took pictures of ourselves and the tower, hoping to get the perfect shot, the perfect angle—we spent more than a dozen shots (thank goodness for digital cameras!). There were good pictures of us but half of the tower’s ball-like top; then full ball but with half of our heads; half and half (half the tower and half our heads); and a lot more wrong combinations before we got the perfect shot!

Although the modern buildings were striking, it was the strip of Baroque (or is it Gothic?) structures across it that had fascinated me more—The Bund, they call it. A stark contrast from the sparkling towers of the east. The old facing the new. These buildings had more character—majestic and imposing. Respectable in grays and whites. Like a group of distinguished old men shaped with age and polished by weather—standing proud amidst newcomers.

It was a great aesthetic experience. However, as with everything else, our cruise had to end. We had more than enough pictures of ourselves amidst buildings new and old. We went back to our own hotels. I had a great warm bubble bath and my much-needed snooze. I was excited for tomorrow, my shopping day…

Shopping finds

The next day, Saturday, armed with our most comfortable shoes and renminbi–filled wallets, we went to the Xiangyang Road Bazaar. The first dozen shops were disappointing, the items were Shanghai-priced (translation: expensive!). And this was supposed to be a flea market! I’ve been to Divisoria and Greenhills a hundred times to know that these are overpriced. To think that the goods were “made in china”! Eventually, we discovered the secret. You’d have to bargain up to 75-80% discount in order to maximize this shopping experience. So after our bargaining warm-up, I was thoroughly enjoying myself! I didn’t shop too much since some of the items sold were the same as those in Divi or Greenhills but I did get good bargains. Like a leather wallet I bought (which I didn’t need) for P500 when it was originally priced 6x as much. I was able to get Chinese cushion-covers for only Php75, a great bargain considering it sells about Php200-300 in Philippine department stores. Then of course, I got some souvenirs for my colleagues back home.

Of course we visited the signature shops. The red signs reading “Sale” can’t be ignored! And I can’t leave Shanghai without visiting an Esprit shop. Unfortunately, down-hearted and empty-handed, we left the shops. Everything was “on sale” but the ‘sale’ word is relative. It didn’t seem on sale for me.

So we went back to our flea-market shopping and after a few bargains, we returned to our respective hotels. Despite the disappointing signature-shop experience, I was happily sorting out my shopping finds. I still have enough renminbi for my tour tomorrow. I was going to go to Ikea if I have time—it was my last thought before I dozed off.

My Ikea experience

Sunday, I booked a tour guide and a limo service for my tour. It was going to be my indulgence on this trip. The tour went well we went to a few parks, a convention center and a museum. I can’t remember the names of the places I went to coz it was not so memorable—just your typical tourist sites. But then while we were on our way back to the hotel, we passed by a giant LV bag—it was the façade of an LV store.  I had to get my picture with that! The driver was kind enough to stop and park illegally so that I could have my picture taken. My tour guide was laughing at me because I had a lot more enthusiasm to have my picture taken with the LV bag than with their convention center. He was right. It was the highlight of the day’s tour.

After the tour I still had an hour and a half before airport transfer. I still had time for Ikea—my last shopping hurrah. And boy, was it a great place to end my trip!

When I got there, it was like my eyes and feet were not coordinating. I didn’t know where to go and what to get first! Good thing they have this map and I noticed they had huge arrows on the floors for shopping maniacs like me who didn’t know where to start—the place was so big! Since I only had an hour left, I was panicky. So many things to buy, so little time! My adrenaline was so pumped up that I was hyperventilating. So I grabbed my cart, stopped myself from literally running around the place, and did what I do best—brisk walking.

I had three pasta jars on my cart, a dozen spice jars, two wooden statuettes, two floor mats, a pack of chopsticks (which until now, I haven’t used), a couple other kitchen ornaments. I spent a lot of time arguing (with myself) if I should get a carpet or not, but my practical side won. I can’t lug that around. Then I was contemplating on the Japanese lamp, a table lamp and a wire-mesh trash can which were priced so low by Philippine standards, but I would have difficulty packing. Gosh! Everything was priced so low there that if I could only bring a bed or lounge chair, I’ll buy one. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much time. I only have twenty five minutes before my airport service arrives at the hotel. So I had to run to the counter and cash in my purchases. Twenty minutes and counting…

When I was asking the cashier about packing this in a box explaining I had to bring this to the Philippines, she was just smiling and nodding at me, pointing me to the direction of Customer Service. Okay, at least, they’ll be able to box it. I only have fourteen minutes left. When I get to the Customer Service counter, I realized, it was going to be self-service. You’ll have to pack it yourself! Now, I’m really having difficulty breathing—I had to pause and take deep breaths for a couple of seconds because I was afraid I’d faint from a panic attack (and I can’t afford to faint coz I didn’t want to miss my plane!). Luckily, all my purchases fit on the first box I got. I only had 9 minutes left, I needed to find a taxi.

Fortunately, the taxi driver was fast. I was five minutes late from my pick up time but the transport service was still gracious. After I got my luggage and got settled on the limo, I was able to take a long deep breath and my adrenaline rush left me. It was then that I felt so exhausted (like I did a 400m dash) and my feet feel numbed from all the tension. Now I’m looking forward to my long nap at the plane.

I recounted my experience at Ikea and laughed at myself. It was like replicating my Esprit experience in Hongkong—but that would be another story.

We brought several Baseco kids to an Educational Tour yesterday.  A whole day tour with Museo Pambata as the first destination, then the Planetarium, and last is Fort Santiago.  It was part of Pfizer’s Engage program—completing a number of hours of community work.    Several of my colleagues had never been to Museo Pambata before so they were excited, some wanted to see it and bring their kids after but others were just plain excited because it would be a new experience. 

As one of the organizers of the tour, I was a bundle of nerves.  I wanted everybody to enjoy the day, crossing my fingers and toes hoping zero hitches today.  We started early, picking up the kids from their GK community at 9am.  Although we had three major destinations, the Museo experience was the most enjoyable.  Kids and kids-at-heart had a great time discovering and re-discovering. 

When we arrived, the tour guide gave us an intro of the Museo and had us form a line—ala flag ceremony style sans the arms forward raise.  When he instructed the kids that they can crawl inside the mouth-shaped entrance leading to an esophagus tunnel, Betty J & other colleagues also crawled inside with them. Emerging from the ‘esophagus’ it was the adults who had wider smiles than the kids.  It was a wonderful sight to see Betty giggling with her ‘adopted kid’ as they materialized at the end of the tunnel.  With her new job and the OP, it had been several weeks since we saw Betty in a light-hearted mood, much more laugh like a young girl.

In the Sports Room, the two Kuyangs, DMU & RMS, forgot their differences (and age) and played basketball with the boys, reliving their younger days—cheering the boys and themselves.  A few minutes later, on the Heroes’ Room, we caught DMU listening intently to the phone where a recording of Apolinario Mabini’s life is being played.  He had such intense seriousness on his face, you could have thought he was having a telecon with the dead hero himself.

On the Science Room, I caught a glimpse of Edwin and Alan playing with the tornado machine—mesmerized.  They alternately pushed the buttons so that hot air goes out of the holes and create a tornado effect.  They were like boys who had their first Nintendo, grinning in amazement with their new toy.   

Then I bumped into Gemma who was beaming.  Pulling me aside she showed me the magic mirror, labelled “A different me”.  With a great smile and a giggle, she said, “See!  I still have hope.” It was her thin self!  You see Gemma is a bit chubby, i might say, and is trying (I think!) to shed off some pounds.  She saw on the mirror her future self.  I took a picture of her and her thin reflection, I’m hoping the image inspires her to try harder.  But nonetheless, it would be her remembrance of what once was and hopefully what she will become.

As we went on, we came into the Environmental Room.  It was a replica of a healthy forest, with tall trees, green shrubs and a clean waterfall.  Ducking our heads, we passed underneath a faux cliff, ‘twas was supposed to be a miniature waterfalls sans the water.  While we were in the middle of the picture taking, we heard a sound like that of flowing water then what followed prompted several oohs and aahs from kids and olds alike.  A deluge of water streamed from above the cliff forming a transparent curtain just in front of us.  So there was water in the waterfalls after all!  You’d never imagine something as simple as that would elicit amazement from the adults.  I understand it was a source of wonder for the kids but for my colleagues, it was quite surprising, looking back now.  I guess being with the children brings out the kids in us.  We often get caught up in the daily grind of life that we forget that we once were children.  And that we’re really kids trapped inside an old shell.

My anxiety has been allayed.  We started out with the goal of making the kids happy but in the end, it was us who were happier.  A decade younger, a few pounds lighter and with spring in our steps.  The kid is coming out again… 

Met with a friend today.  It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.  It’s great to connect and get updated with each other’s lives from time to time. 

There are time when you just get so caught up with work and stuff that you forget to call or see old friends–ask how they are, what’s going on with their life… 

Come to think of it, sometimes we even forget to ask those people whom we see everyday.  Are they still okay?  Are they happy?  Or sad? Or lonely?

I think sometimes we have to take a minute and check the person sitting next to us–he/she might be on the verge of depression…suicide…(morbid, I know! but you can never tell).