♥ ilovemad ♥

toke and temples

Recently, Mochi and I played tour guides to our guests who came over for Sinulog.  Cebu's newest attraction is the presence of whale sharks (Rhincodon typus), locally called toke or butanding.  Hand-fed by fishermen from Barangay Tanaw-an in Oslob, Cebu, these plankton-feeding biggies have grown to number 14 from the initial 7 who showed up a couple of months ago.  I suspect these are the same babies who swam all the way from Sorsogon to chill out here in Cebu since the guys over there don't hand-feed the gentle giants with plankton.  Cebuanos really know how to pamper tourist fishes.  Read: hand feed.

Since whale sharks are mainly found in Sorsogon area, friends from Luzon are crazy over these creatures, saying it's better here in Cebu because they can get really close with the whale sharks without swimming beside them.  Of course, these bloody tourists all broke the five cardinal whale shark rules.  Everyone was touching, petting, feeding and taking flash photography with the toke blokes.

The Whale Shark Code of Conduct:

• Do not attempt to touch, ride, or chase a Whale Shark
• Do not restrict normal movement or behaviour of the Shark
• Maintain a minimum distance of 3 metres from the Whale Shark
• Do not undertake flash photography
• Do not use underwater motorised diver propulsions

For a fee of Three Hundred Pesos (or more, depending on the operator), a person can avail of a banca ride with the fisherman, a life vest and a snorkelling set. So you ask why does this cost so much?  Well, the fishermen have to get out at night to catch these planktons so they can feed the whale sharks in the day time to show tourists about these creatures.  It is silly why the whale sharks don't look for the planktons themselves. The nice thing is that the fishermen lure these creatures to come over about a kilometer's distance from the shoreline so you don't have to go all the way across the Atlantic Ocean just to view the butandings.

I'm not sure about the hype of tourist influx in that small town but 60% of the earnings from the tours go to the fishermen, 30% to the municipal government of Oslob and 10% to Barangay Tanaw-an.  Other charges apply, like renting a beach hut to hang out or the resort charges entrance fees and food corkage.

If water is really your thing, I suggest you go for it.  For now, I am content with touching the whale shark from dry land.

Perched up on Beverly Hills in Cebu is the Taoist Temple.  It's one of the touristy must-go places.  Beware of the security guards who follow you around saying, No pictures, please. Free hot tea is up for self-service by the big hall.

Mochi slept through the rest of the museum tour, so next time nalang.  If you're already planning for your Holy Week getaway, we have bisita iglesia here with an assortment of Catholic Churches, we can throw in buddhist temples and other places of worship, too.

Give us a call at 1-800-MADTOURS.

 

2012: Chinese New Year's eve had me chasing fireworks.  I skipped the dragon dance in the temple for a stake out at the mall's roof deck, armed with my camera and a tripod.  For a five-minute fireworks display at the Waterfront Hotel, the preparation was longer than I thought.  Last minute, my tripod wouldn't open and I was fumbling in the dark.  Thank God, the security guards were helpful in shining their flashlights on me.  In my mind, I was on a National Geographic assignment.  Well, I found a new sport---Photography.  This is better than golf.

Here's to the year of the Black Water Dragon!

This is not a Sinulog costume, but pwede na with Mochi as the Santo Nino Palaboy.
Taken in Bacolod, I think this is from the MassKara festival.

I always dread Sinulog festivities in Cebu since the crowd swelled up over the years and we need to secure passes just to watch the street dancing 'properly'.  I usually stay home and watch the dancers on TV, since it is a pain in the patootie to cross over to the North side of town without getting bungled in traffic.  Well, not today.  We headed out for a day in the pool down south.  No traffic.  The best part is, we had the pool all to ourselves under overcast skies with occasional filtered sunlight.

I couldn't figure out why we see a lot of people walking on the streets when they could get a ride.  It's like a big Mission Fair (like we had in school before).  People in headgear, costumes, tattoos, bringing food baskets like they're off to a big picnic in Scarborough Fair.  I know it's crazy.  We even passed by Kawit Island with the Ferris Wheel and rides set-up inside the stone walls.  Reminds me of Coney Island in New York.

Gone were the days of the simplicity of hosting Sinulog in Cebu, where we could just point our manual cameras and shoot up close on the dancers in the street. These days, Sinulog is just a trying hard copycat of the famous festivals in other parts of the world. The Mardi Gras in Brazil comes to mind, and I love how media tries to clarify that Sinulog is not Mardi Gras (but trying to be one). Oh, puhleez!

Well, we did something new this year.  Mochi and I signed up for Canon's Photoskwela wherein we attended a workshop by top fashion photographer, Sara Black.  Mochi took down notes on his palm pilot.  Mochi's attention span wasn't of the telephoto kind, so we had to excuse ourselves and roam around the vicinity while listening to the talk over the speakers, occasionally, popping up to watch the demo shoot.

We had our camera lens and body cleaned for free while we waited.  It kept Mochi preoccupied for awhile.  We went back to our seats and it was time for the raffle draw.  I wanted the lens mug!  The person in front of me got it instead.  I had to formulate some sort of question at the end of the workshop so we can get a Canon cap for free.  Sucker for freebies!  It was fun.  At least, I survived with a toddler in tow.

Mochi was already cranky since I promised him the slide at the mall's play area.  I forgot that it was already weekend and we had to present a receipt of P500.00 worth of purchase to get in the play area for free.  Normally, it is free on weekdays.

I had to keep my word since Mochi has been anticipating the slide and it was my fault for that receipt oversight.  It is not advisable to reason out with a toddler, so I purchased groceries instead.

I need not contemplate more on going to the gym.  I had my hour's worth of workout climbing up and down the stairs on the slide to accompany Mochi.  The attendant asked me how old Mochi was.  I had to slowly say that he's over two (with the minimum age required to play inside is three).  The attendant asked me if he just turned two or going to three.  Oh boy, I just had to fib a bit and say that he just turned two.

I thought that we will be sent off with the age discrepancy but instead, the attendant wowed that Mochi is such a brave kid for having the guts to slide down from a very high point, all by himself, when in fact the other three-year-olds still cling on to their mommies, afraid of going down the long and winding slide.  Still, I had to go up there with him just to make sure he doesn't attempt to fly like Buzz Lightyear.  Okay, I wanted to clarify that he's not yet two but I'm not pushing it.

It is better not to expose Mochi with a lot of fears at an early age, instead, encourage him to go for anything worth his lot.  With this in mind, I'm also keeping my fears in check.

One of these Sinulogs, when Mochi is ready, we will do the dawn walk over to the Basilica without getting trampled.  We'll be prepared.

Pit Senyor!

mumeee! dance baby jesus!

hey mochi, where's the crystal on his crown?

Last night's conversation about the butanding (whale shark) turned into a disaster.  It somehow ended when my friend asked for my blessing.  All I could say was, O bless bless bless, out of irritation.  I went to bed exasperated and thought about not properly blessing my friend.

This morning, I pored over the papers and found an article about blessings by Rev. Fr. Benjamin Sim, SJ.  It goes:

In 1979, archeologists digging outside Jerusalem stumbled upon a cave filled with jars, oil lamps, and jewelry.  These objects, they discovered later had been placed in the cave nearly 600 years before the birth of Jesus.

One piece of jewelry in particular caught their attention.  It was a tiny silver scroll no bigger than a child's little finger.  When a Jewish scholar translated the words on the scroll, he could hardly believe his eyes.  They were the words of a blessing that is still used today in synagogues and churches around the world.  They were the words of the beautiful blessing we find in today's first reading:

"The Lord bless you and keep you!
The Lord let his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you!
The Lord look upon you kindly and give you peace!"

The bible talks about blessing in four different ways.

God blessing people.  Thus God blesses Adam and Eve with, "Be fruitful and multiply."

People blessing God.  Thus St. Paul says to the Christians of Ephesus, "Blessed be the Fod who had blessed us."

People blessing people.  Thus Isaac blesses his son, Jacob, after eating the meat prepared by his wife, Rebekah, “And may the Lord give you of the dew of the heavens and [of] the fatness of the earth and an abundance of corn and wine. Nations shall serve you and kingdoms shall bow down to you; you shall be a master over your brothers, and your mother's sons shall bow down to you. Those who curse you shall be cursed, and those who bless you shall be blessed!”

People blessing things.  Thus, Jesus blesses bread, "Take, eat; This is my body."

In order to set my morning right, I messaged my friend the abovementioned blessing.  I harbor no hard feelings when I cancelled my trip to go watch the butanding down south.  First of all, I invited myself only to retract at the last minute because I didn't feel like it with the heavy rains,and at 2am, I just wanted to get some sleep.  I told my friend to go on without me even though we previously agreed that we go see the butanding together for the first time.  Somehow, my friend didn't want to go see the butanding after our heavy arguement on why I wanted to bail out, so my blessing was needed to set things in their order.

I got a reply saying that the butanding trip has been cancelled due to the incessant rain.  Butanding blessing, I must say.

I took out a book from the shelf given to me by my cousin eight years ago.  It speaks of the cry of a man named Jabez, who is still remembered not for what he did, but for what he prayed, his prayer for blessing---and for what happened next.  I challenge you to pray this every day for a week and see what happens.

And Jabez called on the God of Israel saying,
"Oh, that You would bless me indeed,
and enlarge my territory,
that Your hand would be with me,
and that You would keep me from evil,
that I may not cause pain!"
So God granted him what he requested.
1 Chronicles 4:10

A Scottish blessing of the New Year asks:

"Bless this day, never granted me before.
It is to bless your presence that you have given me this time, O God.
Bless my eyes, may they bless all they see.
I will bless my neighbor, may my neighbor bless me."

On Christmas morning, I gathered everyone's presents on the coffee table in the living room.  While we waited for everyone to arrive, Mochi started singing Happy Birthday.

I laughed and told Mochi that it's not his birthday yet since it's still Christmas.

I paused.  Wait, he's right.  We should be singing Happy Birthday, Jesus!  I couldn't explain to him why we give each other gifts when it's not our birthdays yet.  I will reserve the explanation when he really asks for the deeper meaning of Christmas.  How deep can it get?  Let's just plug in the three kings or Santa for the gift-giving part.

Meanwhile, we were in the mall on Christmas Eve buying dog food and Ham blurted out that he hasn't gotten me any Christmas present yet.  He told me to pick anything I want within P350.00.  I looked at him and laughed.  He said, Manito Manita.  Really? I didn't know we had Manito Manita this year.  I told him never mind to get me any presents, though a DSLR would be nice. Hah!

Seriously, I breathed a sigh of relief that we didn't get as much material presents this year.  Less things to worry about.  Finally, I opened Ham's present and was happy with two hanging pots for my plants plus two packets of seeds.  Just what I need!  He just knows what I'm crazy about lately.

Mad: No wonder you were gone at the check out counter.  You got the pots on the other side of the store.

Ham : Yeah, I had to buy something in there.

Mad: Oh good thing nawala ka.  I got you a pair of screwdrivers at the check out counter for our exchange gift worth P350.00!  Taysa, what did we get Mochi ba?

Ham : Wala.

Mad: On second thought, let's not encourage him to expect presents every Christmas.

I gave in to Mother's invitation to accompany her to a Christmas party with her old friends, actually, my late Dad's friends.  This year's venue was a bit on the budget side.  No frills decoration, but just blaring disco Christmas songs...and no lechon

As always, we arrived early and found ourselves waiting for others to slowly show up, filling our round table.  Each person, be it adult or child, has some sort of gadget in front of them, with matching stands.  What on earth is this?  An internet cafe?

Whooweee! A virtual Christmas party it is!  I admit to being anti-social but this is the epitome of modern socialization.  The easier it is to communicate with the use of technology, the harder it is to communicate up front.

To hell with technology, I joined in the bandwagon and whipped up my paper crossword puzzle just to relax my brain after a hectic day.  It was their turn to stare.

On a recent visit to my aunt's shop, I couldn't help but notice the handmade signage posted in front of the counter.

Sorry po... No Solicitation, Carolings, Donations.
"Wishing You a Year!"

Exactly, my sentiments, Mrs. Scrooge!  I gather it's not only for Christmas season but the whole year round.  .

Whatever happened to singing Christmas carols for the spirit of it?  It's quite annoying to have to listen to hastily sung carols in order to wring out a few centavos or pesos from one's pockets, and to hear complaints from the carollers that what they got isn't enough.

It's not only on Christmas that carollers approach you.  Even on All Souls' Day, these carollers cajole you into giving them tips for making you feel closer to your dearly departed loved ones.  They should be called cajollers instead of carollers.  I know, we're not obliged to give, but...

Solicitations for Christmas parties.  I wonder if it's only a Pinoy thing?

Donations remind me of a Santa-clad guy ringing a bell beside an empty pot hanging by a Salvation Army signage in the cold of winter.  They're especially stationed right outside the department stores, making one feel guilty for doing a lot of Christmas shopping and not stopping by to shell out a few bucks for the needy.

I don't know if it's age catching up on me?  Every year, I find it meaningless to wrap presents for people who don't really mean much to me but I'm obliged to give.  Every year, I go through the process of telling myself that it's time to break this tradition but end up getting everyone gifts because of the spirit of giving on Christmas and the thought of making someone happy when they receive something.

Somehow, most people don't get the concept of spending time as a gift.  It has to be something tangible so they could put some value to it. And think of all the wasted wrappers one has to rip open and discard. I admit, I still practice recycling gift wrappers, ribbons and gift bags. It's the thought that counts.

popi to kwan yin for typhoon sendong victims

I love how December light filters through the clerestory windows each morning, coaxing the chandelier crystals awake as they burst into a galaxy of sparkles.  I pause for a minute to marvel at the magic before making breakfast for everyone.

Every first week of December, I usually have the chandelier cleaned.  How many men does it take to clean the chandelier?  One, but it takes two to assemble the scaffolds, so they just buff the crystals together.

My almost two-year-old Mochi has some sense in pointing out the stars on the ceiling telling us how the moon (actually, the sun) outside lights them up.  We took this opportunity to show him how reflection works by shaking the sequinned pillow against the sunlight.  Bursts of little sparkles dance across the floor.

Wow! Mochi exclaimed.  Again, Daddy!

I can't think of any other title for this blog or what to call this drink I made today but---Last Day. 

Days have strangely moved in a lucid, fast-forward pace and no matter how I try to keep up, they just flow.  One minute I was in the garden amongst the plants, pulling out weeds and the next hour or so, I find myself rethinking what other things was I supposed to do.  All that lingers is the delicateness of the weeds on my fingertips as I pull each one out while the cloudy skies watched over me.

I so badly wanted to go to the rainforest in Indonesia, I told Ham.  What's it called?

You mean the Kalimantan Rainforest?, Ham replied.  Mag-unsa ka didto?  Magpapaak ug dagko kaayong lamok?

Oh yeah, it skipped my mind that there are actually mosquitoes in the rainforest.  I can't think of any Philippine rainforest to visit (do we still have rainforests in the Philippines or is it mostly manmade forest? I will have to find out) and the Amazon is too far away.  I so badly want to inhale the richness of whatever plants living in that rainforest.  I want to breathe plant fart, if there's such term.  Kung pwede, I can just stare at the plants without having to see people.  My God, what kind of reality is this?

You tell me what on earth is going on. I recently came from a trip and checked in 5 kilos of vermiculture soil.  I could have used up the entire 15 kilos baggage allowance but I still had some sense in restraining myself to bring home soil as pasalubong.

From the garden, I went inside the kitchen and scoured for something to drink.  I wanted to replicate the Davao Punch but didn't have the ingredients.  All I found were ripe fruits so I took out the blender and threw in camias, mango, banana, mint leaves and kamunggay leaves, a bit of water and honey to taste.  I wanted to call it Harvest but somehow, I just felt like calling it Last Day.

On the side, what is the Davao Punch all about? Remember Mayor Sarah's punching incident last July 2011? Well, the city of Davao decided to promote a local concoction made from ingredients that's abundant all year round namely pomelo, calamansi and guava, created by Chef Rhea. I love the punch line... "FLY TO DAVAO AND WE WILL WELCOME YOU WITH A GOOD PUNCH!"

Well, I'm too sleepy to write about the Last Day but I went through it and I think I can survive, for tomorrow is the First Day.

Good night.

I was already asleep tonight when I suddenly woke up and went outside to watch the lunar eclipse.  The sky was lovely with stars scattered all over and the distant moon seemed nearer.  I haven't seen this kind of clarity for so long since it has been raining everyday.  In honor of this occasion, I munched on a halfmoon from bongbong's delicacy. Okay, I ate two pieces of halfmoons. Does it become a full moon?

As a kid, I got bitten by the collection bug.  Stamps, coins, stickers, stationery, pens, books, journals, hats, stones, buttons, sea shells, watches, to name a few.  The last decade, however, I tried my very best to detoxify my system from accumulating a lot of stuff and just simplify to the point of losing my identity.

Let's face it.  These things remind me of how I lived my life.  I'm a tactile person.  I don't store things in my head.  I have to look at objects or photographs to remind me of some event in my life.  It's not about collecting for the sake of having, I guess it's different from hoarding.  Each piece tells a story.

The thing is, I have to deal with clutter, plus living with other people's clutter.  Ugh!

Now that I have a son, I'm starting to prune and weed out his stuff, hoping to control future clutter.  One thing my parents fail to promote is to control clutter.  It's like weed abatement.  They don't really like throwing things out, even the useless ones.  So imagine the things I have to deal with everyday living in an old house with a lot of memorabilia.

Sometimes, I'm glad there are these things because of their history.  Other times, I just want to throw everything out to lighten the sense of burden.  I know of people who sold their possessions and just go travel all over the world. It is liberating. I don't know, but at the end of the day, I just want to have a place to come home to and have some meaningful things around me.  Some sort of inanimate comfort.  I try my best to be detached about these things.  They're just here so I can talk to my son about some distant past in our lives.  Sort of show and tell in a mini museum.

Oh yes, when we die, we can't really take all these things with us.  That's why they're here for us to enjoy while we can.

How do you remember where you put all your things? A friend asked me yesterday, while checking out my stuff.  I don't.  I used to have photographic memory but it's the digital age and I still have to expand my storage capacity.  Seriously, I do remember I put it somewhere but it takes awhile to recall where I exactly put it, since I keep on moving things around.  It also depends on the frequency of use.  I don't want to be too organized and in control.

Last night, I looked at the humongous pile of picture boxes by the wall.  It has grown  like some living organism.  They're actually empty Cerelac boxes from Mochi's breakfasts this year. It has become one of my recent collections, these empty boxes. Blame it on the garbage segregation, but it's a good thing I made something out of it.

I know that one of these days, Mochi won't have Cerelac with oatmeal for breakfast anymore.  So the memory stays.  Out of thousands of digital photos I take of Mochi, I printed out highlights just to fit the number of boxes available.  They're mostly photos of Mochi's trips and of people he's been with.  It beats having to take out photo albums (which I haven't done any yet) and it makes a great conversation piece.

I take one last look at the wall of photos before hitting the sack, it needs to be rearranged.  Why don't I pile it up like a Christmas tree?  Yeah, I did that and thought about putting up ornaments on the side.  I'd like some toy soldiers from the Nutcracker!

So there I was glueing the printout of the toy soldiers (www.pecuniarities.com) on to the toilet paper roll this afternoon.  Did I mention I also collect toilet paper rolls?  Mother was tempted to donate a large trashbag of toilet paper rolls to charity.  After all these years, I finally did something about them!  Maybe I can finally donate the rest of the rolls.  The picture Christmas tree needs one more photo to top off the tree. I'm thinking of capping it with a star.  It 22 days before Christmas, so I still have time to finish it. For now, I'm going back to bed with the Nutcracker suite looping in my head.

One of those rainy days, Mochi came up to my desk and asked to borrow my pens.

He proceeded to scribble something on a small piece of scrap paper.

What's that? I asked.

Rain, he replied.

Oh, since when did he want to capture rain?

I tucked that small piece of paper in my planner and forgot all about it.

At the back of my mind, I want to do painting with Mochi, just to see how he percieves art.

I'm still looking for a place where we can just mess up

without being OC about cleaning up afterwards.

In the meantime, we're content with painting our toe nails.

Uncle Pope came over the other day and had a chat with Mochi.  He asked me if Mochi can already talk.  Sure, he can count from 1 to 10 in ten languages, I replied.  Uncle Pope thought I was kidding, then he turned to Mochi, count 1 to 10 in French beh.

Un, deux, trois...dix.

Uncle Pope gave a puzzled look.  What about in Spanish?

Uno, dos, tres...diez.

Would you like to hear it in Bisaya? I offered.  By then we were all laughing.  Mad, you should teach him Hello and Good Morning in different languages as well, Uncle Pope kidded.  Oh he'll definitely be a call center agent when he grows up, I laughed.

Mochi, Uncle Pope will teach you Buon Giorno, that's Good Morning in Italian.  Say, Buon Giorno, he instructed Mochi.  Mochi mimicked the flamboyant pronunciation.  I can hear Ham's side comments, dah makat-on jud nig binayot si Mochi ay.  *sigh* at least he's exposed to different types of people, you know.

Uncle Pope was elated.  At least I contributed to Mochi's education, he added.

I realize the different things we teach our kids at an early age when my Sis came to visit.  She's more of the nursery rhymes and kiddie play while I'm more of the practical stuff.  I'm not a numbers buff and I have this dislike for numbers but I found myself teaching Mochi about numbers, hoping he will develop a love for numbers.  I see numbers as images, that's what Ham doesn't understand.

Most people think that I'm so strict with Mochi. They probably think that I have a rigid schedule for his 'schooling'. Nah. I only inject these numbers when he's relaxed and attentive, like bed time. Otherwise, he cannot sit still.

Meanwhile, I had nothing better to do than write a chart of numbers from 1 to 10 in different languages. Actually, it's for me to study so I can teach Mochi from memory. With over 5000 languages to choose from, my brain went numb.  To take a break from teaching numbers, I went bleep.  What else to teach him now?

Hey, Mooch, Mummy will teach you to pray Hail Mary in Latin okay?

Okay! Mochi smiled.  Oremus: Ave Maria...

It's 2am and I cannot sleep.

I miss travelling.

I think of Manang Carling.  I remember that morning, three years ago, when I was about to leave Vigan.  I bade farewell to the staff of Villa Angela, where I stayed.

Wait, I told Manang Carling, who was standing by the garden.  I ran back inside the makeshift office with a little library and took out a coffee table book, Vigan Album by Esperanza B. Gatbonton.  I hurriedly flipped over the pages and landed in one of the pages where a lady was setting a bowl of fruits on the breakfast table.

Ikaw? I asked her as I pointed to the lady with a period costume on the photograph.  Manang Carling took a closer look at the photograph, chuckled and confirmed that it was her indeed.  She remembered that photoshoot but did not know that it was for a book publication.  Well, you're a celebrity now! I kidded her as we pose for a parting shot.

Somehow, I feel comfortable among strangers.

I miss travelling.  Wandering.

Coloured

When I was born, I was black.
When I grew up, I was black.
When I get hot, I am black.
When I get cold, I am black.
When I am sick, I am black.
When I die, I am black.

When you were born, You were pink.
When you grew up, You were white.
When you get hot, You go red.
When you get cold, You go blue.
When you are sick, You go purple.
When you die, You go green.

AND YET YOU HAVE THE CHEEK TO CALL ME COLOURED!!!

by an Anonymous pupil of King Edward VI School, Birmingham, UK.

Found in The children's book of poems, prayers and meditations
ed. Liz Attenborough (Element Books, 1989)