20.07.2007

As the SIF-ASEAN Student Fellowship I attended in 2002 came to an end, the Fellows agreed on a pact to meet again in Singapore five years after. The date, 20th July 2007. In short: 20.07.2007.

At first, I thought it wasn't a very good idea to have a reunion that soon. I reasoned some of us may still be studying then, or just finished college and are just starting to work. I thought it might be better to wait for our 10th year. That way, we'd all be established in our respective careers and better disposed to covering the expenses for the reunion. But it had already been agreed upon, so I shut up and just looked forward to that fateful day.

About a year ago, my Kabayans and I thought of jump starting the preparation for the reunion. We wanted to make sure more people can go, so we thought of ways to maybe market money and subsidize the lodging and transportation costs. However, most of us were busy with our jobs and whatever plans we eventually fell through.

Early this year, the Fellows started talking about the upcoming reunion. Talks of holding the reunion in Genting Highlands in Malaysia, but we eventually decided on holding it in Singapore. Always, the priority being making it convenient for the most number of people.

I was so excited. There were even requests from some of the Fellows for me to bring the old video that I made so we can view it again in the reunion. While burning a DVD copy of that video, I thought, why not make another one? I had more than 10 hours worth of footage from the Fellowship. Surely, there were lots of clips they haven't seen that they'd love to see. I kept putting it off because I was busy with work, and by the time I gathered the old tapes from the Fellowship so I can at long last start editing a new video, I only had a week left before the reunion.

Previewing the tapes took most time. I salvaged around six tapes, around 8 hours worth. Going through that wouldn't normally take that long since I can breeze through it by speeding the playback. But when you're reviewing footage that contained precious memories, you can't help but sit back and watch. Countless times, I laughed myself silly watching and reminiscing those days. Memories that have taken refuge at the back end of my mind suddenly came rushing to fore.

Two days before my flight to Singapore, I started editing this music video. I wanted it to be a fitting tribute to the 5th anniversary and first official reunion of the SIF-ASEAN Student Fellowship Batch 2002. Back then, I had all the time in the world to make sure that the "Seasons of Love" music video I was preparing came out exactly as I intended it to be. I was able to make sure all the important events that were caught on tape edited into the final cut. I made sure all the Fellows had a few seconds of exposure. With only two days left, I just didn't have that same luxury anymore. I worked for two days, rushing to make sure I made it to the reunion. I finished at 5.30AM on July 21, and I had to dash to the airport by 6AM if I were to make my 8AM flight (I got to the airport at 6.30AM, almost didn't make it!).

When I got to Singapore, the Fellows were engaged in the Singapore Heritage Race, fashioned after the Amazing Race. Some of the Fellows arrived earlier than the agreed upon date, and have had their fill of Singapore. I didn't want to go to Su Lynn's house (our generous Singaporean host) by myself, so I decided to do my shopping at Orchard. I went to the spots I frequented back when I was still studying in the Lion Cit: Kinokuniya, Borders, Raffles City, Citylink Mall.

It was already evening when I finally met up with the Fellows. I got to Vivo City (the spanking new mall at Habour Front) a little past 9PM. I felt a little nervous as I walked toward the restaurant... I didn't know what to expect. When entered Marcher, I was awashed with delight to see so many Fellows in one place, and so many whom I haven't seen for a very long time. Duong (who came with his girlfriend, Phuong), Lum, Cynthia, Vippy, Danny, Joel, Ivy, Man, Ben, Hang, OPS, Jeffrey, Dat, Su Lynn, and my Kabayans, Duke, Richard, Kenneth and Natz. Of course, Gerald was reliably there to shepherd his erstwhile flock, all of us now older though not necessarily grown up ;) The very pregnant Claudia arrived a few moments later with her husband and our adopted batchmate Kevin.

I had so much fun catching up and goofing around with the Fellows. The faux-marketplace theme of Marcher added to the festive atmosphere. One might think it wasn't much of a reunion considering we didn't even reach half of our batch's total number, but gathering 22 people at one place is no mean feat. And having that many number of people sitting together to honor and commemorate an experience that we all hold dearly in our hearts is just overwhelming. Euphoric.

We went to Fong Seng, one of our former hang outs during our Fellowship days located at the outskirts of NUH. We continued to exchange updates over roti prata and teh tarik. We relayed news about our other Kabayans who couldn't make it, learned who among them just recently tied the knot, became parents or are expecting, relocated, and graduated. What they're doing and how fat their paychecks are now. We also exchanging contact details. Riza joined us at Fong Seng, bringing our number to 23.

After long drawn goodbyes to those who had to go home because of other obligations (Joel, Kevin, Claudia, and Vippy had to go home, Cynthia had an early flight the following morning), we went to Su Lynn's house. We nestled in the basement and feasted on the snacks we brought from our respective countries. Someone took out a bottle of vodka, but no one seemed brave enough to initiate the drinking. It seemed like only a few of us were genuinely excited about the vodka.

They clamored for the long awaited viewing of the Seasons of Love video. Riza preempted my surprise a bit when he asked if I was showing a new one. We set up the laptop and waxed nostalgic as we watch that old video projected onto the expansive white wall of Su Lynn's basement. It's like viewing it again for the first time the way everyone laughed and cheered as familiar clips were played.

Then, I took out the other DVD I brought and played the video I recently edited, the one I almost didn't finish in time. Unlike the previous one, we watched this new video more solemnly. Perhaps it was because it was fresh to them, because of the new clips I included in it. Or maybe it was because it included clips of our parting, footage of fellows crying as we said our goodbyes five years ago. I've always loved the song "Your Home Is In My Heart" by Boyz II Men, from the soundtrack of the movie "How Stella Got Her Groove Back." Over the years, I never got the chance to make use of it. I finally did with this new video.

I relished the irony of being in Singapore, reunited five years after, huddled as we watched our younger selves crying, waving our hands as we bade farewell and depressed at the probability of never seeing each other again. It's like we were spitting on the notion of goodbye.

Warmed up, we finally mustered enough courage to tipple the vodka. After offering Gerald the ceremonial first sip, we started passing around the shot glass. At first, it was just OPS, Man, Kenneth, Lum, Dat, Duke and Richard who were game. Due to our insistence, we eventually managed to bring most of the others into the circle. Dat intiated drinking games which we initially thought too corny but went along with anyway. We finished the entire first bottle before long.

Late in the evening, we succeeded in bringing everyone in our drinking games. Su Lynn generously offered us another bottle of vodka from her father's bar. She also brought left over chicken to add to the the junk we've been feasting on. We had a blast! Especially when Dat kept losing most rounds of the games he's supposed to be the master of :) Even Riza whose religion disallowed him from downing the penalty vodka shot (he drank water intead, though he still seemed drunker than most by the time we finished). Duong fell asleep early in the game, clearly unused to the drinking. Others who we were initially reluctant were unable to resist our prodding. Even Duke who was scheduled to fly out in a few hours got wasted a bit more than he intended.

We were all drunk or tipsy when we finally retired. We took our places on Su Lynn's vodka stained carpet (sorry again, Su Lynn) and started snoring.

When I woke up the next day, we had gathered at the poolside to chat. As they took orders for their lunch, I said a temporary goodbye to head off to Orchard and change since I didn't have time to bring extra clothes the previous night. After a quick shower, however, I dozed off and woke up late in the afternoon. I learned that most of the Fellows have left by then. And that was that, an abrupt end to a surprisingly wild but sentimental weekend.

This is a new, re-edited cut of the video, with some footage that were not included in the version I premiered during the reunion drinking session. Five months in Singapore summed up in a five-minute song to celebrate five years of friendship.



The footage may be rusty and dated, but the sentiments remain as fresh as ever.

Now looking forward to our revitalized pact to meet again in three years: 20th October 2010. In short...

Fire And Rain: The Weekend I Flew To Bohol

When I missed my scheduled flight to Tagbilaran last Holy Week, I made a vow that I will make it to Bohol within the year. I’ve been meaning to go back for so long. After all, the last time I was there was in 1997. My mom treated me and my two high school best friends, Ronald and Jayson, to a trip to Cebu. We stayed at the Plantation Bay Hotel in Mactan Island, though the primary agenda of that trip was for me to see this small beach front property my mom bought the previous year (which she eventually sold).

It was very memorable as it was my first time to fly with friends, my first time to go on vacation with friends outside Luzon. We had a blast exploring Cebu (we saw the Magellan Cross, Fort San Pedro, and went to this spot overlooking the Queen City), and Bohol (we saw a cave and made a quick trip to, where else, the Chocolate Hills).

Bohol had since developed into the major tourist destination that it is now. The Chocolate Hills had always been a draw, but after the Bohol Beach Club opened, its popularity was bolstered, consequently reintroducing the island as a beach destination rivaling Boracay and Cebu. Soon after, it also started gaining reputation as a premiere dive spot.

I finally got my wish to revisit Bohol last month, when I accompanied my friend Jean on her birthday vacation. We went with her friends Cris and Poch who, like her, have recently taken up diving as a sport and were raring to see the bounty of Bohol’s marine life. Before going there, I checked out Laida's pictures and took note of the places she went to. Particularly, the Bohol Bee Farm. Skeeter also told me to make sure I ate at the place.

Jean, Poch and I arrived in Tagbilaran on July 14, a little before lunch. This was after our flight was delayed for three hours. Normally, I wouldn’t have any problem sleeping on the uncomfortable seats of the old domestic airport’s waiting area. I am, after all, particularly talented in sleeping anywhere. Seeing, however, that the airport was heaving with vacationers that Saturday, I decided to read instead.

Since I didn’t sleep the night before, as common to most of my travels, I was just about ready to expire when we arrived at the Dumaluan Beach Resort a little before noon. We blew off the couple of hours of waiting by playing cards and having lunch (overpriced and remarkably insipid). When we were finally allowed into our rooms, I settled in by catching up on sleep.

The sun was gone when Jean woke me up. I joined them at Dumaluan’s in-house restaurant where Poch and Cris, who arrived from Cebu in the afternoon, were waiting. After dining on grilled food, Cris and Poch had a few rounds of beer while Jean and I had coffee at the Bohol Beach Club. When we got back to the resort, Cris and Poch had gone to bed. Jean, too, was tired so she left me alone with my book at the resort's reception area and hit the sack.

It was close to midnight when I finished reading. I was still bubbling with energy, so I decided to check out the party at the rooftop. It seemed exclusive so I turned to go back when this group of friendly manongs called out to me and asked me to take a shot of the alcohol they were drinking. I gladly obliged. Soon, I was part of their circle, drinking more of the bahalina, which, mixed with Coke, comes off as a dark-colored version of lambanog (coconut wine) more akin to red wine or vinegar, as lambanog is to vodka. I was drawn into a spirited exchange. I with anecdotes on writing movies, they with their politics, the Sandugo Festival, and the famous Boholanos in show business.

Suddenly, a group of Koreans staying at the Bohol Beach Club started screaming. We looked toward the direction they were pointing and saw the nipa roof of the Bohol Beach Club Clubhouse in flames. My newfound friends scrambled to rouse the resort's guards from sleep. I ran toward the clubhouse to see how I could help.

Some of the resort's employees had started hand-shoveling sand to the burning roof. I told them to look for fire extinguishers, realizing that none of them thought of that first. When they found them, they were all reluctant to use it, as if taking it from its encasement was sacrilegious enough. One of the manongs I was drinking with (forgive me, I forget their names) climbed on to the wall and made use of the extinguisher.

The fire was growing bigger. While the fire extinguisher helped quell some of it, the gust of wind that came with the discharge also spread the fire all over the highly flammable nipa roof. I was looking for more extinguishers when I saw the fire hose at the back. I opened it and asked one of the employees to take the hose all the way to the side nearest to the burning roof. When I turned the valve, it had no supply of water. I noticed that the pool was just a few meters away, so I told them to fetch pails and draw water from the pool. Someone took heed and got a chafing dish from the clubhouse's buffet table. The others followed suit and started fetching water from the pool, using all sorts of improvised containers, and splashing water on the nipa roof.

It still wasn’t helping. I asked if they've contacted the fire department. They said that the one in Panglao has been dispatched. I used my mobile to call 117. I was afraid the operator would hang up on me considering our emergency wasn’t in Manila, but he accommodated the call and asked for details. After I hung up, he even called me again to confirm that they've contacted other fire departments, including the one from Tagbilaran. I also texted Adrian Ayalin and Anna Puod, my friends from ABS-CBN News. Puod responded and vehemently asked me to stay at the beach where I'd be near the water. She said she's covered so many stories involving fires and people who tried to go back in and got trapped inside.

Then a truck with a water tank mounted on its back came rushing in from the beach club’s side entrance. We were relieved. Curiously, though, it continued toward the beach in an apparent road rage. I thought, perhaps they needed to siphon water from the beach. A few meters before plunging to the ocean, it got stuck on the dry edge of the sandy shore. When we asked the driver that was all about, we found out that the truck’s brakes failed. Stuck, we left the truck full of water by the beach, too far from the clubhouse to render any kind of help.

Finally, the fire trucks arrived. They hosed the burning roof down but the fire was already out of control. The ceiling beams started glowing red, threatening to give out. Two resort employees decided to break into the kitchen where the fire seemed to have started. He started dragging out the huge gas tanks inside. I told them to let the firemen take care of it, that the kitchen might cave in and trap them inside, but they were stubborn. Either that or they didn’t understand my Tagalog. Since they wouldn’t listen to reason, I told them to at least cover their mouths and noses with damp cloth lest they pass out inside the burning kitchen. They continued collecting the huge gas tanks. I knew it was stupid to go in with them, so I decided to wait by the kitchen door and dragged the tanks they've collected further away to a safer area, hoping to hasten the process as they proceeded to saving the other tanks.

This went on for a few more hours. The firemen contained the blaze though much damage had already been done.

What I found most curious is that the firemen let those employees risk their lives by going into the kitchen when they should be taking charge of the whole situation. One of them even approached me and asked if all the tanks had been saved (to which I answered yes, since at that time, the two valiant employees had hauled off all the gas tanks from the kitchen). Thankfully, there weren't any casualties. And good thing Jean and I had the chance to lounge around the clubhouse before it was rendered unusable by the inferno.









Having had enough adventure to last me a week, I decided to skip the scheduled trip to Balicasag, an island off Panglao. Jean, Cris and Poch went scuba diving morning 'til afternoon. When I woke up, they were preparing to go Tagbilaran to grant my request to go to Mass. We went to the Cathedral in front of the Bohol Capitol. Though I didn't understand a word of the ceremony, I thought it was a refreshing experience. I always enjoy hearing mass in local dialects (I've also heard it in Bicol and Cuyunon).

We had dinner at a grill restaurant and a night cap at Bo's Coffee, still near the capitol. We then rented a small jeep that took us back to the resort.

It was Jean's birthday the next day, Monday, July 16. We woke up really early so we could finish our sweep of the customary tourist sights in Bohol.

After a quick breakfast at Jollibee in Tagbilaran, we headed to Carmen to see the Chocolate Hills. It hasn't changed since the last time I saw it, so it wasn't that cool for me as it was for my travel buddies. I was, however, amused by the recent innovation at the viewing deck. There were photographers stationed there, hawking their services and printing photos for the exorbitant amount of PhP50 per 4R photo. We had our own cameras of course, but what amused me was that they were so adept in taking a particular kind of photo. Try hard as we might, we just couldn't get it right. We ended up asking the photographer to take our pictures. This is how mine came out:

The weekend I flew to Bohol to see the Chocolate Hills.

Soon as we got out of the viewing compound in Carmen, it started raining hard. We passed by the beautiful man-made forest shared by the towns Carmen and Bilar. We pulled over to take a quick picture with the beautiful mahoganies, then went on our way. We stopped by Carmen to see a hanging bridge suspended over the Loboc River, but decided to keep dry in our rented SUV and go straight to Loboc for lunch.

It was still raining when we hopped on the floating restaurant at the Loboc River. But instead of ruining our cruise upstream, the rain actually enhanced our experience at the beautiful, historic river. The view seemed more raw, more virginal. It was, to me, the best thing about Bohol.


There was an old man playing folk songs on the boat. The food was nothing to rave about, but then the food was really just an excuse to ride the boat. On our way upstream, we would pass by some kids playing by the riverbanks. Some of them would even jump from coconut trees or swing from a vine and free fall into the river, much like the WOW Philippines commercial that featured Regine Velasquez and those animated postcards. Some of these kids would even swim toward, our under our boat. Some went on board at the side. Without being asked, the tourists handed out food to the kids.

Our upstream cruise ends at the base of the rapids, where a rondalla-like band composed of adolescent Boholanos welcomed us by playing novelty songs, complete with dance numbers pa! The tourists took turns taking pictures with them and donating different amounts of money to their can. It was such an uplifting experience that on our way back, the tourists on our boat were all in a genial mood, waving to other tourists on board the oncoming floating restaurants.

After the Loboc River cruise, we bought a few souvenirs and stopped by a shop that had tarsiers in its backyard. We had our photos taken. We were particularly careful not to scare the tarsier with our cameras' flashes. I voiced out my desire to have a photo with the tarsier on my shoulder. To my surprise, the shop's owner took the tarsier and asked me to walk a little further away from the plant it was previously perched on. She put the little guy on my shoulder. I realized she asked me to walk away so I that it wouldn't jump back to its home. I asked if I could have another picture with the tarsier, and she generously granted my request. And I thought they were protective of their primate ambassadors. Here's that last photo:


After that, we made a few quick stops to two churches, the Loboc Church and the Baclayon Church in Tagbilaran, the second oldest church in the Philippines and the oldest one made of coral. We passed by one last souvenir shop and had our photos taken at the monument at Tagbilaran commemorating the blood compact between Datu Sikatuna and Miguel López de Legazpi.

We intended to have dinner at the Bohol Bee Farm that evening, but I was exhausted by our lightning tour of Bohol. My quick nap lasted till midnight, while Jean, Cris and Poch spent the rest of the day playing cards. We left early Tuesday morning, July 17. It was a really fun trip, with just the right amount contrast, an ample mix of fun, culture, and surprise.

But I'll have to go back again. I've yet to go dine at the Bee Farm. And as proven by my last trip there, Bohol will always be worth another visit :)

Simpsonized!

I've always loved "The Simpsons." Its irreverence, its wit, everything! It's one of the few shows that never gets old. To me, at least. Just like "Friends" (as opposed to "Seinfeld" and "Sex and the City," both of which I enjoy watching as well).

I just watched the movie last night. I loved it, but also thought it could've been better.

This, on the other hand, is me getting Simpsonized!...




I know it doesn't look a lot like me. And that I cheated by putting on sunglasses.

This one may be closer. As a disclaimer, let me just say that it's really hard to be realistic with this when you're the one making your own avatar. It's tough choosing which eyes or hair best looks like yours. I can't tell if I'm really being accurate, or if I'm actually trying to improve my 2D version, haha!

This is the best I came up with --->

Five Years After

Next weekend, July 20, I'll be off to Singapore to fulfill a pact with 56 friends from all over Southeast Asia.

Five years ago, in Singapore, I attended a Student Fellowship program that brought together 2 Bruneians, 5 Cambodians, 9 Indonesians, 2 Laos, 5 Malaysians, 2 Myanmese, 12 Singaporeans, 5 Thais, 6 Vietnamese and 9 Pinoys. We spent five months in the Lion City, supposedly studying, but that was really just an excuse to be put on a regular stipend and have fun. Thanks to the generosity of the Singapore International Foundation (SIF).

One of the best-est friends I picked up from that Fellowship is Duong, a Vietnamese. He recently posted in his blog the speech I wrote and delivered during the ASEAN Nite, which is also the closing program. He even posted some of the pictures from the Fellowship (check out Duong's blog here).

I can't believe it's been five years! I can't wait to see all of these crazy guys again :)

Scratched

I woke up Tuesday afternoon unable to open my right eye. It was like it was glued shut, and all attempts to open it only caused more pain. I immediately suspected a scratch in my cornea. I went to the bathroom and rinsed my eye clean. I managed to open eventually and keeping it opened was just as painful as when it was closed. It was bloodshot but there was no visible scratch or infection. I was worried it might lead to further complication, especially since my dog, Mutt Li, almost lost his sight recently because of an infection in his right eye. Like master, like hound!

After a phone call to my Mom and tita, I had the driver bring me all the way to Muntinlupa (from my Quezon City home) for an appointment with my Mom's eye doctor. It was already 5:30 in the afternoon. I had to rush to make it by 6PM. Throughout the ride, I had to keep my eyes closed to ease the pain. Keeping only the right eye closed would've been enough, but having one eye abnormally closed and the other open, and sustaining it, only gave me a headache.

I met my mom at the lobby of the Muntinlupa Medical Center. Upon seeing me, she quickly offered her diagnosis. "Sore eyes lang yan!"

My Mom likes doing that, and it never fails to annoy me. Whenever I have a head ache, a muscle pain, or even a sprain, she has this habit of offering her services, proclaiming herself a good "hilot" and believing she can take the place of a legit chiropractor. I'd indulge her of course. I usually feel a little better, but the feeling of being pooh-poohed prevails. Then there are those times when she would offer me seafood, and I'd have to constantly remind her of my allergy. Her ready response would always be, "Unti-untiin mo kasi, kaya di nawawala yan e." Like it was that simple e, no? Like hives breaking out and constricting air passages were that easy to ignore.

As soon as we got to the doctor, my Mom told him about the pain in my eye. Of course, she also offered her personal assessment. "Sabi ko nga, sore eyes lang yan e." The doctor saying that it is indeed prevalent this season only encouraged her. When it finally occurred to them to ask me, the patient, I told him of how I woke up with the pain in my right eye, the redness that had subsided, and the persisting pain in my eye. He made me sit on this contraption and he looked at my eye up close.

After the check up, he said that there was indeed, a scratch in my eye. He put an ointment in my eye and asked me to keep it closed as he taped a bandage over it. I was to keep the eye patch on for 24 hours. He also prescribed two eye drops to be instilled for one week. I still don't know how I scratched my cornea in my sleep. I'm just glad it's nothing worse than a scratch. (Call me king of freak. Pus in my throat, hole in my shin, and now, a scratch in my eye! Typical Raz.)

Of course, like an itch that needed scratching, I wasn't able to resist the opportunity to tell my mom "I told you so." She graciously acknowledged her error in front of the doctor naman. "Tama lang pala talaga na pinilit niyang magpatingin, ano, doc?" Haha! Vindicated! That'll teach her not to downplay her son's complaints!

I've taken the eye patch off, and it's not as painful as it was the first day. No more cause for worry. I was just disappointed I was not made to wear the typical eye patch pirates wore. It would've been cool to have an excuse to go around town with one. Have that itch scratched. Haha!

Under The Knife (The Story Of My Tonsilectomy)

I remember when I was a child and I was confined in the hospital. My aunt rushed me to the emergency room after I started feeling pain at the side of my stomach. The doctors diagnosed me as a candidate for an appendectomy. I was put on dextrose and prepped for the operation. They prohibited me from eating anything, although I snuck an occasional cracker when no one was looking. Of course that only made things worse. When they found out, the nurses simply reset my fasting time back to zero, rendering useless the previous hours I have spent in hunger.

After almost two days of being starved, my dad arrived and talked to the doctor. He got into an argument and decided to check me out of the hospital, convinced I was in no need for any kind of operation. That proved to be a wise decision on my father's part. I still have my appendix now and it never did pose any kind of problem to my health after that.

I haven't been confined to the hospital since then. Until recently.

***

For quite some time, nights spent drinking and videoke-ing with my friends were capped by attacks of the flu. I've always believed it resulted from the bad combination of alcohol and my amateur singing. By the end of these parties, my throat would always be left feeling as if it's been mercilessly scratched. I took it as a tell tale sign of my flawed singing style, nothing more.

However, a few months ago, after drinking all night with my friends, I fell ill once again. I had a fever and my throat felt sore. I figured it was another bout with the flu. Thanks to an sms consultation with my doctor-friend (thanks, Ayees!), I got suggestions for medicine that could help. After a few days though, I had yet to fully recover. That's when I decided to go to St. Luke's Medical Center to have my throat personally checked.

(CRINGE ALERT HENCEFORTH!)
Dr. Jurilla, my doctor, checked my ears, nose and mouth. He said my pharynx was swollen and there was pus behind my left tonsil. He suspected that its recurrence was because of an over-abundance of streptococci bacteria in my throat. He diagnosed me with chronic pharyngitis then gave me a prescription for antibiotics and tips for prevention. The pain in my throat subsided after a week of medication, but just a little over a week after, I felt pain developing in my throat once again.

When I went went back to Dr. Jurilla for another check up, he was surprised, saying that the antibiotics should've kept me immuned from pharyngitis for another month. The fact that it recurred this soon could mean that the bacteria may not only be in my throat but in my bloodstream as well. He gave me a prescription for a week's worth of stronger antibiotics and requested for some blood tests.

Upon showing him the results a week after, his suspicions were confirmed. He said the CBC results were okay, but that there was indeed an extraordinarily high presence of streptococci in my blood. He suggested I seriously consider a tonsilectomy. Otherwise, I should expect continued pharyngitis attacks. Worse, it made me susceptible to urinary tract infections and rheumatic heart diseases. A particular vacation in Boracay back in 2003 suddenly came to mind. I was with my high school classmates when I started having problems peeing. If not for the canabis they brought, I don't think I would've survived. (The urinary tract problem didn't stop me from going on the banana boat, by the way. Fun before health!)

My mom wanted a second opinon on the matter, but I didn't need any more convincing. I got myself checked in at St. Luke's on April 20, a Friday. Sometime in the afternoon, a seminarian came over to pray with me. He assured me that someone was diligently, vigilantly offering prayers for me. He kept asking if I was nervous, and I said I wasn't. That made me stop and reevaluate my emotions, though. I honestly thought it was not big deal prior to that, but when a priest-to-be starts volunteering words of comfort, you can't help but think whether you should actually be worried.

Kai, Hiyas and Chrissie visited me that evening though it didn't look like there was anything wrong with me. Norman dropped by, too. They stayed till around midnight, just before the nurses put me on dextrose and asked me to fast on both solids and liquids.

The following morning, they woke me up at 8AM, made me strip naked under my patient's gown, and brought me to the operating room. Some nurses prepped me, checking my temperature, blood pressure and pulse rate, and asking me questions about possible allergies, among others. The anaesthesiologist came over and assured me I wouldn't feel anything because of the general anaesthesia.

After waiting for about an hour, they took me to the the room where the tonsilectomy was to be performed. The anaesthesiologist inserted a long stick through my nostrils. He mentioned how there seemed to be an obstruction inside, and I told him about my being diagnosed with a deviated septum. He then sprayed something to decongest my nasal passages and airway. Finally, they told me they're already putting me under general anaesthesia and put a mask on me. They asked me if I felt any kind of pain. There was a pinching sensation in my left arm, so I started pointing at it with my right hand...

Then I felt cold, and I was shivering uncontrollably. I heard faint sounds. Kind, reassuring voices. I realized the voices were talking to me. "Mr. de la Torre... Okay na po! Tapos na..." I opened my eyes and saw that I was back in the prep room. I had an oxygen mask on, and my throat felt sore. I had a difficult time breathing. But it was the shivering that affected me the most. One of the women attending to me brought heat pads and put it under me to help with the cold.

They were right. I didn't feel a thing. It was like a blip in time. Complete, total black out. I was in a dreamless sleep.

Back in the prep room, I caught up with the trauma my throat underwent. I had a difficult time breathing. I couldn't swallow my own saliva, which had started accumulating in my throat making it difficult for me to breathe. I tried to cough it out, but any kind of pressure on my throat was unbearable. It was painful, uncomfortable and frustrating. Not even the oxygen mask was helping me breathe anymore. I was close to choking, so I forced myself to expel the thick liquid in my throat. The nurse gave me tissue. When I spat on it, it was full of blood. It wasn't just saliva after all.

The next two days was full of pain, blood-spitting and extreme hunger. I had to cough out the blood that accumulated in my throat at least once every hour if I were to breathe easily. That meant I had to endure excruciating pain every time. Meanwhile, the doctor allowed me to eat vanilla ice cream a few hours after the operation, but even that wasn't smooth or cold enough for the wound in my throat. I eventually felt okay enough to eat the cold treat, but it did nothing for my hunger. If it werent for the dextrose, I would've probably died of malnourishment. I also couldn't speak as loud as before. I had separate visits from Jean and Chris, and Joni and Norman, and they all had to strain to understand what I said.

A priest came to give me communion the following day, Sunday. Oh, how I prayed to God to take away the pain!

I checked out two days after the operation, on a Monday morning. While recovering at home, I subsisted on a diet of ice cream, porridge and soups. I never felt hungrier in my life.

At least it's almost over now. It didn't seem to affect my voice. My uvula has reduced from its swollen size. I say it's almost over because my sense of taste remains distorted. Except when I'm eating something very sweet, everything I eat tastes like there's a missing ingredient. Nothing tastes like it should. Dr. Jurilla says everything will be back to normal in three months.

***

When I went back to my doctor for a follow up consultation, he said I was doing okay. He gladly told me that the results from the biopsy showed that the infection in my tonsils wasn't cancerous. I didn't even know I was at risk for cancer. It was only then that I realized that despite the simplicity of the operation, it was, in fact, a big deal. And to think I told my Mom I wouldn't mind if she went home and just left me with our helper. I'm glad she insisted on staying. Her exact words were, "Aba, e di na 'ko aalis dito!"

When I was a child and my dad fought with my doctor for almost giving me an appendectomy, I felt how protective he was of me. This time, my visit to the hospital became a rare bonding opportunity for me and my mom. Having spent most of her life in Italy, this was the first time my Mom got to accompany me in my hospital stay. And I did have a fair share of hospital visits growing up. My mom stayed with me throughout. She even endured sleeping on the small, barely-cushioned bench beside my bed. She later told me that after I said that I was sure I wanted the operation, she arranged for the operation to be held while she was in the country. My Mom wanted to be beside me when I went under the knife.

Despite everything I felt and went through, I actually enjoyed that episode of my life. I never really thought I'd hear me self say that, but I really did. After all, it's always good to feel loved and cared for by people you value.

Labada @ Cinekatipunan

This is rather late in the offing, but I'm posting it anyway.

LABADA ("The Laundry"), the first short film I made outside school, is going to be screened this week on Cinekatipunan with Dang Bagas's PARA SA KABATAAN ("For The Youth"). It will be held tomorrow, Tuesday, June 5, 5PM at Mag:net Cafe along Katipunan Avenue in Quezon City.

Mag:net has regular screenings and the good thing about it is it's free. They have a website that is regularly updated with their schedules, not just for Cinekatipunan, but for poetry readings, musical performances and even stand-up comic acts.

http://www.magnet.com.ph/#katip

It'll be like an anniversary for my little film. Almost exactly a year ago (in July), LABADA was screened in the Cinemalaya Independent Film Festival. I'm back to the old times when I was running around, contacting all my friends to go watch it. Interestingly, tomorrow will be the first time some of LABADA's cast and crew members will be seeing the film.

TriNoma

Finally! An Ayala mall in QC!

Though this makes me sound embarrassingly shallow, I have to admit I've been waiting for this moment to arrive. This photo shows my first visit to TriNoma, taken on the fourth floor of the mall, at the garden outside the Cinemas. I'm writing this entry as Joni and I sit through the trailers before the 10.30PM screening of 'Pirates of the Carribean: At World's End.' Needless to mention, the first movie I'm watching here. If you haven't figured out by now, I take my firsts very seriously. I'm sentimental that way :)

I must say, the place is worth the wait. Take note, though. It's not fully operational yet. Most of the shops are still under construction and the whole place smells of cement. The cinema's quite big, almost twice the size of Greenbelt 3's Cinema 1, I think. I actually like my cinemas smaller and more intimate, but at least I won't have to wait two hours for the next screening or settle for bad seats whenever I go there to catch a big movie. That's usually the problem I have with screenings that are booked out so quickly.

The mall has the great location! Right at the center of the triangle formed by Edsa, North, and Mindanao Avenues in Quezon City (thus the name, TriNoma, which stands for "Triangle North of Manila"). It was a good idea to shape it as such and make its impressive facade point toward the North Ave.-Mindanao Ave. intersection and its back on Edsa, where most cars will be coming from. It cleverly sidesteps the traffic and is an easy 10-minute drive from my Tierra Pura house. Five minutes if coming from Mother Ignacia where I work. For commuters, you will be happy to know that it has conveniently appendaged itself to the MRT North Avenue Station, the way the Ayala Station ushers commuters right smack into SM Makati. I just hope traffic remains free flowing. For the Ayalas to find a lot big enough for a project as big as this and situate it beside an older, more established competition, is quite a feat.

The architecture's also praiseworthy. It had the distinguished look of Ayala's newer malls. I read complaints in one blog about it being full of beams and pillars, but I didn't think it was anything to raise an alarm about. Plus the fact that it looks and feels more like a park than a mall compensates for that. Lots of trees, plants and fountains were incorporated in the landscape. In that sense, it's a lot like GB3. Even better, if you can believe that. A lot of nooks and pocket parks that will encourage you to just sit down and lounge amidst the greenery. The place is still confusing because it's new and unfamiliar, but I'm giving myself a couple of visits more and I'll have it nailed in my head.

The mall part, on the other hand, is more reminiscent of Glorietta. Both because of the atrium that serves as the activity center, and the nature of the the shops waiting to be opened, most obviously catering to the same market as Glorietta. Oh, and as if interiors, geography and accessibility is not enough, they're even going to have a Krispy Kreme and a Cold Rock there!

My excitement over this mall's opening probably stems from the fact that I grew up in the South (of Metro Manila, that is). Since I spent most of my pre-university years in Alabang, the mall of choice for us was Alabang Town Center (ATC, a brilliant redefition of the acronym that used to stand for Alabang Twin Cinemas). I've always thought that it was the best mall in the country. I still remember how my classmates and I would hang out, watch a movie, or kill time at Glico's after Saturday meetings for class projects or extra-curricular activities.

Since I made QC my home a year and a half ago, I rarely got to hang out at the ATC anymore. Actually, I started spending less time in the South after I started studying in UP Diliman. I only find myself back there when I visit our house in Muntinlupa and have some time to spare. So now, if I wanted to go hang out or shop in a place with a similar ambiance as Town's, I would have to go all the way to Makati. I never really wondered why it took this long for the Ayalas to build a mall in QC, considering the Sys have the SM City there. Well, I'm just glad TriNoma's open na. I swear, if you put blinders on and just block from view the heavy traffic along EDSA, and the SM across the street, you'd actually feel like you're in Alabang. Ah, home sweet home...

Or maybe OA lang talaga ko. I'm sentimental that way :)



This picture on the right:
Still taken at the garden outside the Cinemas. Sarap tambayan. I swear, kundi lang konti pa ang tao at bagong bukas pa lang yung place, di ako magpapapicture ng ganito sa mall, hahaha... Feeling ko tuloy nagde-day-off ako.

The Way theCouncil Loves

What follows is a text exchange among theCouncil barkada after our despedida dinner for Kristel and Forsyth. Something that I'd like to think is a testament to our friendship.

LEXIE:
"Council, thanks 4 tonight. Ang pangit ko ksi wen i got h0me naiyak ako. I realized... dat we are at a crossroad wer our life choices take us in different directi0ns...dat this myt b d last tym,or 1 of d rare tyms, dat we hav d freedom to drink 300-peso beers or have 3am coffee together...dat im so thankful for d past 10 years of having u in my life...and watevr d next 10 yrs wud be, i knw ul b ther, in body or in spirit, 2 make it as crazy,noisy, and surprising as it has always been. Yun lang. Senti moment over. Ang masasabi ko lang... "Tang-ina ang cute nya talaga!" And that is d end of that chapter. Ü"



KRISTETA:
"Lex, iba ang effect ng cherry beer sayo.Ü but seriously, we'll always be crazy and happy together. The council members arent my friends. You're family. You're home. And people always go back to that. Ü i love u all. And please dont get used to being without me.Ü"



RAZ:
"HAHAHAHA... I love that. I agree Lexie. I'm so tired but I spent the whole drive home staring out the window, playing in my head different scenarios that would make things different. But it's inescapable. Not naman ominous, just a matter of fact. Teta, you asked before why I never made kulit about Bali. As much as I hate it that we won't be complete, it's so negligible and not even half as tragic as you being gone. We are growing older nga. It's been a great decade with you. Not that it's ending we just have to adaf with the times, learn to share the crazy and happy times from overseas. I LOVE YOU ALL!!!"



LEXIE:
"Amen, Raz. I LOVE U GUYS. Forevr. Period. No pickle-mindedness ther. (obviously,jean isnt included in dis txt blast.Bt i lover her too!ü -Evil Lexie signing out)"



KRISTETA:
"Im gna miss u real bad. That msg was so sad and sweet. I swear im gna burst on tuesday."

That Tuesday, the night Kristel left, after we made her believe Lex and I were going to send her off and surprised her when we showed up with Concep, Jean and Joni as well...

KRISTETA:

"U guys are unbelievable. Thank you! THANK YOU. For tonight, for ten yrs and twenty and thirty. I love u and miss u all so much. You are the best. All 7 of u.Ü"

TITA EN, KRISTEL'S MOM:

"Jst left d airport.She came out pa and spnt 15mins mor wd us.Ü Thanks 2 d council 4 d heartwarming snd off.Ü i love d way u love each othr.B blessed evn mor.Ü"

I do love the way we love each other. That's why it really pains me to have two more of the barkada leave (Mark has been living in Indonesia for more than two years now, Kristel just left for Chicago last May 15, and Forsyth's relocating to Cebu starting May 28). Only five of us will be left in Manila by June.

It's a good thing we love each other in such a way that distance in time and space is not made to matter much.

Labor Day Weekend At Masbate

The weekend before the Labor Day celebration, Karmela, Chrissie and I flew to Masbate to do a little R&R. When I said yes to joining this vacation with my Law School blockmates, I wasn't quite sure I'll be free. I decided to risk it because it was to be my first trip with them, the CCs (Cosmic Comrades. Don't ask). Plus I was really desperate to make the most of the summer season. I did go to Boracay last April prior to this particular trip, but that was far from relaxing. Truth be told, most of the vacations I take are not. That's why this particular out-of-towner was a stand out. It was a much welcome breather from the stress of work. I've been praying for a break these past few months cause I haven't really had one since the onslaught that was "You Got Me!," and already, I'm working on a new project. I do know how to count my blessings so I'm not really complaining. Work in Star Cinema is hard to come by, and I know better than to act up when blessed with an opportunity to write.

We flew in Saturday morning, April 28, via Asian Spirit. After landing on Masbate soil, Karmela took us to Jollibee for quick mid-morning snacks, then we did some last minute shopping. We then took a trike to the wharf where her parents were waiting for us in their private pump boat. We sailed for about an hour and finally arrived at the Franco's provincial rest house. It's situated on a beach in Baranggay Titong, Masbate City (I think. Kar, you'll have to correct me on the city, hehe...).

It was such a beautiful house. Just a few steps away from the sea. Kar's Mom said that when the tide is high, the water could even lap the house's front wall. After setting camp in the guest room, we proceeded to the terrace (which they referred to as the 'balkon') and spent the time waiting for lunch to be served by playing with the Francos' Boston Terriers, Chessy and Blackie. That was to be our routine for the next few days. We would wake up, feast on cuisines prepared by Kar's parents and relatives, watch a DVD (among those I got to watch/rewatch: "28 Days Later," "Shaun Of The Dead," "A Scanner Darkly," "Chungking Express"), hang out, sleep again, wake up again, read, hang out, have dinner. I didn't mention breakfast cause I managed to oversleep every day and wake up just in time for lunch.

The following day, Sunday, we got to watch the locals engage in what seemed to be a favorite past time. Sabong (cockfighting). It was such a crude setup. They didn't even have a formal cockpit for the roosters. The men who had money betting on the clashing poultry formed a circle around them and served as cockpit boundaries. Kar's dad even bet on a few roosters and won.

Later that afternoon, the three of us took to the beach for the first time. We got Kar's inflatable raft and tested our rowing skills. Chrissie and I hogged the raft that first day, while Kar enjoyed swimming with her cousin Ai-Ai, who also served as our tourist guide. There was also a bamboo raft with make shift benches and nipa roofing propped on it. When we got tired from rowing against the oncoming waves, we stationed on that bamboo raft and bathed in the sun. Later, upon my return in Manila, I found out from my doctor that I wasn't supposed to do anything physical a week after my operation. I just had a tonsilectomy so my throat was not in tiptop condition yet. That still didn't stop me from enjoying our stay there. In fact, I managed to munch on a local treat they called "molido." It's a sweet pastry-like thing that reminded me of nougat. Other than that, however, mine was a diet of soup, pancit bihon, and vanilla ice cream.

After showering, the three of us lolled in the balkon, watching the locals enjoy the lazy Sunday afternoon. Kids frolicked on the sand as the women and the teen-agers chatted while partaking of halo-halo bought from the small stand set up beside the Francos' house. The rest of the men who were not busy making meals out of the cockfights' casualties were still engaged in the sport.

Watching all that was very therapeutic. Everything was so simple. Looking around, everyone seemed so happy, here in this barrio which did not even have electricity and needed to tap into the Francos' generator in order a light bulb and a television set work. Kar, Chrissie and I had a ball just watching kids wrestle and tumble on the rough sand. I actually intended to make this a working vacation for me. I even brought my laptop with me. But that sweet moment, I thought, "To hell with my deadline." I decided to just soak up the idyllic Masbate atmosphere and leave the rest of the world behind.

The next day, Monday, I spent the afternoon reading on the bamboo raft while Karmela had a go on the inflatable raft with Chrissie. They actually did well, rowing much further to the open sea than Chrissie and I did the previous day. I think it was because Chrissie was more confident after having tried it with me that Sunday. That, or she just trusted Karkar more. Meanwhile, I managed to read more than two-thirds of "Harry Potter And The Order Of The Phoenix." Karmela and Chrissie got back from rowing and we decided to spend the rest of the afternoon strolling along the countryside, with Ai-Ai leading the way.

Tuesday was Labor Day, the day we were to fly back to Manila. We all woke up early despite my not having enough sleep. I was up late finishing the rest of the fifth Harry Potter book. Karmela's parents joined us on the trip back. At the Masbate city proper, we ran into a Labor Day parade led by a militant party list group (Akbayan? Bayan Muna?) and heard roving cars announcing Ping Lacson's visit to the province later that afternoon. Then, at the airport, we managed to catch a glimpse of Kiko Pangilinan who was also just arriving for a campaign sortie. It was like after being detached for a good three days, we were being reminded that it was election season in the real world. And that quickly, I knew, we were back to the same stressful days from which I longed to be saved.

Thanks again, Karkar, for your family's warm hospitality! I really enjoyed myself in Masbate. Hiyas, too bad you weren't able to go with us. Below are our pictures from that trip. Enjoy! Hope we could do it again sometime :)