I Surrender

A gang of four high school friends met a trio of weary urbanites from Sta. Mesa at a weekend retreat.

A girl named Marimar, 11, hapilly sold stuff from Sprite to Generoso, to coffee laced with brown sugar.

Hot mami noodles eaten straight from the pan.

Booze, spicy crackers and a squid pulutan bar-b-qued over a thing called "bampayr."

Ants made a feast on us as we danced half-naked for our bath in the dark.

Fireflies raged silent as stars waxed poetic in midnight black, dragonlfly wings gleamed with pinprick sparks. A butterfly too - with its damaged flaps - appeared to be drunk as it suck something from a blue-green lighter thing.

Although this piece of paradise, tucked in a private property somewhere in the bowels of Sierra Madre, was called "Engkantasya," or even "Encantadia," no fairies nor lady warriors in slick costumes were seen, only mortal beings like us were heard as we seek refuge from the stress of city-living and recuperation from life's misgivings.

But certainly, having the water of Batlag in Tanay, Rizal fall onto your body is already an enchanting experience.

October 12-13, 2007

No need for a light bulb

Lamp posts in a lakeside barangay of Tanay, Rizal. May 27, 2007

Kwento ng Parola sa Pagdaan ni Milenyo

Days after supertyphoon Milenyo slashed through this sleepy lakeside town of Tanay in Rizal, the parola (or the light tower) became the centerpoint for all the folks whose lives depend on the bounty of the Laguna Lake.

They started to repair their fish nets. Rebuild fish pens. Fish vendors had returned as well as children had the day to spend with playing at the shadow of this humble landmark.

Then as I stood before the fading sun at the highest point of the parola, I felt being embraced by the wind as I wonder what other stories could she have been telling me. All I had was a Nokia 6600 mobile phone camera to snap photos of that day when the coast had been declared safe.