Alone With My Kids: My Wife Left Me!

Wednesday morning. Early morning. Like it was just a few days ago. Wait, it was only 2 days ago but it seemed like it's been 4 already. All her bags were packed, ready to go:

-to Japan!

She left home and the 40º weather for the land of ramen noodles and size-10 onitsukas.

Am here dunkin' my pan de sal in my 3-in-1 thinking what did I do to deserve this? By this I mean the 3-in-1 coffee and the charcoal-grilled pan-de-sal breakfast. Coffee is too sweet! And the pan-de-sal... well, read on. But this is not what this is all about. This is all about my sunglasses -my branded sunglasses.

I was about to toss in yesterday's freshly-baked pan-de sals into the oven toaster when I heard an fb notification beep in my tablet. I thought it must be a post from the ex-wife (ex here means exceptionally sexy, or extremely beautiful). So I hurriedly turned the oven timer and reached in for the tablet to check. I saw this:

Thanks to Didith, her post prompted me to transcribe my lonely thoughts into this blog. And thanks to Didith, am having charcoal pan-de-sal for breakfast -and therefore the sigh: I don't deserve this! 

After the smoke in the kitchen has cleared, I started pounding on my mac while my ex-wife with the Central Bank of China (ninang Bing), the Rural Bank of Paranaque (sister Reng) and the Paluwagan Queen (best friend Ardis) are being shuttled from their hotel somewhere in Japan where most Japanese live, to Yokohama to visit the tire factory, I guess.

I feel better now that the kitchen temperature has dropped to <50º, thanks to 2 working electric fans in full blast. I only have to deal with my misery the next time I drive for an errand or work or for whatever reason -wearing my branded sunglasses.

I am moving on with my life. My kids need me and the dishes in the sink are waiting...

このような、人生です... (translation: Kono yōna, jinseidesu...)

From Dirt Road to Dirt Road: Father & Son Cebu adventure

Two tricycle rides, two taxi rides, three jeepney rides, one V-hire ride, one multicab ride -the stuff this adventure is made of. But wait, there's more:

We began the adventure on foot headed west in a dirt road and ended it in a tricycle in the same dirt road. It's the 'TO' between the first "Dirt Road" and the final "Dirt Road" that made up the unplanned, spontaneous adventure -my initial reaction to which was that of I'm-not-really-that-excited-about-this-at-all.

April 23, 2015. Andre was a full daylight delayed in arriving after having to finish the last of his final exams for the year, his last pre-thesis year in college. Do you know what this means for me? Less tuition fees to pay!

Check out his post:

Andre's FB post

I know Andre. His sense of adventure isn't actually being holed-up in a resort taking and being asked to take selfies. He's travelled 'alone' (sans family) with his friends in Europe, Singapore and just recently in Sagada, Mt. Province. The last time he was in this city, Andre was half his age now.

Early that morning after his arrival the night before, he said he wanted to see how much those places we've visited then have changed. I haven't opened my laptop in the past 24 hours. Going with Andre means I won't be able to do so for another full daylight. Hmmm, the unknown in this adventure has its ways of making me want to go.

So G!

Begin: The Dirt Road

To the dirt road! This is a 1.3km, 35ºC dusty walk to the highway where we can pick up a higher form of transportation - a tricycle ride to where the V-Ride (Express Van) terminal is. Express Vans take you to different parts of Metro Cebu the tricycle driver assures us. Our first destination was Ayala Center. Upon reaching the terminal and having taken his P50, our driver spoke to the guards who informed him in Greek that none of the vans can take us to where we first wanted to go. Even if this form of transport wasn't in our mental list, taxi was the next best option. But since there were no taxis in sight, the red-faced driver with a lop-sided Elvis Presley grin on his face redeemed himself by offering us a free ride to where we can hail one. Hailed one we did.

Taxi ride to Ayala Center

From Mactan island, our taxi headed farther northwest to the bigger main island of Cebu, the location of our first destination, Ayala Center.








The Ayala Terraces

In 2006 when we last visited Cebu as a family, there was no Terraces yet. It was built late 2008 transforming what was once a static lagoon to a dynamic food and beverage strip highlighted by a well-landscaped garden in the middle, an Ayala signature. The Terraces is the first big change that Andre wanted to see. He didn't get disappointed.

The Terraces (pic credit: Andre)

Jeepney ride to the Cathedral

After a few snapshots, look to the left and look to the right, I approached a guard to ask how to get to our next destination: 

Unsa un nacu pag agtu anang Basilica de Sto. Nino?

Using his stock knowledge of Tagalog and hand gestures that could rival a Sicilian, we were directed towards the jeepney terminal within the mall grounds. That day being a Friday, we were told roads leading to the Basilica were closed. Good thing, a good lady in the same jeepney ride walked with us towards the Cebu Metropolitan Cathedral -the first of three stops in the area.

The Cebu Metropolitan Cathedral

This visit to the Cathedral is a first for both Andre and me. I don't remember being here before. Yeah, could be memory gap -Andre was born by c-section, so there.

Inside Cebu Cathedral

Although just a few strides away from the Basilica, not too many people flock to this holy place. Perhaps the other places offer more miracles than this Cathedral. Or simply, 16th century trumps 17th century relic anytime. Oh Filipino spirituality I love.

Cebu Metropolitan Cathedral

We took those few strides to where people swear miracles abound. By this time, I was in a lookout for a store where I can buy band-aids for the my blistered toes developed after about 8980 steps of walking starting from that dirt road. Dang crocs -wrong footwear. We didn't find any band-aid store between the Cathedral and the Basilica. But you know what? I managed to tread upon my son's heels. A miracle!

The Basilica Minore del Sto. Nino de Cebu

As we entered the plaza, the final blessing of a Holy Mass celebrated in open air was just about to be given. I took off my cap and we joined hundreds of pilgrims as we bowed our heads down to receive the blessing. This was another miracle for me. I go to mass daily even when I travel. There are only a few days in a year that I do miss. This was one of those days. Still, God wanted to bless me the same way He blesses me everyday in the holy sacrifice of the mass.

Basilica de Sto. Nino

We went inside and as I always do when entering a church, I recited the Magnificat in Latin:

Magnificat anima mea Dominum

Et exultavit spiritus meus in Deo salutari meo...

The Magellan's Cross

A tourist's trip to Cebu ain't complete without a visit to one of the most important monuments in the history of Philippine Christianization, the Magellan's Cross, literally a crossing away from the Basilica. Planted allegedly by Ferdinand Magellan in 1521, the Cross attracts hundreds, perhaps thousands everyday. I noticed that there were pilgrims who with stretched arms touch the base of the Cross and murmur prayers. I did the same not to ask for miracles or favors but to unite myself to the spirituality of those who do. Told you, Filipino spirituality -I love.

Magellan's Cross

With blistered toes and hungry tummies, we thought it was time to grab a taste of Cebu street food. So we asked kuya guard in the pharmacy (finally!) where the best place to satisfy our palates is to be found. He pointed to this place:

Cebu McStreet Food

I got a chance to band-aid my blisters while inside the air-conditioned street food place. Although a bit disappointed with the street food that tastes no different from the drive-thru food in Quezon City, we filled our bodies with enough BTUs to last us till the next sutukil we find along the way. Up next is a new chapel built in honor of the newest-declared Filipino saint, Pedro Calungsod. We asked no less than 5 people how to get to the South Road Properties (SRP), we got no less than 5 different answers only to find out that a taxicab is the only public transport that could bring us there.

Taxi ride to SRP and back

Chapel of St. Pedro Calungsod

The chapel is a sight to behold. This Philstar article best described what we saw:

The church has 100 walls, each with a unique height and width so that they seem almost like people.  No one is the same (sic) and yet they are all connected in the fact that they exist together as a cluster.  The walls come together to form a kind of congregation, and within it are auxillary spaces for a baptistry, an adoration chapel, prayer niches, the sacristy, fourteen stations of the cross, and even a quiet room for children. -www.philstar.com

St. Pedro Calungsod Chapel

Inside the chapel, after my usual recitation of the Magnificat, I walked closer to the altar in the hope that the good saint gives us a glorious welcome, you know, fireworks or something. But when I got near the altar, there came no thunders and lightning, no fire and rain. But I am comforted by my belief that not all miracles are seen or heard or felt. Faith tells me they just are. This I believe.

Inside St. Pedro Calungsod Chapel

The cab driver took us back to earth near the Basilica where we can take another jeepney ride to the next point in this day-long adventure, SM City.

Jeepney ride to SM City Cebu

SM was added to the itinerary because of an errand we were called to do. While at it, Andre bought 2 tall glasses of fresh buko juice which I sipped throughout the next leg which is a V-Hire ride to a stopover where we can get another ride to get to the Lapu-lapu Shrine. We were first in line to the next dispatch that gave us "dibs" to the 2 front seats. Andre offered me a fist pump and declared, "Dad... adventure!" Easily, one of the most beautiful father and son moments of this trip.

SM Cebu 

The next ride in a multicab brought us to our final adventure point, the Lapu-lapu (Mactan) shrine.

The Penultimate Leg

The Mactan Shrine

We've been here before. Andre remembered me telling him that it was a fish that caused the death of Magellan. This picture tells that story:

Magellan looks down at the fish

At the Lapu-lapu Shrine

Lapu-lapu Monument

The images captured in this whole adventure only serve as backdrops to the insights gained in every ride and in every stop. Add to that the miracles that came without being noticed.

The Final Leg

One last jeepney ride and the final tricycle ride in that dirt road where we started brought us back to the resort. In the tradition of Amazing race, we ran from the gate towards the finish line, our room. Panting with a victorious grin on his face, Andre pronounced, "Adventure done!" We high-fived!

End: The Dirt Road

In my mind, father and son adventure didn't end that day. It continues along the grind of everyday life.

I'll look forward to the next time we drop everything and run straight to a crooked dirt road...

When Subtraction is Multiplication

I am technical, therefore, the title.

                      or

The title, therefore, I am technical.

But mind not the metaphysical aspect of the beginning, this is just the cause and effect of my reading Thomas A. -the dude that started it all.

I just feel the need to publish this train of thought -actually a reflection of today’s gospel reading. I am right in the middle of a project meeting waiting for my item, which is I think is stuck between the 36th and the 51st slides, to go up the discussion board. I arrived late -just when the 12th slides off the screen but early enough to catch the first of the doughnuts that got passed around.

Hmmmm, donuts!
And just like that, I am reminded of the mass early this morning:

                 Jesus then took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, 

                 he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, 

                 as much as they wanted. And when they had eaten their fill, 

                 he told his disciples, "Gather up the fragments left over, 

                 that nothing may be lost." So they gathered them up and 

                 filled twelve baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves, 

                 left by those who had eaten. 

                -John 6:11-13

For me, this is a lesson about gaining abundance. That it is by sharing that one gains more. But why does it seem difficult at times to part ways with what we have? Again, Jesus showed how. He gave His whole being -everything for the service of His Father and of mankind. Then the rest came easy.

Jesus didn’t start giving Himself away to the will of the Father in Calvary, or in the Garden, or during the Last Supper. He started from day one. His life is a testimony to this.

Let’s not complicate something so simple.

You subtract, God multiplies. Give all to gain all.

Do the Math!

Oops! My slide is on...

I miss my bangs: a lenten perspective

It's one of those days when thoughts of good ol' times come. Days when an ACE comb is the most important accessory a full-headed young man must have. Yes I once had both: hair and comb. The former so full, so black, so thick growing on my head; the latter in my Levi's back pocket or tucked inside my right foot sock for easy access anytime, anywhere.

Ash Wednesdays then were far different. I had to prepare my forehead. You can't let hair bangs get in the way of the cross. Well, words to that effect.

A quick fix then would be to reach in for that comb, one brush stroke across the top of the head to the left and another across the top to the right. Then you're all set to line up. When lining up, make sure to avoid electric fans lest a second helping from the ace hardware is needed.

After getting the forehead crossed, the bangs now plays the role of a cross protector, securing it from erosion. During my early years, I thought it was sacrilegious not to keep the ashes till the next shower. Therefore the need for the guardian bangs.

Those days are gone. So are the bangs.

This morning, I sort of gave the lay minister a harder time. With so much space to work on, my now extended forehead becomes a canvas. Will it be the Chi-Rho, the Jerusalem cross or the Papal cross? Big cross, small cross? Plain cross or crucifix? (Imagine that, a crucifix sculptured in pulverized charcoal above my eyes. That's Here's Lookin' at You Kid at a different level!)

While queueing, I was arguing in my mind what to give up this lent. I am reminded of the Sabbath article I read last night that struck me deep penetrating my gut:

We sacrifice not for sacrifice's sake. The suffering  and pain that accompanies our sacrifices do not make our sacrifices holy. What makes them holy is the love that motivates them. When suffering is borne out of love, we become more like Him. -Fr. Joel Jason, (Sabbath, Shepherd's Voice Publications)

So it's not just what to give up. It's who to give them up for.
Walking towards the ash minister I got to some serious thinking:
Maybe give up shopping FOR my wife and kids;
Or daily clean the house, the cars, the laundry FOR my family and relatives and friends who visit occasionally;
Give up meat FOR the fishermen and veggie farmers on EVEN days;
Give up fish and vegetables FOR the cattlemen and hog raisers on ODD days;
Fair is fair. Everyone happy.

I know, I know. There's the context in those striking words that I am out of.

Maybe I'll put my life on hold for 40 days to ensure it could advance.
See the beauty in the boring mundane part of life.
Give up anger and say a little prayer FOR that dude that cut me off.
Give up comfort FOR someone who needs it.

Hold those thoughts. Am now just two strides away from Mr. Minister.

Then finally, a black cross on my forehead. Not too fancy. Not silently screaming if you know what I mean. It was, hmmm, a humble cross befitting the season. I actually liked it.

It didn't last long, though. With nothing to break the gravitational flow of perspiration from the top of my head, it was crossed out. But I'm not as bothered anymore. What's more important for me now is not what's on my forehead, but what's in my heart. Uh-huh!

Afterall, what's in there lasts
Long after what's on top have faded away -bangs, ashes and all.

Neo obra

Today I'm a proud owner of a Noli Del Mundo Vicedo. Who you ask? Actually, it's a What which leads to the Who. The What is an oil painting in canvas entitled Dalangin sa Hapag -loosely translated, it means Prayer at the (dining) Table -an obra maestra of The Who, Noli Vicedo who happens to be a good friend of mine from the Stone Age. And a fellow James Taylor fan.

It's the first ever purchase I made this new year 2015. It started with a post by the painter in his facebook page:

Like a rooster circling and dropping its wing to woo a hen, Vicedo shows off his wares using the digital media. And from this far end of the world wide web, it works! Gotcha! I can almost hear him say. But it wasn't this rooster's wing that got me. 

In his official website, it was this neo obra that captured my attention: 

the four human figures suggesting a family (of four);

the predominantly warm colors that the visual person in me is always drawn to; and,

the title itself that touches a part of my own spiritual journey.

Like gravity, I was pulled towards making a decision.

We exchanged messages online. La-di-dah. And deal 2015-001 is sealed.

Now I have to find a reason. Or two.

Reason 1: Our dining room/kitchen/office extension/study room. 

Would you agree with me when I say that the wall in this room needs some serious makeover? Here's a picture:

ISO 200 180mm 0EV f/13   1/15

As you can see, it's perfectly white during daytime. Here's the same wall taken at night time:

ISO 100 25mm 0EV f/8   1/60

And perfectly black at nighttime.

It's not supposed to make an imperfect room perfect. Making it perfectly imperfect is good enough for me. It should provide for an impression of distinction or maybe even of wealth -in the dining room, no less. That's what an original art is supposed to give, yes? Things will change in the way people look at our dining room from now on. Nobody will miss that part of the wall now covered by the artwork. Ah, let's talk about it. There you go, a piece to chat about!

Next, to show support to local artists. Living local artists.

In the lighting industry where I can be found twisting and shouting about, foreign consultants and designers are preferred over locals like Toespin. Not so delightful, is it! In the same light of hoping that more property developers may be enlightened to prefer and acquire our services, I also pray that local artists like Vicedo get the support of more and more Filipino art enthusiasts.  

Couldn't we shine? Rolling all my golden moments into one.

Like to shine like the sun for one more summer day.

Like to shine like a lighthouse for one last summer night,

flashing on, flashing, fading away

-James Taylor Lighthouse

Finally, it lends me an air of success, albeit fleeting -just like any new year's resolution. Some people who depend on lucky stars would rather wait for money to come in at the start of the year before spending. Me, no. Not this year. A feeling of success is what I want. Such is a mine to dig out treasure from when needed. Is this a selfish act? I'm not so sure. Am I not entitled to one? Is it a rare act? Yes, but it can't be as rare as the original Vicedo's Dalangin sa Hapag. 

Oremus...