clarisseinao

[clarisseinao]

A 1001-kilometer Journey: Around Western Visayas in 3 Days

Matagal ko nang pangarap mag-solo backpacking trip. Una dahil matigas ang ulo ko, pangalawa gusto ko kasi i-challenge ang sarili ko, pangatlo dahil matigas ang ulo ko. Hahaha! It was December 2016 nang maging successful akong makapagbook ng roundtrip tickets via Air Asia papuntang Kalibo. I paid for them, and then dahil na rin sa pagiging busy sa trabaho, inisip ko na pag malapit na lang saka ako gagawa ng itinerary. Pero syempre bilang napakagaling ko rin na tao, 2 days na lang before ng flight ako nagresearch at gumawa ng rushed itinerary.

July 8, 2017. There I was in our office, holding a peso coin and thinking why on Earth am I letting it decide for me. Torn ako kung anong gagawin ko sa loob ng tatlong araw, anong ruta ang iikutin ko. Iloilo-Guimaras-Bacolod ba? Roxas-Aklan-Antique? Wag na lang kaya ako tumuloy kasi ang irresponsible ko? Hahaha! But still, I flipped it. And it said I should go for Iloilo-Antique-Aklan and forget about the others.

So I did. I went to those three provinces, and boy it was one hell of a good decision.

Day 1: Aklan to Iloilo

The flight to Aklan from Manila was fast, namalayan ko na lang nasa Kalibo International Airport na kami. I think it only took 35 minutes. We arrived at KIA around 4:20 in the afternoon, and I immediately went out of the airport to look for a tricycle to Ceres Bus Terminal. Tip: Wag na kayo sumakay sa labas mismo ng airport kasi medyo mahal kung doon kayo manggagaling. Short walk lang from KIA yong highway kung saan dumadaan most of the tricycles.

The trip was also short, 10 minutes lang I think. I paid 20 pesos and waited for the bus to Iloilo na according sa napagtanungan ko, 5PM pa dumadating. I bought snacks habang naghihintay and in fairness, 5PM sakto dumating yong bus pa-Iloilo. The fare was 253 pesos and will take 4 hours pa-terminal nila sa Jaro, Iloilo.

9PM na nga no’ng nakarating kami and malas kasi umaambon. (Oo wala akong dalang payong sa trip na to, sabi ko naman sa inyo magaling talaga ako eh hahaha). I approached a man to ask anong jeep ang sasakyan ko pa-Ong Bun Pension House (booked via Travel Loka 300 pesos for a solo room), and unfortunately wala na palang dumadaang Jaro-Liko that time dahil gabi na. Fortunately, papunta rin s’ya around the are no’ng pension house so he invited me na mag-taxi na lang kami. 20 minutes after, nasa tapat na kami ng pension house and when I was paying half of our fare, he told me na okay na ‘yon. Nagulat ako mga mamshie! Hahaha! He just added na ganoon daw sila mag-welcome ng mga turista sa Iloilo and okay lang kasi same way lang kami. Nagpasalamat na lang ako (tatanggi pa ba ako e libre na nga?) and proceeded to check in inside the pension house. Lumabas ako saglit to buy light dinner and then spent the night reviewing my itinerary. 12MN, lights off na.

Day 2: Iloilo to Antique

I started the day early to maximize my time. 7AM, nagcheck out na ako sa pension house para diretso na ako sa byahe in the evening. First stop? Breakfast at Madge Cafe (Gastos; 250 pesos). Sumakay ako ng jeep with a signboard na La Paz (7 pesos), and then bumaba sa La Paz Public Market. Nasa loob yung Madge Café.

After breakfast, nilakad ko na lang papuntang Museo Iloilo. Around 5-10 minutes but okay lang kasi malamig no’ng umaga and masarap maglakad lalo na doon sa tulay above Iloilo River. Pagdating ko sa Museo Iloilo (Entrance fee: 50 pesos), ako lang ‘yong guest. Sinalubong ako ng caretaker na si Ate Diday. Pagkatapos ko mag-tour, Ate Diday approached me and asked me kung nalibot ko na ba yong city and then she told me tips and good places to go.

Other places you can go sa area: Arroyo Fountain, Old Iloilo Provincial Capitol

9AM, I was already at Jaro Cathedral. From Museo Iloilo, ride a jeep na may placard na Jaro CPU (7 pesos). Unfortunately, sarado yung church so I just prayed sa entrance then nagpunta ako sa kabilang building to light a candle.

Other places you can go sa area: Casa Mariquit, Nelly Garden a.k.a. Lopez “white” house (kailangan ng reservation), and Sanson y Montinola Antillian House

After Jaro Cathedral, I went to Molo Church. Sumakay ako ng jeep na may placard na “Jaro-Liko” (7 pesos) and nagpababa sa tapat ng St. Paul. Pagbaba ko ng Saint Paul, sumakay ulit ako ng jeep na may placard na “Villa-Mohon” (7 pesos) and bumaba ako sa Plaza Molo.

Other places/s you can go sa area: Camiña Balay nga Bato. It s located near Molo Plaza, along the highway. Tour rates are P150 per person may kasama na yong house tour and tsokolate tasting, P200 per person naman kapag house tour, tsokolate, at pancit molo tasting ang gusto mo.

After touring the plaza and the church, lumabas na ako. I bought meryenda and took the opportunity to ask paano pumunta ng Iloilo City Hall since maganda raw yong view sa roofdeck no’n. According to manang, kailangan ko raw sumakay ng jeep na may placard na “Baluarte” (7 pesos) and sabihin ko sa driver na ibaba ako sa City Hall. The trip took around 20 minutes.

First kong pinuntahan sa City Hall is yung gallery nila. The room is full of displays and it perfectly depicts Iloilo and its rich history. After looking around, I rode the elevator to 7th floor and looked for the entrance ng roofdeck. Soooobrang amazing! You can even see Guimaras Island from there, and the skyline was so beautiful. Plus, everything is freeee!

After enjoying the scenic view, bumaba na ako. Doon lang din ako nakaramdam ng gutom haha! Sa kanto from the city hall, may restaurant where you can eat one of the best tasting La Paz batchoys which is Ted's Old-timer La Paz Batchoy.

Other places you can go sa area: Iloilo Customs House, Calle Real, the cultural core of Downtown Iloilo, Arroyo Fountain, and Old Provincial Capitol.

After the half-day tour, sumakay na ako ng jeep papuntang Molo Terminal kung saan nandoon ang mga buses and vans pa-Garin Farm. Ang placard no’ng jeep is “Villa Arevalo”. When I reached the terminal, I boarded a van (70 pesos) and told the driver na ibaba ako sa San Joaquin. The trip was around an hour and a half and pagbaba ko sa kanto pa-Garin, sumakay ako ng habal-habal (20 pesos). After 10 minutes, nakarating na ako sa Garin. (Entrance fee: 150 pesos)

Garin Farm and Pilgrimage Resort I must say is a mix of agriculture, leisure, and pilgrimage in one place. Agriculture kasi ang daming mga hayop mamshies! As in yung entrance, maririnig mo yung mga baka, manok, ibon. Haha! The walk up to the entrance of the pigrimage was around 10-20 minutes (natagalan ako kasi natuwa ako sa mga baka hahaha). Yung leisure kasi may mga activities sila sa baba ng pilgrimage like zip line, fishing, boating and may restaurant din.

To reach the top of the pilgrimage, 456 steps yung aakyatin mo so better bring water while doing it. May option naman na mag-golf cart kayo paakyat which is 30 pesos but I decided to challenge myself and syempre para tipid din no! (Plus bragging rights na din haha). No kidding, I really had goosebumps when I reached the top, may music pa kasi sila mga mamshie so feeling ko nasa langit talaga ako hahahaha nakakaloka. Ang puti puti no’ng paligid!

6PM na ako nakabalik sa kanto beside the highway dahil nag-enjoy talaga ako ng sobra sa Garin Farm.  Doon na ako naghintay ng bus pa-Culasi, Antique na dadaan sa Tibiao. (Fare: 153 pesos) I reached Antique around 9:30 in the evening and that’s when an almost nightmare started. If you want to know what happened bakit ninerbyos ang parents ko here’s the full story. But long story short, namali ako ng calculate sa oras and ended up almost a thousand kilometers away from home, with no one to turn to, no place to stay aside from an old waiting shed beside the dark, deserted highway. Thank God for angels! Huhu. I ended up sleeping sa bahay ng kapitana ng Brgy. Importante. It was a long night but I am very grateful na everything turned out fine. 💖

Day 3: Antique to Aklan

Maaga ulit ako gumising to catch the sunrise on the way to Kayak Inn Kawa Hot Bath. Manang Suzette a.k.a one of the angels who saved me helped me arranged a habal-habal the night before so 6:30 pa lang ng umaga, on the way na kami sa bundok. The trip will take you around 30 minutes.

Ako lang yong guest ng Kayak Inn that morning, usually the price (250 pesos) is good for 30 minutes lang but they allowed me to stay in one of the kawas until gusto ko. Walang halong charot, worth all the hassle yung place. Ang ganda, ang peaceful, ang sarap nong experience. It will really help you wash away yong mga baon mong sama ng loob from wherever you are. Hahaha! Sulit lahat ng pinagdaanan ko to reach the place so in the end, wala akong kahit kaunting regret.

Tip: No signal sa area so send messages na agad before umakyat. The use of cottage for day-time use plus restroom is free.

After enjoying the place, I immediately went down na rin to catch a bus pa-Kalibo. The trip will take you around 3 hours (155 pesos). You’ll enjoy the scenic view while on your way so prepare your phone pa rin! :)

After reaching Aklan, I looked a tricycle na magdadala sa’kin sa Bakhawan Eco-park. (300 yong tricycle fee which includes the driver as your personal tour guide, taga-picture and the ride pabalik sa Kalibo International Airport)

The eco-park is being tagged as the most successful mangrove reforestation project in the country. More than one kilometer na lakaran ito mga mamshie at may magandang view sa dulo so go push! May cafeteria rin serving local delicacies so yon nalang ang gawin mong inspiration sa paglalakad. Haha!

That’s how I ended my 1001-kilometer journey. It didn’t turn out exactly the way I expected it would be, but I guess that’s what makes the whole trip a memorable one. ✨

PS. 

May you, the one reading this right now, also find the courage to pursue something you’ve been wanting to do even if most of the people are saying you can’t. May it be a solo backpacking trip like what I did, or trying out something new, or finally deciding about something you’ve been running away from for a long, long, time already. Think hard, think about it over and over, and if in the end you still feel all the overwhelming need to do it, I hope you find yourself strong enough to say “Yes, I will!”

[clarisseinao]

Forget the damn aesthetics, this is one of my most favorite photos from my #SoloBackpackingTrip2017. Akala ko makakalusot na ako sa madaliang paggawa ko ng itinerary pa-Visayas. Smooth ang 1st day ko, at maghapong nasunod ang plano no'ng 2nd day sa Iloilo. Sa utak ko, pag-patak ng 7PM ng gabi, nasa Antique na ako. Nasa tabi lang ng highway ang mga habal-habal pa-Kayak Inn, walang magiging problema. Sigurado ako. Kaso, alas otso na, malayo pa ako. Lagpas 9:00PM nang ibaba ako ng last trip na Ceres bus na sinakyan ko sa kanto ng Brgy. Importante. So there I was, almost a thousand kilometers away from home, with no one to turn to, no place to stay aside from an old waiting shed beside the dark, deserted highway. Sa loob ng limang minutong nandoon ako, walang dumaan ni isang sasakyan. Walang katao-tao, hanggang narealize ko na yung lalaking nakasabay ko sa bus na bumaba din doon sa kantong yon, nandoon pa rin pala nong mga oras na yun, tulad ko. Sa unang pagkakataon sa buong byahe ko, gusto ko magsisi. Di ko napigilan dala na rin siguro ng instinct kayaa nilingon ko ulit sya, at pagtingin ko, palapit na sya sakin. Humakbang ako ilan palayo, nilibot ang mga mata sa paligid. Wala ako pwedeng takbuhan kung sakali. "Ma'am okay ka lang?" tanong nong lalaki. Tumango ako nang hindi sya tinitingnan. "Naghanap ka ng turugan ma'am?" tanong nya.  "Dyan ma'am sa tapat oh, tiyuhin ko may-ari nyan. Kaso sarado na. Teka tawagin ko ma'am ha." tapos nakita ko syang tumawid papunta doon sa inn sa kabilang kalye, kinalampag ang gate. Lumabas ang tatlong malalaking aso. Di ko alam kung bakit ko sya sinundan. "Ma'am alanganin na, bakit ngayon ka lang bumyahe pa-dito?" kakakamot kamot sya sa batok. "Text ko nanay ko ma'am ha, nanay ko barangay captain dito." Unti-unti, nawala ang kaba ko sa lalaki na nakilala kong si Kuya Janjan. Driver din daw sya ng Ceres pero byaheng Caticlan-Iloilo. Sampung minuto kaming naghihintay sa labas ng inn pero walang sumasagot. "Ma'am gusto nyo sa bahay nalang kayo matulog?" "Po?" "Ay ma'am wag kayo mag-alala sa bahay po ng  nanay ko," natatawa ulit nyang paliwanag. "Nakahiwalay po ako ng bahay, kasama po yung asawa tsaka mga anak ko." Sampung minuto ang nakakalipas, nakarating kami sa isang compound. Sinalubong kami ng isang batang lalaki sa gate, na pangalawa palang anak ni Kuya Janjan at pagkatapos ay pinagbuksan kami ng isang matandang babae ng pinto ng bahay nya. Trenta minuto ang nakalipas at matapos ang di matapos tapos na panghihingi ko ng sorry dahil sa abalang binigay ko, nagtatawanan na kami ng matandang babae sa lamesa nila habang kinakain ko ang bagong lutong pancit canton at kapeng tinimpla nya para sa'kin. Ang lambing ng boses ni Manang Suzette. (Wag daw kapitana ang itawag ko, di raw sya sanay) Trenta minuto pa ay ayos na ang hihigaan ko sa isa sa mga kwarto nila. Pero di ako agad nakatulog dahil napasarap kami ng kwentuhan ni manang, tawa sya ng tawa sa mga kwento ko at aliw na aliw ako sa mga kwento nya. Alas-onse na nang maramdaman ng likod ko ang malambot na kama. --- Habang pinapanood ko si manang tumawa dahil sa Lay's chips na kwento ko sa eroplano, napatanong ako sa kawalan kung ano bang nagawa kong maganda sa buhay ko bakit lagi akong nakakakakilala ng mga taong busilak ang puso. Yung tipong pag pawala na yong faith ko sa humanity, bigla ko silang makakatagpo para ipaalala sa'kin na hindi pa nauubos ang mga taong katulad nila na handang buksan ang pinto ng bahay at buhay nila sa ibang tao nang walang hinihinging kapalit. Nanay Suzette, Kuya Janjan, hindi ko alam kung makakarating to sa inyo katulad nang hindi ko alam kung paano magpapasalamat. Sabi nyo maliit na bagay lang yong ginawa nyo para sa'kin pero kung alam nyo lang po kung gaano naguumapaw ng gratefulness ang puso ko. Nakakatakot isipin kung ano sanang nangyari sakin sa madilim na kalsada na yon kung di nyo ko natagpuan at pinatuloy sa bahay nyo. Salamat sa pagtitiwala sa'kin kahit di nyo naman ako kilala, at sa oras na nilaan nyo para maging maayos ang pananatili ko sa Antique. My stay in Kawa Inn was awesome, pero kayo ang highlight ng ikatlong araw ng byahe ko. ❤

[clarisseinao]

Binigo ako ng Baguio sa maraming paraan, at okay lang ‘yon

3 years ago, para sa isang activity sa university publication, tinanong ako ng isang kaibigan: ano 'yong isang pangarap mo? "Gusto ko mag-Baguio." Natatandaan ko pa kung paanong di sila makapaniwala na di pa ako nakakapunta don. Well, di ko naman sila masisisi kasi hindi naman komplikado ang daan paakyat, maraming paraan at dahilan. Pero ako siguro yong tao na hindi laging nabibigyan ng pagkakataon. Kaya tatlong gabi na ang nakakalipas, nong nalaman ko na didiretso 'yong kaibigan ko don mula sa team building namin sa La Union, nagdesisyon akong sumabay sa kan'ya. At dahil may sarili rin syang pakay doon, lakas loob kong sinabi na ayos lang 'yon dahil ready naman ako i-explore 'yong lugar kahit mag-isa. Matagal na pangarap,kaya maraming beses na rin akong nagresearch tungkol sa Baguio. Mga murang hostel, masarap na kainan, lugar na pupuntahan, saan sasakay, saan bababa, magkano pamasahe, paano umuwi. Maraming gabi na inimagine ko ang sarili ko na ineexplore ang lugar habang hindi ko nararamdaman ang sikat ng araw dahil sa lamig, na walang problema kong malalagyan lahat ng marka yong checklist ko. At doon ako binigo ng Baguio. Pagtapak ko palang, sinalubong na ako ng ulan, at nang kapain ko sa bulsa ng bag ko nalaman kong naiwan ko pala 'yong payong ko sa bus. Nakatulong panlaban sa lamig ang jacket na dala ko (na pinahiram lang sa'kin ng workmate ko) pero wala akong choice kundi labanan ang ambon. Ulan din ang naging dahilan ng marami pang misadventures ko sa Baguio; ilang beses kong kinailangan mag-taxi,napabili ako ng bagong payong nang wala sa oras, ilang beses akong naligaw, at muntikang madulas (hahaha!). Naging mas challenging puntahan ang mga nasa plano ko, may mga lugar na hindi ko na nakita dahil kinulang sa oras at marami pang mga bagay na wala sa plano. Dumating ako sa lugar kung kailan hindi ideal pumunta don, kung kailan hindi ko mararanasan ang ideal na experience na nasa utak ko noon pa. Pero dahil na rin sa mga bagay at maliliit na pagkabigo na 'yon, mas nakilala ko ang Baguio, malayo sa mga nasa brochures, blogs, at kwento ng ibang mga nakapunta na. Siguro, kung sa pinangarap kong sitwasyon ako umakyat, hindi ko makikilala 'yong matandang babae na sumama sa akin pabalik ng hostel dahil wala akong payong. Hindi ko siguro mararanasan maligaw at tulungan ng maraming tao to the point na kahit out of the way, ihahatid nila ako sa sakayan. Hindi siguro ako bibigyan ng extrang strawberries ni manong magtataho kasi nakwento ko sa kanya na mag-isa lang akong umakyat. Hamog lang ang naabutan ko sa Mines View Park, pero nalaman kong mas nakakamangha tanawin ang Baguio sa likod ng mga ulap. Mas magandang tingnan ang mga bulaklak habang mas namumukadkad sila dahil sa ulan.At kahit nakakapagod i-hike ang Camp John Hay dahil na rin sa tarik at dulas ng daan, kakaibang kapayapaan ang ibibigay n'ya sayo dahil sa katahimikan (o baka dahil ako lang ang turista nong pumunta ako don, haha) Mas naappreciate ko ang init ng mami, ang amoy ng kape galing sa Benguet, ang luto ng mga restaurants, ang mga ngiti ng mga lokal na nakakasalubong ko na parang nag-aalo sa'kin. Sapat na ang init na binigay ng mga tao at ng lahat ng naranasan ko para maunawaan ko kung bakit kailangan ko mabigong sundin ang checklist sa utak ko. Baguio is not always the hugot, not always about the usual places, not always about summer. P'wede mo s'yang puntahan kahit hindi ka heartbroken, o hindi mo naman kailangan hanapin ang sarili mo. The city will welcome happy souls. And even at its coldest, most unideal state, it's worth knowing and worth telling about. For that, I can definitely say that for my first solo travel, I have no regrets.

[clarisseinao]

Katulad ng siyudad kung saan tayo unang nagtagpo, lumuluha ka rin nang matagpuan kita. "Nakakainis...nakakainis.." paulit-ulit mong bulong, paroo't parito sa harap natin ang mga tao, nanghihikayat ang mga barker sa tapat natin at ako..nakatingin lang ako sa'yo habang nakatingala ka sa langit. "Miss, okay ka lang? Anong nangyari?" Nilingon mo ako, alam kong nagulat ka dahil sino ba ako para pakialaman ka? Sino ako para pagsabihan mo ng problema mo tungkol sa buhay mo, o sa trabaho mo, o sa puso mo? Natatawang naasar kang sumagot habang pinapahid mo ang mga luha, "Naiwan ko yung payong ko sa bus." ----- "Dito nalang ako," sabi mo, habang nakaturo ka sa building na titirahan mo. "Salamat ha, t'saka pasensya na sa abala. Ano nga ulit pangalan mo?" "Wala 'yon-" "Wala 'yon? Wala 'yon ang pangalan mo?" napalingon sa'tin ang mga dumadaan dahil sa tawa mo habang kinakamot ko ang batok ko. "Hindi, pangalan ko-- "Ah basta, para sa'kin ikaw na si Walayon. Hahaha! So, saan ka mag-stay dito? Dalawin kita bukas!" Ako naman ang natawa habang inaangat ang maleta mo. "Sige, katukin mo nalang ako sa kwarto ko." sabi ko habang nauna na akong maglakad papasok sa parehong hotel na tutuluyan mo. --- "Hindi ka ba sisigaw?" tanong ko habang nakatanaw tayo sa hamog na pinagtataguan ng siyudad. "Bakit ako sisigaw?" "Yung parang sa pelikula. Lahat ng sama ng loob mo isisigaw mo sa kawalan," paliwanag ko. "Parang ganito: Baguioooo! Ba't ang tanga ko?! Bakit ako umakyat kung kelan may bagyo?!" Para kang baliw habang halos gumulong ka kakatawa. "Alam mo Walayon, gusto kitang iuwi sa'min. P'wede?" "Baka may magalit!" biro ko. "Magpapalam muna ako," sabi mo. Humakbang ka palapit sa harang na naghihiwalay mula sa lupa at kawalan, saka ka sumigaw. "Vincent! May bago akong kaibigan! Iuuwi ko s'ya sa Bulacan ha?" Minasdan lang kita habang ginagawa 'yon, niyayakap ng hamog ang nakangiti mong mukha. ----- "Sino si Vincent?" di ko mapigilang itanong, matapos ang ilang oras. Pinili pa rin nating maglakad pabalik ng hotel kahit na buong araw na tayong nagiikot sa malamig na siyudad. "Ang una at huling lalaking mamahalin ko." sagot mo habang sinisipa sipa ang tubig na dumadaloy pababa sa gilid ng daan. "Ah, bakit di mo s'ya kasama ngayon?" "Madaya kasi 'yong gagong 'yon." napahinto ako nang bigla kang umupo sa gilid ng daan. Sinara ko ang payong, at tumabi sayo. Tila nakisama ang gabi dahil unti-unti, tumigil ang ambon. "May trabaho s'ya?" "Nang-iwan s'ya," nawala ang ngiti na maghapon kong nakita. "Two months ago, sumakay s'ya ng kotse para ibili ako ng bulaklak sa Tagaytay habang bumabagyo..tapos di na s'ya nakabalik." "I'm sorry.." "'Yung flower arrangement lang ang hindi nawasak nong gabi na 'yon." napapailing mong sabi, nakatingin sa kawalan, at sa tubig galing bundok na patuloy na tumatakbo pababa. "Sabi ng mga tao sa baba, kaya ko raw yon. Makakalimot din daw ako, makakamove on din daw ako. Magiging masaya raw ako ulit. E gago ba sila?" inis mong sabi habang gigil na pinatitigil ang ulan sa mga mata mo. "Sino bang may sabing gusto ko makalimot? Na magmomove-on ako? Mabubuhay ako, sige. Pero huwag na nila akong pilitin na maging masaya ulit." "Mahal ka nila kaya gusto nilang maging masaya ka. Hindi rin naman gugustuhin ni Vincent na makita kang malung-- "I know. I know. Hindi nya gugustuhin. But happiness is I choice and I'm not choosing it." Desidido ka, at estranghero ako sayo. Sino ako para sabihin sayo na mali ang ginagawa mo? "Naiinis ka na ba sa'kin?" halo ang luha at nakakaunawang ngiti sayo habang tinatanong ako."Okay lang yan. Alam kong napaka-illogical, unreasonable, immature ko." "Hindi lahat ng dahilan mo naiintindihan ko. Pero nirerespeto kita." Wala nang salita hanggang makabalik tayo sa tinutuluyan natin. Habang nakatingin ako sa kisame ng kwarto ko, pinagdarasal kong sana mahimbing ka na. Isa man lang sa ating dalawa, makatulog ng matiwasay ngayong gabi. ---- "Good morning! Saan tayo--teka, saan ka pupunta?" Kita ko kung paanong naglaho ang malawak mong ngiti nang buksan ko ang pinto ng kwarto ko, habang hawak ko ng ticket sa bus at nakasukbit ang malaki kong bag. "Pauwi na ako." Ilang minuto ang lumipas na nakatayo lang tayo sa hallway. Di ko maipaliwanag ang itsura mo at ang sarili ko. "Okay..so, ano, papunta ka nang terminal n'yan?" tumango lang ako sayo. "Hatid na kita." Hindi ko alam kung anong mas mabigat habang naglalakad tayo; ang bitbit ko ba o ang loob ko. Hindi ko rin alam kung bakit naging mabilis ang oras at nakita ko nalang ang sarili kong paakyat na muli ng bus. "Salamat, Walayon." bulong mo. Ngumiti ako sayo habang ginugulo ang buhok mo. "Mag-ingat ka lagi. At kung hindi mo man magawang maging masaya ulit, kahit gustuhin mo lang na gumising ulit kinabukasan tuwing gabi, masaya na ako no'n para sayo." Pinigilan ko ang sarili kong lingunin ka nang makaakyat na ako sa loob. Pero sa huli, natalo rin ako. Katulad ng siyudad kung saan tayo unang nagtagpo, katulad kung paano kita unang nakita dito tatlong araw na ang nakakaraan, lumuluhang imahe mo ang naging huling larawan ng siyudad sa mga mata ko habang unti-unting umaandar ang sasakyan. --- "Taxi sir? Saan po kayo?" Matapos ang anim na oras saka ko lang napagtagpi tagpi ang lahat. Mga ala-ala na pinilit kong itaboy habang pauwi. Payong. Susi. Ikaw. Beer. Ulan. Ako. Libro. Taho. Bulaklak. Taxi. Tawa. Luha. Si Vincent. Ikaw. Ako. Pero masyado na tayong malayo sa isa't isa, kaya 'di mo na siguro malalaman na dito, daan daang kilometro mula sa'yo, umiiyak ang langit. Pati na rin ako.

[clarisseinao]

Cheap death

For more than a year now, I’ve been spending most of my time here in this city, Makati. Last January, I made one of the biggest decisions I’ve ever made and that is to pack my things and move here. It was not easy and until now, I still experience once in a while homesickness. It’s hard to be far away from my family, but whenever I feel that ache of longing, I remind myself why I’m here. I chose this, I want this, and I need this. With that thought, I get by. My family, too. It’s a routine; whenever I have free time, I always call my mother. It’s just like how we used to do back when I still go back and forth from the province to Makati every day. I’ll talk and she’ll listen. I’ll tell her about the people I met, the places I go, everything even the most mundane ones. I’ll never forget that night, few weeks ago. I had issues with my phone and I came home late to our condo, so I was a bit in panic when my sister told me that mama was crying. I called her and the first thing I heard from her was a faint sob. Then she told me how worried they were about me, how they felt fear when they saw a news about a woman shot allegedly due to mistaken identity. “Anak, magiingat ka lagi d’yan. Delikado na mas’yado. Mag-ingat ka.” she repeatedly told me. Of course, what would a daughter do but calm her anxious mother. I assured her I’m fine, that the place I’m staying at is generally safe, that I’m cautious. It took me a while reassuring her over and over and some jokes for me to hear again her laugh. I did my best to stay away from that topic. We ended the conversation on a lighter note.But it haunted me. It made me think about the level of truthfulness in my assurance to her. And this chilly morning, while I was walking towards our office, I felt fear. Something that’s been a while since the last time I felt. I hate the doubt that crept unto me towards everyone around while I was walking, even to the old man standing at a corner. I remember how I used to smile at people I meet on the streets, or look at them with ease. But now, I found myself looking straight ahead, keeping my bag close to me, heart beating faster than usual when motorcycles, vehicles are passing by. Working with a media organization made me more aware of how things can turn unexpectedly. There was a woman shot while she’s inside a jeep in a broad daylight. There was a guy who was almost arrested at an LRT station because he looks like one of the previous pushers arrested in that area. Road rage killings, rape, verbal abuses. They happen. They are everywhere. How did we ended up counting deaths like this? When did we become apathetic towards each other? Why do we have to have these kinds of collateral damages for the sake of a peaceful society we’re not even sure if will exist in the future? It’s disheartening to realize how life’s value is becoming lesser and lesser these days. Some people believe that drug pushers deserve to die. That this purging is justifiable when you look at the data of deaths due to drug addiction. While I believe that these drug addicts deserve what the law says about their cases. And that requires a process to properly identify what is the right punishment for them. Do we even realize, that by allowing these things to happen, we are turning into the kind of monsters we are afraid of? Do we even acknowledge the possibility that while we are walking one night on our way home, someone can show up and shoot us out of nowhere? And in the morning, some may conclude easily about us, call us names we never thought we’ll hear, that, if we will survive the attack. But if we’ll not, we will probably end up as contribution to the growing list. Our family will try to clean our names, defend us over and over but their voices will just be faint sounds in this loud world of prejudice. The thing about counting the deaths connected to war against drugs is people would ask you why you are doing that. They will question your morality, your values, and will even accuse you of defending drug addiction. It’s sad to note that they don’t realize the value of listing down and opening the eyes of the masses regarding this. For me, the kill list, the 'Pieta', the news we watch every night, these are not being shown to turn the public sympathy around. For me, they are grim reminders, a preview of the kind of culture we can expect in the coming days if we allow these kinds of deaths to happen over and over. I still firmly believe that we can still prevent this cheap death culture. Where drug addicts kill people, people kill drug addicts, all happening while in warehouses, huts, apartments, streets, the real evil stays alive; white, burning, destroying.

[clarisseinao]

I need to let this out

More than 24 hours ago, I woke up alone in a condo I am sharing with my friend here in Makati. It was a normal Sunday, just like the past ones. The sun was seeping inside through the blinds, our dream catcher hanging with the white curtains. I walked towards the table, checked my phone, just like how I normally do everytime I wake up. Whatsapp, Viber, Kakao, message from the laundromat, Twitter. I believe I was still half-asleep while I was browsing my notifications. A minute later, I was fully awake, heart beating so fast, eyes crying so hard I almost tripped running towards the bed. I remember the words ‘prayers’, ‘Anong nangyari?’, curses, and names of my friends who I seldom see since high school graduation but will always, always have a special spot in my heart. Then James, the guy I was just talking with virtually few days ago about France versus Gilas, the guy who cheered with me during good ‘ol Purefoods/San Mig Coffee Mixers days, the guy who thought I was mad at him back in college he avoided me for a year. Earnest said he was gone. I remember staring at the wall, I can physically feel my heart breaking, and it was so hard to understand and process everything all at once. To continuously browse my feed filled with virtual tears and questions and worry about the others who were with him inside the car. I remember not knowing what to do I ended up calling my mother, sobbing, telling her how much it hurts to lose a friend, to realize that I was supposed to be with them, that I was an email away from being with them inside that now-wrecked-car who took away James from us. Even until now, it’s still painful. Even until now, I can’t stop myself looking at the time, heart full with worry because Dave is still in critical condition, Karla and Sara are still in the hospital and Jhullie, Lauren and Ralph, I know they’re physically okay but the trauma is harder to bear. What makes it worse is this is not the first time I lost a dear friend. The wounds Jobelle left, a college friend who took the easy way out last year, are still fresh. The horror of knowing he was gone the day of our graduation ceremonies is still vivid. Up until now, to remember that day is still bittersweet. James and Jobelle. They are two different persons with two different stories on how they left us but pain doesn’t have layers and labels, it doesn’t acknowledge reasons or stories. To know that I will never see them again no matter how much I wanted to, that I will never hear their laughs, that all we have right now are memories we have with them, to describe how it feels like is beyond words. Right now, I’m still asking; aren’t we too young to lose a friend this way? Aren’t we too young to experience this? We are supposed to see each other during reunions and weddings and birthdays and all those happy occasions. We are not supposed to be calling each other, asking when are we going to visit a friend’s funeral. Aren’t we too young? I stand amidst this city’s sounds and people, looking up, looking around, searching for someone who will give me the answers. Wondering if I’ll get them, I will be able to sleep soundly later, not like how I did last night; lights on, fear, and tears until I feel asleep. Whoever is reading this, I’m asking for prayers. Pray for my friends who are still in the hospitals. Pray for our batch, so young, with lives full of promises ahead of us, but now with a casualty. And James, please pray for him.

[clarisseinao]

Long overdue hiatus

Today, I decided to run away from all these virtual noise. I knew I am bound to do this. All these months of non-stop scrolling up and down my Facebook feeds woke up the inner monster in me. The trolls, which I hated for being judgmental, headline-readers, close-minded people, made me into a person just like them. And I hate that fact. I hate the truth that while I'm trying to be different from them, I become just like them. I found myself having these lines of limits; someone who gets angry in just few seconds, someone who curse the cursing, someone who hate the hate. Isn't it ironic? Today, I decided to run away. It's hard when it's part of your job, to monitor all these online noise these people are making. But I have to do this, I don't want to be the person I promised myself I will never be.

[clarisseinao]

From everyday posts, to frequent, to occasional, to silence. But I owe this blog so much, so I might as well look back and give back. Let’s have a round-up. ---- It’s hard to realize changes by just comparing yesterday to what you have today. You’ll only see too familiar people, same things infront of you, same problems, same sentiments. It feels like each morning is just a deja vu of what already happened in the past. Like we’re just running around a circle over and over. But browsing this blog made me see the opposites. I found out that I’m not the same girl who wrote the posts here years ago. Reading the past leters and phrases and sentences here, I slowly grasped the reality that the person writing this post now, is far too different from who I was back then. --- On Adulting Same old story, but to be inside it, is such an eye-opening experience. When I was in college, many times in the past, I hear former collegues who already graduated say how hard it is to be an adult. After spending half of their lives inside the vicinity and comfort of schools, with finance barely an issue because parents are there to save the day, to step outside and be on your own is the kind of reality they admit they will never be ready for. I’ve heard it all; stories of walking to work, eating once a day, telling the parents they’re alright when the truth is, they’re really not, the pressure of becoming someone independent enough it pay the bills, it goes on and on. There are jobs out there that is considered noble than practical. There are jobs that pay the bills, but robbing you the life you ought to live. Some will really fulfill you, some will just give you the material things for you to think that they are. But no matter what work you are facing every single day of your life, I know that sometimes, we’re all on a same page of this book we call life; this part where we all silently look for an escape. Because somehow, amidst the fun and shits, it’s really really tiring. --- What a time to be part of the media. I’m going to tell you how the newsroom is going lately. First, you wouldn’t want to be here. There are times when I just wanted to go home, not because I’m too lazy to work, but because it’s so heartbreaking to witness the mixed sadness-rage of the people here. To see them labor for almost 24 hours to produce content and perform the mandate given by the people as the 4th state, the same people who spat the most horrible, unacceptable, words back to them. There are moments when I wanted to tell them ‘How about we just stop?’. Sometimes, the level of unworthiness of some Filipinos is just too much. To be at the receiving end of the ungratefulness is unbearable. Yet, it’s encouraging and admirable to see them continue doing what we must do, to fight back when it’s necessary, to be patient when the world is giving them all the reasons not to, to be the people they need to be. The amount of respect and understanding I see in these people is so unbelievable. I’m writing this now while sitting at one of the spots where you can almost see the whole newsroom. I can see the editors dutifully editing the articles which will later receive hurtful comments, I can see the artists and photogs producing works and photos to give life to the products which later on, will just be called 'trash’ by some people. I can see our executive editor, walking back and forth, checking everyone and pausing once in a while in silence. I’m too young to decipher what’s the meaning of his stares at the ground, his faraway looks, but all I can do is to guess. He’s probably thinking about tomorrow; what is the best way to make the people understand the current situations in our country. Or he may be forming the best strategy to inform them what matters to them. I want to approach him and say, “Sir, don’t bother. No matter what we do, some will still refuse to accept what we offer.” But knowing him, knowing this institution, I know we will not stop. The president may be stubborn, but we are, too. ---- “I’ve always been the girl outside the circle.” Today, I realized how much truth there is whenever I say this.

[clarisseinao]

omg, someone dedicated a blog to me. Birthday feels flooded again. Thanks Regina!

3 Don‘ts in Loving a Writer

**This blog post is inspired by my college friend, Clarisse, so thank you Bes! Your note makes me ponder more on how unique would loving a writer be. This one is dedicated to you. <3 Advance Happy Birthday!

1. DON’T LOVE HER IF YOU ARE NOT PATIENT. She will always have a busy schedule ahead, appointments to catch up, deadlines to meet and still she has to give room for herself to breath after a long, exhausting day. She will write stories in the middle of the night, read books at past midnight, spill her emotions on her blog at 3 o'clock in the morning, and sleep when her heart and thoughts were finally at ease.

Don’t love her if you’re not patient enough to wait for her messages at night. She’ll share you stuffs about how her day went on, on how she felt after reading that book, or simply how she was thinking of you while she’s at work. Don’t love her if you’re not patient enough to read lengthy messages that have so much emotion in it, you would only see love on every word she had said. Because that’s just her: she has lots of ideas and countless thoughts, and because she loves you, she can’t wait to tell you about it all. She can’t wait to open her heart and mind to the man she loves most.

2. DON’T LOVE HER IF YOU ARE JEALOUS. She will meet different people, feeling the need to connect to the world as much as possible; She wants to understand the psyche or human interaction; she wants to embrace these people with her heart open and heart bleeding with genuine emotions. She will have new friends, increasing those new names whom you haven’t seen yet. Her friends would give her books on her birthday and whenever she’ll read those books, she’ll fall in love with its male characters and reflect on what kind of man does she need and doesn’t need.

Don’t love her if think that her world revolves around you and that you should be the only man whom she should have an interaction with. Don’t love her if you can’t place your confidence on her love for you or if you can’t trust how she handles her connections with people. Don’t love her if you are not him, because she’ll realize that her world had fallen apart when the time comes that you left her, just because your trust wasn’t enough to support her.

DON’T LOVE HER IF YOU DON’T APPRECIATE THE LITTLE THINGS. She’s not the wealthiest woman in the world, but even if she is, she won’t waste a penny buying you a book when she can write you a day-to-day record of your journey together. She won’t exert an effort buying you that card either, because she’ll write you love poems and love letters, and she’ll even write you a story with you as her main character. She won’t bother buying a cake for you, because she’ll choose to learn how to bake it herself and even if she doesn’t, she’ll create a makeshift cake out of graham crackers instead. She’ll write you a song even if she can’t sing, she’ll dance for you even if she both have left foot since birth. She will do crazy things to make you smile - the craziest, tiniest things that only an eye of an appreciative person could see.

So don’t love her if you expect something big from her, because for a writer, it’s the tiniest details that matter most.

“Love is patient. Love is kind. It doesn’t envy, it doesn’t boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered. It keeps on record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails,” - 1 Corinthians 13: 4-8

[clarisseinao]

-Find You, Zedd

[clarisseinao]

The Day I Begged the Heavens for you to find ‘the’ Girl You Told Me I will Never Be

It was not a dramatic day, I’m telling you. No rain, no tears, no wide space to stare at to add melancholy to my already hopeless being. You might laugh if you’ll find out where I was when I finally let you go. No, scratch that. I didn’t let you go because you’re not mine at the first place. It was swift, sudden, and not the way I expected it would be. It didn’t happen theatrically. The thought came like how ordinary ideas are coming to me; I was walking along Ayala Avenue, one ordinary afternoon of May, when I finally told myself to let the idea of ‘you and me’ go. You see, it is not everyday that I was given a chance to be at Makati. Or even Manila. Growing up in the province of Bulacan, I was used to travel the familiar roads of Malolos, Guiguinto and once in a while, Balagtas. But Makati? There must be a special reason why you will find me there. I was warned that Makati is a confusing maze of tall buildings and establishments especially to probinsyanas like me. People told me to be wary of so many people walking around, that foreigners are usual sightings, and Starbucks are like convenience stores right around every junction. But of course, words are just words, warnings are just warnings.I have this firm belief that for you to fully grasp the place, you must be there. You must see, hear, smell, feel, and taste it. I was right. People are right. Makati was a bit overwhelming. I reached the building where my supposed to be job interview will be held. Although puzzling, I managed to find my way there without bothering too many people. Google Maps was also cooperative. When I stepped inside the office of the company I am applying to, I was awed by so many employees working there because I thought the firm was small. It was not; floor was bustling with the sounds of people, keyboards, computers and air-conditioning units working. The interview went well; I accomplished the tasks given to me. I bid the Human Resource personnel goodbye and went out. Maybe because I am too occupied finding the building of the company that it was just while on my way home that I had the opportunity to appreciate the place more. I might be too idealistic because it is not everyday that I am witnessing the place, but while walking along Ayala, I felt a certain kind of want in me to be there. Like this place was waiting for me for such a long time. Dreams and plans flooded. And then I remember you. How you told me once that I will never be ‘the’ girl; the girl who grew up in the kind of environment you have, the girl who knows how to act in every situation, the girl who knows her way in, out and around Manila. I remember how you made me feel so small, so unable, to fit in the city. Yet I did. I might not be born as urban-girl, but I managed to put myself like I was one. I survived Makati, one of the most challenging cities in the metro. I survived and went home whole and full of hopes. While walking down Ayala, I finally let go. And right there, tall buildings around me, I begged the heavens for you to finally find that girl; the urban-girl-since-birth one that will fulfill your ideals. Being there in the middle of the busy metropolis, I learned that I will never be confident everywhere I go because of the idea that someone will always be there to save me; yet I’d rather get lost once in a while and figure things out on my own. I will never be that someone that can walk around the city even if she closes her eyes, yet I’d rather do a lot of mistakes, start over and over while keeping the place a mystery to me. You were right when you said that I will never be ‘that’ kind of girl. And I realized I never wanted to become one anyway.

[clarisseinao]

Hi ate :) ang galing nyo po:) malayo po ang mararating nyo, mga hanggang tacloban ganern, ha-ha-ha. God Bless po! Padayon!

Oh, hello there. It’s been a while since I checked my inbox kaya pasensya ka na kung ‘di ako agad nakareply. But anyway, thank you for reading my stuff. Sana nga, makarating ako ng Tacloban. :D

[clarisseinao]

Nang tumibok ang ga-kamaong laman sa loob ng kaliwang bahagi ng dibdib ko para sa'yo tila bumuhay ako ng makina ng isang kotse sa kalagitnaan ng maulang Biyernes at dumiretso doon sa EDSA kung saan ako naipit sa buhol buhol na damdamin at kalat kalat na kasinungalingan Nakakainip. Nakakapagod. Parang wala nang pag-asa. Kailan ako tuluyang makakauwi? (credits to the owner of the photo)

[clarisseinao]

-The Scientist, Coldplay

[clarisseinao]

It's tragic yet funny somehow, to see the way everyone is desperately trying to tell everyone else how they wanted to be loved, treated. They put everything into words, into lists, into step-by-step process; a subtle way of informing the world to be gentle. We filter people by different aspects; carefully picking those who we think will fit our standards. Then we leave everyone else out of our zone, shutting them out, fearing that they will just harm us. It's a cruel system of fear that only resulted with people constantly shoving other people away. But the simple truth is: we just don't want to be hurt. We don't really care if someone will lack of something we like, or if they fail once in a while as long as they are not hurting, damaging us. People just don't want to be hurt by others. Simple, right? Yet unfortunately, even if it's simple, it's one of the hardest things to avoid.

[clarisseinao]

Demonetized

Process is cold. Sometimes, it's evil. It does not sympathize. It doesn't give consideration. It only follows what is supposed to be followed. When the process calls for cutting, it cuts. When it calls for letting the blood ooze, it will be. If the process asks for the the heart to be removed, for the memory to be erased, to punch, to wound, to destroy, to damage, to kill in order to be called successful, it will. Look at those money, those bills that you'll risk everything to be yours. Then, the law demands that those money should be demonetized. Slowly, they will lose its value. Because a process told the world that it should. One day, you'll stop caring for those bills. You wouldn't even lift a finger to save those worthless piece of papers if ever a gush of wind took them away. Demonetized. Then I remember how from doing everything to save me from myself, you turn into a devil I never thought you would be. From saving me from everything into saving yourself by hurting me. There was no process, wasn't there? No one forced you to hurt me. You just chose to do it and you did.

[clarisseinao]

Sometimes, I feel like I was born in a wrong era. I longed for the past my grandparents are fond of telling me about. Those days when personal feelings are so sacred that one has to bear too much inner-struggle before he can express himself to another person. That period of time when love is a process and not an overrated word everyone uses at any cause. I wished I was lucky enough to witness how people valued the words 'I love you' back then, with purity, how they say it with so much honesty and how each of those three words were uttered with overwhelming truth. Because 'I love you' should never be used as a lie, as an excuse, as a reward, nor for fun. Because it's supposed to be said at the time when you really mean it the most. Think about it: if someone can lie about the amount of love he has for you, then how much can he lie on you about other things?