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THE SEMIDARKNESS The gods reveal themselves at the fall of the twilight curtain.
All creatures let go of everything that binds them
And turn their gaze at the sunward blaze.
Out of the nightfall’s flame, silence follows.
Stars carry on the show
And wait for the Moon to unveil the daybreak.
Oh, Mystic Earth, was there ever a spectacle as grand as this?
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I love the ephemeral - that brief phase when light is about to be born and about to die. To walk freely in this strikingly tamed nature has been my refuge from the constant murmur of work deadlines hammering the mind. For a moment, life is freed from the juggernaut roar of work demands and is replaced by the gentle sound of my footwear as it touches the pavements and dirt roads among the weather-beaten landscapes (and seascapes) that bear witness to the unruly and tranquil character of nature. These moments are too short to experience the fleeting stillness in the present and I feel that so much beauty of old things is passing away. So, before they finally collapse, let me stand here transfixed and stupefied.
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When I miss home…
I think of the cold air sweeping through my face in a stormy August afternoon.
I think of the mist rising from the field in the cold mornings of May.
I think of the endless chill brought about by the cold front in the early months of the first quarter.
I think of the occasional warmth of the afternoon hues after a brief drizzle.
I think of the tiny droplets through the glass window on rainy days waiting to be vandalized by a grade-schooler.
I think of the stillness...
and vitality blending beautifully before the bare blue heavens.
I see from horizon to horizon the clouds dancing on the beat of the wind.
I think of the citizens of the sky – the moon, the sun, and the stars and I look at them unapologetically.
There is no shame in admiring.
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NATATANDAAN MO PA BA, INUKIT KONG PUSO SA PUNONG MANGA...
It was a job to assist NHK (Japan Broadcasting Corporation) for a TV documentary entitled “Under The Mango Tree”.
It is about the plight of Japanese civilians in the Philippines during the World War II most notably during the evacuation period.
As such, we need to conduct research from local people who can recall encounters with Japanese civilians, especially women and children.
At the same time, the local interviewees also shared their war experiences including their thoughts and feelings toward the Japanese and the war in general.
This was followed by location hunting where we were tasked to trace the places described by Japanese civilian survivors during their stay in the Philippines. The final phase of the work was the shooting proper.
The title of this documentary speaks of Japanese civilians’ fond experiences in the country most remarkably under the mango trees. Such is the reason why we kept searching for the best mango trees for an excellent visual for the documentary.
Little did we know that locals have taken serious interest of the places where we’ve searched for mango trees. And because we were with Japanese crew, it can’t be helped that we were suspected of tracing “Yamashita Treasure” (haha!).
Sometimes we’d hear locals giving remarks about treasures not realizing that we can understand what they were saying. We can only quietly laugh about their speculations. But it did come to the point that it kind of gets into the nerve until eventually, we got used to it that we no longer have to explain ourselves and simply let people speculate.
I can only look back and laugh at those. The work has been a superb learning opportunity to spoil it with trivialities. There’s just too many good about this filming experience.
It has been a wonderful time being around these people. I would love to do it again.
For other narrative about this experience,click this.
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nineteen forty-five
I was enjoined for this job not knowing exactly what I need to accomplish but because it is a job that involves the outdoor, this ever curious Aplai blood running through my veins toppled down my shy Ibaloy nature for a chance of another learning experience. I tried my best to be useful :).
It was the second pre-production phase where the task involves location hunting. The first pre-production phase where I wasn’t able to join due to another work commitment was a historical research where my teammates, Dave and Rainel, were involved.
We set off on Election Day where everyone in the team was called “bogus”, a Filipino term for a person who stopped exercising his/her privilege to vote.
We took the road from La Trinidad to Atok and down to Bokod and ended in Ifugao, with several stops along the way to check the areas mentioned during the research phase. Much, if not all, of the places mentioned have significantly changed since the end of the WWII. (It reminded me of a sentiment I wrote years ago about times gone by. Click this for link)
The task was enjoyable and challenging at the same time. It involves trying to recreate imageries.
The hot and rainy weather was a welcome experience, and the long hours of walking 'til dark in the mountains and hunger felt were appreciated because it allowed us to understand the lives of the war evacuees, even if it’s only a minor of a fraction from their real experiences during the WWII.
The awe we felt when we saw a multitude of fireflies around a tree as we were trudging in the dark was incomparable. I hope the evacuees during those times found solace in those tiny flickering lights.
There were also some repeat of interviews during this time which enabled me to catch up with what I missed during the first phase of this project.
During one of those idle moments, Dave blurted that in 5 years’ time, all our sources of information about the WWII will only be from literature. This sentiment came about due to our difficulty of finding people who can still talk about their personal war experiences. It is a sad fact, and the least we can do is to try our best to record stories of our elders for every given opportunity.
This is because listening to war stories isn’t only about knowing who won and lost in the battlefield. Sometimes, you’d be surprised to know how the opposing forces helped each other survive during the war, how another victim could still empathize with the “enemy”, or how they could view their foe in a pitiful state when they themselves were drenched in the same mud as their adversary.
War, it brings out the worst and the best in people.
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with this weather, I could sit here all day
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B A C K P A C K. It’s every traveler’s true friend, a drifter’s only property, and a wanderer’s only home.
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If Philippines is my house, Batanes would be my withdrawing room. It is the part of the house reserved for private affairs and worthy people. I’d like to keep it as frugal as it is yet comforting and sophisticated with its neatness and naturalness.
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MT. IRAYA, BATANES
Our fourth day and last stay in Batanes was reserved for climbing Mt. Iraya (at least in my personal itinerary). I was awoken at 1:30 am and couldn’t get back to sleep while getting worried that I might not be able to push through with the trek because the guide who is supposed to contact us, as told by DENR when we secured for permit the day before the trek, hasn’t made any message yet. The trek is supposed to start at 6:00 am. By 5:00 am, I received a call from DENR that our guide will come to fetch us at 5:30 am. With very limited time to prepare, we took what’s left of our biscuits which were reserved for snacks. By 6:00 am we were already at the jump-off point. As our group’s pace is being weighed, it was already clear that my companions (family members) will have to be left behind and may take their time at their own pace and may decide to go back as they wish. I and Rufo, our guide, have proceeded with a much faster pace. As we were ascending, I was a bit relieved upon learning that my guide hasn’t eaten his breakfast too and have only received the order for guideship at around 4:00 am. At least I don’t feel so bad for my mountaineering gaffe of not having eaten my breakfast. Unfortunately, I only have half-liter water and 3 packs of Skyflakes biscuits for my sustenance, the rest of the food was with my companions. I asked Rufo how long does it usually take for climbers to complete the hike. He said that on average climbers spend around 3.5 to 4 hours ascending. Time spent descending is usually the same as the time consumed ascending so that if hikers start at 6:00 am they usually finish at around past 12 noon to 2:00 pm. I was worried that my provision would not sustain me that long so I kept up with Rufo’s pacing before my stomach starts complaining. Midway, it started to rain hard but only for a brief period. We waited for the rain to abate under a lush canopy before resuming. By 8:00 am, we were already at the 2nd “shoulder” (peak) before the final peak. By then, I have already consumed 2 packs of Skyflakes and one-third of my water supply. After a 5-min. breather, we proceeded to take the final leg of assault. According to Rufo, the path to the last peak is 76 degrees steep. It was a non-stop climb where it almost felt like climbing a wall. The struggle was real for a short-legged person like me. At 8:15, we were able to reach the peak, enclosed with fog. I told Rufo that he should eat his breakfast too. He told me that we better choose a spot so that while eating and the sky clears up, we could have a glimpse of the scenery as these are momentary episodes. As we settled for what constitutes our meal, the fog suddenly unveiled a lush scenery and a seemingly infinite body of water right before us. I’d like to think that the mountain has accepted my visit when the fog cleared up as not all climbers get this opportunity. We spent 20 minutes at the peak before descending. Going back was equally challenging with the slippery and narrow paths requiring long strides. Back to the hotel when Rufo came to fetch us, he asked me if it was my first time to climb mountains and I told him no. He followed it up by inquiring the number of mountains that I have climbed already and because I wasn’t prepared for any statistics, I simply said, I have not counted. He must have gotten the impression that I was a hard-core mountaineer so when we were ascending, he was quite fast. I told him that I am usually faster with downhill rather than uphill so that on our way back he was literally very fast. It dawned on me if it was me who is keeping up with his pace or was it him thinking to keep up with me? I haven’t been so demanding the whole time and kept up with him so I was thinking that maybe he thought I was a real mountaineer. Well anyway, we were able to reach the jump-off point after one hour and 20 minutes of descent. This was probably one of my fastest and most challenging treks. On our ride back to the hotel, I made it clear to Rufo that my work requires trekking mountains where we need to carry equipment, food, cooking ware, and tent. He seemed to understand and said that “mahirap din pala trabaho ninyo.” Rufo wished me well before leaving and seemingly happy that he finished his work quite early than the usual. In fact, it was the fastest trek he had. I, too, feel good for being able to outpace myself and that I will have more time to visit the beach before finally leaving the island. It was only 10:30 am and I am starving to death.
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The meandering road that leads to the home of inhabitants of the known earth is long and humid. Untouched by the influences of colonizers, Ifugao is one of Cordillera’s pride having been endowed with unique culture and tradition. It’s a small town with so much to offer.
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