go ahead, make my day...

i should've kept all the materials request forms submitted by our project foreman and painters. i could've put them all in an album so i can look at them whenever i need a smile. or for reference, in case i want something renovated or constructed.

imagine sending this list by fax to a hardware:

tintin color (sometimes tinking color)
laquer futty (sometimes laquer fatty)
tape lone tape
pinching nails # 3
1 quark tiner
maski tape
sandy paper #200
bebi roller
1 gallon litex
epoxy frimer (or epoxy firmer)
splatwal enamel
akritekscas
polyuretrain varnis
lid primer
fatching compound (or fetching compound)
palsolax glasing fatty
simi glass enamel
die wire
fly bord / plybrode
ambrela nile
tokskrow
expansion volt
electring tape
1 sack elfsand

but the best list i got was this particular reimbursement request which read:

floorwax..............................68.00
walis tambo(broom).................35.00
cleanser...............................18.00
detergent.............................24.00
poem..................................11.00

poem? what the hell is this reimbursement for a poem for? have i even heard it? i never knew our maintenance person had this talent for literature. and she was charging me for something she had written. it turned out that this "poem" was actually "foam" -- for washing dishes.

santa ana de sapa

Sta. Ana is a district of the city of Manila located at the southwest banks of the Pasig river, bounded on the northeast by Mandaluyong City, Makati City to the east, southwest of Paco and west of Pandacan. before it became Sta. Ana, it was called "Namayan" -- a small settlement that was ruled by Lakan Tagkan and his wife Buwan (meaning moon).

the muslim kingdom's domain stretched from what is now Mandaluyong, Makati, Pasay and the Manila districts of Pandacan and Paco. when the spaniards acquired the territory (what is now Sta. Ana) that served as the seat of “Namayan”, the area was awarded to franciscan missionaries.

when the catholic missionaries asked the natives the name of the area, pointing to the banks of the Pasig River, the locals responded with “sapa” or the tagalog word for marshes. the Franciscan missionaries henceforth dedicated the district to St. Anne, the mother of the Blessed Virgin Mary and called it, “Santa Ana de Sapa,” or Saint Anne of the Marshes.

i remember my grandfather telling me that "Lamayan" (a long curving street that starts from Plaza Hugo stretching up to the foot of Lambingan Bridge) actually came from "Namayan".
at the foot of Lambingan Bridge used to be a vast vegetable garden. we prefer buying some of our greens from there -- cheaper and freshly pulled from the soil. the garden has long been gone and in it's place are hundreds of aratiles trees.

Plaza Hugo, (considered as the center of activities) is surrounded by old houses with wide capiz windows and which have been converted into commercial spaces.
from the side of Lamayan street is a "simbahan ng intsik" (as they call it) located just across Sta. Ana church. i used to think it was a candle store until a grade six classmate told me they make offerings there every chinese new year.
we have streets called Old Panaderos and New Panaderos separated by a long strip of residential structures. it probably was a place of bakers during the spanish period, but there aren't any bakers there now. Old Panaderos is now a row of enormous factories facing Pasig River. New Panaderos is where public and private cars pass going to Mandaluyong.
at the corner of the Old & New Panaderos (coming from Pedro Gil formerly Herran) is Embarcadero street (named as such because the street runs along the path of the seawall), the dead-end of which used to be Bonifacio Bros (a motor company, maybe), now a printing press.
Sta. Ana's most popular landmark then was the Santa Ana Cabaret (the world's biggest dance hall) along Tejeron street. i think it burned down in the late 50s. i've often heard my aunt say: "ay, baylarina ako! dati akong dancer sa Sta. Ana Cabaret!" (i was a dancer at Sta Ana Cabaret) each time someone would ask her how she was able to raise eight children on her own. i would secretly look at her from head to toe, imagining how she might have looked like all dressed and made up for a ball. all the while, i really thought she was (a baylarina, that is).
former middle class houses along Lamayan street have been converted into factories (i.e. garments, native products), with most of the original owners preferring to live in exclusive subdivisions or abroad.


walking around Sta. Ana, Manila is like leafing through a book on history and architecture. you can guess which houses were built round about the same time because of it's design.


an old pansiteria used to stand at the corner of Calderon and Suter Ext. streets called "Eng Nga's Pansiteria", whose specialty was of course miki-bihon guisado (stir-fried egg & rice noodles with vegetables, tokwa, quiquiam and pork) and gising-gising (sayote/chayote, baguio beans & cabbage cooked with pork and hot green pepper). it was a typical old chinese resto where customers sit back to back separated by a wooden board. on the blurred and scratched glass counters were round bar stools standing on thick metal pipes cemented on the ground. on the few occasions i ate there, i would look up and watch the big, old 3-blade ceiling fan (which was probably as old as the pansiteria itself) while waiting for my order. despite its dingy appearance, it was always filled with customers -- old timers mostly who pass the afternoon away drinking beer over lechon kawali and the famous gising-gising.


i don't think i ever saw the chinese man Eng Nga, but i do remember his Filipina wife Aling Glo. eventually, the pansiteria was renovated around 2004. probably to keep up with the other establishments in the vicinity which is slowly being populated by internet shops. they had the whole place repainted and the floors tiled, the old chairs and tables replaced by modern ones -- it looked bright and a lot cleaner. but maybe there are things better left the way it was for not soon after, Eng Nga's Pansiteria closed. i guess part of its allure came from the pansiteria's appearance which stood out amongst the modern structures. a miki-bihon guisado cooked from Eng Nga's kitchen seemed to be more authentic and delicious than anywhere else. later, a convenience/drug store occupied it for three or four months before it presently became an internet gaming shop.

along M. Roxas street is a dilapidated structure which i found out, used to be Margarita Roxas de Ayala Elementary School. it now houses several sari-sari stores and pet shops.


the Manuel de la Fuente High School building at the rotunda is now vacant, save for the twenty or more families squatting on it. it has transferred it's quarters along Inviernes street.


at the corner of Havana and Calderon streets is the ruins of what used to be an old school named Havana Elementary School. by the shape of it's doors, i think it must've been built during the spanish period. it has been vacant ever since i can remember.


a particular old house along Lamayan street (just across the mansion) has always been a favorite venue for tagalog movies till now.

i was born and raised in Sta. Ana. it used to be an old neighborhood with quiet streets and big, old houses -- middle class, i guess (we had neighbors of spanish descent). and it was not as congested as it is now. i remember wide, open spaces and trees everywhere. the streets have now become a haven for tricycles and pedicabs, with stations at almost every intersection.

the place i grew up in has changed a lot since then. new structures, unfamiliar faces everywhere. seeing these old structures somehow reminds me that it is still the Sta. Ana i knew decades ago.

into the blur 5 : reticence

"are you hungry?" he called out, "i'm almost done here, ok?" he then went on to set the table for two, the scent of pork & vegetables in tamarind broth filling the kitchen.

"hey, let's eat! come on out," he called out again. there was no answer. he gave the table one last look and went to the room.

looking inside, he saw her sitting on the floor with her back resting on the edge of the bed. "let's eat," he said again, "table's ready. come on, while it's hot." he stood at the door watching her, waiting for an answer.

she remained motionless. he walked towards her and softly touched her shoulder. "let's eat..." he whispered, "...i've cooked your favorite."

she shook her head. "i am not hungry..."

biting his lips, he reached for her arms and pulled her up. "come on," he said as he pushed her towards the kitchen, "after lunch we'll take the baby out for a stroll in the park. where would you want to go?"

"i know..." he said answering his own question, "we'll take her to the bay and then hear mass after. then we'll pass by the galleria..." he started filling her plate.

she simply sat, looking at the plateful of food in front of her while he started eating. the kitchen was silent, except for the sound of spoon and fork screeching on porcelain.

"excuse me," she finally said, "i'm going back to the room."

"but you haven't touched your food yet..." he started, but she was already heading back towards the bedroom door. he stared opposite the empty chair in front of him for a moment, spoon and fork in mid-air. then he heard the door close behind her.

emptying the last morsel of food on his plate, he started clearing the table and placed all the dishes in the sink. there was this strange, all-encompassing stillness. he could almost hear the sound of quietness and it scared him.

minutes later, he sat on the doorstep puffing on a cigarette. she had been quiet for several weeks now. she would not even look at him. he felt a stabbing pain in his chest -- a sob. he knew it was his fault.

she was lively then, her laughter a shrill sound echoing the kitchen as she worked. his mind wandered to the times when she would suddenly sit on his lap, or when she would embrace him from behind and kiss him on the neck. he didn't know how much those gestures meant to him till now. his relatives often told him he found himself a good wife. even his not-so-decent-friends said so, too. he knew that, of course, that was why he felt so safe and secure. so secure that he had forgotten.

he slowly stood up and went inside. he could hear a faint sound coming from the bedroom as he neared. carefully placing his ear next to the door, he listened... she was laughing and their daughter was making wonderful baby sounds. he smiled and pushed the door open.

when she saw him, she picked the baby up and said, "come baby, let's play outside." he looked at her as they walked past him.

he spent the whole afternoon watching them from the window. she was her lively self, he noticed. wearily, he sat down on the couch and turned the tv on. gradually, the images on the screen got blurrier and blurrier...

he suddenly opened his eyes. the tv was still on but the room was dark. 7:55 pm. where are they? he looked around, alarmed. walking briskly towards the bedroom, he peeped inside. she was was on the bed, lying on her side. he heaved a sigh of relief.

quietly and carefully, he walked to her side and sat on the floor. "i'm sorry..." he started, "i'm sorry for everything. i will never hurt you again, promise."

he began to stroke her hair. "i love you... i miss you very much. come back to me. please!"

he waited for an answer but there was none. not a stir or the slightest movement. though she kept her eyes closed, he knew she was awake. he moved his face closer to hers, feeling her breath on his cheeks. then slowly... quietly... he started to cry.

the perennial project

New Panaderos street in Sta. Ana is a road i traverse almost everyday. the sidewalks are lined with street lamp posts, all the way to Sta. Ana Church. this morning, i saw a truck unloading what seemed to be concrete bases. hmmm... are they going to change the street lights again?

New Panaderos is a long stretch from the church all the way to Lambingan Bridge. it is illuminated by Meralco posts, so high it seemed useless. furthermore, the distance between them are three (or four) blocks apart. if you are not a resident, you wouldn't dare walk along that road at night.

if i remember correctly, the first street lamps along its sidewalks were installed in 2000. the following year, it was again replaced. and every year after that -- different post designs with concrete base shapes evolving from square to rectangular to triangular to tubular... with 4-5 workers fussing over one post.

funny thing is, i could not remember how they looked like at night, or if i have even seen them with their lights on. what i see are lamp posts with broken glass (bulbs exposed), or broken light bulbs, or bended metal posts, or crushed concrete bases with electrical wires sticking out.

but i am not worried -- they are at it again. i just hope i will be able to see them all lit up (even for one night) before they get replaced again.

a flicker of hope

a view of the Sta. Ana bell tower at night...

casa leon : before and after

my nostalgia

where i work, words like reactivating, urbanization, revitalization, redevelopment, conservation, preservation, restoration, master planning, environmental degradation, green architecture and sustainability are used as often as yes and no.

what we do is actually a great combination : building (new structures)... preserving (cultural heritage areas)... renew "dying" or deteriorating areas -- in concept, that is, except for the building part. that one we actually do. the preserving and renewing is left up to the concerned cities or municipalities. we just come up with a master plan study and of course, a series of recommendations on how to go about it. sounds grand? even better -- it is fascinating.

i must be in the right place then because one, i have had this fascination with old houses since i was a kid... a tudor is actually on my wish list. but our native bahay na bato will do quite very nicely -- like the ones in Ilocos Sur. i have three options in mind: have a house built just like it, live in Vigan, or snap back to my senses.

now why do i want a house made of stone? i'm not sure... pretty, i guess. and perhaps symbolic. or it could have been influenced by the story of the three little pigs--house made of straw, wood and stone. ha-ha!

i want an old-looking house from the spanish era, that's why. those thick adobe stone walls, wide arching doors, capiz windows, strong decorative columns and brick floors... with a house like that, who needs furnitures?

now where was i? oh, two. i enjoy going to particular places in Manila like Avenida, Quiapo, Escolta, and Binondo. my grandfather used to tell me that they were the commercial areas in the late 1800. that Escolta used to be what Ayala is now. Avenida Rizal is wher e you would go if you want to watch a movie (or go window-shopping -- malls weren't put up till the late 1970s), were movie houses lined along the avenue -- Lords & Jennets, Ideal, Odeon, Roxan are the ones i recall...

i remember when Avenida Rizal was a busy street jampacked with jeepneys. there was no light rail transit (LRT) then. my mom and i used to frequent Good Earth Emporium, a department store with a fastfood resto at the basement. it became Uniwide later, but i think they occupied only a portion of it.

till now, i enjoy walking along MacArthur bridge overlooking the brown waters of Pasig River. as a kid, i would always look out for Feati, a university with a slogan "look up young man, look up" written on it's walls. the top of its building isn't visible till you get somewhere near the middle of the bridge.

but what i miss about Avenida Rizal is Alemar's Bookstore. i wonder what happened to it. they always had a mountain of books placed on a wooden box stand on sale. i've been able to acquire several hard-to-find-books from those piles.

Avenida Rizal has been transformed into a wide stretch of pedestrian walk and i like it the way it is now. it showcases the blending of the old and the new, the contrast between the tiled pavement and the greek inspired architecture of the old Prudential Bank building (the groundfloor of which is now South Supermarket). though the streets are always teeming with vendors and pedestrians, there are several unoccupied buildings, mostly former moviehouses.

further along Avenida Rizal, turning left at C.M.Recto Avenue is a favorite noodle house called Pinsec where they serve great tasting beef mami. my former hub and i used to eat there regularly when i was pregnant with my son R. it's still there.

whenever i am in Escolta, i am sure to pass by Tropical Hut Hamburger. a tropical hamburger meal is what i eat -- always. at the foot of Jones Bridge, stands Savory Restaurant (i think they were the ones who pioneered the chicken gravy thing when everyone else was serving catsup). the only other Savory branch i know is along Shaw Boulevard but i do not know if they are operational.

for gold jewelries and buddha figurines, Ongpin is where i go. and of course, the special miki-bihon with unidentifiable toppings from Delicious Restaurant in G. Puyat St. (located just around the fire station). not to mention the steaming hot "litid" soup with sanque (star anise). i brought an officemate there once. we have been roaming the streets of Binondo the whole morning canvassing locksets for an office project. we were so hungry we were willing to eat anything. i suddenly remembered Delicious and coaxed him to walk a few streets for a special lunch. we ordered hototay soup, machang, special miki-bihon, quiquiam & litid soup. he ate too much, had indigestion after and blamed it on me.

the intersecting streets will then lead me to Binondo. walking through Carvajal Street has this aura much like being transported into another world (or another time). the alley is filled with fruits and other food items not available elsewhere. i once wanted to make an abalone dish but didn't know where to buy. during one of our trips to Holland Hopia along Carvajal, i saw two or three vendors selling the elusive abalone and some other sea foods i am not familiar with.

each trip i make around these places in Manila often culminates at Binondo Church. i remember walking down its aisle some twenty years ago but i was somewhat dazed i couldn't even recall how the altar looked like.

anyway... what i'm really trying to say is : i love these places. there's something about downtown Manila that pulls you back again. and again. and again. sure, i enjoy shopping and eating in air-conditioned malls, it's convenient, "safer" and clean. but whenever i feel the urge to experience life, Manila is where i want to be.

(wish i had taken these treasure of photos...i just found them all on the net from different sources. amazing.)

into the blur 4 : the unextinguishable flame

they had been at it shortly after she arrived. she could hear their laughter. glancing casually, she counted -- 6 heads downing hard liquor while feasting on grilled bangus and crispy pata. she shook her head and went back to drown her headache and hunger in front of the computer.

she took the earphone and turned the music volume up. ironic, but it somehow gave her a sense of peace and quietness. she kept looking at the time on the bottom right of her desktop. at the corner of her eyes, she noticed that he had made at least three trips towards his wallet. "the perfect host," she told herself, "making sure the bottles are never empty and their stomachs always full..." she knitted her brows. when you invite friends over for a drinking session, is it customary that you have to provide the cigarettes too? "if that is the case, he should have brought along guest relations officers to sit on their laps as well", she thought.

it was past midnight. she had taken a cup of coffee to ease her hunger. turning the pc off, she walked past them towards the bathroom and took a shower. he was standing before the sink, crushing more ice when she got out of the shower.

"aren't you done yet? it's almost two o'clock in the morning," she said.

"yeah, yeah..." was all he said.

walking back to the room, she looked at his friends who were drunk beyond reason and sprawled on the sofa and living room floor. there were empty bottles on the floor, cigarette butts and ashes strewn all over the table. she wished he had other friends. decent ones. she looked at him irritably... he can hardly hold himself up. the perfect host getting himself even drunker than his guests.

"i'm going to bed", she called to him. "i'm tired and i still have to go to work tomorrow". she slowly closed the door behind her. minutes later, she heard footsteps and the door closing. then a long silence.

the bedroom door swung open. "they've left...", he slurred. she looked at him, not saying anything. he sat on the bed and started to vomit. "don't get vomit on the sheets!" she shouted, "if you must, go to the bathroom!"

he kept on puking. she stood up, walked towards him and and pulled his arm. "get up, get up!" she cried. he pushed her away.

"what is it now?" he shouted. "know what, i can burn you alive, right this minute. you want me to pour gasoline over you, huh! now where is that gasoline... i'm going to burn you alive!"

she looked at him sharply. "go ahead..." she answered, looking at the little angelic figure sleeping on the crib at the side of the bed.

he started towards the door but suddenly fell on the bed. wearily, she walked toward the other side of the bed, circled the crib and caressed her sleeping daughter's foot. then she crouched on the corner, chin resting on her knees. she looked at him... asleep on the bed and snoring loudly.

bitterly, she smiled. when he was threatening to pour gasoline over her, the only thought that came to her was to be able to get her baby out of the room. nothing more, nothing less.