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.

something in your eyes

There was a certain face
That filled a thousand nights
With all the sweetest dreams and promises
Of paradise
But that face was gone
When the dawn would come and steal you
Yet I still could feel you
Waiting just a kiss away

I'd surely know your face
When love would cast its spell
I'd recognize each curve and line of you
I knew it well
Now at last you're here and I can tell

Something in your eyes that seems
Is all I've ever wanted
(And) Something in your smile for me
Is calling out my name
Your eyes, that seems
Mirrors of my dreams
In ways I can't explain
And my heart will never be the same

We never said a word
As if we'd always known
The fruit of bittersweet of waiting
We were not alone
Now we're close enough
For the touch of love to find us
Fantasies designed us
But they never really could

Begin to measure you
No pictures ever do
And as I watch you framed in sunlight
And a sky of blue
I know what my life's been leading to

she loves grapes

i still call ayel "baby" sometimes, as in "come baby, time for your bath...". looking at her now, she's far from being the baby she used to be. she is now a little girl who loves to talk, laugh, sing, dance and eat grapes & bananas.

it's usually me who feeds her at mealtime and it's quite fascinating to watch and observe how she acquires her preferences. pork adobo and macaroni with ground beef soup are some of her delights. watching her eat grapes is a treat for me -- she loves the round, seedless, crisp kind. she takes each round grape with a smile and a shriek. in turn, i would put my ear next to her cheek and listen to the sound of crushing and grinding inside her mouth. and laugh.

i do not know if all grandparents do that, or is it just me?

the general's order

as the commute stopped along zapote street in makati yesterday, a woman got on. she made criss-crossing gestures over her breast. i think she was making a sign of the cross, i'm not sure. she was about 45 or so, wearing a white sleeveless shirt over black leggings. a few seconds after she boarded the jeep, she closed her eyes.

after three blocks, she asked the driver to stop and started to alight. the driver called her attention and reminded her she has not paid her fare yet. to this, the woman answered, "i don't pay fare."

the driver answered back, "you don't pay fare, what are you, a general?!"

"even higher than a general," the woman shot back. she was now standing on the sidewalk, muttering obscenities while reaching for something inside her bag.

by this time, the rest of us were oggling open-mouthed at the morning treat unfolding before us. the driver made an effort to get out of the jeep, cursing. the woman sitting next to the driver was trying to restrain him from getting out. "leave her be, let's just go. come on!" she said.

i looked at the woman on the sidewalk, she was taking down the commute's plate number. then she shouted, "an order is an order!"

laughter ensued as we drove on. i looked back at the woman -- she was boarding another jeep with the same route.

how (not) to write a book

my boss is writing a book. it all started in 2000 when he acquired their family's ancestral house somewhere in southwestern Luzon. at first he thought it would be nice to display framed pictures of his grandparents, aunts and uncles who originally occupied the house. and so the next days (weeks... months...) that followed became a series not only of research work (locating old pictures, calling relatives who might have kept a photo of this or that person) but also a mesmerizing graphic work project that included scanning and editing old photos and restructuring backgrounds and faces as well. he had a total of 7 uncles and 5 aunts -- that alone makes 12 faces, plus his grandparents and great grandparents. not to mention that we had to contend with sepia photos that were worn and torn.

after almost a year of editing faces which has already become so familiar i have begun seeing them in my dreams, the pictures were finally framed. whew...!

then he thought it would complement the framed faces if he made write ups printed on an even bigger frame. something like -- how his grandfather built the house... the materials he used... when it was built... the floor plan of the house, if there was any... family stories and anecdotes... a landslide of ideas started pouring in -- endlessly. i had one stroke of luck during this period for i was tasked to work on a thesis. HIS.

through all the years that the book's editing has been in progress, it has been taken over by several office staff who have come and gone. funny thing was, the book always manages to land back at me. vengefully. after eight whole months of working on the thesis, i found myself editing and lay-outing texts and pictures again.

the array of photos were expanding. pictures of churches, the house exterior and interiors have been included and so with the furnitures. he also thought of bringing in the ancestors from his wife's side of the family. it was beginning to turn into a grand reunion.

then another stroke of luck... he was going to the US for a reunion with college friends. wait just one moment and let me rephrase that: college-singing-group-friends. i had six to seven months to work on my new project, their song book featuring the music they sang in college. it was not an easy project. i had to download melodies and lyrics from the net. some of the songs i know, but there were a handful that i haven't even heard of before. on top of it all, the guitar chords kept changing faster than my typing speed. it was also lay-outed like a magazine so each and everytime he would think of moving songs to different pages, i get disoriented and start biting my nails for consolation.

on the day before his flight, i spent the whole day printing and collating pages. at times like these, an extra pair of arms would really come in handy. i used to look at a spider with envy seething from my eyes. with my song book safely flying across the ocean, it was time to face my nemesis. i wanted to have a final 4th draft for him to come home to.

when he came back, he thought of adding a genealogical chart of his mother's side of the family. we had been editing it for more than five years now. we already have a final copy in jpeg format. i believe that we have had the last of it since he has come up with another chart-- from his father's side this time.

looking through the contents of my computer's hard drive, i can't help but laugh at the file names i have come up with: draft, 1st draft, 2nd draft, semi-final draft, final draft, draft for printing, final copy, revised final copy, final copy edited june 2004, printed copy, first printed edition, 2nd version, A4 landscape version, A4 landscape version revised, A4 portrait size version... hardbound copy version, softbound copy version, softbound copy revised july 10... and so on and so forth...

we had test-printed a first edition copy last december 2006. since we were printing it on a regular office printer, he thought of having each page laminated to keep the ink from smudging. i then had it book-binded. the pages became thicker and heavier, and the laminate prevented the glue from sticking to the paper so i had to have it binded a second time. even then, the pages would not turn over the way an ordinary un-laminated paper would. there it was, sticking out as stiff as can be.

seeing his first printed copy gave him new ideas -- we started editing and lay-outing again. decreasing font size, enlarging pictures, enhancing pictures, adding and replacing pictures... then he said he wanted it on a landscaped format. oh, come on! he also wants to transfer pages and chapters into a different sequence.

as to my previous statement, it should more rightly (or bluntly) be: my boss has been struggling to write a book.

and me? aside from what i really do at the office (administrative and accounting work) i am still editing, layouting, scanning, typing and retyping, to date. who knows, he might get around to thinking of adding an acknowledgment page at the end of his book and put my name on it. something like:

"THE AUTHOR WISHES TO THANK CERTIFIED NUT FOR HER EFFORTS IN THE MAKING OF THIS BOOK. SHE HAD GALLANTLY TURNED IT FROM A SIMPLE PUBLISHING THING INTO A LIFETIME CAREER -- HERS."

hold my hand

little ayel is nine months old and owner of two upper and four lower front teeth which she displays quite very often. she not only delights us with her songs and dances, she has also been repeating words she hears from us (her own version, of course).

for the last two weeks, she has successfully managed to stand on her own and take one or two steps before grabbing my hand for support. to this, we would applaud and ask her to try again.

my son R (ayel's dad) managed to walk on his own when he was exactly ten months old. R was a sturdy child -- i made him stand with his back against the door and asked him to walk towards me. he did. from then on, he started walking by himself...

he used to hold onto my hand and try on a few steps with me standing in front or behind him as he moved. i instantly saw the symbolism -- a parent supporting and guiding a child so he can stand alone and learn how to walk, run and go places.

when my son R started walking, i knew i also had to start learning to let go. his first few attempts were the hardest for i could not resist trying to hold him for fear that he might fall and hit his head or miss a step and fall flat on his face. i wouldn't take my eyes off him -- clearly it was me who feared the thought that he could get hurt. it took a while before i felt confident he was steady enough to hold himself up.

a few blinks after, he was running -- that made me watch him closely even more. over and over, i cautioned him to take it slowly and not to run too fast. next he started trying his feet on the stairs. carefully at first, with hands on the railing. and then off he went -- up and down, down and up, making my heart skip a beat as he took each step. after several trips at the stairs, he became steadier. i started to relax. but it wasn't meant to stay that way for the first step he took was just the start of the many steps he would make -- each one taking him farther and farther away from my sight.

as the days wore on, i learned that as my son grew bigger and taller, the bigger and faster his steps became. and he didn't need to hold my hand to go wherever he wants to be. without his hand on mine, the only thing i held on to was the hopeful prayer that his feet will guide him back towards home every night, safe and sound.

now, it's our little ayel who is slowly making her own tiny steps. wouldn't it be nice if she held onto our hands for the rest of our walking life?

stillness

kamias

wet and white

i've always enjoyed walking. it not only shakes the fat cells off of me, it also clears my head. i love the feel of the wind (or dust, for that matter) in my face. relaxing.

walking towards the tryke station this morning, i saw an unattended kakanin (native delicacies) stall on wheels parked in front of the police station. looking to my far left, i saw it's owner. he was taking a leak. as i neared his stall, he smiled and and said, "miss, kalamay (rice cake)?"

uhm... thank you very much, but no. i would rather not.

when i got off at the corner of the street adjacent to the office, i saw a dog sitting beside a cat, obviously sunning themselves. i smiled and said aloud, "you... you're friends with that cat?"

i see a lot of things when i am using my feet. things that usually goes unnoticed when i'm riding in a car. for fun, i have walked from avenida to taft avenue. but the longest distance i have covered is walking from sangandaan (in caloocan) to sta. ana (manila). in the rain... in my white uniform... wading through flood waters that reached up to my thighs.

i was a PT student then. classes had been suspended at around 11:30 am (right after my last subject) due to a typhoon. i had no idea that public transport disappears around that area when floodwaters rise. i decided to walk. most of the commuters were walking, too. we looked like we're in a procession.

when i reached blumentritt my shoes were already drenched and heavy so i bought a pair of rubber slippers. i stopped every now and then and marveled at the variety of things that were spread out for sale along the sidewalks. the array of native lechon (roasted pig) skewered by bamboos, vegetables, fruits, kitchen tools, plastic wares, toys, handicrafts... i even saw items i could not find in supermarkets or mall stores.

getting to united nations avenue, i was surprised to see that we do have baobab trees. lined along the street were about three or four of them. not as tall or as big as the ones i saw on the net, but lovely anyway. from blumentritt to taft avenue, i strolled under the LRT trail, smiling at other students who were as soaked as i was.

when i reached home, my sore feet had open blisters all over. it took me about three days before i could wear shoes again, but it was fun.

what's with the bee, ayeliti?

she was about five months old the first time we brought her to jollibee, in paco. i remember her two lower front teeth weren't even showing yet.

what puzzles me after that first encounter is her reaction each time we pass by any jollibee outlet. her face would break into a smile, and laughing, she would raise her hands as if trying to reach the bee mascot.

she shows no such reaction with mcdonald's, though. everytime we bring her with us, she would be looking intently out the window. my guess would be, little ayel is looking for jollibee outlets and of course, the big bee.

i really have no inkling why. i will keep in mind to ask her when she's older.

brownies

i made a tray of fudge brownies today. while i was cutting it into squares, a particular young boy came to mind. i do not know his name... all i can remember was how he looked that day, eleven years ago.

it was a saturday. R's dad and i were in megamall to do some shopping but before we did, we decided to have a bite at the basement fastfood area first. as we were coming out, i saw the brownie store and thought of buying some for our son R who stayed behind.

waiting for my change, a young boy of about 10 or 11 stood right next to me, eyeing the brownies on display at the glass counter. he was counting the coins in his hands -- he had, i think a total of PhP1.75, in 25-centavo coins. i glanced at him and noticed the bulky backpack he was carrying. he was wearing tight-fitting jeans, a tee shirt underneath a checkered short-sleeved polo shirt which is much too small for his already small frame.

as the brownie girl was handing my change and receipt, the young boy signaled to her that he wanted a brownie. he was holding up a 25-centavo coin. i walked ahead.

after a few steps, i looked back and watched the boy at the counter, his arms still holding out the coin, i presume. the brownie girl was shaking her head. i told R's dad to stop for a moment and i turned back. touching the young boy on the shoulder, i asked what brownie flavors he wanted -- he selected two. i told the brownie girl that i am paying for it and could she please wrap them for the boy.

as soon the brownie girl handed him the package, he started walking away while tearing the plastic open. then he started eating. i looked at the brownie girl -- she was looking at me, smiling. i smiled back.

as we were walking towards the supermarket, i thought about the boy. i did not even see his face.

revisiting places

i am one of the most sentimental people i know -- sentimental but not overly emotional. oh, but i do cry at movies sometimes... magnifico for one, left me sniffling towards the end. i treasure my memories, all of them. even those that rendered me utterly pathetic.

ever since my granddaughter ayel came into our life, i kept asking myself if i had been a good mom to R. my answer is, i could've done better. instead of worrying too much about him not having enough sleep, i could've let him stay awake and played with him. instead of spending too much time tidying and cleaning the house, i could've spent it with him.

sure, his dad and i took him places. everywhere we went, we brought him along. even if i had to do the grocery shopping alone i always took R with me. i also didn't want a nanny for for my son then so i took care of him myself. still, i believe i could've done better.

i guess i was too uptight then -- a young and inexperienced first time mom wanting to do everything the way i was told it should be. what i should've done was listened and followed my instincts, too. the way a mom does.

with little ayel, i am relaxed and flexible. who cares if she turns the house upside down? i've stopped being too uptight about the house being clean and orderly -- it is our home, not a department store where everything should be in place all the time. who cares if i go to work with eyebags from sleeping late? ayel kept us awake, so we played with her and we had fun.

watching her makes me soppy. i am going through mixed emotions about wanting her to remain just as she is now for a wee bit longer while at the same time wishing for her to grow up soon enough so we can take her places.

i do not wish to replace my memories, i am just making new ones. pretty much like a tree that keeps branching out and sprouting greener leaves. smiles... tears... laughter... surprise... joy & excitement... i want ours to be filled with those and more.

i am retracing steps i took with R, but this time, i am taking his little girl with me. together, we'll revisit places on foot and by heart.