Sunday, June 25, 2006
delay
Typhoon "Domeng" prevented my passage back to Biliran last night. I had finished disinfecting my cot with alcohol, and was just getting comfortable when the capt'n announced we would not be setting sail due to the storm. So back to Lola's for the night, and a couple more days of city living.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
fodders day
Went to the cemetary with Lola as she does every Sunday before Mass to visit Lolo's grave. The taxi waits as we say hi to grandpa and drop off his weekly bouquet of flowers. It takes less than a minute.
My father's ashes are somewhere in the same cemetary. Unfortunately there was no one in charge in the office to show me where his grave is located; only a large map on the wall with a meanless maze of square and numbers. I stared at it for a few moments for some reason, like I could decipher it, before giving up. Happy father's day anyway Dad. Maybe next time.
My father's ashes are somewhere in the same cemetary. Unfortunately there was no one in charge in the office to show me where his grave is located; only a large map on the wall with a meanless maze of square and numbers. I stared at it for a few moments for some reason, like I could decipher it, before giving up. Happy father's day anyway Dad. Maybe next time.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
whoops
Sorry. Mis-post for May 21. See Sense and Sentibility. I also forgot to mention I changed my Sim card.. My new phone number has been updated to the right. Hope to hear from you. Peace and love!~
boiled bananas
No food in the house except some bananas which Bert and I boiled for dinner. It was fine for me since I still have no appetite. Just got back from our 2 day youth camp in the mountains, which went well, but stressful nonetheless, and thus the lack of appetite. I can never eat at things like that. Stress makes my stomach shrink.
About 120 kids from the different barrios attended, and we slept under plastic tarps which we had borrowed from around town and strung up from coconut trees as tents. (I’m finally putting these arms to use—I’m climbing coconut trees!) We also borrowed the drum set from the high school and had a praise and worship band which was the backbone of the event. Chris, a quirky and intense guy, not from around here, gave a dynamic talk on leadership. He was quite good. He effectively utilized the “human knot” exercise, and he was disappointed because if he knew he had more time, he would have brought his ropes. Chris it turns out is an expert in Team-Building with a specialty in the ropes course, having trained with the big wigs in Hong Kong. His favorite exercise is called the Spider’s Nest which he invented. It involves a series of criss-crossing ropes that each team must pass through finding the shortest possible route and do so without touching any of the ropes. Kind of like Catherine Zeta Jones and Sean Connery in that thief movie… what was it again?
True to the Phlip-side, the youth camp was loosely organized and semi-chaotic. Our program was pretty much scrapped a couple hours into it as Fr. Pejay was called away by the ex-Mayora for an important matter. We lost much of the spiritual, reflective dimension in the reshuffling, but overall it was still worthwhile. Imelda was still able to get up on her soapbox, spew out her lefty political views, and denounce Gloria as dictator, murderer, and thief. At night were able to screen “Brother Sun, Sister Moon,” in all it’s 1970’s senti grandeur. The following day I led the Thai Chi morning exercise, we had a tree planting, celebrated Mass, and played parlor games, finishing the event with a pilgrimage down the mountain to the swimming pool in the afternoon. The kids had a blast, and it was a good experience just for them to gather and be with one another, which was all Fr. Pejay and the pastoral team were really aiming for.
As for me, well, looking back on it was great, but it wore me out...
After catching and yelling at Bernard and Tipoy for sleeping in the same tent as the girls, I went back to ours. 3:30am. Joseph and company in the distance still fooling around on the instruments, laughing excessively and being annoying. Jonathan—bald, ugly, and lovable—lying next to me continues to put a grass stem into Ton-Ton’s orifices as he tries to sleep. Capitan Edgar, like most of the adult supervision is drunk and snoring loudly at my feet. And me, tossing and turning on someone else’s banig, in the cold, sweaty dampness, wishing I was at home or just not here. But you can never go back or escape. There is only to wait in the cold, sweaty dampness, and to move forward when it’s time…
4:30AM. Jorge maniacally starts ringing the church bell, an old gas tank leaning against the chapel. And the day begins. I force myself to get up and walk through the dark to the water basin in the back of Na Irene's hut, and splash water on my head and my arms. And the day begins…
About 120 kids from the different barrios attended, and we slept under plastic tarps which we had borrowed from around town and strung up from coconut trees as tents. (I’m finally putting these arms to use—I’m climbing coconut trees!) We also borrowed the drum set from the high school and had a praise and worship band which was the backbone of the event. Chris, a quirky and intense guy, not from around here, gave a dynamic talk on leadership. He was quite good. He effectively utilized the “human knot” exercise, and he was disappointed because if he knew he had more time, he would have brought his ropes. Chris it turns out is an expert in Team-Building with a specialty in the ropes course, having trained with the big wigs in Hong Kong. His favorite exercise is called the Spider’s Nest which he invented. It involves a series of criss-crossing ropes that each team must pass through finding the shortest possible route and do so without touching any of the ropes. Kind of like Catherine Zeta Jones and Sean Connery in that thief movie… what was it again?
True to the Phlip-side, the youth camp was loosely organized and semi-chaotic. Our program was pretty much scrapped a couple hours into it as Fr. Pejay was called away by the ex-Mayora for an important matter. We lost much of the spiritual, reflective dimension in the reshuffling, but overall it was still worthwhile. Imelda was still able to get up on her soapbox, spew out her lefty political views, and denounce Gloria as dictator, murderer, and thief. At night were able to screen “Brother Sun, Sister Moon,” in all it’s 1970’s senti grandeur. The following day I led the Thai Chi morning exercise, we had a tree planting, celebrated Mass, and played parlor games, finishing the event with a pilgrimage down the mountain to the swimming pool in the afternoon. The kids had a blast, and it was a good experience just for them to gather and be with one another, which was all Fr. Pejay and the pastoral team were really aiming for.
As for me, well, looking back on it was great, but it wore me out...
After catching and yelling at Bernard and Tipoy for sleeping in the same tent as the girls, I went back to ours. 3:30am. Joseph and company in the distance still fooling around on the instruments, laughing excessively and being annoying. Jonathan—bald, ugly, and lovable—lying next to me continues to put a grass stem into Ton-Ton’s orifices as he tries to sleep. Capitan Edgar, like most of the adult supervision is drunk and snoring loudly at my feet. And me, tossing and turning on someone else’s banig, in the cold, sweaty dampness, wishing I was at home or just not here. But you can never go back or escape. There is only to wait in the cold, sweaty dampness, and to move forward when it’s time…
4:30AM. Jorge maniacally starts ringing the church bell, an old gas tank leaning against the chapel. And the day begins. I force myself to get up and walk through the dark to the water basin in the back of Na Irene's hut, and splash water on my head and my arms. And the day begins…
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