Bye and Sweet Dreams, Nanay.

Gloria Torres Fajardo Pagkanlungan

Birth: December 12, 1918

Sta. Ana, Manila

Demise: October 30, 2009

Fairview, Quezon City

Husband: deceased

Atty. Felipe Bote Pagkanlungan

The Road to Avonlea.

We visited our town in Nueva Ecija last week. Two of my sisters were with me, and our cousin Lorna and her hubby Abe was leading the way, in another vehicle.

Going to General Tinio (also known as Papaya), we took the NLEX and then the highway at the Pulilan exit.

We visited my Uncle Teriong, my father's only brother at Barrio Concepcion, and after a big lunch, we proceeded to see another relative.

Then, we headed to Lorna and Abe's farm, a 4-hectare property with lots of fruit-bearing trees. Their rest house is a lovely two-storey structure with beautiful furnishing and a spacious lanai/veranda. We feasted on freshly picked "suha," and went home with more suha and bayabas

Later, we went to our own farm which is located near Fort Magsaysay and drove to Cabanatuan to visit via the Fort.

This was the eve when typhoon Ramil was supposed to hit the North. At around 6 pm, we headed for Manila but traffic at that time was unbearable. It seems Cabanatuan City is the tricycle capital of the Philippines for hundreds of trike were darting in and out of the highway, competing with regular vehicles and the flying passenger buses of the North.

I exited at the first available sight of "To Manila." After that the nightmare started.

Rain started to pour with vengeance as I entered this dark highway. It was leading to Zaragosa in Nueva Ecija and then to Tarlac, and then to the new SCTEX.

My Ate mentioned this was the route they took from Cabanatuan to Manila the other time they travelled to Cabanatuan. It is a new highway and thus, less vehicles and you can go as fast as 120 - 140 km/h without any problem.

As I drove through the rain of Ramil in that dark, almost isolated highway, I remembered the years 2000 - 2002 when I stayed in Nueva Ecija and would drive late nights to Manila. I used to take the San Simon highway in Pampanga and then NLEX.

One such late night, San Simon got flooded as I was driving home and it was pitch black and my vehicle was a crappy jeep. I imagined a lady in white appearing in the middle of the darkness and ending sitting behind me. This weird imagining was actually a product of tales from the "barrio" in Nazareth where our farm is located.

It has been told time and time again by the barrio folks that a lady in white appears in a particular section of the long stretch of savana haunting travellers. Apparently, she'd been struck by a car and left to die in that lonely road.

Finally we reached STEX and then NLEX and then Monumento at nine-ish. It took almost three plus hours counting traffic time

The road to my Avonlea, I imagined would have been illumined by moonlit sky and graced by golden pond, and my Lady in White or Black waiting in anticipation for me.

Monte Maria. Awesome!

Left - Replica of the Statue which will rise at the Monte Maria Shrine in Batangas.

Father Jeff officiating at the Sunday Mass, Oct 25, 2009

Mountain View - 

Here is where the Statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary will be located.

View from Monte Maria Shrine.

Certain Things I Don't Get.

It's probably going to be quite difficult for me to settle (again) permanently in the Philippines. There are certain things I don't get.

Like certain people.  

Like security guards who can't understand simple logic:  that an Ontario license allows me to drive for at least 90 days in the Philippines, so it becomes a legal driver's license, and should be treated like one.  Some village security guards don't know about this, and no matter how many times you explain it to them, they just don't get it.

Like certain people who give directions such as "dere-deretso lang, duon na mismo."  

Like certain things.

Street signage that don't exist.  Or signs that point you to a direction miles ahead, and disappear at the very point you need it.   Or street signs that are so dirtied you can't even read it.  Or street signs that are covered by trees/leaves, and when it gets dark, you totally can't see them.

I drove from Manila to Tagaytay City, to Monte Maria, to Dasmarinas in Cavite, and back to Manila.  Was I frustrated!

At one intersection in Bauan, Batangas, the left sign says "To Batangas" and there was nothing in the direction which was straight ahead.  But we were already in Batangas, so what does "To Batangas" mean?

And then going to Monte Maria, some people were saying that there would be lots of signage from SM Batangas City which would point to MM.  There was none.   The actual signs started at the bottom-approach to the mountain shrine.

At one important intersection (San Isidro I think), the street was curving to the right and there was a street going straight.  There was no sign pointing to Monte Maria here.  It was a very important point, because if you go straight, it would lead you to a secluded area.  And the road to Monte Maria was the one that curves right.

But of course, all the missing signage did not dampen our excitement and joy in experiencing Monte Maria.  It is a great place - a place of our Mother - the Blessed Virgin Mary. 

But really, there should be a clamor from the citizens to make the streets of Manila and the provinces more user friendly.  Travellers could not simply rely on "directions" given by friends and peoples at various "kantos" or intersections.

Before going to Monte Maria, I checked the website for directions but there were none.

Then in Dasmarinas, we were looking for a street called Governor's Road which was supposed to be very near the Robinson's - SM malls.  Yes, again the sign was hidden from the mortal eyes. 

When I drove from QC to Paranaque coming from Pedro Gil and on to Roxas Blvd, I followed the signs showing "To NAIA."  Then at the most important point wherein to turn left, the sign was nowhere in sight.  I ended up going straight to the toll highway - Coastal Road where I had to pay and had to made a U-turn.  At the toll booth, I told the clerk what happened and he simply said," Sir, marami po talagang nagkakamali at naliligaw diyan. U-turn na lang po kayo sa dulo."  Period. Wow.

Another thing I find difficult is understanding how people talk.  Whether a person speaks Tagalog or English, I find it hard to understand.  My ears could not catch some words - Pinoys tend to speak fast and to shorten English words.  It's just not me, even two of my sisters and some balikbayan friends noted this. The reason is having been used to hearing Anglos(American and Canadians) and French-Canadians speak English.  And having not heard spoken Tagalog for so many years.

I am also not used anymore to over "magalang."  There's nothing wrong in being courteous, but if you speak direct to the point, without being "mapalabok" or beating around the bush, you will be mistaken as "mayabang" and you could be in trouble.

And of course, I don't get it when certain people say something and mean another thing.  This is the worst. 

Or certain people promising you something, then not delivering or plain disappearing on you. 

Riot.

The other night we checked the Laffline at Timog,  My sister gave me a booklet of tickets for the Metro Bar, Laffline and Punch Line.  

There were some funny gags, but most were crude and gay jokes.  The finale had the s/he male, Anton Diva, a stunning gay singer with various recordings to her/his name.  If you didn't know she was a he, you might even ask her for date.

What I didn't also like in the show was the incessant request (joke only kuno) for money from the various members of the show. Each time a viewer requests for a song, the performer would jokingly ask for cash.

I found it crude and sapilitan.  They might want to change strategy and just announce at the start that each song request would cost, say, two hundred pesos. Or they can pass out a hat or jar and ask for tips.

Tonight, we went to see RJ and his band (the Riots) at the RJ Bar in Bel Air. 

Whenever I am in Manila, I make it a point to watch Ramon Jacinto perform live.

As usual, his music is my type of dance music.  Very guitary.  Very danceable.  I was able to dance a couple.  It was enough to make my day.

Going Back.

Visiting Manila is always a thrill. Going back is never easy.

It's a bittersweet moment; stepping back home and leaving again precious moments or moments that were stolen by fate.

Manila by night is ecstatic; shadows moving and lingering. Mornings are easy; spirits willing and moods ever changing.

I wish for more days and nights in Manila...but I long to go back home.

Home is where the light, though hazy, is always warm. Where the air always kisses one's cheeks with tenderness.

Home is where the heart rests, where it remains silent and is able to feel every beat without a worry.

Home is where one begins to think and re-think and focus again.

Home is where one drowns one's sorrows and sadness because the spirit is hidden from the crowd.

Home is where peace glows.

I am leaving soon. There are countless ifs and should be's to be left behind. The sighs. The wondering. The sadness.

I'll be Looking at the Moon..

by Frank Sinatra

I'll be seeing you
In all the old, familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day through.

In that small cafe
The park across the way
The childrens carousel
The chestnut tree
The wishing well.

I'll be seeing you
In every lovely, summer's day
And everything that's bright and gay
I'll always think of you that way

I'll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you.

Toll free.

If you're doing business, it's wise to have a toll free number on top of your website and email. Why? Some people prefer to call instead of emailing, especially if it concerns defective merchandise, or tech support. And there are still people who order products/service via a call instead of on line.

When it comes to relationships, or in starting a relationship, a phone call is still the best way to ensure close and uninterrupted connection.

For long distance relationships, the phone or video chat is a guaranteed way to freshen up and energize love.

I never thought a phone call could be so terrifying to certain people. If one needs to locate a business or a person, the most intelligent thing to do is to call the company or the person.

I got into a bind because I was trying to locate a person here in Manila with no listed number and unknown address, only an email address. That address would have filters, I suppose and might have junked my attempted emails.

For balikbayans, locating friends and long lost relatives within a limited period of time becomes a double-time effort. You'd think the internet would help - all those social networking sites, all those search engines, etc. But no.

There are millions of people in Manila. How do you expect to accidentally meet the friend or relative you were looking for. Chance encounters that never took place.

Irony of ironies. A ruler who speaks boldly but dares not to take risks.

I've got an idea. I have a connection - 09267466979.

The film Caravaggio was compelling. Well acted, great cinematography, nice English translation, subtle sexual undertones. Michelangelo was immortally genius but mortally in love and troubled.

I smiled bitterly today. Is it forever gone?

Care-given.

I've seen the devotion my sisters have given and are giving to my mother. TLC to the core.

They tend to her 7/24, and they still retain a sense of humour that is infectious.

We grew up as a very close knit extended family. We were surrounded by aunts who ministered to and aided our Mom and us all the way - from birth to maturity. One aunt had no child and the other aunt's child lived with us, so we consider her a sister.

My two aunts died years ago; Diche and Sanse as we called them. My Mom's Ate I never got to see for she passed away when I was a mere baby.

It is great to see children taking care of their parents. It's become a big worry of parents, especially in North America, as to who would take care of them when they're aged and weak and sick, and senile.

In Toronto you see apartments for seniors, retirement homes, or nursing homes - the last "cocoons" for the aging citizens. It's become a big business.

Some individuals prefer to live in their own dwellings up until their last day here on earth. They rely on among other things, live-in caregiver, live out help, occasional help, government aid, philantrophic interventions (meals on wheels) and family care.

It is ordinary to see these people strolling out in the park or even going to the grocery with their canes as companion or riding in a mobile, motorized wheelchair. Some bring their pet dogs with them.

For those who are really sick, the government of Canada's health care system provides care - 7/24. But you hear countless of abuses in these nursing homes - diapers not changed, bed sores neglected, and even physical abuse by caregivers and staff.

My eldest sister often says " the way you take care of your parents is the way your children will take care of you."

While here in Manila, I linger by my mother's house - assisting in whatever way I can. But I cannot compare my contribution to the contribution most of my sisters are giving.

Bless them.

Solitude.

I bought a book the other day from a used-bookstore. It is titled "Journal of a Solitude," by May Sarton.

The journal started on the 15th of September, and I am now on the 28th of October.

I picked the book because the title caught my attention. Myself, a lot of times, find joy in being alone. I don't feel lonesome being alone. I can stay by myself, and hours would just pass.

I find time in Toronto to pass quickly than here in Manila, and it is ironic, because there are more activities to be done here.

An entry in this Journal stuck to my mind.

September 21st: Found this in an old journal - Humphry Trevelyan on Goethe:

" It seems that two qualities are necessary if a great artist is to remain creative to the end of a long life; he must on the one hand retain an abnormally keen awareness of life, he must never grow complacent, never be content with life, must always demand the impossible and when he cannot have it, must despair. The burden of the mystery must be with him day and night. He must be shaken by the naked truths that will not be comforted. This divine discontent, this disequilibrium, this state of inner tension is the source of artistic energy. Many lesser poets have it only in their youth; some even of the greatest lose it in middle life. Wordsworth lost the courage to despair and with it his poetic power. But more often the dynamic tensions are so powerful that they destroy the man before he reaches maturity."

This could be true of ordinary mortals, too. If we stop seeking for perfection, although we know we could not find it, we will stagnate. We would stop dreaming. We would coast through life. We would just live. Mere living is never exciting. It has no flavors, it has no waves, it has no valleys and peaks.

Being discontented means seeking for a better life, more meaningful relationship, more spirituality, a burning desire to improve, to master, to excel, to love, to find a soulmate, to grow.

Witness.

I speak from the heart. And from what I actually saw. Others won't believe. May even laugh. But it actually happened.

The other day, we went to attend Fr. Fernando Suarez' healing mass at the Our Lady of Fatima Church in Makati. A friend who lives in the parish got us tickets to the mass.

Father Suarez "touched" all the people who attended. He even asked what ailed me, and when told I suffer from a right ear impairment due to bike accident, he blew into my ear, and now, my hearing has improved a lot.

But another GREAT miracle happened to Toys (not real name). As we were exiting the church area, I decided to buy rosaries which were hand-made by the children whom the Foundation was helping. I only had 150 Philippine money and American money in my wallet at that time, and the local money translated into three rosaries.

I wanted more to give to relatives. Toys gave another 100 pesos for two more rosaries. And Toys gave 100 pesos during the collection.

Going home, Toys got hungry and asked me to drive to Glorietta for lunch. At the Food Court, I told Toys I'd get money from the ATM; no credit card accepted at the food stall.

No, Toys said; she'd pay for lunch. But Toys needed to go to an ATM too as her wallet was almost empty of cash; we, people nowadays don't carry cash, do we?

Anyways, Toys just had enough cash for the lunch. And lots of coins in a sandwich bag. I saw her wallet as she was paying.

I drove Toys home. When it was time for me to collect the car from the parking lot, Toys opened her wallet and screamed " where did this money come from?"

I looked when she showed me the wallet. Right there, staring at us, were a bunch of bills, FRESH TWENTIES AND ONE HUNDRED BILLS! Six hundred in all when Toys counted.

All together, Toys spent 200 pesos during the healing mass, and me, 150 pesos. Three hundred fifty in all. Six hundred filled her wallet out of nowhere. So the money spent got doubled.

Until now, Toys has not told a soul of this heavenly incident; she feels people won't believe if she's the one to tell it. I told a sister. And wrote in this blog so people may know.

Toys gave me 120 Philippine money from that "miracle heap," and told me not to spend it. Of course, I won't. She's giving her daughter some, also as keepsake and good (GOD) luck.

We couldn't believe. Then, we believed. A miracle.

Toys was not praying for money. She has enough. So we were asking ourselves the meaning of the miracle. Before the mass, we were talking of each other's relatives - of aiding, of tough love, of teaching certain people how to fish instead of giving them fish.

Father Fernando's Foundation seeks to build a city-village to empower the poor through economic and spiritual renewal. I believe the multiplication miracle took place as an answer to our dilemma - do we actually help loved ones through dole outs or shall we teach them how to fish? The answer can be gleaned from one of the objectives of Father Suarez' Foundation and that is, to help the poor by teaching/training them in livelihood projects.

Toys is a most generous person in this planet. She gives. She feeds relatives. She was blessed again during the healing mass.

I already got money from the ATM; in Manila, you have to get from the machine almost everyday as money disappears almost the minute you take it out. But the "miracle money" is tucked - neatly folded - inside my wallet.

Multiplication of bread and fish. I witnessed it.

Lost.

BELOW RIGHT - Chiqui, the guard dog in Fairview hides whenever I try to snap her photo.

Now, I am beginning to get it.  How I got lost. 

Right parcel. Wrong address.  Unseen shadow.  Unforeseen worst weather.  Mixed words, wrong signals.  Etc. etc. etc. 

The sad part is, like in the movies, people don't get the facts and events straightened out earlier.

Sometimes it becomes too late.  Sometimes it never gets rectified.  The end is tragedy, sad ending, hang jury, no conclusion, forever lost.  

It's like a movie that bombs at the box office (unwatched) or a tragic-comedy (pathetically un-funny and funnily sad).  It is like an indie (plot goes on on and on).

I got lost.  I am lost.   I need a sail with a strong wind.  I need to find my way to the centre of the Universe.  Soon. Very soon.

It's really cool being pedestrian.

I'm enjoying my stay in Manila although it's quite different this time. No grand places to visit, no nightly night-outs, unlike previous vacations. The circumstances of this visit are quite different, you see.

The ordinariness and plain-ness of it is really quite...cool.

I get to go to places where people actually go. The mall, for instance. I've been to several already, and marvelled at the size of the mall population, and how it spends time at the food court.

I've heard Christmas carols earlier; in TO, I only hear them about fifteen days before Dec. 25th.

I've seen LOTS of cell phone bazaars peddling (stolen?) wares and accessories and cell phones. I have three cell phones with me now; my regular cell phone which I used in Toronto, a spare one which I intended to use in Manila but which could not be unlocked, and the third one which I bought and using now. Without a cell phone, you cannot function in Manila and in the Philippines.

I've visited internet cafes; I've listened to people talking, getting mad while talking - all of which I didn't want to hear, but if you're seated beside one who yaks and yaps - there's nothing I can do. Why do I go to these internet joints, when I have my laptop? I just want to get the feel of the folks - nothing snotty in this statement; I just want to experience it.

I went to have my nails done - OFTEN. In TO, I clean my own hands and feet. But I couldn't bear going to the foot spa; I don't want my feet soaked where other feet where soaked. I actually don't want the instruments used in others' nails used in my nails.

I had a flat several days ago when it was raining and I had to call a tricycle boy, a cab driver and two other boys to help me change tire. I had my sister and friends in tow and thank God we had umbrellas in the car. We were in the area of the Trinoma in Q.C. To my horror, there was no jack in the car but I had a small flashlight and a cellphone. Again, I became a true Pinoy private car owner - relying on others to change tires.  In TO, I can call CAA and they'd fix it, as part of my membership privileges.

I am also snacking when I really am not hungry - another true Pinoy fixation.

More people call me "kuya" and sir than in the previous lives I've lived.

And I have my clothes laundered either in the mall or by my sister's alalay. I also have my breakfast, lunch and dinner prepared by others when I got so used to eating the food prepared by my own hands.

I've sung more karaoke than I did before.

And most of all, I see beautiful Pinays, plain Janes everywhere I go and I think they're all wonderful. The craze about getting whitier skin and spending time at spas and clinics are all unnecessary.

So you see, I'm having quite a time  just doing ordinary things - someone called me having pedestrian tastes, so maybe she was right.

I'm starting to enjoy myself despite a very big disappointment. But life could have been more wonderful... you know that.

Ti amo. Little Italy.

In Toronto, one of my favorite places is the Little Italy.  It is a section in the St. Clair West area (between the Dufferin and Bathurst streets).  

Here, you will find Italian restaurants, bakeries, shops, convenience stores, churches, banks and even furniture stores ensconced among other ethnic businesses like Portuguese , Hungarian  and even Filipino stores.

During the months of FIFA, Italian delis and sports bars overflow with Italian-Canadians rooting for their Italian team, and cars displaying the Italian flag weaving through the narrow and busy St. Clair West street where the TTC street car is an ever present sight.

I miss Little Italy.  My old office is located in this area and one favourite restaurant frequented by me and my office mates is called Ferro's, where Julie, a lovely Italian caters to our gang's whims.  My favorite panini is called Charles, and another fave is called Mushroom Magic.  

If you walk further west, you will hit Dufferin where there are numerous little shops selling Italian shoes and shirts.

I thought about Little Italy while here in Manila because I learned that there's an Italian Film Festival taking place at the Shangri la cinema complex.  A film entitled Caravaggio looks interesting enough that I plan to see it on Sunday afternoon. It's a good time to catch a glimpse of some other interesting sight. As I will leave soon, it may be a last chance to indulge my eyes on some rare delicacy. Siete bei!

The other day I bought ingredients for some spaghetti which I plan to cook; the spaghetti in Manila is too sweet for my palate.  Even the one in Marciano's at Greenbelt, while okay, was not to my liking. It was too creamy.

Other Italian restaurants in TO which I frequent are East Side Mario's for their Calamari diablo, Olive Garden and Frankie Tomatto, for their Italian buffet. 

Be healed.

Father Fernando Suarez is a Fil-Canadian priest, well known for his healing masses. His foundation is spearheading the construction of Monte Maria, a village soon to rise in Batangas City which will boast of the world's highest statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

I remember a well-known female writer who recently wrote about the lack of historical and important edifices and landmarks in the Philippines in her newspaper column;  I guess this is an answer to your "dream."  

I have never attended any of Fr. Suarez' healing masses in Canada.  But today, I did. At the Our Lady of Fatima Church in Bangkal, Makati.

A friend got us tickets for the mass, so we drove, got lost and finally found the church located in Capinpin, an area where the streets are named after famous Filipino generals, like Gen .Tinio, Luna, and Lucban.

The church was in the interior of one-way streets near a Police Station.  By God's grace, we reached the place at exactly 10 am, found a parking spot in a side street and as we approached the church, the group of Fr. Suarez was entering the church premises.

Fr. Suarez' homily was both funny and a bit scathing; he talked about the country as being the only Catholic nation in the Far East and yet, the most corrupt.  Where churches and communities, while professing their faith, also have neigbourhoods and church leaders who fill their time with gossips and acting like the Pharisees - the know it alls. 

I agreed to attend the healing mass because of my mother's condition and ailment; I was told to bring a photo of my mother which I offered to Fr. Suarez so that she may be "healed" of any pain and physical suffering that she may have.

When it was my turn to be "touched" by Fr Suarez, he asked what ails me;  As I have many, I told him of one - my right ear which lost some hearing to a motorbyke accident ( I was a passenger and it landed on its side so I broke my right big toe and hit my ear in the pavement which resulted in impaired hearing).

Fr. Suarez blew air into my right ear and touched my upper torso.  I felt good and from what I can tell, my hearing in my right ear has improved.  Previously, I can hear fine all the sound, even the faintest ones - but I find it difficult sometimes to hear the exact words, especially if I don't wear my eyeglasses, and if people don't enunciate properly.

Thank you, Fr. Fernando and Praise God!

Some people got "slain," which I've never experienced personally.

On the way back to Sucat, we ate at Glorietta in Makati; it was so different from the Glorietta I saw in 2005.

I salivated for siopao and mami at Kowloon, and also for buchi.

The day was complete.  Healing is what I really needed.  From a lot of things.