Namamasko Po.

The Christmas celebration and preparation are all around the universe. Three more days and the Big Day will be here.

But like other years, the joy of anticipation has always been the best for me because on the actual day itself, the climax has become anti-climactic.

Like a movie that's been over-hyped through promotion, Christmas Day's real story has been buried beneath the pile of unnecessary spiels.

To experience the true feel of Christmas, I always embark on a journey of the past Christmases of my childhood. Childhood memories, like the taste of one's first imported chocolate always feels authentic and real even after so many years.

I pine for the years when Christmas carollers were plain neighbourhood kids who didn't have to give advance notices to the residents just to serenade them. All they did was pull up their pants, pick up their musical instrument fashioned out of flattened soda caps and bravely but innocently belted out "namamasko ko po," message to the houses within their territory.

I long for the scent of "pinipig," (light rice flakes) and the Filipino hot chocolate drink, "cacao"  from Batangas,  laced with ground peanuts and drank straight from "espresso" little cups.

I especially wish for my mother who never failed to hang her freshly ironed window curtains and laid out her special China collection on the dinner table for the family's traditional Noche Buena and Media Noche meals.

My mother's Christmas Tree and Lantern had always kept the whole brood reminded even today of the Star of Bethlehem, the light that shone for the Birth of the Messiah - Our Saviour.

Missing the Gross.

I have not seen any gross movies lately. By gross, I mean blood spurting out of stomachs, body holes punched out by bullets, noses bloodied by punches, bones cracked by karate kicks, and so on.

I have relegated myself to being square and bored. When I pass by the cinema at the mall, I only take a cursory look at the faces of the actors plastered in posters. Sometimes, my eyes could not avoid the movie ads lined up along the escalator route.

What happened? I used to enjoy the "Kill Bill series," The Transformers, The Die Hards, the extra terrestrials, the T-rex's.

I simply looked at other things. The spiritual, basically.

But did it pay off? Was being more God-centered rewarding?

I remember suddenly Shirley McClaine and her "Out on a Limb" book, and Madonna and her "Kaballah" experience, and the lighted faces of inspirational speakers.

I am tasked now with building a group who'd become presenters and facilitators. Big job.

It's painful, sometimes. Takes a lot of time. No pittance. No thank you.

Who is it for? Take a guess.

People who transform themselves spiritually say it's for the Higher Being. But deep within and basically, it's for oneself.

We want that inner peace, that outer glow, that ultimate high.

But the real transformation overtakes the selfish self.

Halloween.

We came as a Pirate in our group's last Halloween Party. The shirt was a sturdy, long-sleeved cotton branded Papillon and the pair of pants was a striped, brown semi-loose. Then, we found a package of pirate headress, eye patch and an earing at the Metro in the BGC area.

Whoa.

Pirate of the Carribean.

In the Business District of Makati, there was a Zombie Fun Run.

In Canada at same time of the year, kids and adults would have donned their Halloween best costume and went door to door for the traditional TRICK OR TREAT.

Halloween is a big street or neighbourhood party in North America. In malls and groceries, candies are packed in bundles and people grab them to give out as treats. Day after Oct. 30th, these same bags sell for much, much less.

Manila has just picked up on this Irish North American tradition. And hopefully there'd be no criminal activities such as spiking candies with blades or bad elements making the bizarre and weird for real.

Two days after Halloween is the traditional Philippine remembrance of the dead. All Saints Day and All Souls Day are celebrated nationally by offering flowers and candles at graveyards of dead relatives.

Nowadays, this unique Philippine tradition of honouring the departed ones has calmed down from the heydays of "karaoke singing," drinking and partying at the graveyard to a more sombre tone of prayers and family reunions.

While upscale families opt to buy and live in condominium buildings, only those with less resources choose to inter their departed ones in the so-called "apartment-style" gravesites, pictured below.

Apartment-style graveyard are the cheaper alternatives to individual and gated graves.

Dwarfed news.

The other day we were on the way to Dapitan to buy Christmas decors and Greenhills at La Salle was like a ghost town so we reached Araneta Avenue in no time and that's where the traffic nightmare began.

It took us 45 minutes from the corner of SM in Araneta to reach V. Mapa intersection. There were no warning signs and no word from traffic enforcers as to what was happening. Only the innermost left lane was moving, so we followed the cars and buses turning left.

That's how we found out that no car could go straight onto Sta. Mesa because jeepneys and other vehicles were  parked along R.M. Magsaysay, and they even faced the oncoming traffic.

Turning left was not an option, too. So we decided to make a U (the only option) and headed back home.

The reason for the humongous mess: a local religious sect had an evangelization/fellowship being celebrated in Manila. Holy Canoly!

We ended up at the Greenhills Shopping Complex.

Yesterday we resumed our trip to Dapitan. Being a Holiday, streets were almost empty but finding a parking spot became the problem of the day.

Dapitan Arcade had all sorts of Christmas fantasy bits: trees, lights, nativity scenes, religious icons and statues, vases, pots, plates, chairs painted into antique-looking pieces, all types of Santa Claus, wickers and baskets and more stuff which are all bargain priced compared to big department store prices. There were huge Citronella plants for sale, too.

But the thing I wanted to buy was nowhere to be found: real antique capiz windows, and pint-sized garden dwarf figurines. I saw a complete set of Snow White and her seven dwarfs which fetched for 5,000+ pesos but they don't seem to belong in the garden as they seemed too polished.

The news of the earthquake in Bohol and Cebu got to me only in the evening.

Walk in the Park.

When I was working at St. Claire in mid-town Toronto, we spent after- lunch hours either sipping coffee at Seattle's Best with our friend Alborz, taking a walk with a group of guys from the office who, like me, wanted to burn out sugar and calories, doing the grocery, browsing at the shelves of  Dollar Store for bargain tools and paint brushes and cables, etc, or browsing the shelves of  a rental video.

Summertime Salsa Dancing in St. Claire

In one of our walks, someone discovered a beautiful trail, which we soon frequented. The trail was full of lovely, Canadian houses with picture-perfect gardens. One will be fooled of its location; it was a rich man's private enclave within an old city neighbourhood.

Hidden gem in busy St. Claire neighbourhood

There were afternoons when we took a walk to a Portuguese bakery and had our coffee there and a purchase of a Lotto ticket.

There were other parks within walking distance from our office and sometimes, for no reason at all, we'd take our packed lunch and consume it at a park.

One of the many parks in the City of Toronto

Loblaw's at the corner of St. Claire and Bathurst is one of our favorite groceries. Then,  there's a Timothy's Coffee nearby and a few Filipino grocers and dine-in, take-out fast foods along St. Claire.

Our favorite Italian Restaurant in the area was Ferro's, and on Tuesdays, we'd cross to Kentucky Fried Chicken for their Toonie Tuesday offers.

Coffee was always overflowing in any meeting or function in Toronto; doughnuts and cookies were always present, too.

And during cocktails or parties, there was the ever present cheese - lots of it in different varieties. 

A moon-filled night.

Driving from Intramuros back home, I took Pedro Gil instead of travelling via Buendia. Pedro Gil, I still prefer to call it Herran, was a mess at five in the afternoon.  Public jeepneys, "de padyaks", and an assortment of cabs and private vehicles were fighting for what was left of the street, as other cars turning left blocked those going straight, and as commuters waited for their rides almost in the middle of the street.

As we passed St. Paul's University and U.P. Faura, I almost didn't recognize the two institutions as they looked shabby amidst the narrowed streets occupied by stores, hotels, sidewalk vendors, and slow and parked public utility vehicles.

Then on to Dart, Paco, I almost cried upon seeing the even narrower street leading to my Alma mater. To my left, I was pleased to see the facade of what used to be Bellevue Theatre, with its pillar and decor intact still.

Robert Downey, Jr as Sherlock Holmes with Noomi Rapace who played Sim, the gypsy, in Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

At the railroad crossing in Osmena Highway,  I heard the railroad bell and stopped right before the track. Other vehicles took their chance and raced to the other side. Then the train didn't make a move, and the rail guard didn't close down, so together with other cars, I drove quickly and passed the crossing.

Many moons ago in Weirton, West Virginia, there was a railroad crossing wherein cars waited ten minutes or so for industrial trains to pass through. This was before the new highway was built and I had to pass through old Weirton and onto University Avenue in Steubenville before reaching Sunset Boulevard where we lived.

Which led me to think more of  trains. Couple of days ago, I watched a re-run of Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows where Holmes, Dr. Watson and a gypsy girl  travelled to Germany by horse and Holmes was captured by Moriarty inside his armory.

When Dr. Watson finally freed Holmes and as they fled, Moriarty's weaponry pounded them and killed most of  Holmes' company. The quad of Holmes, Watson, the gypsy girl and her aide escaped via a passing cargo train.

Which led me to think, how many movies have I seen where a passing cargo train from nowhere facilitated the escape and saved the life of the main character? Many.

A passing shadow stole the ride amidst the moon filled night. 

The Perils of Phones.

I had Vibber uploaded into my Iphone recently so my relatives in  the U.S.A can phone me and I can call them for free. I have also "facetime" and Skype. And I have "facebook" and internet connection via Iphone.

Then of course, the old reliable email adds to the connectivity to the outside world.

But the other day, one associate informed me that she was texting an important meeting which we didn't receive. The text was sent to a Nokia which we suspect had been acting strangely, meaning some texts are not being processed and received.

The sender was thinking we didn't care about the event, and we were thinking, she didn't call for a meeting.

In today's highly wired world, the technology which is expected to improve mass communication sometimes becomes the source of mis-communication.Why? Because we rely too much on it.

We think that if we email someone, s/he'd see it right away and respond. But we never think that sometimes emails go directly into a receiver's spam folder because of the filtering or privacy settings that s/he had inadvertently done to her/his program.

Or when we send an SMS to someone, we immediately think it's been sent successfully and received successfully. We do not see lag-issues, provider issues, and sometimes, "low-bat" or "no-load" issues. Some phones or providers do not process text messages when the receiver's phone has no pre-paid load, and the message is kept hanging somewhere.

Ourselves, we try to email and text at the same time for important issues and concerns we want known and taken up if we are expected to be the initiator of something.

And of course, a "live call," is always the best, because no load or with load, we can always reach someone.

I remember an old, 1984 phone commercial of AT & T, " Reach out and touch someone." Play it here.

A Street called Church.

In Toronto, there's a street called Church. It intersects Dundas and that's where you find the St. Michael's Cathedral. Nearby is George Brown College, Golden Thai, a favorite of mine, some thrift shops, and further down at Front Street is the  O'Keefe Theatre, now known as Sony Centre for the Performing Arts. In the vicinity of Front is the famous St. Lawrence Market, framed now by countless condominiums.

St. Michael's Cathedral

Church Street is roughly bounded by Gerrard Street to the south, Yonge Street to the west, Charles Street to the north, and Jarvis Street  to the east, with the core commercial strip located along Church Street from Wellesley south to Alexander.

Way, way up is the CN Tower, the tallest structure in Canada and if you follow John St., you'd find an array of exotic restaurants in the theatre district of Toronto where tourists and locals get to watch shows such as Les Miserables, Mama Mia, etc at the Royal Alexander, the Princess of Wales, and the other theatres.

CN Tower in Toronto.

Church Street also boasts of bums lying over exhaust openings from the subway system below. Other times, these creatures ply the traffic and offer motorists a quick window wash. One Toronto Mayor banned these "impromptu car wash boys."

Also within walking distance is Toronto's Wall Street, the Bay Street. And of course there's Yonge Street, a tourist attraction show casing restaurants, specialty shops and shows, bargain souvenir stores, tatoo boutiques, and sidewalk cafes.

St. Lawrence Market, partly a farmer's market with lots of fresh veggies and fruits on Saturday and Sunday and a flea market, too

Queen's Street is another busy street in the Church street-area. That's where Old City Hall is located.

Aside from the iconic St. Mike's Cathedral, Church Street is home to the gay community in Toronto and stones' throw away from Gerrard, where St. Anne's Church stands amidst the little Chinatown and Indian town.

The crab.

It's much easier to stay silent, and sit by yourself in the imagined cubicle you erected - walls impenetrable by people who don't like to be dealt with.

When we were young, and unsure of ourselves, we preferred to remain quiet during recess at school and on class hours, we acted prim and proper and listened to our elementary school teachers with ears and eyes wide opened. We never bullied anyone, even if "slum boys" pestered our girl school mates.

But as we grew older and saw  the real world for what it was, we couldn't help but stand up noisily for that was what was required to be heard and seen.

Especially for small or short people, being heard is a hard task. With big and tall people, being heard is even harder if the meat of the message is a dung.

Politicians in the Philippines, a lot of times, don't need height nor weight to be heard, seen or get elected. They simply need to have the right network of manipulators and vote buyers. Sad but true.

In ordinary people's lives, there are manipulators, instigators, and provocateurs working behind the scenes. They are the destroyers of dreams, visions, projects and lives.

They act vile because they want to get the credit for your work, they have been paid to do the dirty job, envy you and your family, or they are just simply mean and evil ( like rude drivers who drive you crazy, thieves, hold uppers, car jackers, rapists, those with crab mentality,  and pork barrel scammers).

But in simple, community environs where proper decorum and etiquette are still required, there are still scums who ignore "hellos and hi's" and smiles and small talk as if wealth is the only yard stick for returning the greeting and the warmth.

Pets, especially dogs are man's best friend, indeed. They may have the brain of a pea, but they respond warmly to man's simple gestures of care.

TBT. Buttercup.

I thought buttercup was just a piece of muffin-like goodie,

then I heard the song "Build Me Up Buttercup' by the Foundation, over and over, in dances and karaoke sessions where people love the 60s and 70s tunes.

But no, buttercup is a kind of plant from the Ranunculacea family which produces yellow or white flowers.

And lately, buttercup became a character in Toy Story, even a princess in the Princess Bride.

But more than this, Buttercup has become a term of endearment by guys to gals, and a fave dance number throughout the years.

Nostalgia.

A bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past. That's nostalgia. 

The brood of  my canary, Lucky, taken in 2009.

We pine for the good times, happy memories, excellent job, childhood years, even missed opportunities.

 

Missing Spike, the mini-pin, in one of our walks in a Toronto neighbourhood park

It's the eleventh of September today, another anniversary of the World Trade Center bombing in 2001. A dozen years have passed.  I was heavily jet-lagged when it happened, having just arrived in Toronto, from Manila.

My buddy Budgie, Tommy

This month is also the anniversary of the deadly Typhoon Ondoy which hit Manila in September 26, 2009, some four years ago. I had barely arrived from Toronto and visiting a sick mother when Ondoy sent Manila into the death chamber, killing and maiming thousands, and murdering dreams of many.

My Mom circa 1920's and just before her death in2009.

Alas, the past haunts. Like phantom childhood scars from tumbling bikes, the past sometimes suddenly seizes us and convulses us into remembering.

October 2009 trip to mountain-top Montemaria in Batangas, Home of Maria - Ina ng Dukha

The foregone could be hilarious, joyous, painful, wasted, hung. 

A story untold, or retold, ended, unfinished, being re-written, being lived. 

I miss the cat. Savannah, just few months' old in this photo, lazing under the a.m. sun.

The onion-skinned peelers.

Yesterday morning, as I peeled onions for the hamburger I was cooking, tears filled my eyes as the pungent bulb stung my tear glands. I love onions but not its tear-inducing substance, sulphur.

Onions contain amino acid sulfoxides that form sulfenic acids in the onion cells. Both the enzymes and the sulfenic acids are kept separately in the cells. When you cut the onion, the otherwise separate enzymes start mixing and produce propanethiol S-oxide, which is a volatile sulphur compound that starts wafting towards your eyes. The gas that is emitted reacts with the water of your eyes and forms sulphuric acid. The sulphuric acid thus produced causes burning sensation in your eyes and this in turn leads to the tear glands secreting tears. Thus you end up with watery eyes every time you cut onions at home.There.

Guys peeling onions and protecting themselves.

I thought about the onion scene as I listened again to the Napoles pork barrel scandal over at the morning news and marveled at how those involved invoke innocence or ignorance of their participation. Hard-skinned or lacking ethics, yes, but they act onion-skinned and talk about how their good names are being tarnished and show how delicate their egos are. 

But aren't these the same guys who peel off their opponents during political campaigns and even the civil societies, the religious, and anyone who gets in their way?
 
These onion-skinned peelers. Bah.

Flood sucks, plants okay.

The place where we live is prone to flooding. That's because the village itself is a water conduit, with miles' long creek emptying at Laguna de Bay, I suppose.

But lately,  the situation has improved,  largely because of early canal dredging and a flood control being built right behind our backyard.

But the thought of turning our whole living room into a garden still crosses my mind. Then, there'd be no worrying about flood intruding into our sala, and the hard work of emptying the room of its furniture and furnishing.

A garden sala would be the perfect solution for flood-prone houses. First, move out all foam-filled furniture, second, replace with garden benches or wooden or plastic chairs, third, move in glass-mounted tables and rid the place of entertainment gadgets such as large television set and other electronic stuff. Make internet connectivity wireless so you can browse anywhere in the house.

Asian Landscape by Other Metro Landscape Architects & Designers Garden Mentors

Lastly, move in the plants and vases.

When guests come in, welcome them into the new garden and serve refreshment or meals here.

Anytime you want a stroll at the park, you can do it right in your home.

Mouse on the loose.

I am attached to my computer mouse. I don't want navigating or browsing using my fingers; I'd rather do it the old fashioned way - point and click. Even with my iphone, I'm never comfortable dragging or enlarging text and photos, using my fingertips.

And with a stylus, I sometimes use unnecessary force. 

With a mini-network in the house, the dwellers, unlike before, no longer fight over Internet connectivity. Anyone who wants to get connected can do so with the on-going wireless connection.

Now, the fight is who gets to use the mouse. I bought a new mouse couple of weeks ago to supplement the existing one(s) and while busy packing for the unforeseen flood the other day, one mouse got dropped and later, became immobile.

Off to CD R-King to purchase more mouse. Meanwhile, the real rats are inside their cubicles in the Senate and Congress plotting ways to derail the trails leading to their pork barrel mis-allocations.
 

Three Dogs and an Ex-Cat and Me on a Classy Afternoon.

I miss my classical music. So, on a rainy day when a tropical disturbance startled city folks, first with red, then orange and on to yellow warning, I switched on Ludwig van Beethoven Symphony 9 as the house dwellers take their naps, including the three dogs outside.

The latest addition to the canine brood is happily named Bouncer. He is a Belgian breed whom we got when he was only about three months old, a pup. Now, he's a humongous beast, easily climbing on my back with his muddied paws.

The Messy Bouncer

He feasts on steamed chicken head dimsum, and sometimes even siopao. He eats veggies and potatoes and fruits, even wheat crackers. He carries his big basin food container between his teeth and wiggles it when he asks for his food. He overturns his green water pail container as soon as he's done drinking.

First, we named him Bugoy for lack of any other name. Then we switched to calling him Hunger because no amount of food satisfied his appetite. Since he was a growing glutton, I then thought of calling him Gluttonic.
Next was Vibber because I loaded my Iphone with the app vibber.

And finally after owning him for almost three months, he's now officially christened Bouncer. That's because he's the main guard, the point man, and he's fierce.

Bouncer used to be a meek puppy. He has several siblings who are now owned by different people. His original owner owns the Mum and Dad, and they freely roam at his backyard as watch dogs.

Bouncer was bound for at least several weeks and then was allowed to roam free. But he was a mess and made a mess of everything. Plants were uprooted, rubber slippers were gutted, upholstered seat at the back was munched, plastic basins and everything plastic were mauled.

We still let him loose because he is the main guard of the house. But we confined him to the backyard. And Shaddy, the front act who was leashed before is now also on the loose, and together with Yabbi, man the front part of the house.

Shaddy and Yabbi are not friends, though. They fight constantly, unlike Shaddy and Bouncer, who at one time had their respective chains connected to the same pole.

The charmer, Shaddy

Our cat, Savannah, meanwhile has been missing for several weeks now. The ugly, lovable, white cat we nurtured from frail infancy into a bulging whiner went missing one morning when she failed to show up at the dining door when I opened it.

For a while, we thought she'd just slipped out of the fence slot, but days without her mounting the hood of the car, and meowing for her breakfast, snack, lunch, snack and dinner confirmed our suspicion that she was indeed gone.

We suspect she had eloped with the cat who'd been hounding the neighbourhood, traipsing through the roof and onto the cement partition between ours and neighbour's houses.

A friend said, "she'll be back in three months and she'll be bloated because she's pregnant."

We miss Savannah. She, who got blue eyes and white fur. She whose left eye is somewhat damaged.

The cautious in me thought earlier that maybe Bouncer had something to do with Savannah's disappearance, and I kept looking around for cat remains in the backyard. It was a gross thought, and then I remembered how Savannah could jump from chair to chair to tree to fence, and how she could let out a piercing, ferocious yowl.

No, she's not missing; she's somewhere with her lover.

Fashion fits.

Who could forget North Korea's late leader Kim Jung Il's famous hair cut and spring-type jacket?

And China's Mao for his jacket?

                                             Or Pope Emeritus Benedict's red shoes?

Manila Mayor, Joseph Ejercito Estrada

Of late, Manila Mayor Joseph Estrada, ex-Philippine president who was ousted from office through People Power III and sentenced for plunder by Sandiganbayan (Philippine Anti-corruption court) has been seen wearing army fatigues during his city sorties and while answering queries about Manila's ban on buses.

One news anchor was heard blurting on air "is he going to Afghanistan?"

The late Philippine dictator Ferdinand E. Marcos became a fashion icon by default because he popularized the Philippine national shirt, the Barong Tagalog and was able to maintain the "masa appeal" because he often wore a light sports jacket during his presidency.

 ABOVE  & LEFT, Philippine dictator, Ferdinand E. Marcos



The Pope's Swiss Guard, meanwhile, always looks dashing and daredevil, especially, if juxtaposed against today's world of terrorist scene and starved-look fashion.

Pope's Swiss Guard

ABOVE - Anorexic model Heidi Moss 

When it comes to fashion sense, much ado has also been given to church goers' attire during mass or Sunday services, and to church pastors or speakers during their service or engagements.


 

Left, the late Tammy Faye Bakker, wife of disgraced Pastor Jim Bakker, who was simply remembered for her atrocious make-up. 




Among Philippine Christian motivational speakers, Bo Sanchez stands out not only because of his sensible messages and topics conveyed in clear, easy-to-understand English and sincere manner of delivery but also because of his business attire that shows confidence. That's why thousands flock to his Sunday "Feast" services at the Philippine International Convention Center.

Bo Sanchez, in his trademark Sunday suit, continues to draw young crowd to his "Sunday Feast"

Mike Velarde, another well known charismatic speaker, always cuts an interesting figure in his signature red or yellow business suit, in his well-populated prayer meetings at his Amvel compound in Paranaque City, in the Philippines. 

Mike Velarde of El Shaddai

 

Pilgrims visiting holy shrines are often exempted from dress codes. That's because weather changes from town to town or country to country. The rule of thumb in these cases is to dress comfortably.

Intense Intramuros.

One of the entrances to Intramuros, the oldest district and historic core of Manila

Tourists to Manila visit Intramuros to get a glimpse of Manila's past. For in Intramuros, one finds the ruins or remnants of an imperious Walled City, constructed in the late 16th century as protection against local and foreign invaders to the Spanish colonizers.

The original Walled City included the Palacio del Governador General (Governor General's Palace),  the Manila Cathedral beside it, and the Ayuntamiento (Congress) just across.

San Agustin Church originally built in 1571.

In the many narrow streets are other government buildings and other churches, like the San Agustin Church and the Lourdes Convent.  There's also the Fort Santiago, a fortress overlooking the Pasig River which served as the look out to check incoming strangers and vessels, and which served as the National Hero Dr. Jose P. Rizal's incarceration chamber and Japanese garrison during WWII.

The Lourdes Church and Convent as it stands today.

There's also the Fort Santiago, a fortress overlooking the Pasig River which served as the look out to check incoming strangers and vessels, and which served as the National Hero Dr. Jose P. Rizal's incarceration chamber and Japanese garrison during WWII

Fort Santiago

                                                                       

From this look out into Pasig River,  Spanish sentry saw who's approaching the Walled City

In a trip to the Knights of Columbus Headquarters in Intramuros last week, we decided to become tourists and explored what remains of the Walled City.

Knights of Columbus (Philippines) buildling in Intramuros, where the first K of C Council (1000) was established.

Intramuros is in a very sorry state of decay.  The old buildings have become private offices and schools, and the old Ayuntamiento is now home to the Bureau of Treasury.  One building is now a hotel.

Intramuros ruins.

There are new structures which attempt to blend with the old 16th century Spanish architecture, but there are newer houses which belong more the slum.

Other sections of the wall call for cleaning up and restoration.

Students from nearby universities and schools use part/roofs of the Walled City as trysting places and a golf course takes center stage.

At the Fort Santiago, more disappointment greeted us. The Rajah Sulayman, site of many good plays staged by Lino Brocka and his ensemble in the mid-70's and early '80's, lays in waste and in silence.

Walls of the Sulayman Theatre

Dr. Rizal's Shrine is being renovated so are the entrances to the dungeons and artillery chambers.

Bust of Philippine National Hero, Dr. Jose P. Rizal, at the entrance to the Rizal Museum.

View from the top, one of the dungeons at the Fort, where Filipino soldiers were kept as prisoners during the Japanese occupation of Manila - WW II

The City of Manila should look into the case of Intramuros and urgently start a professional and masterly restoration.

Intramuros evokes a past brimming with aches and pains of patriotism, of love for God, of a country's glory.

Interior courtyard of old structure turned into Hotel Intramuros

Rare Filipino-authored books found in an Intramuros gallery and bookstore