Far away

February 6, 2009. Night. I got a call about my mother being admitted to the hospital back in my home city of Cagayan de Oro. Details were blurry back then. It sounded like she's going to die. I quickly checked the available flights the next day and went to sleep. Yes, I was able to sleep. It took some time. But I was able to sleep. Thanks to the reassuring, soothing, heavenly voices of Libera. I listened to one song only. I put it to a loop. That song was Far Away. It's a beautiful song sung by the best vocal group in the world with a solo from Michael Horncastle, one of the finest soloists the group has ever had.





Whereever I go
Far away and anywhere

Time after time you always shine
through dark of night calling after me

And whereever I climb
Far away and anywhere

You raise me high beyond the sky
through stormy night lifting me above

Venite Spiritu et emitte caelitus
Venite Spiritu et emitte caelitus
Venite Spiritu Venite Spiritus

Far away beyond the sky

Whenever I cry
Far away and anywhere

You hear me call when shadows fall
your light of hope showing me the way

God spared my mother's life. And whatever happens in the future, knowing that everyone dies in the end, I'm grateful to God that she spared her life in that instance. Whenever I hear a Libera song, I am calm. And the song Far Away always bring me back to the night of February 6, 2009. Where all I could do was hope and pray.

The pact

November 7, 1997. Friday. The first week of the second semester of my freshman year in college ended quietly. I went home from school a bit tired and not yet completely out of sem-break mode. But I don't really remember what happened that night. I supposed I watched TV, overslept, and woke up mid-morning on Saturday like I always do, even now.

At the other side of the world, in England, a group of people convened in their humble book club's weekly meeting. The topic: a little known novelist JK Rowling and her debut novel.

At yet another other side of the world, Emily Gold, 17, killed herself, and nobody saw it coming: not her parents, nor teachers, nor friends. She was beautiful, intelligent, and gifted in the arts. Her Arts teacher said a student like Emily shows up once every ten years or so. Yes, nobody saw it coming, except for her boyfriend, Chris Harte, 18, next-door neighbor and life-long friends (practically since birth). Their parents and their small community all but expected the two to end up with each other for the rest of their lives. Now Emily is dead, and Chris badly wounded after an apparent botched suicide pact. Nobody saw it coming. Later, evidence surfaced that it was Chris who killed Emily. What a tragic end to an almost fairy tale story. Not even both set of parents saw this coming.

That's the book posing for a picture in front of our porch back in Cagayan de Oro.

This was the only book that I finished reading in 2009, not because all other books sucked, but because I haven't really been reading a lot last year. I always found an excuse to put off reading. I bought this mainly in part because I liked "My Sister's Keeper", a movie adapted from one of Jodi Picoult's novel of the same title. I could have chosen to buy any of Picoult's work and I probably would enjoy all of them. But for some reason I chose this as the first of her novels that I would read. And I wasn't disappointed. I read this in two sittings during my Christmas vacation. Picoult told the story in an alternate past and present format throughout the book and I found it hard to put down with every chapter egging me to read the next one without delay till the end to find out what really happened to the botched double suicide pact or if it was indeed murder. Picoult doesn't seem to have trouble taking a what could be described as a fairytale premise and turning it into a horrible tragedy and leaving me satisfied in the end despite the big revelation.

"The Pact" and his friends in my bookshelf back in Cagayan de Oro.

2012

A rumor, brewed from the West, reached our village. The world would end. And the giant one would tell us how. It was a long and heated debate. Friendships were lost. In the end the elders decided to send three villagers to the giant and report back how the world would meet its fate. I was one of those three.

Thus, on Tuesday, the 17th of November, we journeyed south to the giant. The journey was hard. We braved strong winds and heavy rains in order to reach the giant. It was as though a force hidden beneath the winds and rains wanted us not to know how our world would end. But we were determined. We were brave.

The sun has long since hidden itself by the time we reached the giant's place. The moon shone brightly without a hint of the heavy rains during our journey.

The rumors were real. The giant one knew the world was about to end. And he knew how it would happen. But beneath the amazing detail of his story, a ray of hope. Some would survive. The world would be destroyed, but not completely. It was good knowing there would be survivors, even as I know none would come from our village.

We journeyed home. I presented our report to the elders. The elders presented it to the village. We said our goodbyes.

Okay, above was a writing exercise. Below are my thoughts on the movie 2012.

It was surreal watching the planet being destroyed swiftly and in a detailed way. As I watched the monk being swept away as he tolled his last gong, I said to myself, Charlie was right to stay put. There's not a lot that anyone can do. I saw no Filipino aboard those arks. And a computer simulation showed the Philippine archipelago getting buried underwater. I suppose there's nothing I could do in that situation. I'd just wait for the gigantic tidal waves to approach me and tweet my last: I see the waves coming towards me. I guess this is goodbye. #apocalypse. But by then, the fiber optic lines connecting the interwebs would have been destroyed long before I'd get my first glimpse of the giant waves. I'd see in my TweetDeck Twitter Status: Problem with all feeds. In the end, when the waters have long subsided and future archaeologists study a solid state drive once belonging to a startup called Twitter, they'd see my actual last tweet to be: Woke up early to the news that America has started evacuations. I see the sun outside. Hope the waves never come.

Paper cut

I didn't plan to see this movie. For this week, I was keen on seeing only two movies, and both have numbers in their titles: 2012 and 500 Days of Summer. I saw 2012 last Tuesday. And I saw New Moon late last night. And it was only because several friends from the office wanted to see it, and being in bench I have nothing better to do, so I said what the heck, count me in.

I was not a fan of the first movie, Twilight. But I'd say that it was a better movie than this sequel. A year ago, I wrote that Twilight was really a love story more than it was a vampire story. The first one tells a story. This one doesn't tell much. It was all about setups. And I'm not sure if it was trying to setup a story or just an audience reaction. But considering the events that took place in the movie, I lean towards the latter.

The very first setup, said it all. And set the tone for the whole movie. I've never seen a paper cut produced that amount of blood before. And certainly not from opening a wrapped gift. For one thing, gift wrappers aren't notorious for giving paper cuts. They're very easy to tear apart. That's what makes them gift wrappers. If they're hard to tear, then we'd just call them paper and won't bother coining a term for them. But Bella, for some reason, got a nasty paper cut, spilled blood, made Edward ran away from her to protect her from, well I don't know, more paper cuts, perhaps, which resulted into a very long act of Jacob and Bella getting closer, which made me check my watch and wonder where the heck was Edward? Seriously, the Jacob-Bella plot got so long and tired that I really asked myself, where the heck was Edward? And not because I'm a fan, but I knew that in order for the movie to end, he needed to show his face again. And indeed, he showed his face again and the movie ended--- in an allusion to Romeo and Juliet, the title of the book shown at the bed of Bella Swan at the opening of the movie.

New Moon. Not much story. All setups. And it all started with a paper cut.

Trip to Sumilon Island

Sumilon Island

We were always meant to say goodbye

Every morning we walk in strides

There's the sun, the sky, and your smile

But today there's only the sun and the sky

We were always meant to say goodbye

I see you and me enjoying life's ride

Till the Earth and moon collide

But I knew even as the sun still shines of bright

We were always meant to say goodbye

You make my world come alive

In my heart your voice brings delight

Now I long for those beat through the night

We were always meant to say goodbye

We were always meant to say goodbye

Guess I need to learn to just cry

Always I dream of you by my side

But we're always meant to say goodbye

***

For Liz and Chen. Here's hoping they become best friends again. I don't believe that they were always meant to say goodbye.

Adieu, ile Maurice (or Going Home)

In a way I feel sad. There are a lot of things that I'm going to miss about Mauritius. Above everything else is the very beautiful beach situated just a short walk away from where we were housed. Some colleagues who went touring the south on my final Sunday here in Mauritius couldn't understand why I preferred to stay behind and commune with the beach. They said I missed a lot. But I doubt it. I don't like the beach just because it is picture perfect. I like everything about it. The sounds that the waves make as they hit the shore. The smell of the sea. The cool breeze. The texture of the sands against my bare feet. Sugar Beach in Flic en Flac is truly magnificent. And it's nice that it's a public beach here in Mauritius. Back in the Philippines we have to pay a lot just to gain access to a beach this beautiful. And the trip going to them would be quite long. It's a stroke of luck that our company houses short-term assignees in Flic en Flac. I thank God for the opportunity to be here. I'm a bit sad that I'm going home already. But at the end of the day I know that deep within me I'm glad to be going home. Not much has changed than when I was first asked by a colleague in Cebu after my first couple of weeks here whether I like it here or not. My answer then was that it's not nicer compared to the Philippines, but it's not also less nice. I feel neutral about it then; that it was nothing more than just a different place. And that at the end of the day, there's no place like home. Now that I'm finally going home I still feel the same way. There's no place like home.

Adieu, ile Maurice in 1 day

(I have no internet connection over the weekend so I'm posting three days worth of goodbyes to Ile Maurice.)

I will remember Flic en Flac and its nice cold weather. I will remember how I could just sleep all day under this weather.

I will remember Flic en Flac with its wonderful misty rains. I will remember how light the rain were and how beautiful they were to look at.

I will remember Flic en Flac with its public beach and its perfect sunset. I will remember sitting on the sand looking at the vast waters in front of me as I wait for the sun to go down.

Trois. Deux. Un.

Adieu, ile Maurice.

(Wow, corny na kaayo ko. Pasabot nga pauli na gyud ko sa Pilipinas. Pero mingawon gyud ko sa beach. Unta naay sama ka nindot nga beach na walking distance sa akong gapuy-an sa Cebu.)

Adieu, ile Maurice in 4 days

Quatre jours.

I will remember Flic en Flac where Le Latanier stands. I will remember the serene nights of sleep with hundreds of frogs singing the lullabye in unison.

Adieu, ile Maurice.

Adieu, ile Maurice in 5 days

Cinq jours.

I will remember Flic en Flac with its vast empty fields where sugar canes once stood. I will remember how the fields make the landscape we see on our way to work and our way home more picturesque than when I first got here.

Adieu, ile Maurice.