Got Myself Back

The day started off so wrong. Been battling with insomnia since I got my period as well as the God-awful munchies. I missed the 8:30 am fast craft to Tagbilaran so I bought another ticket for the 11am trip. So I made port at 12:45pm and did some waiting before my folks picked me up. And I thank my lucky stars that I didn't wilt from the heat. Apparently, they've been having better weather than Cebu.

Tagbilaran Pier

The moment I disembarked, the air that filled my lungs was different. It had less lead content. And I was happy that tourists were being protected from getting scalped by drivers, both taxi and pedicabs alike, from cab fares that would be worthy of Kim Henares's attention. They have huge tarpaulines stating how much is the standard fare and to report any driver who refuses to transport you to your destination (Sweet!).

I had to give in to an afternoon nap. Then I woke up to my mother's summons to watch the sambat (waterway procession) of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the patroness of Loboc, Bohol. Each year the sambat takes place at the Loboc River where several floating vessels are decorated with flowers and hymns being sung. After the river cruise, the statue of Our Lady of Guadalupe will be brought back to church. This year, it was devoid of the usual fanfare and fireworks due to the recent earthquake that decimated the church.

The last time I visited this place, it wasn't ravaged with calamities. I only had to dealt with the heat and ongoing "repair" of the roads. My mother told me to prepare myself for what the church looks like now. On our way to Loboc, we passed by Baclayon church but it wasn't that bad. Just a section was being repaired now and mass can be held inside. And this is now what remains of the Loboc church.

The section seen above is where baptisms were performed. I haven't ventured to the front but much of the place has been secured for safety and undergoing reconstruction and restoration. According to the heritage society, it might take a whopping 20 years (I fervently pray that this time frame is unstained of corruption). I have yet to see the temporary area where the mass is held. I was looking forward to relive my awe each year as I attend the mass on the day of the fiesta. It's being conducted in the dialect and unfortunately I'm not proficient with the appropriate response. I always end up craning my fat neck and gawk at the splendor of the paintings on the ceiling with their captions in Latin (Domus aureus, etc.). So this year I have nothing to gawk at and will be forcing my brain to recall who  Santiago is among the 12 apostles of Christ. Sometimes Spanish names have way too different English equivalents (Santiago=James, not Jaime=James!).

In spite of it all, I'm happy that the roads were so much better than the last time I was here and tourists have come back which would really help Bohol. And the rice fields have remained verdant so I'm hoping that this would be a good year for harvest. Viva Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe!

Bet I'm Not the Only One

I bet I'm not the only one who has ever felt the "anywhere but here" syndrome. These are the supposedly warm, elated and glad-to-be-here Kodak moments but instead it feels awkward and you wished that you stayed home but can't, so you wished that you smoked so you could excuse yourself. Alas, we all know too well how futile it is to hope that the earth will open up and swallow us whole.

I once attended a christening and expected it to be an intimate and family-only affair only to have the reality wash over me like a bucket of ice. There's no such thing as an intimate and family-only affair in the Filipino setting. RSVPs get botched up all the time here. But this is not THE part when I wished that I smoked. It's the part when I get introduced to the rest of the "family", with a small narrative of what I do for a living and my age and somebody would blurt out "When are you getting married?" (This is the part when I cut off the tip of a Cuban cigar, light it up, take a huge puff, and cock a rifle.)

Oh and the weddings! Those lovely gowns, flowers, the ambience so permeated with love. Then comes the part of the games. It's a chance to oggle and improve one's prospects. So off I go to the ladies' room and take my sweet time primping, retouching and gossiping to deliberately miss the games (I'm not that competitive). Since the wedded couple are deliriously high on their love, they have diligently come up with the list of all their single friends and handed it to the over-enthusiastic emcee, with the intent of finding a love match amongst their friends. Much to my chagrin, somebody ratted out where I was. And I could hear my name being called again and again. I summon up my courage and decided to get it over with. Improve my prospects, huh? So which is it going to be? The guy with the balding and shiny pate? The one who picked his nose at the buffet line? Or the one who's sputters saliva as he speaks? (Since this incident, I don't so weddings anymore, unless we're uber close.)

Such is the plight of a single thirty-something. You're expected to get a man, earn well and start having the 2.5 kids. Frankly, I think it's too much to have on my plate right now. But then again, nobody was born ready with life's instructional book.

What's A Single Girl to Do?

Who would have thought that I'd be asking this question out loud to myself? Yes, by all that's holy, I did blurt this out while looking at myself in the mirror. Kinda feel like crappy today, must be PMS (excuses, excuses)!  So a light bulb moment occurred and it gave birth to the idea of blogging the second time around.

I missed writing and I've been toying with the idea of getting at it. I've taken stock of all the things I've been through (a break-up, pediatric residency, being diagnosed with an ovarian cyst and endometrial hyperplasia, obesity...er, trying to get through with the latter though), and I realized that I'm grateful for all that has happened. It may sound so cliche but I wouldn't be me if it weren't for those happy-sad rollercoasters and multiple-branched forks at the road. 

For a thirty-something like me, life's recipe boils down to this:

1. A daily dose of family

2. A handful of genuine friends

3. Endless positivity and skimming the negativity

4. A sprinkle of tears

5. A bagful of happiness

6. 30-minute exercise (daily if you can)

7. At least 6 hours of sleep

8. Wearing sunscreen

9. Hydration, hydration, hydration!

10. Some boys on the side for a healthy dose of "vitamin A" for the eyes.

Just like any recipe, feel free to exclude whatever you don't want in your life or tweak it and add whatever you want to suit your taste. After all, it's important that you can take what you have just dished out. 

My conscience is now telling me to stop my musings for today and get on with some studying. Til my next post....