My week in random bullet points

Just a few things:

• I am a fickle blogger, but like to avoid the customary preamble explaining my absence.
• I enjoy reading other people's stuff. If you like, you can leave me your blog address in the comments section. I will likely follow you if you write about, as Rob Gordon puts it, the important things: books, movies, music. However, if you are also given to ranting and/ or griping about your life, that is also fine, because obviously it is your blog.
• Flipboard is probably the best thing to happen to me this month. I've never been happier to browse my feeds. Everything is so clean and pretty.
• I'm struggling with my reading in Manila because it is just too frakking hot. But being home (yes, in Baguio now), I'm looking to Christopher Moore to get me out of this slump. (In other news, you can add me on Goodreads.)
• I walked around town with my little brother this afternoon, and we talked about traveling and markets. I'm discovering what it's like to have a conversation with an adolescent sibling. It is very new and interesting.
• It is cool here at night, and my soul dry sobs at the thought of having to go back to sleeping in hell.

Later.

Misdirection

Just a couple of updates (21 April 2012; I know, I know, these should have been up earlier.): The Temporary Environmental Protection Order issued to SM has been extended until the case against them is resolved (13 April 2012). Suddenly, there is talk of soil erosion happening on Luneta Hill and that constructing a seven-storey building and a parking lot will help address it (18 April 2012). Eh? How convenient. One of the earliest environmental lessons we are taught is that the presence of vegetation reduces erosion.

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The community is in an uproar about the 182 trees SM City Baguio is cutting down (What's all this crap about earthballing?) to make room for additional parking space. The most recent piece of news is SM refuses to comply with a court order demanding it cease its midnight felling. The idea of losing those trees just for parking sickens me. I love Baguio. I love its trees. God knows I love the environment. But I have been feeling torn about the protests. I think we're barking up the wrong tree (ha-ha).

SM City Baguio is a shopping mall. Their primary objective is to make money. When fulfilling their "social/ environmental responsibility," they simply push the use of green bags and hang up poster boards about "protecting the environment." I'm sorry to say this, but that's all we can really expect from them. SM is a money-making enterprise, not a conservation initiative. Henry Sy is a businessman, not a public servant. So, I don't think the "Shame on you, SM" argument is going to fly with me. Who are we kidding?

We've all spent years going to SM Baguio. We've shopped there, eaten there, seen movies there. I'm a sucker for their Bills Payment Center. They've made life a hell of a lot easier. We overlooked the fact that before there was SM, there happened to be a greenspace on Luneta Hill. A true greenspace with aesthetic and ecological value. And I'll tell you, there were a lot more than 182 trees. But we went to SM anyway. Our memories are so short. Now it's happening again, we're so quick to turn on The Big Bad Corporation. We've lapped up the convenience of having a mall, and suddenly we're all so indignant about 182 trees.

What did we expect, honestly? We were screwed the moment SM Development was allowed into the City. We lost those trees the moment esteemed members of the city council had their pockets lined with Big Bad Corporation dough. Bayad na eh. Matagal na. It pisses me off that the failings of those actually responsible for the ecological well-being of this City are only an afterthought in this battle for the trees. Members of the local government, these so-called public servants, have betrayed us time and time again. Oh sure, there have been different faces, but it's the same inadequate administration. They allowed SM to colonize our City, among other lamentable crimes. These supposed leaders opened their legs for commercialism, and have been whoring away Baguio's soul since. They condone the actions of SM now, and are getting away with it. Development in our City has been going in the wrong direction for a long time.

A couple of weeks ago, this article appeared in the Baguio Midland Courier and sent me off the rails. A little bit from that piece:

"The city council committee on health, sanitation, and environment stated that it is not the proper body to act on the demand of concerned groups opposed to the project for the council to support their cause."

So who exactly, if not a committee for the environment, should have been keeping an eye on the trees?

In Camp John Hay, even more widespread clearing of trees has been happening under our noses. These pine trees are getting cut down to accommodate the construction of hotels and townhouses people from Baguio can't afford themselves. The pine cover in the trails are thinning out while the area for golf courses appears to be increasing. Important fern and shrub species are getting cleared with no thought as to how this might affect the ecosystem. Camp John Hay is an urban greenspace, if there ever was one. It is a habitat, provides clean air, and improves the climate. It is one of the few remaining areas near the center with a pine forest. Who is looking out for the trees and the plants there? The people of Baguio must fight for ALL of the trees.

The 182 have become famous. But if you ask me, it shouldn't have gotten to a point where we could already count the trees.

(Also, while we're at it, bakit kasi kailangan ng additional parking sa SM? Dahil marami na masyadong kotse at taxi sa Baguio. Nakakapikon.)

Home again.

Interverse, did I not tell you that I was back home? That's right, again. I'm here to do some data gathering for a special problem for my terrestrial sampling methods class (Did you also feel that I am sharing unnecessarily here? Because I'm typing this and I have a feeling you won't really care.) Anyhow, plunging on shamelessly, the sampling is done! Yes, this morning, while it was shining and John Hay smelled all of pine and dew. We saw a black labrador and lots of ferns. So many ferns.

This is my mother. She was my RA for the day, even when she could have been sleeping in on the weekend. She's the best.

After, the boys met up with us and Pa took us out to Army Navy for lunch in that new Convergys place (My fine Baguio folk, please. Do not roll your eyes at my belatedness, this place is still novel to me.) I had the steak burrito, and was satisfied as always. However: Army Navy, you know you totally strum my guitar, but you seriously need to rethink your condiments. I am nuts about your cream thing, but more salsa I say! Plus, your lemon wedge is not so much a wedge as half a wedge. Acid is the secret source of your burrito's power. Give me a full wedge!

(Before I forget: my baby brother is taller than me and there are unknowable things happening to his voice.)

And then, Booksale after. It was on sale more than it usually is because the rest of SM is on sale. So:

What was a Bukowski doing there? For only P127 too. And finally, a copy of What Was She Thinking? (Notes on a Scandal) because it was only P45 and didn't have the movie cover. I can be obsessive like that. Also, Booksale is cheeky (read: bookmark). That's why we love them.

At the end of the day, we dropped by the SM Supermarket. Boys and girls, maiawawannak idiay. The tocino and the tapa were not where they normally are. I wanted to sit quietly in a corner and wait for my father to come get me. Because that is what you are supposed to do if you get lost.

There is an art to packing groceries. When I was younger and there was no SM Supermarket, we used to shop in local grocery stores like U-Need or Victoria's or 5 Cents Up or Sunshine. The bag boys could fit everything we bought in three bags or less. They were genius packers, efficient in their use of space and quick with their hands. They would momentarily approximate the relative sizes and shapes of the items, and find the perfect nook for them in each white plastic bag. When you carried the bags, things didn't stick out to poke you in the leg. The bottoms would be flat so the bags would be upright when you put them down. And the eggs were always on top. When you had too many items for plastic bags, the boys would suggest you would be much better off with a box. Everything would fit neatly in there too, tied up with straw, a perfect handle knotted at the top for easy transport. In SM, they just toss things thoughtlessly into huge plastic bags. Weekly grocery shoppers tend to end up with six or seven loads. It is a wasteful process. Remember when we said we would stop using plastic?

Later, dancing hippos. I am tired of looking at plants.

Home.

Ickle weblings, hearken! Join me in my elation. I am home.

It has been a strange week, where I was unable to identify my emotions and I have been dragging my feet. I texted Lem to complain about my waning academic drive (a different story), and he assured me that all would be well when I'd get home: "You'll have a few days to refocus here." He was right. As soon as the cold enveloped me, my mind started to clear.

I have always loved October. While September is the cusp of the seasons, October has always signaled the arrival of true cold. This is when the air starts to become crisp, a preview of what December and January will be like. The colors of the city thrum with an animated glow, and I feel my blood come alive. This is how I know things are never as bad as they seem.

September in the chair

Happy Baguio Day!

To celebrate, I give you one of my favorite pieces of trivia about the city:

Bobby Fischer, perhaps the greatest chess player of all time, lived in Baguio from 2000 to 2002. The man was a legend. Possessed with genius far beyond his time, he became the youngest grandmaster at the tender age of 15. In 1972, he beat the Russian grandmaster Boris Spassky and became World Champion. He was to defend his title against Anatoly Karpov in 1975, but refused to play when his proposed conditions for the match were not approved. He retreated from the public eye soon after. He became a recluse and did not play competitively for almost 20 years. In 1992, he re-surfaced for a re-match with Boris Spassky, which he won. In a 2004 Bombo Radyo interview, he referred to Spassky as his " very good frenemy."

He lived a quiet life in Baguio, spending time with his then-partner Marilyn Young and the Filipino grandmaster Eugene Torre. I read in an article that he enjoyed balut and sinigang, and played tennis at Country Club. He appreciated the simple things, content to take relaxing walks in the cool climate and be surrounded by people he loved and trusted. He, like many of us who love Baguio, knew what this city is about.

Installation art is the new pine tree (a correction)

Whoops! A correction. (Sorry everyone, I should have looked before I leaped.) This new installment is in commemoration of the Philippine Commission's first session, which was held in the city on 22 April to 11 June 1904. A large piece of art now occupies what was once the site of the notorious concrete pine tree. The eight structures represent the eight members of the second Philippine Commission whose first session was convened in Baguio City: Governor-General Luke E. Wright, Henry C. Ide, Dean C. Worcester, T. H. Pardo de Tavera, Benito Legarda, Jose R. de Luzuriaga, James F. Smith, and W. Cameron Forbes. It was also during this meeting that Baguio City was declared for use as the Summer Capital. You can actually read about the Philippine Commission on the marker at the entrance of Baden Powell Inn in Governor Pack Road :)

But there's more! This, from SunStar Baguio:

The monument is made of locally quarried stones of different forms representing the people of different races which contributed to the building of today’s Baguio.

The uneven shape and figures of the boulders together with the carved spheres represent Baguio’s construction and reconstruction – its growth from a pastureland to a city, its rise from the devastation of war and it’s rebirth after the killer quake, its continuous growth and development as a unique and sustainable city.

The spheres represent the visions and dreams, the continuous efforts of its citizens to keep Baguio a safe and beautiful place to be.

The complete article here.

It's better than a concrete pine tree, I'll give you that.

Farewell, concrete pine tree. And good riddance.

Since its construction in 1994, the infamous concrete pine tree of Session Road was the object of our ridicule, disdain, and even, anger. Possibly even more infuriating than the tree was its accompanying sign: "Plant Me and Protect Me." Then mayor Bernardo Vergara claimed that the tree was to encourage the protection of the City's remaining pine trees. Many were skeptical about the old mayor's intentions because, perhaps, of the prominent "V" embossed on the statue's base. Was it truly an act of environmental advocacy, or a bare attempt at political promotion?

Residents clamored for its removal, using every avenue of communication to get through to the City's administration. Letters were sent to City Hall, some even coming from Baguio people already living in other countries. Numerous petitions were filed, circulating through cyberspace via e-mail and signature sites. A friend once sent me a text message about a plot to cover the whole thing in sayote. Among many movements, this was one of the most brilliant.

After years, the people have finally been heard. The concrete pine tree, our bane, has finally been taken down.

When Pa, Jake, and I rode by on a jeep yesterday evening, the area was still covered with plastic sheets. Through a gap, I could see workers toiling away, pushing around large, flat rocks. They would occasionally consult with a group of people issuing directions from the side. I sat near the front of the jeep and could hear the driver and his friends talking about it as we passed. One friend enthusiastically pointed at the work in progress, declaring that a "scrapture" was going to be built there. Sculpture or structure, I am just as excited as this guy. I feel as if a weight has been lifted off the city's proverbial shoulders. We will finally be rid of that concrete abomination.

The current mayor has taken pains to keep the replacement a secret. Apparently, he wants it to be a surprise for the Panagbenga celebration. A real nightmare would be if they put up something even more stupid than a fake tree. Knowing this administration and its less than luminous track record, it is not such a distant possibility.

I don't know if the installment has been unveiled, because I haven't been to town yet today. The streets are packed with people to watch the Panagbenga street dancing parade (The Grand Parade will be tomorrow). Traffic is impossible and going out is a dim likelihood. Nevertheless, until I see the top of Session Road, I rest easy that the concrete pine tree is now a thing of the past.

Dog and his person go for a walk

Sometime after the doormat debacle, Rako and Ludwig got into a couple of bloody battles. Rako went Mike Tyson on Ludwig's ass: the shepherd's ear was badly ripped and now droops at a defeated ninety-degree angle to his head. In those last fights, Rako had the upper hand, his youth and size finally coming into the fore. On the other hand, everyone at home has been worried about the older dog whose brown fur is still stained with blood. The violence has been upsetting, especially to the younger residents.

An uneasy truce (more like an enforced stalemate) currently exists between the warring factions. A gate has been installed at the entrance of the backyard, effectively barring the dogs from one another. Father and son on one side, the lab on the other.

Confined to the front yard, Rako has been getting loud and restless. His attitude towards the other two dogs has been confrontational, because he feels that ascension is nigh. Of course, Ludwig will have none of it and is equally fierce. Jamfong has been wise to sit out the major scuffles, but continues to engage in trash talk.

Rako and I hadn't gone for a walk since December and it was obvious he needed it. Legs of the weary and unaware have fallen to his manic humping. It can be terrifying to have a hulking mass of black fur getting the freaky on with your right leg.

So today, to take a break from all the fighting and humping, Rako and I went for a walk.

We walked up to Bayan Park in Aurora Hill and took photos of the trees and the grass and the backside of a concrete elephant.

 

It was early morning so there were joggers and kids still on their way to school. Other people were also out with their dogs; some of them carried their wards up and down the walkway.

 

 

I like to think some of Rako's pent-up energy is back in the Universe. He spent most of the day napping.

Save Baguio Athletic Bowl 2 (Also, #100)

UPDATE: The Facebook group previously known as "save baguio athletic bowl from the koreans" has been re-named "save the burnham park movement." Its new mission here. Now for some very good news: Resolution 515, which allowed the mayor to enter into a Memorandum of Agreement with the Korean investors, has just been re-called. Kudos.

Today, concerned Baguio citizens came together at the Baguio Athletic Bowl to show their support against its privatization.

 

 

Just a couple of updates:

Councilor Pinky Rondez made a privilege speech at the City Council yesterday, expressing her own protests against the lease and proposed development plan. When the council met to sign the MOA on 21 December 2009, she was absent. She is currently at the helm of the Burnham Park Development.

An outpouring of indignation from the online community has shaken the MOA's undersigned. Many of the councilors who previously supported the deal are now withdrawing their signatures. Like rats deserting a sinking ship. On the other hand, Mr. Peter Rey Bautista continues to stand by his actions, deliberately dismissing the online protests. In the SunStar today, Councilor Betty Tabanda asks the enraged public to be reasonable. Well, where was reason when the council by-passed transparency and excluded the public to rush the MOA?

Another Facebook group, Petition Against Baguio Athletic Bowl MOA, has been put up. It's true, Koreans are looking to develop a historic piece of public land, but the anger towards them is a little misplaced. The first group, which implored us to "save baguio athletic bowl from the koreans," was the initial emotional outburst from people who love this City. It has been instrumental in getting the issue out online, as well as bringing people together for a demonstration of support. Now, we must set our sights on the real offenders. Current and previous administrations have made it easy for the Koreans to take Baguio piece by piece. The local government let these people have their way, with no thought to consequence. There simply was no sense of duty, or interest, to protect the City and its residents. These so-called leaders would have us feel like strangers in our own home. They sold us out.

SAVE BAGUIO ATHLETIC BOWL

 

Save Baguio Athletic Bowl

When I was young, my father took me to Baguio Athletic Bowl to go jogging. I would make my way around the huge ring, vowing to complete at least two and a half laps. My ten-year old legs would not fail. A few years later, I would sit in the bleachers, cheering with 200 of my City High batch mates. Dressed and painted in bright colors seen even from the far end of the field, we shouted battle cries. The silent drill, in particular, required intense concentration. We clapped our hands and stomped our feet in perfect unison, forming elaborate patterns that would have looked impressive had anyone been watching from the sky.

Over at Baguio Insider, Lisa writes that the mayor and city council have approved a 25-year lease of the Athletic Bowl to a Korean company. The Koreans will pay P100,000 a month for twenty-five (25) years with a 10% increase after five (5) years. The deal was brokered within a short period of ten days, the city council neglecting to call a public hearing for such a bogus major proposal. Mayor Peter Rey Bautista signed the Memorandum of Agreement on December 11, 2009 and the council confirmed it on December 21. Easy money.

As part of their development plan, the shady Koreans propose to build a hotel and driving range (god, more golf) in the area they've supposedly leased. The mayor and a majority of the city council have allowed a group of people who do not know or love Baguio to ruin an outdoor recreation area that has been around for nearly a hundred years. Once again, they have betrayed Baguio and its people for a fat sum. They pimped out a landmark for campaign money, or whatever it is they got.

Athletic Bowl has seen better days, but its current state of disrepair is just another reflection of bad governance. Nevertheless, it is still a public park, which city officials cannot just rent out to the highest bidder. I hope May will be an opportunity to begin rectifying the damage from a string of poor administrations.

A Facebook page has been created to "save the baguio athletic bowl from the koreans."

In the mail

This morning, I dropped by the post office to pick up a package. The parcel section is in the building annex on the side nearest Cathedral, right next to the turo-turo. It is a small room filled with packages of every imaginable size, organized in an arcane filing system understood only by a few. The lady in charge of the division is pleasant and easy to talk to. She remembers me from an earlier encounter, where I had to take home two boxes that had made a round trip to the Netherlands. A long-ish table conveniently obstructs the entrance, preventing over-eager callers from disturbing the stacks.

The package I received was from a family friend who lives in India. The contents were bound in a durable piece of cloth, its edges sewn and sealed with red wax:

Inside was a Christmas card and a bag of wonderful Assam tea:

In an era when nearly every correspondence is digital, it's refreshing to literally get something in the mail. I think, because e-mails and instant messages can be transferred so easily, the value of sending and receiving an actual letter is overlooked. Many must think snail mail is a dated practice and it probably is, but there is a rush from holding an object that traveled through considerable space and time to get to your corner of the world. This is where the idea "Someone far away is thinking of you" is most tangible. It's also exciting to find something in the mailbox addressed specifically to you. I do love surprises.

Today on KubiTV

Being back home, I've reverted to the role of glorified Bill-Payer. The money doesn't necessarily come from me (ha-ha), but I do literally pay the bills. I spend lots of time in lines and run into all kinds of situations, not all of them pleasant.

This morning, I went to the bills payment center on the third floor of SM Department Store (wasn't I just talking about this place?) and discovered that it does provide the intended convenience. They accept payments for insurance, utilities, most communication and internet service providers, and major credit card companies. The water bill still needs to be settled at the Baguio Water District in Utilities Road, about half a kilometer from the mall. But as I understand it, negotiations are underway for SM to begin receiving water payments. Imagine if that happened. I could accomplish bill-paying duties in one fell swoop. This is great news on the domestic front.

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Slim pickings at the movies. Lem and I saw Ninja Assassin and are thankful our tickets were free. The action scenes were probably wicked...if we could see them. We admit, the ninjas vanishing into the shadows was pretty cool. On the other hand, every other action scene fizzled in bad light and ended too soon. Yes, we know that ninjas move with preternatural speed and should make discreet kills, but what is a ninja movie without properly visible fights?

For one shining moment, when the ninjas massively kick Europol ass, I imagined the movie was a pointed jab at Western ignorance. I was wrong. The police eventually use heavy Western artillery to decimate the ninja clan's mountain hideaway. I am thinking too much.

I did like the scene where Rain's character, Raizo, practices stealth on a nightingale floor. One misstep and the woodwork sings like a bird, alerting the target to an intruder's presence. In Japanese history, paranoid leaders had these floors installed in their palaces as a security measure against assassinations. I remember Takeo from Lian Hearn's amazing novel Across the Nightingale Floor. I think I'll re-read it for a real ninja fix.

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Now that I'm blogging again, I've begun narrating events of my life in my head. I find angles to write about and test out working sentences to myself. This is a useful mental exercise that draws away from my usual train of thought. The people closest to me are up to their eyeballs in my frequent random bursts of neurosis. Restarting the writing habit has been good for my brain, which is becoming addled from disuse.

Peace

One of the advantages of taking Jake to school is that I get to enjoy Baguio in the morning. The sky is so clear, the moon has nowhere to hide. Clouds float lazily along, mindless of the vast expanse of icy blue. Except students with early classes, there aren't many people out on the streets. You can walk without being rushed, move without bumping into strangers. Vehicles make quick progress down the road because early morning traffic is barely traffic at all. The air is clean so that when you inhale, there is just a whiff of pine. The breeze makes itself known on your skin and in your hair, but never through your sweater. This is Baguio as it should be.

The birth of cold

There is a characteristic chill in the air - the sort I normally expect to begin in October. Out in the sun, the heat is almost intolerable. In the shade, the cold burns the skin. I am home.

Objects appear more defined, as if the lower temperature has sharpened the edges of things. Nature is adventurous with her palette. During the day, the sky is impossibly blue. At dusk, the sunset is an opera of bold fuchsia tones. The hills are green carpets with bright yellow dots: the sunflowers are in bloom. We are lucky to even have them this year. They, like the soul of this City, are disappearing.

Yesterday, I made spaghetti for lunch. It was quiet, and the kitchen was glowing with the yellow light of the afternoon. If I spend enough time cooking, I stop thinking. All I feel is the heat of the stove and the knife handle as I chop garlic. The faint sizzling of sautéing onions is the most wonderful sound. I miss my mother.

Last night, I fell asleep under three blankets. I spun a cheetah 360 degrees in the air by its tail, threw it at a horde of zombies chasing me, and ran for all I was worth. Then I woke up. A cocoon of heat cultivates eventful REM.

Rako spent the morning under the sun so when I touched him his fur was warm. His nose was cold, though. My cheeks were duly informed.

Once I have established warmth, it is difficult to get up. This does not bode well for household chores. Or personal hygiene. I doubt that clean hair is more important than warm toes.

The pile is growing

Update 7.31.2008: The city council has trashed (ha-ha) Vice-mayor Fariñas' proposal to place Baguio under a state of calamity. This article reports the decision and talks about alternative solutions.

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Updates on the Baguio garbage problem.

City officials are looking to declare Baguio City in a state of calamity (more here). Vice-mayor Fariñas says that tapping into the calamity fund may assist in financing possible solutions. It may take about Php9 million monthly to have the trash transported to dumpsites outside the city. Clark, Pampanga is one possible destination.

Health officials warn that poor sanitation in the city could lead to disease. Tourism will likely suffer ("On your right, ma'am, is last week's uncollected garbage. Notice how the colors and smells just come alive! They jump right at you!"). People are grumpy about seeing garbage at every turn and grumble about bad governance. The entire city feels neglected.

But, again, we can do something about our own trash. You can refuse plastic bags in stores and carry your purchases in your own bags. Jessica Zafra writes that plastic is evil and suggests that we don't need it when we shop. And a manicured, sili-buying lady convinces Padma that all is not lost for Baguio.

Trash talk

"Kubi! Kubi! KUBIIII!" my tita screeched, knocking wildly on the gate. I was napping and the sound of my aunt's slightly hysterical voice shocked me into waking. I ran to the door, and yanked it open.

"Darasem! Agiwar ka basura yon ta adda diyay truck!" (Quick! Take out your trash because the truck is coming this way!) she told me in one breath, her eyes wide with urgency. I sobered at that and felt the sleep seep out of my limbs. I nodded and walked purposefully to the back room. I hauled out an immense black plastic bag and carried it out unto the street. There, in the distance, I saw people busily loading similar burdens into something I had not seen in weeks: a garbage truck. I felt a rush of relief, heartened by the prospect of bidding two weeks' worth of accumulated garbage adieu. I spent the next few minutes methodically rounding up stray bags. The truck was mere meters away. My titas and I waited outside, bristling with unconcealed excitement.

"Does it look full to you?" one of my aunts whispered to no one in particular. I squinted into the darkness and made out three men jumping up and down on the back of the truck, heroically defying the laws of matter. I shook my head vehemently. This lone truck, I liked to believe, held the ticket to our sanity(-ation). My tita's doubt was infectious, but I beat it back.

The garbage truck started to move. We leaned forward hopefully...and watched an impressive pile of refuse make its slow procession down the street, completely ignoring our own expectant heap. Looks of bewilderment, cries of dismay! My titas and I waved frantically at the barangay kagawads following the truck. It's full, they said. We'll be back tomorrow, they assured us. Heads bowed and shoulders slumped, we carried our bags defeatedly across the street. We would have to wait until the next day before we could rid ourselves of this bane.

So it goes in Baguio City these days. The Irisan dumpsite has been closed, because many fear a repeat of the Payatas tragedy and because there is just too much trash. Negotiations to share dumpsites with neighboring towns have been futile in the hands of our blundering mayor. Government action is achingly slow. Our streets are lined with garbage bags trying very hard to look neat, but failing miserably. The wind carries a rotting, putrid smell not even pine can mask. The rain hastens the decomposition process so that maggots and other fauna easily colonize the accumulated waste. Why not, my dad suggested over dinner, hire a dumptruck and have them unload all of our garbage in front of City Hall? That would definitely get the officials moving.

While we consider the logisitics of this plan, we can try to ease up on trash production. The action of one will hardly make a dent, but the collective efforts of many will. Also starring in this great act are the basic R's we couldn't get enough of in elementary: Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle. The simplest things really work. For instance, you can avoid throwing away food by cooking just enough for you and your family. Carry groceries in your own canvas bag. Buy a sturdy water bottle and keep refilling that instead of adding to the growing heap of plastic bottles. Recycled paper is always the bomb-- print a report on the clean side of used paper. It's back to basics for the people of Baguio.

For this city, the garbage problem is a fall from grace. Is it possible for Baguio's Cleanest and Greenest Hall of Fame spot to get revoked?

The end of the sem, Marikina, and Dumbledore

I concluded this semester with an incomplete and a half-finished paper. I watched Roger Federer lose at the Madrid Masters final. (It was to David Nalbandian, who beat out Novak Djokovic and Rafael Nadal to get there. Apparently, the guy was having a rough season, so crushing the first three seeds to win your first Masters shield after a dry spell is quite a comeback.) That was the first full match I'd seen with him playing. Despite these things, I'm unexpectedly fine. It must have something to do with being in Baguio.

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Something strange happened last night. As I was getting into bed, I suddenly felt something akin to longing for the house in Marikina. It was only for a split second, but the feeling made me realize that the old house has left an impression on me. At the end of a hot, tiring day, it was where I would retreat to set up for the next grind. My house mates and I would sit around the dining table, comparing notes on our daily tribulations. We would laugh our way out of misery, and took comfort in little things like Boy Bawang and vinegar. Sometimes, when it rained too hard, the ceiling would leak. But we were always comfortable, perfectly happy with a series DVD playing on our long-lived TV. The rats who live between the second floor and the living room would make things go bump in the night. These are our house sounds. Occasionally, a mouse would venture into the human world and entertain us with its acrobatics. We've even done impressions. Overall, living in Manila wasn't so bad. I had friends and a home.

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JK Rowling has revealed that Dumbledore is gay. Now, people are beginning to pick apart the real nature of his relationship with the wizard Grindelwald, who was quite the looker. But how dense am I? I seriously thought they were only friends. I need a lesson in reading between the lines. This revelation adds a new dimension to the Potter books, and it's encouraging to read that fans are as supportive as ever. If anything, people are loving the fact that someone who could wipe the floor with Voldemort has...er...alternate tendencies. Kudos to Dumbledore. I find it especially endearing that he decimated the guy who broke his heart. If everyone could settle heartache through a wizard duel, the world would be a better place.

Going home

The first post I ever wrote for Baguio Below was - you guessed it - on Baguio. I put up the site originally to be a lasting testament to the place I grew up in. In turns, I am exasperated by and totally in love with this place.

Like many of the residents, I lament that Baguio has lost most, if not all, of its magic. Our descent into normal has a lot to do with SM. People flock to The Mall to enjoy shallow entertainment and spend hard-earned cash to satisfy the ravenous appetite of a consumerist economy. I've had my fair share of quality distraction in that place so I don't really disapprove of it. I'm only concerned we may be enjoying SM too much. The Mall makes fun mindless. We've stopped thinking up interesting ways for recreation. We've ceased being creative about how we spend our time. I need to relax, let's go to SM! I'm depressed, let's go to SM! I need to contemplate my sordid adolescent existence, let's go out for coffee in SM! I need to watch a censored film, let's go see a movie in SM! Eat in SM, shop in SM, breathe in SM! SM is the answer to everything!...sorry. I got a little hysterical there. But you get the picture.

Baguio was a haven for people who wanted to get away. Artists came here to clear their minds and find inspiration amid the pine trees. Now it has become the stressful environment people want to get away from. We see more gray concrete than the greens and browns of trees; feel more stifling heat than cooling breezes; hear more traffic noises than the refreshing sound of silence; smell the sweat on a thousand human bodies more than the clean tangy scent of pine; taste the bitter panacea of commercialism more than the savory flavors of eccentricity.

The local government measures modernization in terms of how many McDonald's branches there are in the city. In its eyes, development means the construction of malls and silly cement trees. Buildings higher than four floors are sprouting out of the forgetful minds of our city architects. (That thing in 1990 was just a little tremor, nothing more.) City Hall's idea of convenience is a battalion of taxicabs clogging our streets and making our air un-breathable. Economic success is based on how many English tutors are hired by rich Koreans who presume they can make it snow in a place that, for thousands of years, has reveled in bitingly cold, dry Decembers. Academic excellence is evaluated on the basis of how quickly a substandard nursing school can be put up.

The only thing I regret about not registering is not being able to help decide how my city is going to be run. Philippine national politics sickens me. It's the country's longest running joke. I don't want to trouble myself with a government knee-deep in its own shit. On the other hand, I see local politics as more tangible. The decisions made by the local government are readily perceived by the residents of a place. The ripples of their actions immediately touch everyone: from the frustrated pechay vendor in front of PNB to the student trying to pay 6 pesos to a cranky driver on a Saturday.

In the same way I will have to endure changes in my life, my city will have to do the same. But no matter how much our faces change, I will always belong to this mountain place. Baguio will always be my home.