A tour to remember (Part 1)

It wasn’t in our plans. In fact, it was for something else — a book launching cum poetry reading — that we were at La Salle Taft last Saturday. But we arrived very late for the event so we decided to go elsewhere after lunch and tête á tête with the author (para naman hindi sayang ang lakad at porma namin, hehe).

So, despite the indicisive weather, Salve, Tayns and I retraced some periods of Philippine history with only my digi-cam and Tayns’ phone-cam — in our high-heeled shoes (semi for Tayns) — and went home fatigued and with calloused feet, but in high spirits.

The destination? Luneta and its neighboring areas. Yup, that very same place young people (including myself when I was much younger) regard as the place to-be for the jologs; and conversely, the must-avoid place for the cool, young ones.

(Good thing I eventually realized that Luneta (and its neighboring areas) is not at all jologs; that in fact, it is a historical place whose significance had not been diminished through the years.)

Here are some of the places we visited (plus some historical trivia, personal commentary, side-comments and what-evs).


The National Museum
Entrance Fee: P100 (free on Sundays)
Cameras not allowed inside

The National Museum houses artifacts recovered from ship wreckages; among them, the San Diego. The finds at the said shipwreck are said to have provided proofs that before the coming of the Spaniards, there had been an active trade between the Philippines and its neighboring countries.

Also at the national museum are artifacts that serve as proofs that the early Filipinos were seafarers. The theory (that our ancestors might have been seafarers) was made long before physical proofs to support or disprove it were unearthed, and basing mainly on the fact that the country is surrounded by significant bodies of water.

There are a lot more to see at the museum, such as artifacts that give us a glimpse of the life of the early Filipinos (suits, accessories, implements, and so on), and works of art, such as paintings and sculptures.


The Orchidarium
Located within Luneta Park
Entrance fee: P20

“Misnamed” was our first impression of this garden. It was so green, and it even had a falls and climbing wall; but it was colorful orchids we had expected to see. Unluckily, besides the bamboo orchid near the entrance, we did not see any.

Still, the place is worth seeing.


Japanese Garden/Chinese Garden
Located within Luneta park
Entrance fee: P5

The Japanese Garden and the one next to it — The Chinese Garden — have been sitting here for decades, but it seems no one knew of their existence (It was only when our magazine featured them last year that I got to know of them). These places are a perfect respite for tired and weary souls, for despite the fact that a busy road is nearby, thick canopy of old trees muffles the sound of the roaring vehicles.

Japanese symbol. This marker, according to Celestine and Salve, is a symbol that a Japanese temple is nearby (except here, of course). I can easily check out the veracity of their claim, but as they had been sent to Japan to study Japanese language and culture (Salve as exchange student; and Tayns as Japanese embassy scholar), I just have to trust that they are right about it.

A tour to remember (Part 2)

Rizal Monument and more
Kilometer Zero

Dr. Jose Rizal. Call me whatever you like, but it was only last Saturday that I learned why the Rizal shrine is well guarded. Silly me, but I had always thought it is to show respect to the great martyr; until Salve told Tayns and me that it is the three gold stars (which, according to her, stands for Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao) engraved on the monument that they are guarding.

La Madre Filipina. This piece of stone is personally significant to me because my Tatang and I spent quite a long time here last summer, trying to interpret it. And it was somewhere between this monument and the one next to it — Binhi ng Kalayaan monument — that I realized I was falling for him. Waaaaa!



The sentinel of freedom (or simply Lapu-lapu) monument. Inaugurated on February 5, 2004, this piece of stone is a recent addition at the park.


Calesa ride. Your tour around the historic city will not be complete if you don’t try the calesa ride. The three of us think that it’s one of the highlights of our impromptu tour.

Intramuros

The walled city. Intramuros served as the political, educational, religious and cultural center of the Spanish government. Today, the historical buildings in the area have been turned into government offices.

Palacio de Governador. The oldest palace in the country.

A tour to remember (Part 3)

Fort Santiago

Named in honor of Spain’s patron saint James, Slayer of Moors (Santiago Matamoros), Fort Santiago served as the military headquarters of our conquerors (Spanish, British, American and Japanese). Hundreds of men and women were jailed, tortured and executed here. It was also at Fort Santiago that Dr. Jose Rizal was imprisoned from November 3 1896 until his execution on December 30 of that year.

Me and Tatang. I mean, me talking to “Tatang” on the phone. Salve aimed the camera at me, and I said to Tatang, “Salve’s gonna take a photo of us. Pose ka ha? Say “cheese!” Hehehe

Losing it (my poise, that is). My sandals got so irritated with me walking on them, they rebelled against me; so I carried them for a change, while Salve and Celestine traced Rizal’s footsteps.

Jose Rizal’s cell. It was here where the national hero stayed until the morning of December 30, 1896 when he was brought out, and made to march to Bagumbayan (Luneta) … towards death. The brass shoeprints trace the path Rizal took when he walked to his execution site.

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P.S. Hey folks! Learn from our mistake. If you intend to visit the areas we’ve toured, I suggest you go to Fort Santiago first. From there, go to Luneta, and watch a light show of Jose Rizal’s execution. We did our tour backwards. Kaloka!

The arrogance of “old age”

When my “Tatang” (not my Dad) saw a picture of me and my team, he said he would no longer read our mag because “the team is so young.” He ranted that young people don’t know much about life; hence, they don’t have much to write about. He demanded in Iluko, “Why would I read what you guys write? Reading your magazine is a waste of my time! Tell me, what do you know about life?”

Anyone who knows me would have expected me to come up with a witty comeback, and maybe, even tell my “Tatang” to get lost. But either I wasn’t myself then, or I was simply in a jovial mood, that I merely laughed at my “Tatang’s” comment; the thought of defending my team did not even cross my mind.

But then, after he had hung up and the laughter had died down, I thought I should have risen up to the challenge. Anyway, with him, I can say anything and he will just laugh it off. In fact, come to think of it, he might have even expected (or hoped?) to hear a piece of my mind about the “issue” at hand; as it was so obvious then that he was trying to “provoke” me.

It’s not yet late though. What I failed to say over the phone, I can always write in my blog, as he visits it regularly, anyway.

And what is it that I wish I should have told him?

That I think his comment reflects the arrogance of old age; that some “oldies” simply tend to underestimate what the youth are capable of, forgetting the fact that they themselves were young once; and it was in fact when they were much younger that they were most productive, and when their thinking was the sharpest.

I still have a lot of things to say on the issue, but I prefer to “resolve” them on the phone. Lagot siya kapag…

“Kring… Kring…”

Ooooooppppsss! Excuse me, folks! Hehehehehe


Caption: Me and my team: Ellen, SEB, Manong Ricco and Chie. Not in photo, Ryan

Your footsteps, my guide

Your footsteps, I had them to guide me through,
Upon them, through them, Father, I saw
The road you took, hard and long; your progress, slow
Grueling was your journey; that I now know.

Up to the crossroads, your footsteps took me, Father
And I noticed, such a long time thy footsteps spent there
They found it hard to decide which way to proceed
Would it be left or right; or how about straight ahead?

They took the left path, their steps tentative; then up ahead
A screech I heard; as a sharp break then a U-turn they made
Then to the crossroad, slowly they made their way back
contemplating, hoping, that better would be the right path.

So the right trail, after much thought, they decided to try
There was so much to see there, so much to find
But soon they realized, the path was leading them
Nowhere near where they stored their dream.

To go back and try the other way was the right thing to do,
they thought; but it was already too late to do so, they knew
So instead they moved forward, trying to find the good thing
upon them, the journey that they pursued, could bring.

I know, thy footsteps faltered several times; I did hear their cries
Stumbling, I heard them groan; and those sounds are their sighs.
But proud I am to see they continued with their trek, still
Inch by inch they moved; now to the finish line, they’re near.

Right there are your footsteps now; Oh, I see them clearly
Still moving onward, though now, rather more slowly
Seeing that plateau they’ve reached; please let me tell thee
The road they’ve taken was tough, but tougher are they, Daddy.

Just look at the humps they’ve had to pass through along the way
Not tripping over those monsters, good at dodging they must be, I say
The good maneuvers they’ve done; the curves they’ve straightened
Oh, for those who might follow thee, the road they’ve smoothened.

That journey of yours, I know it’s not easy, Daddy
But look where your small steps brought you and me
The tears you shed, the beads of sweat you let drop
Please know, Father, that they won’t be for naught.

And now, at that very same crossroad you once crossed, I stand
Trying to decide which way to take; please do understand
The path you chose I might not take; that you know, don’t you Daddy?
Still, I ask thee to bless me; that fruitful may my journey be.

Worry not now, your footsteps brought me this far
Upon them, through them, much I did gather
The road might be hard and long; and my progress, slow
This journey could be grueling; all these, I know.


For my father, my guide, my hero Manuel D. Benosa, Sr.
[Sherma E. Benosa, in my chamber; July 12, 2006; 11:40pm]

GUMIL MM meeting and more

I was invited to a meeting of GUMIL MM last Sunday, ironically, by still-would-be member of the organization, Jake Ilac, who was — and I suppose, still is — a member of GUMIL Lasam. (Thanks, Jake!)

Though the invitation was short notice (Jake “texted” me the day before, but it was only on Sunday am that I got to reply to him, and find out about the meeting), I still managed to haul myself to that place called “Bagong Silang” where the meeting took place. (Kaloka, Ang layo pala! But mind you, I even got there ahead of some folks! Hah!)

It was when I was already with the group that I realized it had been more than a year since the last time I attended a GUMIL meeting. But still, the welcome was very warm. It seemed like it was only a session, not many, that I missed. The Manongs are so fun to be with that I always enjoy being with them; never mind that it usually takes us at least 4 hours to discuss what normally could be tackled in a little more than an hour. I simply find “hanging out” with them a relaxing diversion to my otherwise hectic life.

And my day, which I envisioned to be a lazy one before I received Jake’s SMS, turned out to be quite fruitful. Not only was I able to talk to Manong Cles about the research I’m planning to do for my socio-linguistics class, but I also learned a few things from the meeting. And more than that, there was an issue discussed which I am particularly interested in — literary workshop, the very thing I need. You see, I have yet to attend such a workshop. And knowing that most, if not all, of the good writers went through that phase, I also want to subject myself and my writings to such exercise so that I may improve as a “writer.”

At the moment, I don’t consider myself a full-fledge writer because I have yet to write that piece I’d be very proud to call my creation. And I know attending workshops would be a great help. As one of my writer-friends lately realized: there are writing styles that are good, and there are styles that are simply captivating. I suppose my pieces could pass as good; but “good” will never be good enough for me nor for anyone who wants to be serious with his craft; in my humble opinion.

So I am looking forward to attending a workshop in the future. And when that happens, I would not pass up the chance to learn a thing or two from each of the icons of Iluko literature who so unselfishly offer their talents.

No sirs, Her Royal Wickedness, the great unknown and still-to-be-honed Ms. Sherma Espino Benosa — the author of this rubbish you are reading (nyehehe) and the force to reckon with on this web page you’ve mistakenly stumbled into and would not want to visit again, ever — would never say no to being “workshopped” by the likes of Johnny Hidalgo, Cles Rambaud, Noli Dumlao, Ariel Tabag, Prodie Gar Padios, Herman Tabin, and Linda Lingbaoan, among others. Wicked Angel she may be, but she knows better than ignore such a good offer from the powers that be in Philippine (Iluko) literature.

Wanna join, folks?

Photo captions (Top-bottom): Members and officers of GUMIL MM (not in photo, Ariel Tabag and SEB who were taking photos); Again, officers and members of GUMIL MM (sans Manong Cles who took the photo.

Me, a fashion model? Nah!

Funny, but after the perfunctory questions during introductions have been asked and answered, there is another question — a rather odd one, I must add — that is often thrown my way: “Are you a fashion model?” to which I often reply: “I wish.”

I find the question somewhat odd because, other than the cheeckbone, the jaw and the at-times-naughty, at-other-times-playful hazel eyes, there is nothing else that’s atypical in my facial features. In fact, I am aware that the word beautiful is seldom used (if ever) to describe me physically. Proofs: (1) I don’t get much of a second glance from the opposite sex (okay, just enough), which means I don’t quite pass most guys’ beauty-meter; and (2) my very own mother WOULD NOT say I am goodlooking even at gun point. Ouch!

So why does the question keep popping? In fact, I’ve been called FM (no, not Ferdie Marcos, silly!) in almost all of the companies I joined.

Cheryl, a former officemate, says it’s the body structure. She says mine is much like those of the girls we often see a-strutting on the catwalk. I would have rejoiced upon hearing her comment, if only a ridiculous word didn’t immediately pop into my mind: A-n-o-r-e-x-i-c; and if I didn’t readily realize the implication of her statement: that I am not well endowed — a harsh predicament for a woman to be in at this time and age. Tsk!

Other friends say it’s the way I dress and move. They say my cadence is rhythmic and somewhat measured; and my facial stance and body movement, elegant. Again, their remarks would have warmed my heart, if only they didn’t soon subject me to mimic-Sherma’s-body-movement-and-walk game, where my walk was depicted as somewhat resembling that of a duck parading downtown.

I suppose my height may also be a factor. At five-four, I am quite tall for a Filipina, but then that’s not tall enough to be a fashion model.

So what could it be?

Oh, what the heck! Why do I care about the reasons I get to be asked that silly question when my standard reply isn’t that difficult naman to utter. And it’s not as if the question irritates me.

But really, why kaya? Hehehe

"Yaya" sisterhood

Salve and I played surrogate mothers to three kids last weekend (two of which are her pamangkins while the third is our inaanak) and guess what we had to go through: kids wanting to pee just as Superman was being assaulted (read: climax). Not only that, we went home kinda broke!

But what the heck. We enjoyed every second of that experience. Am sure Celestine was very inggit, her purported pantal and all. Hah!

Caption: Superman and the super(kulit) kids

What part-time?

Whew! Life’s been so hectic these past days because of the adjustments in school that I needed to make. I had thought that with my “semi-employment,” I’d have a lot more time for myself. But then I realized, while my load is technically normal for a part-time student, I have to put in 3 units more than the load of a fulltime student (and that’s twice the normal load of a part timer), if I want to complete my INCs — and I have to, because this semester’s my last chance to do that.

Whew! My sched’s in limbo again!

And that means I may not be able to write nonsensical stuff for a while, because I need to concentrate on my academic research works. To think that writing good-for-nothing articles is what I'm really good at. Kaloka!