Remembering October
I revisited Des Poticar-Biboso's excellent photography (I wish she'd resurrect her blogs) and remembered that there was a time when I used to take so much pictures to share in this space. October was a colorful month for me. To write about the month-that-was in the past tense reminds me how time flies quickly, how everything passes before our very eyes if we don't pause and look and look back.
Rizal Street is where my old high school is. After casting our votes during the barangay elections, Manong and I walked to the café where Non's store used to be. It was the go-to place to buy school supplies at the very last minute. The street was quiet at 2 PM. Most of the city's voters were done. The precincts were beginning to wrap up. The secret to voting quickly is to do it very early, before daybreak, or do it very late. But where's the fun in that? In a small town, queueing and small-talking and random sighting of old friends and classmates and neighbors are as much part of the democratic process as deciding which leaders to choose.
On my solo walks after attending a worship service in a reformed Baptist church, I visited Museo Naval (the Naval Museum) in Madrid. Admission was free, but a 3 euro donation was encouraged. I kept looking for references to Ferdinand Magellan, but I remembered my history lesson (I hope that part hasn't been revised yet): that Portugal, not Spain, sent him on a quest to find Malacca and in the process, he landed in the Philippines.
Paul adds so much happiness in our home. Now an indoor dog, he considers it his birthright to sleep inside the house. His spot is behind the white couch beside the bookshelves. At midnight he barks and awakens everyone—by everyone, I mean Manong Ralph, the lightest sleeper—so the doors can be opened and he can urinate outside. After a minute, Paul returns to his nook, preparing for his 6 am walk in the neighborhood. He is the sweetest, most considerate, and most compassionate dog. He leaves some of his food for the frogs, which he kisses and licks gently when he meets them.
Rizal Street is where my old high school is. After casting our votes during the barangay elections, Manong and I walked to the café where Non's store used to be. It was the go-to place to buy school supplies at the very last minute. The street was quiet at 2 PM. Most of the city's voters were done. The precincts were beginning to wrap up. The secret to voting quickly is to do it very early, before daybreak, or do it very late. But where's the fun in that? In a small town, queueing and small-talking and random sighting of old friends and classmates and neighbors are as much part of the democratic process as deciding which leaders to choose.
On my solo walks after attending a worship service in a reformed Baptist church, I visited Museo Naval (the Naval Museum) in Madrid. Admission was free, but a 3 euro donation was encouraged. I kept looking for references to Ferdinand Magellan, but I remembered my history lesson (I hope that part hasn't been revised yet): that Portugal, not Spain, sent him on a quest to find Malacca and in the process, he landed in the Philippines.
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