mt. arayat

i saw the sun rise three times over mt. arayat this morning.
i cried it was so beautiful.

been talking to that mountain lately on my frequent trips on the nlex, back and forth from manila and prado.
been meaning to google his story.
he is such a handsome mountain.
the mountains here speak to me.
makiling last year.
makilala next month.
mayon last year.
now arayat.

i locked myself out of my room last night, right before i was supposed to meet maryan for dinner in clark.
grr.

i couldn't find a locksmith.
it was already 7pm, so even if i did find one, they would be closed...

found some wire leftover from when they installed internet, and tried to pick the lock for half an hour.
was doing a poor imitation of what i'd seen in movies.
no luck.
am thinking that this is a skill i would like to have.
another thing to google.

i had my car keys naman.
just not the clinic keys nor the padlock for the gate.
had to make the decision to leave the clinic or stay.

bought a new padlock for the gate and sent a simple plea to the ether to keep the clinic safe while i was gone.
paki-bantay lang po.

met dita and maryan at zapata's.
it's this mexican food place that transports me back to california, whenever i'm there.
when i'm there, i can be in a taqueria in san diego or l.a.
decor, taste...
complete with white folks even.
weird.
and a little disturbing.
that's something to get used to because of the proximity to clark.
lots of foreigners here paired up with young pinays.

anyway, the food IS good.
not quite la taqueria on 25th and mission in san francisco or that other place i used to go to near gilman in berkeley.
but, pretty darn good.
best i've had here.
just don't get the fish tacos.
trust me on this one.

after zapata's, we headed to the swiss chalet and ate again.
:)
i love kampampangans.
honestly, the most common way i'm greeted, especially when i'm in prado, is "kumain ka na ba?" (have you eaten yet?)
at swiss chalet, we ate beef fondue and rahmschnitzel.
long meandering, and at times, very animated, conversations that flowed from kampampangan to taglish to english to tagalog on topics that ranged from jun lozado, love lives, callings, parenting, tv shows, relationships, family...
kept up, me and my 75% comprehension.
revealed to them that i was once married.
that's always a good conversation...

it's so interesting to go to these restaurants.
always a mixed crowd.
very close to the red light district in angeles kasi.

at 2am, we dropped off Dita at her house in villa teresa.
Maryan invited me to stay the night at bale dutung.
woke up the next morning early, early.
as usual.

as i drove home, the sun was rising.
along the macarthur highway, i passed groups of young men dressed in maroon robes and barefoot.
they were carrying huge crosses on their backs, their hands tied.
there must have been at least 50.
i also saw barechested men, flagellating themselves as they walked along side.
their backs were still whole, not yet bleeding.

so many feelings get churned up for me around this holy week.
i've certainly not experienced anything like this before.
filipinos know suffering.
is this the suffering that leads to more suffering?
or is it the suffering that leads to freedom?
turning this over in my head and heart.
i have such a strong reaction to the physical pain.
i remember feeling the same thing when reading parts of Katrin's kapwa.

the other day, when i drove into madapdap from prado, there was a young boy with a cross strapped to his back. he was surrounded by 30 or 40 other little boys who jeered at him as he fell. it was heartbreaking to witness. and i was in Pipsy, protected, somewhat safe. i would prolly cry my eyes out if i were actually on the street with them. the heat and dust. the sacrifice. the energies.

does this child understand who he is, what he does? do the boys around him see that they are also playing a role? these are the little boys in my neighborhood who shout and run and climb the tree by the elementary school by the iglesia ni kristo. they are the ones that play this game where they throw and roll p5 coins. and walk with their arms around each other's shoulders as their tsinelas drag on the hot asphalt. they are the ones who buy cold water in plastic supots for 1 piso across the street at the bakery and drink them down by biting the corner of bag and drink as if they are nursing. they are the ones who draw their names in the dust on my car.

the pasyon is sung in kapampangan all night.
holy week is such an intense experience.
especially for this christ year of mine.
i knew there was a reason that i found myself locked out of my room last night.

it triggered another profound series of events.
i never thought i would see the sun rise 3 times.
first time red.
the second orange.
the third yellow.

thank you Universe.
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