Drifting Thoughts 06

Last February 23 to 25, I was in Baguio. It was my second visit to the City of Pines; the first one was 18 years ago. Eighteen years! What a loser. That's what happens when you're born last in the family, at a time when your parents have long settled down and fended off the travel bug, parents who are overprotective to the point of locking you up. (Sorry, just had to rant about that frustration of mine. Anyway, I'm on my own now so no there's point in blaming the past if I still keep myself from discovering the world.)









This particular weekend was the time for Baguio's Panagbenga (Blossoming) Festival, which is highlighted by a parade of flower-decked floats similar to the one in Pasadena, California. I actually learned of the schedule only at midday of February 23 and, with nothing¹ to do on a three-day weekend, decided within minutes to join the trip that would be leaving five hours later. This was quite uncharacteristic of me, who would usually plan trips more than a week beforehand. One consequence of this would be forgetting to bring a jacket!

Aside from my failure to bring a jacket, the trip was riddled with bloopers. There was this two-hour delay when a rendezvous that supposed to take place in Trinoma ended somewhere in Balintawak.² Then there were a series of wrong turns along the highway as well as driving in circles in Baguio City itself.³ These extended the usual six-hour trip into eight, and at three in the morning hotels were fully booked, of course, so we opted to sleep in the car in Burnham Park. This had given us a good chance to acquire a great vantage point for picture-taking, which we eventually got at the overpass of Abanao Square. The series of unfortunate events continued after the parade: a lost wallet, a corrupted memory card, allergy-induced colds and a vehicular parking mishap. Nothing to worry about, I keep mentioning in my mind like a Zen mantra, I'd experienced worse,⁴ it could have been worse.⁵

Indeed there was not much to worry about. Baguio's temperature at that time was a little higher than 20 degrees Celsius, which incidentally puts it in the same temperature range at the office. I felt like a native when walking around in a T-shirt. The coldness only bothered me twice: the first was when it rained on the parade, which is easily solved with an umbrella purchase, the second was when it got windy at night when I was in the cathedral, oh how I wished to huddle up with that cute lady sitting beside me at Mass.⁶









My sightseeing was partly an attempt to relive some obscure childhood memories. This time I got to enjoy the view at Camp John Hay and posing on horseback at Mines View Park while back then my childhood fear of heights actually got me agitated. Some childhood memories can't be relieved, though, not during Panagbenga anyway. The influx of tourists practically filled up Burnham Park, and shops crowded Mines View.⁷ If I want to enjoy the place, I'd have to visit some other time, when there would be not that many people from where I come from (the "lowlands"). The swollen number of vistors actually amplifies the fact that the city is overpopulated. Going through downtown, I had this impression that this supposedly tourist city is no different from a congested, dilapidated urban area in the lowlands. Then there's the pollution. Old vehicles contribute much to it; thus, it's a spark of hope that the electric jeepney was introduced to the city and featured in the Panagbenga Parade.<sup>8










1</sup>Actually, I could've written a blog entry.
²What do you expect from people unfamiliar with the place?
³Substandard road signs disappear at night. Add to that the observation that most drivers in the North keep their headlights at "high" for maximum glare. Drivers in the Bicol area would be courteous enough to switch to "low" upon meeting oncoming vehicles.
⁴I was thinking of my three-day trip to Catanduanes ten years ago, where I got badly seasick (but didn't puke, hah!) and, being another trip taken on a whim, I brought no luggage whatsoever.
⁵Like falling down the mountain range.
⁶Virtuous maiden, please comfort your shivering brethren.
⁷Not unlike what happened to the view of the Cagsawa Ruins in Albay.
⁸It's interesting that the electric jeepney can actually handle the sloping streets of Baguio.

-oOo-

I know it's already Holy Week, but I'd just want to let it out my system. Valentine's Day just came and went last month. There should have been part 10 of Fantasia--that love story I'm writing for over a year now--released for the occasion, but inspiration became scarce. My IM status message indicated that the current unattached space was a bug in the program that is my life. 'Twas Singles Awareness Day indeed. Thankfully, by the afternoon of V-day, I had wizened up to admonish myself not to let Valentines ruin my ideals on love. The hopeless romantic lives on.

The Day of Hearts seemed to be a non-occasion this year. Some couples I know had avoided the date and its accompanying high prices and full bookings. Back then, my friends and I, made it a point to have some celebration. A simple lunch or dinner would do. The most memorable among them was what we in DS made up as a week to show our love to our organization. It was complete with an exchange gift, a Cupid courtship service and a big concluding party.

We also had some Valentines celebration in our office last year. Unbelievably, I won a dating game consisting of multiple choice questions to determine compatibility. I stayed on the conservative side, and it cracked me up to discover that the secret searchee was none other than a batchmate of mine. No romance in there, but I could've appreciated a "dinner" compliments of the company (too bad there's none).

Maybe those little distractions were all that I need to keep away from the V-day blues.

-oOo-

It dawned upon me that summer is here when the recent readers stumbled upon this blog when searching for Casa Remo Apartelle. They all end up to this entry of mine.