A room with views

Ocean water, caramel and spices

2011-07-29T22:59:00.002+02:00

Their first date took place on a 14th of February. She gave him chocolates. He gave her a CD that he had burned. For hours, they talked about past, present and future. They laughed together. There were moments of silence. They told secrets to each other. They cursed, passionately, all the evils of the world.

Later on, they kissed ardently at the train station. Maybe it was just the night’s inertia, or perhaps they intentionally tried to give the night a final touch. One reason or another, the sleepy passengers who walked around, woke up from their drowsiness, for a few seconds only, as they passed by that mixture of hands, eyes, tongues and lips; a mixture that was turning more and more homogenous as the time came closer. The instant when the day would immolate itself to allow the birth of a new one; the moment when Cinderella would cease to be a princess and lose her glass slipper; the time when the last train would take apart the pieces of that perfect puzzle that nature had put together.

“Shūden desu! Shūden desu!” (last train!, last train!), cried the old rail worker.

He took the last train home with a stupid smile on his face and a feeling of void as his only travel companions. It was strange… only a few minutes had passed and he was already missing her. He tried to cover that feeling of void with music, listening to one of Brubeck’s most amazing songs on his mp3 player. Obviously, he didn’t succeed, so he made his mind fly back to Mirato Mirai, trying to fill in, by remembering, the crevice that had suddenly opened on his chest.

And so his mind flew over railway tracks, bridges, shopping malls and coffee shops. It stopped by Starbucks, took a ride on the majestic Ferris wheel, and when it came down, and after recovering energies in a nearby restaurant, it stopped at the gates of the train station, just before their lips made their first encounter.

He felt the sweet brushing of her skin on his arms once more, produced accidentally, while they wandered the city aimlessly. The feeling was so real, that every pore in his skin shrank like it had shrunk an hour ago. The sweet brushing gave way to a shy search of each other’s hand, that unavoidably, turned into a complete success when every one of their fingers found its own dancing partner, entwining in such a way that it seemed physically impossible to unwind them again.

Waves of unknown origin travelled through his body at the speed of thought. Feeling them in his feet, they run through legs and thighs, reaching his spine and ramifying on arms and neck to end up dying at his fingertips and the most hidden spots of his head. Even though he hadn’t had butterflies for dinner, he knew that at least one was playing cheerfully in his stomach at that very moment.

He forgot the words he used in the farewell, just knowing that they had been clumsy and typical. However, he didn’t stop even for a second to feel the shame of it, since his concentration avoided the words to focus only on the events. He remembered how a murderous hug tried to put an end to that beautiful evening sonata. And he also remembered how, far from surrendering, tired of losing many nights like that, he remained close to her after the hug, in a desperate attempt to change the course of the events in the last minute.

He stayed very close to her after the hug tried to kill that wonderful evening, making the distance between their faces so small that he could feel how after every exhalation, a fresh breeze crashed on him and slipped around his nose and his lips, following his facial contour. It was then when he got his green eyes, that still showed the beauty of childhood but also some hints of maturity and experience, to help him in his mission: stealing the Japanese heart that was beating hastily a few inches away of his own.

She had demonstrated to feel relaxed and confident during the whole evening, proving that she had not only more experience but was also older than him. At that moment, she was still showing confidence, however, the speed of her breathing and her slightly trembling fingers, betrayed her.

The seconds they stood there looking at each other felt like years, if not decades, and he believed that he had learnt more about her in that instant, than in the whole evening.

When he realized… they were already kissing. There were neither more waves of unknown origin nor more deep reflexions. The naughty butterfly ceased its wing-flapping, falling quietly asleep in a hidden spot of his stomach. His mind just went blank. And everything collapsed into one single reality: his lips, and hers. Forgotten feelings flourished again, mixing perfumes with flavors, life essences, hopes and desires… and all of a sudden, he found himself saying:

- Ocean water, caramel and spices…

- What…? (she asked with a cute smile)

- That’s the way you taste. Ocean water, caramel and spices.

- You know, that’s the nicest thing someone’s ever told me after kissing me…

- Really? What about I lov…

- Shhh… (she said, while placing a finger on his lips). Don’t use those words… they burn.

(And they kept on kissing)

That night, emotions got mixed-up with magic in that part of the city. Yokohama gleamed in their hearts, as beautifully as ever. A new bond between two existences had been conceived.

Many seasons would pass by. Spring, summer, autumn, winter and spring again, an endless cycle. The events of that night would probably be forgotten by the sleepy passengers even before arriving home. However, at least two souls would keep the memories of that 14^th of February, even after the trees had lost their leaves and gone naked when the snow appeared, covering them in white to the point of nearly freezing them to death. Even after they blossomed again, showing off their beauty. Even after they offered their cool shade to another couple who, running away from their parents and from the burning light of the summer, found shelter beneath its crown to continue expressing their love furtively.

Hundreds of season would pass by, however, they would always remember, that magical night.

- Tokyo, May 2008

The sexual life of ideas

2011-05-17T01:10:00.002+02:00

Nowadays ideas do not have enough sex.

When ideas have sex our mutual understanding increases, leaving less place for hate in our minds. When ideas have sex, different solutions arise in different parts of the planet, diminishing common problems. When ideas have sex people have access to affordable clean water and math lessons, to portable dialysis machines and insulin pumps, to democratic systems and human rights.

Sadly, there are still people who deter ideas from having sex, in order to have an army of frigid minds who find rational the irrational product yielded by the minds of those crazy autocrats. This way, as creativity gets eradicated, the army of worshipers of the mono-idea, interiorize that irrationality and fight to death for it, getting worse off their very selves as a result.

Summing up, ideas should get laid more often. Don’t you think so?

And you came back

2011-04-30T01:03:00.002+02:00

It was long ago when you left me, starting a trip that led you somewhere beyond my horizon. At first, I did not feel your absence. Of course, you always knew that I was a smart guy, so yes, I organized my life in order not to feel the void that you had left: Screens that didn’t go off for weeks, papers that overflowed storing capacities, black ink that turned invisible at the moment of signing, liquors that drowned my complicated thoughts, bodies that enraptured my instincts and made them work against my wills, old planes that took me to places where women had no rights and no cars, ships that carried me to perceived havens, tools that allowed me to go deeper, and deeper, and deeper, into the sea…

And then my ears popped and bled, havens turned ugly, ships deviated from their route crossing rivers of dark smelly water, the IMF squeezed my country like if trying to make juice out of a dried fruit, unemployment’s mouth grew bigger and bigger, swallowing entire families month after month; and my optimistic half died when it found out that 500 pesos, spaghetti and ice cream, were not enough to cure cancer. That was the first time that a child’s smile left me a bitter aftertaste.

So as the world started to teeter, I restarted my quest again.

I looked for you in a thousand dawns, in the seven seas, on the top of a mountain and in the early morning mist. But I could not touch you.

I looked for you in the church, at the mosque, at the synagogue and at the temple; and asked a priest, an imam, a rabbi and a monk. But they had never seen you.

I looked for you in the teachings of Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Locke, Hume and Kant. But I could not read you.

I looked for you in the notes of Bill Evans, Keith Jarrett, John Coltrane and Jerry Mulligan. But still, I could not hear you.

I looked for you in a sip of the finest red wine, in a pinch of saffron, in a white truffle and in the lips of an Asian mermaid. But I could neither taste you, nor smell you.

However, one day, I took pencil and paper, and wrote this:

I tore your clothes off
like people do with the petals of a flower.
In order to see your soul,
but I didn't see it.

And all around us
-horizons of land and water-
everything, until the infinite,
got filled by an immense, lively essence.

And then I knew that, even though I could not see you, hear you, touch you, smell you or taste you; you were there.

You were back.

With me.

This one is for C. Thank you for bringing back my will.

A score and four (or 24)

2010-05-31T00:41:00.003+02:00

Happy birthday to me. Yeah.

McDelivery

2010-04-27T20:10:00.003+02:00

It was getting late. That night was going to be another of those nights of loneliness, online porn and masturbation. Everything was pointing in that direction. It felt like that. Failure, he thought. Failure…

It had been a really tiring day at the office. As always, after a day like that he didn’t have the chance to go home and chill out at his favorite coach while watching TV like the majority of the people. He just had that expensive hotel room paid by the company, which was very far from being home. That was consultancy all about… He was paid for designing cost-cutting plans for other companies, what meant that he was paid for firing people that he didn’t even now.

The job was attractive for most of the youngsters: the pay was good (hell it was very good…), it implied travelling abroad almost weekly, all expenses on the company, meeting new people daily, going to expensive hotels, flying business class… However, the fact of being a man in his late 30s, spending his life on planes, airports, hotel rooms, and not being able to set roots anywhere, was driving him crazy…

That is why he had to drink the shit away from him.

**************

It was the last shift of the week for her. She really hated that call center job, just taking orders and orders for eight hours a day… but oh well, what could she do? At least she had a job. The pay was shit, the shift was shit, but she didn’t have to starve and didn’t depend on anybody. If there was something that she couldn’t stand was dependency.

3am… just 3 more hours were separating her from her day off. But thinking about it gave her a bittersweet feeling. On the one hand was happy because she didn’t have to attend hundreds of phone calls repeating the same conversation for 8 hours. But on the other hand she feared the weekend… since she got that job, her social life was reduced to repetitive silly chats with her colleagues in front of the coffee machine at the office and the fights with the landlord to get some extra days before the monthly rental payment. Working at night time, sleeping during day time… It was impossible to keep any friends or relationships outside the call center circles.

She was really missing to have some long and good talks… and gosh, she needed to get laid so bad… but with a real man. Last time it was with that weirdo she met in Yahoo Messenger who finished in 2 minutes and fell asleep in the next 2. And that was more than 5 months ago…

Beep… beep… beep… and the freaking red light. Another incoming call or the train back to reality… She had to go back to work.

**************

He finished the remaining red wine and violently, threw the empty glass to the wall of that expensive hotel room. Then he laughed seeing the glass breaking into pieces while the music of Cynthia Witthoff worked in the background as a perfect macabre soundtrack.

He started to think and think. And to worry. He needed to do something or else he would end up masturbating in front of his laptop and taking 3 benzodiazepines with a glass of whisky to fall on Morpheus arms in a matter of minutes… So finally, with determination, or maybe inspiration, or maybe just because he was drunk, he grabbed the cell phone, lay down on the sofa and dialed 8…6…2…3…6…:

Beep… beep… beep…

- Thank you for calling McDelivery, this is Matt, how can I help you?
- Matt? Are you a guy?
- Ehh…. Yes sir, I am.
- Hey buddy, I wanna speak with a girl…
- Sorry sir, the system automatically assigns the calls, we cannot put you with a lady now sir. I will be the one to take your order.
- Are you suggesting that I’m gay??!!
- Ehh… no sir, I’m just saying that…
- Go and fuck Elton John!

He hung up. Then he dialed again 8..6..2..3..6:

- Thank you for calling McDelivery this is Anthony, how can I help you?
- What the hell is wrong with the world today??!!
- Sir?...

Hung up. 8..6..2..3..6…… this time she got the call:

- Thank you for calling McDelivery, this is Sheena, how can I help you?
- Oh thanks God! (she had a nice voice…)
- Hello?... Good evening sir, how can I help you?
- Good evening Sheena. How are you?
- Excuse me sir…?
- Do you speak English Sheena?
- Yes sir, I do. But…
- So, how are you?
- I am fine sir… Please could you give me your name so that I can address you and get your order?
- I like your voice, so you can call me honey. Are you really fine Sheena? You sound like if you weren’t…
- Yes I am fine Mr… Honey… so what is your order? Please let me suggest our special sale, the value meal number 4 consisting of a double cheeseburguer deluxe, 4 nuggets and…
- Sheena baby, I am hungry but I already had dinner… do you know what I mean?
- Excuse me Mr…. Honey, do you want to order any food? This is not a hot line…
- OK baby OK, don’t get angry… I’d like that value meal you said before…
- OK that is value meal number 4. What is your drink Sir?
- Can I drink directly from your pussy Sheena?
- Excuse me? Are you drunk sir? I’m going to hang up… this is too much already…
- Hahaha I was just joking dear, I will order your favorite drink. What do you like Sheena?
- Sir…
- I’m serious, just tell me what you like.
- Is it OK to have regular Coke Mr. Honey?
- Regular Coke is perfect.
- Anything else sir?
- Yes, I want you for dessert…
- (Smiling) I’m sorry but I’m afraid that is not possible Mr. Honey.
- Is your phone number available then?
- (Smiling even more) Not available either sir…
- It’s really a pity because I was planning on eating your pussy for dessert until you cum in my mouth… and then also to…
- (Closing her legs tightly) Sir please, stop that… I will repeat your order: value meal number 4 and regular coke for drink. Is that alright sir?
- You forgot to ask me what do I want for dessert Sheena…
- Sir, I already told you that I’m not going to tolerate more indecent proposals…
- No no, I just wanted a fried apple pie… what are you talking about? You have such a naughty mind…
- (Holding her laugh) OK sir, an apple pie too.
- It will be 213pesos. Please can you facilitate me your address?
- Sure I can… I hope you are the one delivering it as well… Excelsior hotel at Eastwood City, room number 1604.
- Contact number Mr. Honey?
- 0908*****21
- OK, your order will be delivered in 20 to 30 minutes Mr. Honey.
- I love you Sheena…
- Hahaha…Have a good night Sir.
- Oh you laughed! (but she had already hung up) Sheena??! Sheena?!...

Bee-bee-bee-beeeep… bee-bee-bee-beeeep…

**************

“Such a weirdo” she thought… But there was something in his voice that was telling her that he wasn’t crazy. Maybe it was his confidence or maybe his deep masculine pitch. At some point she realized that she had even gotten a bit turned on. She knew it was against the rules of the company, but she decided to keep his phone number.

**************

After she hung up on him, he took 4 tablets of Xanax, a powerful anti-depressive and sedative medicine, and swallowed them lubricating his throat with one of the little bottles of whisky from the mini bar, doubling its effect this way. He opened his favorite porn site and after downloading a few videos, started to masturbate without any mercy.

Twenty minutes later the delivery boy was waiting at the front door of his hotel room with the value meal number 4 and a fried apple pie. The guy rang the buzzer trice, but he was way too deep in the embrace of Morpheus to notice it.

The picture was grotesque… He had fallen asleep in the sofa with his cock still hard and the porn videos playing repeatedly since the settings of his media player were still configured for music playlists.

**************

At 6am she clocked out and went home taking the always crowded bus. While securing herself holding onto one of the bus poles with her left hand, and watching out the pervert-look-a-like guy behind her, she used her right hand to text him:

hi mr. honey~
this is sheena…
gud am!

She arrived home an hour later, but her cell phone inbox was still empty. She re-sent the text again, just in case… the network was not always trustable. Waited for half an hour, but still no news from him.

Finally she fell asleep in the sofa while watching a cooking TV show. She had 2 nightmares that morning.

**************

He woke up after 27 hours of a self induced coma. The hangover was killing him, and the disgusting sound of the porn movie that was still being played was just worsening his headache. This time he had crossed the line… he had mixed alcohol with sedatives before, but never got to the point of eating 4 tablets. He promised himself that it was going to be the last time, as he promised himself just a week ago that he was going to stop drinking…

He checked his Blackberry and saw 2 new text messages from an unknown number and a few emails from work. He opened the first sms:

hi mr. honey~
this is sheena…
gud am!

Sheena? Who was that? Maybe it was one of the prostitutes he was drinking with 3 nights ago… He had the bad habit of giving his number away like priests give blessings, especially when he was drunk.

The second sms had exactly the same content. He hated when people double sent messages. So after deleting them, he took a long shower and dressed up getting ready to go to work.

That morning when he arrived to the office of the outsourcing company that he had been working with for the past week, he presented the cost-cutting plan and facilitated the list of procedures that had to be changed and his recommendations for the staff reduction.

In the afternoon, he took a plane back home. When the stewardess was serving lunch, he remembered… “Sheena! Damn it… the girl from McDelivery”. He really regretted deleting her number. But it was too late.

**************

Her real name was not Sheena, it was just a nickname. Her real name was actually being called by the Human Resources manager in that very moment.

It had been only a week since she got that awkward, disturbing but at the same time exciting phone call, however, she had already forgotten about him. Maybe that was the reason why she couldn’t relate the words “economic crisis”, “cost-cutting”, “staff number reduction” and “low productivity” with him, after hearing them from the dirty mouth of that HRM jerk.

Maybe that was also the reason why she could not relate her dismissal with him.

**************

Days and months would pass by, and eventually, she would find another job. Perhaps one with a better pay and a better shift.

Days and months would go by, and eventually, he would be named the best consultant of the year by the company, invited to be an associate, and get a 7-figure end-of-the-year bonus.

Maybe.

The only certain fact was that the unstoppable city, would keep on wolfing down every single soul who was not ready to fight for survival.

She knew that. And so did him.

The lost children

2010-02-19T13:40:00.014+01:00

It was a cloudy, grizzly afternoon of February when I saw him. It was not cold since that place could be well considered as tropical; however he was wearing a dirty, thick jacket that was probably making him sweat the hell out him. I guessed he was around 10 years old, although his facial expression, apathetic and indolent, suggested that he was already in his forties.

He was dirty from head to toe, and his clothes were worn and old. Roaming around that dusty bus station, he seemed not to have a specific destination. Until that day, I thought you could feel hunger only in your stomach. However when I looked at him, I could see the concept of hunger represented in a young and damaged human body; in a pair of lifeless eyes.

The pity I started to feel for him just grew bigger when he put his hand inside of his jacket taking a plastic bottle out. He unscrewed the tap, put the bottle to his nose and took a deep, long breath. He repeated it two or three times and then put the bottle back inside his jacket’s inner pocket. He sat down resting his back in one of the columns that withstood the weight of the bus station roof, between two buses.

His facial muscles were more relaxed now, but his eyes were gone. That shit had taken him to another place, far from the bitchy reality he had to deal with everyday, making him feel more comfortable while taking a nap on the hard cement. I was staring at him from my window seat, on one of the old buses that was going to take me back to the province as soon as the clock’s hands drew 2pm. After a few minutes, he sniffed again from the bottle. This time I noticed a light brown paste inside of it, after taking a proper look. I was wondering what the hell that drug was when the person sitting beside me said:

- That’s Rugby.

- Rugby? Is that a local drug? – I asked

- It is a brand of rubber cement. The street children use it as a drug because they can get high for less than 20 pesos (US$ 0.40) and they can use it for more than 4 days. You know, these children…

He kept talking, but I was not listening anymore since all my attention was in the Rugby boy. He was sleeping now after calming his hunger down by sniffing the rubber cement. I realized how horrible had to be to sleep in the street every day, waking up alone in some random corner, street or bus station, and not having anything to eat for breakfast or lunch. I wondered if he could even remember his parents, if ever he had ones.

And it was then when I understood that his numbness after doing Rugby was just the necessary and sweet oblivion that allowed him to forget about loneliness, hunger and filth. It was the last direct train to Neverland.

By the time the bus started to move, the sky began to cry, parsimoniously, the premature loss of another childhood that could have been, but has not.

And so I whispered: good night Rugby boy, good night.

One of the "Three Score and Ten"

2010-01-16T17:11:00.002+01:00

And I came back when the city was yet to wake up. And the streets were abnormally empty. And the air was polluted like before.

And it was over.

Sometimes people get a feeling of being at home when they come back from a long journey. This time I didn’t. Some other times the feeling is as if your mind and soul were still in that place you visited and your body was the only one who came back. This time it wasn’t like that either.

The whole “me” was there -mind, soul and body- on the back seat of a random yellow taxi, and I didn’t feel at home. Sleepless, I was staring at the way the world was wheezing by the looking glass, with no memories or feelings. A slightly darker dawn, weariness and the notes of Keith Jarrett’s piano were trying to feel an empty space in an unknown location.

And nobody cared. And I didn’t care. Or maybe I did. And everybody did. But we were all pretending…

Yes, we are all pretending.

Just by chance

2009-12-19T23:45:00.000+01:00

A sleepless city in an eastern country.
A dark, small jazz bar.
An old piano played by an even older man.

A barely empty glass of whisky.
A pair of almond eyes on dark skin
that find a pair of green ones, just by chance.

The notes are following the rythm of their own music,
that magic sound they make with their lips
when they kiss.

For the first time
their souls are not worrying about the future
but enjoying the fleeting beauty of the present moment.

Thoughts are vanishing,
memories fading out.

Everything is becoming fuzzy and beautiful
and as He goes through this sweet December,
is finally able to forget.

Southeast Asian Trip IV

2009-12-12T11:37:00.005+01:00

Today, after leaving the office, I will head to Manila International Airport to take a flight to Bangkok, known in Thai as “Krung Thep” (The city of angels). From this sleepless city I will start a long trip that will take me through the Merlion’s lair in Singapore, the Petron Towers in KL, the white sand beaches of southern Thailand, the world class dive sites of eastern Java and finally end up in the ancient temples of Yogyakarta, Indonesia.

I do not know if my ancestors were nomads or I am just way too curious to stay for a long time in the same place, but after 5 months here is like if I had difficulty to inhale the necessary oxygen to keep myself sane. This particular condition of mine started way back in 2004, but now the periods between trips are getting shorter and shorter. This is really starting to worry me. I only think about where I’m going to go next...

Am I trying to run away to a place far away from myself?
Will I be able to settle down sometime soon?

So many questions without a proper answer yet.
Anyway, for now, I just need to breathe again.

See you soon.

Mindanao

2009-12-09T09:31:00.021+01:00

Today, I have a proposal for you. Let me take you to the land of the durian and Abu Sayyaf. Let me take you to that place where the sun raises everyday over beaches of white sand and blue water. Where the juice of the coconuts is a sweet as sugar and the terrorist and guerrilla attacks are as common as the snow in Siberia. A land where some families can barely survive eating root crops once a day but never lose their smile. A place of starry nights and spiritual mountains. Let me take you to the island of contrasts. Let me take you to Mindanao.

Map of the Philippine Islands

6 am. I wake up due to the noisy pigs of the neighbor again. They are so loud in the morning when they are hungry. It is like if someone was butchering them alive and they were asking for help crying out loud. However, they are just asking for food to their owner. I notice that Cuya-No, the site coordinator, has already got up and his mosquito net is already folded and tidy. I check my cell phone and read the same sms as always: Gud M0wning~. After getting up, I grab a t-shirt and walk out of the room barefoot. I love walking barefoot on that wooden floor… it feels really nice. However, before going downstairs, I wear my slippers to avoid stepping on the ants with my naked feet.

As I go down the stairs, the smell of paksiw (fresh fish steamed with vinegar, garlic and little onions) starts to wake up my sleepy stomach. The rice is already on the table and Cuya-No is finishing cooking the fish. I wash my face and my hands in the kitchen, where the only basin of the house is, and prepare some instant coffee. When the fish is ready, we sit down together and eat that unusual breakfast. In Spain I usually just drink some milk and eat a couple of toasts. Here I eat rice and fish at 6.30am every day. Sometimes we buy some crabs and have a little feast to start our workday. Here fish and seafood are very very cheap. You can buy a huge super-fresh tuna for only 1€ per kilo in the market.

Crabs for Breakfast

After breakfast I take a shower, well a “shower”. The shower room doesn’t have what we call a proper shower. It has a faucet 30cm from the floor which you use to fill a bucket with water (of course there’s no hot water, but actually the temperature here is high enough so it is not really necessary). Then there is a scoop which you use to have your shower, pouring the water on your body. The same scoop is the tool they use instead of toilet paper. I’ve tried that a couple of times but I still prefer the paper…

Here days are very different from each other. We do a lot of field trips to work with the community, meetings with the local government units, other NGOs, foreign government cooperation agencies… so I can’t describe how the typical day is. Sometimes I have to go to Manila to attend some meetings or workshops, sometimes other cities in Mindanao like Davao or Butuan… However, I will talk to you about the different sites we are working in. We work in 4 different municipalities:

Tandag

This is the town where the office is located and where I live. It is the liveliest town and the capital of the province of Surigao del Sur. The office is located just 20 meters away from the beach, so every morning when I wake up I can see the Pacific Ocean wetting the sands of the town. At night you can even hear the breaking waves together with the whistling breeze singing an endless lullaby. But when the weather is bad, it can turn into a heavy metal song, making difficult your sleep.

There are 3 bars in Tandag with live performing bands almost every night. The most popular and big one is “Beeboys”. However it is too loud for my taste and the songs they are playing are really commercial, so you get tired of listening to the same songs again and again. Unless you want to spend the night dancing or looking at the hot girls of the band, this is not the best place for you. My favorite is Nikko’s, in Mabua beach. Small, dark, intimate… this place is really worth a visit if you want to enjoy good music and be able to talk with your companions at the same time. They play acoustic songs, and the regular band is very good. The guitar is blind and can also play the keyboard. He always wears sunglasses, Ray Charles style, and he is quite good even improvising. The bass is also blind, and the singer is mentally handicapped. When I saw him for first time I thought he was just a friend of one of the members of the band, and I also thought he was not able to talk even a single word. He had even this weird posture with a rigid hand. However, when he started singing I was completely amazed… he was SO good. And he was also playing the beat box at the same time! The beers there cost only 30 pesos (0.45€), so you have to be careful when it comes to control the number of beers you drink. A couple of nights ago, I was there with two friends of mine. After a 6-rounds beer fight, when we were already drunk, one of my friends asked for the bill and told the waiter to make an invoice to the “Intergalactic Corporation Pop” and said: “tomorrow we will try to charge it to our corporation”. I think after that we were laughing for 20 minutes nonstop…

@Beeboys

There is also a nice restaurant called Goldbar. It is the only decent restaurant you can find around the town (and also around the province I would say…). Crispy Pata (crispy pork leg) and tuna belly as main dishes, and leche flan (made with condensed milk and egg yolk) for dessert are best. The fresh Mango shake is also very delicious. When it comes to coffee, the best place is “La Jara”, a small coffee shop that serves even iced coffee, like the starbucks’ frappuccino. My favorite is the “Oreo Froccino”. Oh, and they also have wi-fi.

One of the problems that I encounter here is that, because I am the only foreigner living in the town, and usually the foreigners living in Mindanao are older (experienced development workers), all the looks are on me when I am rooming around the streets. And they don’t pretend that they are not looking, they literally stare at me. The children always ask “Hey Joe, Americano, what’s your name?” If I stop and answer them, in a few seconds I am surrounded by more than 10 children wanting to play with the foreigner. The young girls stare at me and smile. Some of them even take pictures of me with their cellphones! And then the guys look at me like if they wanted to kill me, but if I smile, they smile back… so I think at the beginning they are just concerned about if I am a good guy or I am just another colonizer. So the issue is that I have no privacy. It is like being famous, and I’m not definitely the kind of person that likes to be the center of the party.

I usually go to the same hair salon, owned by Tommy Bautista, a really funny gay stylist that was working in Korea for a number of years. The haircut is just 60 pesos (0.90€), and he spends more than an hour with me. Sometimes he even shaves my beard for the same price. The normal price in a barber shop where they cut your hair in 10 minutes is 30 pesos only, but I don’t want to take the risk… However, after the haircut with Tommy I have to pose for his photo session… anyway I’m always very happy with the cut, so I don’t mind posing.

In Tandag, the project is being implemented in barangay Awasian. A barangay is like a district or neighborhood. We also work with some indigenous people in the uplands, in a place called Sitio Hita-ob. I have visited Hita-ob only once, but I was really welcomed and was offered some fresh coconut juice by one of the households there. The kids were lovely, and at the end I ended playing hide and seek with them. They are incredibly shy when they see me, because they are not used to see any white people, but at the same time curiosity bring them to me and after a few smiles they get excited and start playing.

Lanuza

One and a half hours by bus from Tandag is Lanuza. This is one of my favorite sites. Well, we actually work in 3 different barangays, but my favourite site is Sito Ebuan, in barangay Mampi. To get there you can only ride a motorcycle. The motorcycle is called “habal-habal” and it has two wooden wings to carry more people. In other places they call it “skylab”, because its shape imitates the shape of the spatial station with the same name.

Trying to load a 100kg abaca stripping machine on the habal-habal

Ready to go with 300kg+ load on a 155cc motorcycle

From the lowlands to Ebuan it takes you around 40 minutes by that habal-habal. There are around 75 households living in the area, all of them indigenous people. The average household has 9 members, the biggest one 13. I would also say that 40% of the people living there are children. There are children everywhere, that is why I like Ebuan so much. Some of them are playing around naked and some others just with a big, busted t-shirt. They are smiling all the time and they can play and enjoy with anything, don’t need toys or any other tools. They play with water, with rain, with insects, with flowers, with stones, with sticks... Maybe the families there don’t have a single peso, but at least they enjoy nature and life like a few do in western countries.

I remember my first day there. As I was arriving with the habal-habal, everybody was going out of their houses to check who was ridding the motorcycle. Everybody was looking at me as if I was an astronaut landing in their village. The children were hiding from “the white man” and the old people were examining me carefully. Now, every time I go to Ibuan, the children run after my habal-habal and the old people smile and wave at me.

Smile!

The youth, the children and the "white man"

There is a river very near the village where I take a bath every time I am there. Though the water is very cold, it feels nice on sunny days.

I usually sleep either in the school or in the teacher’s family house. And the best thing of Ebuan is that is the only place in the province where there are no mosquitoes! So at night I don’t need any mosquito net. However there is a very small flying insect called limo-limo that tries to get into your eye, probably attracted by the moisture. I call it the kamikaze, because it instantly dies after achieving its goal.

Cortes

This municipality is situated between Lanuza and Tandag. The project is being implemented in barangay Burgos, a barangay that has direct access to the sea. They have a huge mangrove area and also a Marine Protected Area that they call “Fish Sanctuary”. We work with a community formed by fisherfolks.

The community is devoted to protect the sanctuary, so they patrol it 24/7. They are having problems with the illegal fishermen that try to get inside the sanctuary. Sometimes - as they conveyed to me - they carry spear guns, so the patrollers cannot apprehend them and take them to the police. They want guns to frighten the illegal fishermen and deter them to do illegal activities inside of the protected area.

With KAAMPAKA members

The Children of Burgos

I will always remember that evening. The sun was already low in the horizon and we were having a meeting with the association of fisher folks, trying to convince them that guns are not the solution to their problem… The solution is to address the poverty that leads those other fishermen of neighboring barangays to undertake illegal activities. They nodded at us, but 4 months later they still ask me for a gun once in a while. Step by step…

Cagwait

… or the town of artists. Thirty minutes away from Tandag, this small municipality is full of really interesting people that have a great aptitude for anything related with art… painting, singing, dancing, playing and even composing music, acting… Almost everybody is engaged in one of these activities. And they are really good!

Dai-dai singing the Philippine anthem. Beautiful voice.

Dancing lessons in Cagwait

The project is working in 2 areas, barangay La Purisima and sitio Mam-on (in barangay Tubo-tubo). I have not been able to visit sitio Mam-on because of the insurgency. The NPA (New People’s Army), that is a communist guerrilla, is very active in the area and there have been on-going skirmishes in the uplands since last May. It seems that the situation is getting better and the Philippine Army has already cleared the place, so I will be visiting the community there by the beginning of next year.

Regarding La Purisima, that is the first place I visited. The situation was quite special because they were having an induction ceremony for the new officers of the barangay. After being there only for half a day, I was invited to eat lunch in the house of the barangay captain, where they butchered a native chicken for me to eat, and after that invited as an honor guest to the ceremony sitting next to the captain. I tried to refuse the invitation but some of my colleagues advice me to accept it because otherwise they could get offended. So at the end I ended up in the honor committee and for the official picture invited to sit with the captain too. Here is the proof:

Best friend of the Barangay Captain

My favorite beach is also located in Cagwait. They call it the white beach because of its white, fine sand. The water is very clear, and it forms like a little bay, so it is also protected from the waves. The Local Government Unit is managing a small resort where you can spend the night for a very cheap price, or just stay under a wooden hut during the day having lunch, drinking…

White beach, a.k.a. "Heaven"

Enjoying the beach with the youth

So this is pretty much all about the place I am living in right now. This week I am staying in Manila to attend some meetings and fix some issues in the head office. I have been only 5 days here and I’m already missing Mindanao…

Great Woody

2009-11-07T01:13:00.000+01:00

Ending of Annie hall (1977)

Letter to Lethe

2009-10-28T03:02:00.008+01:00

I am riding a horse named loneliness. Crossing endless meadows, I try to go back to you. I expose myself to the evil sun, wishing to be burned, trying to erase completely the leftovers inside me. I need to feel something again, even if that something is just pain.

You left too long ago, taking my battered heart with you. I've been told that after taking it to pieces, you sold them in a decadent pawnshop. To say the truth, I don't mind anymore, I'm lacking the strength and the means to take them back again.

Why I couldn't keep being that conformist boy who liked to chew gum carefreely? Why did I have to meddle in that far-off country? Could it be that I was jealous of Marco Polo? Or that I needed to see the Moon from a different latitude? Perhaps I was just too young, to keep good love from going wrong.

And now I'm leaving again, but this time heading nowhere, with no Tinkerbell or Cicerone. No more maps, no more fairy dust for me. This time I'm abandoning everything, I'm letting myself fall on Nothing's arms, hoping to find a path that takes me back to the Origin, and tells me where is the pawnshop where my heart was sold off cheaply.

When I find it, I will pick up every single piece that you dismantled during that cold February. I will put them together again, and after that, I will destroy them with the hammer of oblivion. From that moment on, I won't feel anything. I will flow together with the wind and like water, I will adapt to the shape of my container, without changing myself.

However, I know that the very painful part of this, is that you won't cause me pain anymore. And that what I will miss the most, is missing you.

Still alive

2009-09-11T15:35:00.004+02:00

It has been more than a month since I arrived to Ninoy Aquino International Airport in a rainy Monday morning. I came together with Eva, another intern of the same NGO I’m working for. She will be staying in Manila for 6 months, working at Manila Observatory, while I will be based in Tandag, Surigao del Sur province, in the island of Mindanao.

Due to difficulties in getting our visa, I was stuck in Manila for 2 weeks. Finally, thanks to the cooperation of AECID and the Spanish Embassy, we were able to apply for the working visa under their name, and now we are legal workers in the country.

I want to thank Eva for standing me during those 2 weeks I was staying at her apartment. Even we didn’t know each other much when we arrived to Manila, we got along pretty well and had a great time.

The capital

I remember well our first day in Manila. August 3^rd. Corazon Aquino (Cory Aquino) had just passed away 2 days before our arrival. Wife of the ex-president Benigno Aquino (Ninoy Aquino), who was assassinated in 1983, she became the first female president of the Philippines and is nowadays an icon of democracy. The burial ceremony was reported all over the country on tv, radio, newspapers… even the taxi drivers where talking to me about it for a few days. Millions of people were touched by her death, and more than a hundred thousand followed the transfer of her remains to Manila Cathedral, where the funeral mass was celebrated 2 days later, on August the 5^th. Those days were an important moment of the history of the country, and we were there witnessing it.

Metromanila, is the metropolitan area of Manila and is formed by several cities. It has a population of more than 11 million. The headquarters of the local NGO I am working with are in Quezon City, the biggest city of the Philippines. To say the truth, I don’t really like Metromanila… it is so polluted, noisy, and generally dirty. Of course you can just go to Makati, the business city, and feel like if you were in the heart of Manhattan. But if you walk a few hundreds of meters away, you will be surrounded by slums again. This contrast makes me think about where we are going and what and who we are leaving behind us.

The nicest part, in my opinion, is the district of Intramuros, the heart of the old Manila. “Intramuros” is a Spanish term meaning “within the walls”. It was built by the Spaniards 400 years ago, and is actually enclosed by a wall. It is nice to walk around and look at the old Spanish buildings, or have a cup of coffee at the Starbucks near the BOI. Aside of Intramuros, only shopping malls are worth a visit… There is one called Megamall in Pasig city. I’ve never been to a shopping mall as big as that one. But it is just that, a shopping mall.

The nightlife is mostly concentrated in the district of Malate. It is quite Bangkok like, but still interesting. Lots of gay bars, clubs, prostitutes… I like to call it wildlife instead of nightlife. I have been there only once, and we joined some Filipino friends of Eva at the Penguin Bar. This bar is quite cool, small but nice atmosphere. The night we went, there was an 80’s style band playing rock songs. Their outfits were really cool. I was drinking Red Horse beer that night. Everybody asked me: Do you drink Red Horse? I didn’t know why they were so surprised. The truth is that Red Horse is a EXTRA strong beer. People say that it is mixed with gin. After 4 bottles I felt I was the king of the dancing floor. After the 6^th I blacked out. That crap is lethal… belive me!

Anyway, even it is not a nice city, I enjoyed Manila in a way. I will always remember the crazy tricycle rides up and down Katipunan, the time that I was chasing an evasive plastic surgeon around Ortigas and the taxi driver that got me into a 2 hours traffic jam with whom I had the chance to review my almost forgotten Japanese. And of course, I will always remember that small, colorful cafe in UP Village.

Thanks C.

Leaving: KL803

2009-08-01T22:30:00.002+02:00

Finally, after a 4-weeks delay, I got my visa last Monday. It is only valid for 2 months, so I will have to apply for a 9-months one once I am in Manila. I am leaving tonight to Madrid, and then I will take a flight in the morning to Manila via Amsterdam.

I have been spending quite a lot of time with my friends and family lately. I want to thank specially Filippo, Hugo, Marghe, Samu and Xema, for these wonderful days we have spent together, whose memories will accompany me everytime I feel lonely in that remote city called Tandag.

Despite it is hard to say goodbye, I am really excited with the job and cannot wait to get there and meet all the team members.

If everything goes well, the next post will be from the Philippines.

See you soon people.

Italia

2009-07-19T19:57:00.007+02:00

Finally I have time to write about my trip to Italy. I came back last Sunday, however I have been attending a seminar about international peacekeeping operations at university for the whole week, so after hours and hours of conferences, when I got home, my mind was way too tired to think about the blog before going to bed.

Anyway, the trip was great! I met Filippo on Wednesday, and went for dinner with his dad and some friends to a little village called Sassuolo. It was nice to comunicate with everybody in "Spanitaliansh" and realise that we were able to maintain interesting and sometimes even deep conversations. That night, I ate the best gnocchi in the world (they were made of ricotta instead of potato!).

On the next day, we took the car heading south to visit the Tuscany region. We visited Siena first and then Firenze (Florence). We got lost between these two cities, driving through the endless, beautiful vineyards, until we found a small isolated restaurant where we stopped looking for something to eat. People say that the best surprise is the one you don't expect. And that afternoon it happened exactly like that to us. The little restaurant had incredible views of the surroundings. Farms, old stone houses with red tile roofs, animals, blue skies... and then the food... I ate cow tongue with green sauce and virgin olive oil. It was really good, and everything for less than 7€!!

Siena

Pizza!

Piazza del Campo

The cathedral

Panoramic view of Siena

Florence

Il Duomo

"Waseda ex-daigakusei" (Filippo)

On friday, we visited Modena and Bologna, where we met with Hugo (my former flatmate in Madrid and now a very good friend) and Marghe (his lovely girlfriend and the best pizza cook in the world ^^).

Piazza Grande, Modena.

The crypt of St. Geminianus

Bologna

Sunset & Rain in Bologna

The day after, we went to Rimini, in the east coast of the country. Filippo and 2 of his friends spent the night in a hostel close to the beach and went on crazy party. I took a train to Cattolica and Marghe and Hugo picked me up in the station. Then we went to her hometown, Morciano di Romagna, a little village were you can eat a superb italian gelato made of organic ingredients (with whipped ricotta on top!) :) That night I ate and drunk like hell again at Marghe's place, where she was having a party with family and friends.

Urogallo, getting the place ready for dinner...

Cooking with Marghe

Hugo and his delicious spanish omelets

Dinner by candlelight

On Sunday, I met Filippo again, and he drove me to Bologna airport where I took a plane back to Valencia. When the plain took off, I still had the flavour of Spizzico in my mouth. It was a nice ending.

Unexpected trip

2009-07-07T23:33:00.004+02:00

Tomorrow I'm going to Italy to visit one of my dearest mates. I will be there until Sunday. I'm flying to Bologna and will meet my friend in Modena. I might visit Milan on Thursday if I have time. This is the last short trip before moving to the Philippines. Can't wait to meet my friend and talk about life while drinking a cocktail in a small jazz bar.

Tasmanian memories

Song and picture dedicated to F.

Soria

2009-07-04T23:13:00.017+02:00

Yesterday I came back from Soria. These 3 days I have spent in this little city have been pretty interesting.

I went from Valencia with Miguel, an Agricultural Engineering student from the Politechnic University of Valencia, who is going to Cambodia for 9 months. After a short flight to Madrid, we took a bus running away from the heat and 2 hours later we arrived to Soria.

Madrid 39ºC

There we met the general manager and some other volunteers, and went for lunch all together. After lunch, we registered in our hotel and rested for a couple of hours. Then, at night, we went to drink some beers and eat tapas and pintxos with the rest of the volunteers and interns. It was really fun and we started to get to know each other a bit more.

From left to right: Eva (Manila, Philippines), me (Surigao del Sur, Philippines), Angela (Dominican Rep.), Alba (Tanzania), Miguel (Cambodia), Henar (Peru), Sara and Carmen (headquarters).

The second day, we met the projects general manager and she gave us an introductory course on international cooperation. Before lunch, a local TV interviwed me for 5 minutes about the project... I usually don't like anybody filmming me, but this time the reporter was pretty cool and I ended up talking and talking without noticing... :) Then, in the evening, everybody got the details of their respective cooperation projects. Everybody left before the sunset, but I decided to stay one more day to learn about the use of an specific software I am going to need, and also to enjoy the city a little bit more.

Learning

The manager was really kind and she let me stay in an apartment property of the NGO. The views were really nice from there. I shared the flat with a french girl who was doing an internship at the headquarters and the NGO representative to Tanzania, who took the bus to Madrid with me on the next day (she is leaving for Tanzania on tuesday, good luck Pilar!).

Views from the apartment

More views from the apartment

On friday, before taking the bus back to Madrid, I went for a walk around Soria and took some pictures.

Santo Domingo Church - main entrance

Walking along the river

River Duero

The City Hall

Alameda Park

Good luck to all of you in your respective destinations. Take care guys, see you next year!

Close your books, take a flight

2009-06-30T23:31:00.009+02:00

Yesterday, after 3 long weeks, I finally finished the university exams period. 8 finals and the TOEFL are responsible of my brand new "milky" skin colour (I have hardly seen the sun since early June).

I would like to chill out on the beach or just relax and do nothing at home for a couple of days, but tomorrow morning I have go to Soria to visit the headquarters of the NGO I am going to work for. There, I will be given a short course on international cooperation issues and will receive my working plan as well.

I will be back on Friday, so I hope I can take a break on the weekend and get a bit tanned.

Even though I'm happy that I'm done with my exams, I think I'm going to miss those long nights of Red Bull, books and class notes...

My "office"

Beginnings

2009-06-21T01:30:00.002+02:00

Hello everyone.

A few years ago, I started up a blog in MSN Spaces. I used to write short stories and upload pictures from my trips. However, after a couple of years, the site became abandoned (who said I’m lazy?^^).

The purpose of this new blog is to keep my friends and acquaintances updated about my life in the Philippines. I am going to do an internship as an international aid worker in an NGO for 9 months. I will give you more details about the project in coming posts.

I am a total “newbie” in NGO’s and international cooperation issues, so all the information and ideas written in this blog, will be from a non-expert point of view. I hope I can learn fast and give my best to the project.

In addition to this, I also want to retake my old blog’s line: write short stories once in a while, upload some pictures and maybe some music too.

I will not censure any comments, so feel free to share or express anything you want. And please, forgive my grammatical mistakes... :)

Having said all that, welcome aboard.