i confess i knew nothing about baseball until about two weeks ago when raj gave me a crash course in time for the world series between the phillies and the yankees. i was rooting for the yankees, of course, simply because i heart NY. there’s no other logical explanation for it. i learned the basics of the game – how bases are loaded, when a player scores a home run and how he strikes out. to the erudite sports fans, this is rudimentary knowledge but they were, for me, more than enough to enjoy the series, games 4 and 6 in particular and to recognize both matsui and damon’s efforts more than anybody in the team. today is when the yankees hit the city for their victory parade and it’s in moments like this that i miss new york the most.  

other things that i miss about new york from time to time:  

- the pulchritude in autumn exemplified by central park.

- the vivacity of the people, residents and tourists alike

- working at the empire state and feeling that i’m atop the world

- the subway rides while listening to my ipod

- chipotle because there’s not a good mexican place here in hawaii

 

as promised, here’s part two of the shake, rattle and roll, true horror stories and this time they all happened in japan while i was a student there. fyi, the japanese word for ghosts is obake.

episode one: the school girl obake

our friend bong, raj and i were walking on our way home from one of those karaoke parties we always had with our fellow filipino friends at school. the distance from the karaoke to our host family’s place was about 20 minutes by foot. it was past midnight then and as we were passing by a small park, raj suddenly asked bong and me ‘do you see it?’ but instead of looking to where raj’s eyes were, bong and i started running as fast as we could (me in high-heeled boots) and raj followed us instantly. needless to say, we were home in about 5 minutes. when mommy rose, our host mom opened the door, she was surprised to see us out of breath. we then asked raj what he saw. he said that he saw a vision of a small girl dressed in a school uniform, holding a balloon by the park’s mini playground. he tried to rationalize it by saying that the girl could have been waiting for her parents to pick her up. yes, in the middle of the night (insert sarcasm). but mommy rose knew better. she said that a month ago, a girl was hit by a car while crossing the street. she was on her way home from school. and almost everday, the parents brought fresh flowers to the site where she was killed which was across the park. since then, we avoided walking by the park at night, even if we had to use the longer alternate route.

episode two: the old TV

in japan, it is a common practice to give away your old stuff including furniture and appliance instead of throwing them away. this is because you have to pay a considerable sum of money for the garbage disposal truck, and each item costs differently. as we just moved from the dorm to an apartment and we were in need of stuff for our place, we accepted hand-me-down items from mommy rose’s japanese friend. we got a worn-out sofa made of rattan for our living room, a bunk bed for bong’s room and an old TV set which raj and i decided to put in our room. a few days later, father dave, the filipino priest who was the parish priest in town, came to our house and said nonchalantly that bong seemed to like his radio very loud. he said that he came to our apartment the previous day and while waiting for michelle, our other housemate, the radio from his room began to blast in full volume. bong was taken aback with father dave’s story because he said was already at school that time. michelle even saw him leaving the house. no one else was in the house except for michelle who was in her room prepping up. that same night as i was setting our dining table for dinner (we lived in a typical japanese apartment where rooms are close next to each other such that you can see our rooms from the kitchen), i saw our old TV turned on by itself. there was no picture in the tube; just static lines very similar to how it was in the ring. i started screaming and when my housemates saw why i was screaming, we just bolted out of the house ( i only had one pair of slippers on) and ran to our next door neighbors who were fellow filipinos and friends. after cooling down, we decided to go back to the apartment. when we got in, the TV was already turned off so we started screaming and ran back outside again. we decided then to call father dave who came soon enough to perform a house blessing. that night, all four of us slept in michelle’s room and even locked the door as if that would prevent the obake from appearing inside the room. but luckily, nothing more happened at least until a year later or so.

episode three: child’s play

ning, bong’s ex- who stayed with us in the apartment when michelle left us, brought home two small dolls. it was one of those dolls which plays a song when pressed, in this case the song was ‘it’s a small world’. she gave me and bong each a doll. i told ning that it would be downright scary if the doll started singing in the middle of the night but we just laughed about it as we didn’t expect it to happen anyway. but it did one night just when raj and i were about to sleep. after raj made the bed and smoothed the creases in our blankets and sheets, we turned off the light and lied down. raj and i were still chatting and goofing around when we heard ‘it’s a small world’ playing. our first reaction was to laugh at it, thinking that it could have been a battery malfunction and so i got up to check and to silence it. i knew exactly where the doll was in our room. as it had always been, it was atop our bookself which was several inches away from our bed. i even saw it when before we went to bed. i switched on the light, went to the bookshelf but the doll was missing from where i saw it last. i started to get frightened but kept looking for it by the bookshelf. raj was about to get up and help me when he found the doll in our bed under the blanket and tossed it to my direction in shock. i screamed so loud and ran out of our room. bong who just got out of the shower was curious naturally what the fuss was all about so i told him the whole story. very calmly, he got the two dolls, cut them into pieces and threw them away. and that was the end of the story. no child’s play 2. fortunately

it’s almost halloween, time for true spooky stories and i’ve had my own share of them.

***

my very first recollection of a ghost story happened when i was in sixth grade. they say that only one of our faculties can sense the presence of a ghost, an elemental being or what-have-you, and in my case it was the olfaction or faculty of smell. it was halloween, or the eve of all saints day as it was more popularly known in the philippines. my sister and i were watching the now-defunct ‘that’s entertainment’ in the living room. ha! so ‘jologs’, i know but we didn’t want to watch the halloween special of ‘magandang gabi, bayan’ with our dad in his room because we were scaredy-cats. while in the middle of the show, my sister and i both smelled candles burning and after confirming with each other that the smell wasn’t a product of each’s imagination, we ran to our dad’s room and told him what happened. he said that my mom could have lit some candles outside of the house, a tradition common in the philippines during the halloween to commemorate the departed loved ones. we went outside the house to check but saw no traces of candles burning or being lit.

***

our house in valenzuela is not haunted but once in a while, i feel the presence of some passers-by from another realm. there was one week when i was in my second year in college that all of us in the house felt these unearthly visitors. while preparing to school very early in the morning (i was the only person up in the house at that time), our old radio, unequipped with a timer, turned on by itself with full-blast volume. under normal circumstances, i would have been spooked but instead, i calmly turned off the radio and said in a cheery tone that i was running late for school and that i had no time for such silliness. when i got home that night, i told my sister and our house helper manang analyn what happened to me. manang analyn said that a couple of nights before, she woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. on her way to the bathroom, she thought she saw me in the living room, my back to her, holding the phone as if i was talking to someone. but she said she got chills right there and then that she decided to go back to her room immediately without using the bathroom. i swore to her that it wasn’t me because for one, i didn’t use the phone that night when she supposedly saw me in the living room. also, there was a phone extension in the room which my sister and i shared so i wouldn’t have gone out to use the phone in the living room. i wonder if it was a doppelganger, or a shape-shifter maybe if i want my story to be more into sci-fi than horror genre. anyway, going back to these unwelcome house guests ghosts, the next day while my sister was taking a shower she said that the bathroom light was turned off. i told her that the light bulb was probably acting up but she said she checked the switch and it was definitely off. so then we not only had a music lover, shape shifter visitor, we also had a voyeur in the house. funny but scary nonetheless.

***

this third story i remembered only some weeks ago. in my senior year in high school, my whole class went to a retreat in a seminary. i had read or heard stories about many lost souls hovering in retreat houses, perhaps seeking absolution or mercy from the faithful living. we only stayed in the seminary for a night. i shared a room with three friends and we decided to pull the twin beds next to each other because we wanted to be all together, plus we were all scared of ghosts and as they say, there is strength in numbers. nothing really happened that night, even when we woke up each other to go to the bathroom together. no traces of lost, haunting souls in the hallway. the morning after though, we woke up with our bed being shaken so violently. at first, we thought there was an earthquake but shortly after, we realized that only our bed was moving. i don’t remember now what we have done to make it stop. perhaps a prayer or two. perhaps it stopped by itself. or perhaps these lost souls only woke us up, never wanting to miss their chance of being forgiven through the intercession of our prayers.

(part two, coming up soon…)

i have a tendency to be laziness personified and i was just that for the past 6 months or so. moving here in hawaii and working from the comforts of home made me become so lethargic. gone were the long daily walks from our apartment in astoria to the subway station and no more climbing up and down the subway stairs. i never appreciated these activities that New York forced me to do until i realized i no longer fit in my size two clothes. the horror, the horror!

last week, i finally decided to go to the gym (24 hour fitness) and start a work-out that would help me lose a bit of weight and increase my metabolism again. i started with running the treadmill on a maximum speed of 4. i knew it wasn’t that much, especially for raj’s standards but it was a start.  i always had problems with running or walking fast because my legs itched for some reasons but i fought that off too. mind over matter. 24 hour fitness also offers various group classes which members can choose from.

on tuesday, i decided to try yoga. i even bought a pink mat to motivate me. i was a little worried that the people in the room with me would all be yoga experts with flexible body parts and all i had tucked under my belt was the wii fit yoga positions that i did so well on as confirmed by my virtual personal trainer. but my wii experience proved to be useful as i recognized some of the positions that my yoga instructor said from those that wii fit offered (e.g. warrior, triangle, sun). soon enough, i found myself enjoying yoga, even more than when i did it with wii fit. i liked how our instructor said that we should only do what we can do at the moment because after all, it’s our own journey that we make when we do yoga. i still have a lot more to work on which is good because it means i’ll be pushing myself further to explore my limits.

the next class i took was zumba which was scheduled on wednesday. i was initially intrigued by it. according to the 24 hour fitness activity sheet, zumba ‘combines high energy and motivating music with synchronized dance movements designed for any fitness levels. The routines feature aerobic fitness interval training with a combination of fast and slow rhythms that tone and sculpt the body.’ i did more research and found out that zumba infuses latin dances such as salsa, samba and flamenco to international music in order to create a fun workout. i also watched a video on youtube the night before and i knew right there and then that zumba was the class for me. i couldn’t stop gushing about it and i was grinning from ear to ear in anticipation. i’ve always wanted to take a dance class so zumba was a dream come true, and it was indeed. it didn’t fail me. it was the coolest and hippest physical education class that i have had in my entire lifetime. the modern jazz class that i took in college paled in comparison. and i knew it was the same for many judging by the queue of people wanting to get into the dance area. it was like a party down there minus the booze. but i’m telling you, the workout was so fast; it wasn’t for the faint of heart, literally speaking. after 15 minutes, i found myself near exhaustion and in need of water supply but i thought i was the only one who felt that as the rest continued to dance as if it was the most natural thing to do next to breathing. despite that, i finished the one-hour class and vowed to myself that i shall return the following week armed with all the energy i could muster. next time, i will be more ready.

i’ve been constantly going to the gym for over a week now and i actually look forward to working out. later today, i’m going to try turbo kickbox and then do yoga. gone is the lazy devil in me; i have excorcised it. welcome the new ‘athletic’ me.

i was being my couch-potato-self when i saw these scenes on reruns and i was reminded of the good old college years many eons ago.

scene from an episode of felicity – two characters are talking about having a pager. oh, pager! i lived in the era when pager was THE technology. i was never a gadget person and the first pager i had was a hand-me-down from my sister who was then about to migrate to the US for good. it was a relatively big and bulky motorola pager and which i later on gave or sell (i can’t remember now) to my friend mel. the second and the last pager i had, i bought it from my allowance. it was a small, sleek and blue motorola pager. i loved the sound of my pager beeping and the anticipation that accommpanied it as to who took the time to call the pager company to send me a message. of course, it wasn’t as interactive as texting or chats that cell phones have. it didn’t have any of the features that we now enjoy with the new technology. needless to say, the influx of cell phones made pagers obsolete.

scene from an episode of grey’s anatomy – drs. cristina yang, lexie grey and meredith grey dancing inside the latter’s house without a particular reason. i remember when my college friends and i would dance the night away at jing’s apartment. i remember one particular night when her apartment was adorned with blinking christmas lights so it felt like we were in a club minus the crowd; the dance floor all to ourselves. we danced for fun and relaxation, to free ourselves from the rigors of academic life and the pains of unrequited love. it was so easy then for a dance to relieve stress and to cure a broken heart. but more importantly, it felt good to share this activity that i truly enjoyed with my closest friends. i miss them a lot.

“I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen; that I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I will bear arms on behalf of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform noncombatant service in the Armed Forces of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform work of national importance under civilian direction when required by the law; and that I take this obligation freely without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; so help me God.”

SAY HELLO TO THE NEWEST AMERICAN CITIZEN!

last friday, my sister, raj and i decided to go karaoke. we decided to use my mom’s rav 4 since it was already parked outside the house. in exchange, we gave her the key of the vitara so she can use it to go to the party she was to attend later at night. i placed the keys by the mail box in our hallway where we usually hang our keys. i remember even pointing it to her so she would know where it was.

a couple of hours later, just when we were about to sing our hearts out, my mom called me and said that the keys were missing. she said it wasn’t by the mail box anymore. i asked her to look for it around the area, and even inside our room as i may have accidentally brought it back. she denied even touching it but just the same, i told her to look carefully in her room and in her things. she looked everywhere she could think of but still, no keys.

when we got home, my sister, raj and tried to find it in every nook and corner possible but to no avail. we were thinking someone might have sneaked into the house (while my mom was busy watching TFC in her room) which was entirely plausible, given that it wasn’t a rare occurrence in our area. we got a little worried because along with the vitara key are the house key and my dad’s car’s key which was parked outside the gate. after an hour or so, we finally gave up looking for the missing keys. both my dad and my mom said in passing, that it could be the dwende or the dwarves’ work.

the belief that misplaced things are the doings of house dwarves originates from the philippines. i actually don’t know if this is rooted in our culture or a concept that’s only shared by my family. after all, a manghuhula (psychic) once told my mom that our home in valenzuela housed 3 dwende(s) and they dwell in that single step separating the 3 bedrooms and toilet from the entire space in our house. the psychic didn’t know about this single step but she described it so knowingly that we had to believe in her. they were the good kind, she said of the dwende(s). they were taking care of your kids, she told my mom.

i don’t know how it all started but everytime there was a missing item in the house, we would always attribute it to the dwende(s). i remember instances when i would simply say, ‘ibalik nyo na ha!’ (please return it) to no one in particular and yet, believing that the dwende(s) would hear me. soon after, the object would present itself on its own. it is as luna lovegood said in the movie OotP, ‘things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end.’ but i know, even if it’s absolutely crazy, that the dwende(s) returned whatever they got from me in response to my plea. or sometimes, the missing objects would manifest very clearly in my dream and the next morning, i’d know where to find it.

so before i went to bed last friday, i made a silent request for the keys to show up in my dream and if it didn’t, then i can confirm they were stolen. as usual, i woke up before dawn to go to the bathroom but still, no keys in my dream. after using the bathroom, i thought of checking my dad’s car if it was still parked outside and lo and behold, i saw the keys hanging by the mail box where it supposedly was. i asked my grandma, who was still up and who knew we were looking for them, where the keys came from. i half-expected her to be surprised and say she knew nothing where it came from. but she said she found it under the dining table where we had searched previously.

on saturday morning, we were all happy to get back the missing keys and we talked about it for most of the day. we think our mom must have touched it and had completely forgotten where she placed them, which she vehemently denies. she maintains that it was the dwende’s doing. she even told us she did something for the dwende so it would return the keys.  i asked her jokingly if she did a sun dance. ‘no’, she said and then added,  nag-alay ako (i made an offering) in a serious tone. my sister asked what was the sacrifice she made. and i replied in jest, ‘oh she probably offered her third daughter (you) in exchange of the keys’ and we started laughing. oh well, dwende or otherwise i’m just glad that the keys turned up. and from now on, we are not to hang the keys by the mail box where anyone, including the dwende can take it.

this is one of those days when i wish i was back in my homeland. and why not? they have a loooong weekend in observance of the holy week.

i found this ironic because i dreaded holy week when i was younger even though i was born and raised a catholic and therefore, i understand (or should have understood) better what lent signifies for us. but then again, i am sinful and so i see not only what is but also what is not:

- no meat. this was the ultimate sacrifice for me. i’m not fond of sea food (except sushi and it was of course rare where i grew up) nor vegetables so i had to find other means to feed myself. fortunately, my parents never imposed fasting and abstinence in our house so i just stacked up junk foods.

- no TV, or at least the regular programming was off from maundy thursday until black staurday. the only programs we could watch were religious shows like ten commandments, the film about christ’s passion (not by mel gibson), fr. sonny’s seven last words special with dramatization, our lady of lourdes apparation, and 7th heaven marathon (which came only years later). in truth, i wasn’t a TV junkie when i was young and yet i felt like holy week was taking away the one source of pleasure that was readily available to me (which was exactly the point of it all).

- no bathing after 3pm on good friday. i am not sure where this tradition originated from but since holy week usually fell at the peak of summer in manila, bathing was a necessity. i just made sure i took a bath before 3pm in keeping the faith.

- no clipping fingernails and toe nails on good friday. this was something that my elder sister told me but i did not question the wisdom of her age. in any case, clipping can wait since i never had broken nails on a good friday. plus no one ever said biting one’s nails was also forbidden.

- no loud noises. like no singing at the top of your lungs; no shouting; no playing the drums (well i don’t play the drums anyway but i would have wanted to if i could). in short, we were quiet as a mouse. and i hate mouse, much more to be like one.

- no complaints. i remember when i was in first grade, my mom and my auntie pia took my sister and me to antipolo for the station of the cross and i hated all the walking and climbing up the stairs. but of course, i had to refrain myself from kvetching lest i be accused of unbecoming a catholic. my silence and obedience paid off in the end because my mom bought me the most delicious kalamay i have ever tasted in my life (and to this day, i still long for its taste). i don’t think we ever did station of the cross again, or it’s possible that i may have declined to go again.

- no jesus. he’s dead until easter sunday and this scared me like hell. no pun intended. i was pretty sure the ghosts and monsters were everywhere, fearless in the absence of jesus. i suppose i took seriously that third episode of shake, rattle ‘n roll, haha. for your information, that was the story of how a manananggal terrorized a small town on a good friday.

at 4
i wanted to be a doctor. who didn’t?

at 5
i wanted to be a flight stewardess. i had not yet ridden a plane when i was this age so i wasn’t sure where the idea came from. maybe from TV. i just knew that being a flight stewardess meant traveling the world, and that i wanted to do. i came from a family of migrants and in my young mind, i knew that i had a family that i can visit in hawaii.

at 7
i wanted to be a pilot. the first female pilot in the philippines, my mom coaxed. from flight stewardess to pilot. i just promoted myself. now how about that?

at 8
i wanted to be an architect, after asking my mom what an architect does. the word sounded so cool, i just had to be that person. i thought designing houses or buildings was an easy feat. after all, there were too many structures in the world. how hard could that be?

at 9
i imagined myself as the president of the philippines. i was just elected class president. yes, i was an ambitious politician in the making.

at 11
i told my mom i wanted to be a writer. i remember handwriting movie scripts in a notebook. alas, my mom crushed my dream and said there was no money in this career.

at 12
i decided i wanted to be a lawyer. my sixth grade yearbook is a testimony to this ephemeral childhood dream. i imagined myself serving the poor victims of injustice and inequality. plus, an esquire after my name was a prestige in itself.

at 14
i toyed with the idea of entering the military. after all, i was on my way to becoming the core commander of our ACP class. but after attending an encampment for one week, i realized i wasn’t cut for such rigorous training in the military. truth be told, i even faked my period just so i can skip off the exercises in the morning.

at 15
i applied to a number of colleges and universities without a clearcut idea of what i wanted to take as my major. i was more concerned about passing the entrance exams. in up diliman, i chose journalism as my first choice; dentistry in up manila; philosophy in ust and in plm; communications (or somethin’ like that) in holy spirit.

at 16
i enroled in up and i thought i was on my way to becoming a journalist, although in the recesses of my heart i knew i wanted something else.

at 18
i changed majors. i was tired of the long queues i had to endure signing up for journalism classes, of pretending that i wanted to be a journalist. i chose between broadcasting and film, and after a very short deliberation with myself (i didn’t consult not a single person), i opted for the latter. it was, in truth, a spur of the moment decision. but a very good one, i must say. no regrets at all.

at 20
i wanted to be either a film editor or a film critic after i graduated. i was confident these were two film areas i could excel in.

at 21
i had internship with one of the biggest advertising agencies in manila. but it was too much pressure on my end to extract creative juices so i finished the internship and never looked back.

at 22
i joined the real world and found myself disillusioned with the philippine film industry. with no other options at hand, i accepted a writing job in a small public relations firm. i was pretty sure alanis morisette was singing ‘ironic’ to me. after changing majors, who would have thought i’d end up with a writing career?

at 24
i flew to japan to become a full-time student once more. this time, i took asia pacific studies, major in tourism. in between, i worked in a hotel and exposed myself to its horrors. i alo worked for canon, although that was a very short-lived job (only 6 days).

at 25
i started performing for apu bayanihan. it was then that i realized all i wanted to be was a professional dancer. and if i could turn back the hands of time and be 4 years old again, i would have told my mom i wanted to be a dancer, not a doctor. perhaps, she would enrol me in ballet or any dancing school, and i would have been a dancer all my life. at 25, it was too late to learn and be what i could have been. this realization is one of my life’s disappointments.

at 26
i wrote my thesis on the aviation industry in the asia-pacific with the philippines as a case study. and because of this, i entertained the idea of working for an airline. after all, my desire to travel did not die with my frequent trips to the US and my stay in japan. if anything, it has deepened it even more.

at 27
i entered the corporate world, fresh from school. i have become a sales advisor/education consultant to a language school and i have exceled in the job. i never have imagined myself working in the field of sales and so i surprised myself at being good at it. but this was not the highlight of my year. it was that, at 27, i became a wife to the love of my life.

at 28
i was promoted to a supervisor position. i moved to NY where i had my own office at the empire state building; i had two assistants working for me and i thought i was the peak of my career, albeit overworked.

at 30
i want to be a mother.

we went food hopping and shopping over the weekend and boy, was i like a little kid with a bag of goodies after trick or treatin’  with all that i ate and bought.

on saturday, hubby and i went to a japanese restaurant, after passing up panda express although i’m still craving for their eggplant and tofu entree. yummy. anyway, i was craving for japanese food and we passed by this restaurant called gyotaku. it looked expensive from the outside so raj was a bit hesitant to go, the scrooge that he is (kidding!) but me and my charm *cough* convinced him. so off we went and we found out that the prices were average. they also had lunch specials so it was right within our budget. raj had katsu-don and i had ahi poke (sashimi) for appetizer and tempura roll, which was one of the best i’ve tasted in my entire sushi-tasting career. it was so good, my mouth is watering just thinking about it now. i can’t wait to go back there. maybe this weekend.

for dessert, we opted for matsumoto shave ice. we drove (or raj did. i slept the entire trip) up north to halaeiwa to satisfy our need to have the famous shave ice. for $2.50, you get small shave ice with three flavors and ice cream. as usual, i had cotton candy, bubble gum (what can i do?  i’m a kid at heart) and banana cream.

and then on sunday, my dad’s co-worker had a party at max (yes, the same sarap to the bones restaurant we have in manila). it was a buffet lunch with about 7 choices and i got lumpia (which was yummy with the sauce), rice, pansit, chopseuy, lechon, and of course, chicken. i was so full but that didn’t stop me from ordering mais con keso (corn with milk and cheese ice cream) for dessert.

we also went to don quijote and pacific supermarket to get more food. and these are what i bought – ah, my life’s simple joys:

• a big bottle of kirin afternoon red tea – my fave drink when i was in japan. it was bit expensive though ($5++) so I only bought one
• jack n’ jill pretzels
• fish balls – although it’s not the same without the brown sauce of my UP days
• 2 cans of thai iced tea – i like try ‘em first and if they’re good, i’ll buy more. the vietnamese restaurant nearby sells thai iced tea for $2.99. i think it’s tad pricey when it’s prolly mixed from an instant packet.
• rambutan – i like them better than lychees. oh wait, there’s no comparison. i don’t like lychees. they make me dizzy for some reasons.
• clover chips – cheesier
• a slice of chocolate cake from goldilocks – i should have bought more!
• mango-flavored selecta ice cream – sadly, there’s no queso real
• salted red eggs – haha! i miss the taste.

all through the weekend, i was craving for macaroons so raj bought ingredients when we went food shopping. yesterday, he baked some (his first time ever) and they came out like macaroons, and they tasted like macaroons too – only better. now, i must eat some more.

toodles folks!