The routine, part 2

The view from my balcony: the old palace, the monorail, the river and the temple

 
Since moving to Brickfields in mid-June, my morning routine has changed a bit. I can wake up half an hour later, which is a significant improvement for me. The neighborhood is Kuala Lumpur's Little India, but there are Malaysian Chinese residents as well.

It is still dark outside when I wake up at 620, but it is light by the time I get out into the street an hour later. In between, the bells of the Hindu temple across the street tell me whether I should hurry up or take my time.

When I step out, I see brown dogs approaching the bare-chested holy men of the temple. A flock of pigeons is almost always waiting for their bread crumbs in front of the other Hindu temple down the road.

In front of the next condo, parents in their Indian tunics and saris wait for the orange Bas Sekolah (school bus) to pick up the children in their blue uniforms every school day and wave them goodbye with big smiles. The vegetarian restaurant around the corner is already open for business. The flower shop across it is accepting the day's deliveries.

Crossing the road, I pass by a row of homes. The ginger cat in front of the fourth house greets me with a meow every time. The sidewalk has bags of uncollected garbage, so I hold my breath every few strides. There's the rice dealer, the coconut dealer, the eateries, and the budget hotel before I get to the 7-11 at the corner. If I pass by in the afternoon, I sometimes hear the sound of the trumpet and basketball being played at back of the YMCA.

On the next street, a crowd is always waiting for the bus to arrive. I wait for the green pedestrian light before crossing the temporary covered walkways to the underbelly of KL Sentral, where I take the coach to LCCT.

My area can be quite dodgy late at night, a den of snatch thieves and prostitutes. Parts of the area are from the 1960s and aren't in the best shape. I'm here only because of the location. The rough facade of the neighborhood keeps me alert and won't make me too soft for Manila. At least that's how I see it, practically speaking. I miss the fresh air and the relative peacefulness of my old place. But I'm a city girl. This is where I thrive.

Transitive Verses, part 5

Even more embarrassing thoughts from the commute. I really shouldn't be posting these but I feel compelled to for some reason I cannot understand.


the men arguing at the corner have it better
they're exchanging ideas, mind to mind.
the neighbour who honks and waves as he drives past
at least makes a sign that you exist.
who dares to escape this haze
when sandals scrape the pavement
where the cats don't budge an inch.
why try to decipher
what madness one wrestles with,
walking through cobwebs
just to see eye to eye with you.

[SkyBus, 3 May]

Can't even tell if you are a star and if you are, what what makes you so bright?
The street lights race across the window but fail to measure up to you
Like minarets against the dome.

I've changed more than you know, eyes lined awake, nails black as jet,
But I only want one kiss from the dusty, pockmarked face
Of the big white moon tonight.

[SkyBus, 8 May]

Transitive Verses, part 4

baju kurung

has someone ever told you, little girl, that your head is above the clouds?
see: the sun won't show you the world yet but time ambles on for none.
the tracks grumble under the weight of heavy slumbering wheels.
you need to keep reality in check, you and your paisley dreams.
envy the man beside you with a screen, defeating evil in pixels.
watch your neighbours sleep grey naps as the day begins
and your mind wanders far with you and your paisley dreams.
so count your black shoes and whistle as buildings fly past,
watch the city wake with a groan, the cranes spring to life,
as the mist rolls on and leaves trails behind
for you and your paisley dreams.

[LRT, 2 May, morning]

comment message update

when they say the screen is blurred
they mean their eyes have swelled--
you've been away too long
that your absence weighs upon the waiting,
the ones you left behind.
the mothers feel as though
they've lost all their children
while watching the drama
on a blue-and-white screen.
(their sentimentality is catching)
a woman's heart is crushed every second
into tiny fragments that cannot be recovered
and this will happen over and over
until all turns to dust.

[SkyBus, 2 May, evening]

Transitive Verses, part 3

I took so many photos on my recent trip that I needed to balance them out with words.


walang pamagat

pahintulutan mong mangyari
ang lahat ng itinakda
ng unibersong maalam.
hindi magaganap ito
kung hindi ka sumang-ayon;
hayaan mong magkatotoo
ang mga dating hula.
hindi magtatagal at mauunahan ka ng tadhana
tanggapin ang bawat alay
at iyong ibigay ng buo
ang bawat kataga at hininga.

bawat yapak ay ipinangako na.
ikaw at ako ay hamak na tauhan
sa isang masalimuot na dula
kung saan hindi tayo and bida.

[21 April, Suvarnabhumi Airport]


untitled

there are no lifesavers
but there is no tide.
let the boats pass by
and melt in the breeze.
wish the sands were closer
without having to row.
let the vessel tilt but not precariously
the clouds won't be heavy
on this mid-day cruise.
we've shared so much sun between us
an hour more upstream,
disconnected from home,
lulled by the humming of an engine.

[22 April, on a boat on the Mekong river, Laos]

Transitive Verses, part 2

Flying is a great time to clear your head.

Bangkok

The city is a network of synapses,
constantly fired by an unknown source.
Unseen in the daylight,
resplendent at night.

[20 April, AK836 KULBKK]


unrelated

I
across the aisle,
a crossword puzzle teasing each empty square.
across the room,
the blank tile on a board of words.
across the sea,
a trail of messages floating on unseen waves.
across this table,
the vast void between you and me.

II
you are nothing but a character in my head,
floating in a plot i am itching to finish,
its elements suspended in limbo--
a story waiting for a writer
who cannot find his pen.

III
ultramarine on teal,
a band of midnight blue
lightning flashes behind the space
where darkness kisses
the last flares of sunlight
over a rusty hue.

the fading symphony of colour
arranged in seven bars.

shivering in this well-lit cabin,
wishing for warm arms
to fight the blues and yellows.
the odd fishing boats scattered
below me like fallen stars.

[20 April on AK836, KULBKK]


Suvarnabhumi

Maghapon sa loob ng paliparan,
Hindi man lang makalipad.
Nakapusturang pormal
Habang nakaupo sa tabi,
Nagsusulat ng mga pangalan
Ng mga hindi nakikilala
Ngunit paparating sa ilang saglit.
Nakikita mo ba ang palatandaan,
Napapansin ang paparating?
Pagod na naghahanap ng anino
Habang nakasabog ang mga papel sa sahig.
Walang katapusang paghihintay,
Walang humpay na pagdagsa,
Ang listahan ay walang hangganan,
Laman lamang ang iyong pangalan.

[20 April, Bangkok-Suvarnabhumi Airport]

Transitive Verses, part 1

This is the first installment of short free verses written in transit. I'm rusty at poetry, so by making these attempts public, I am forcing myself to polish what I write and cause as little embarrassment as possible. Here goes.

Nine Hundred Seconds

As the pink flames beckon me to take
The first one hundred and twenty steps back to earth,
A single thought crosses my mind.
When the lights perform their reversal,
The twinkling beacons are bittersweet reminders
Of your sudden absence.
And then I question the loneliness of heights--
Perhaps a spiteful poet's invention.
In my head nine hundred seconds
Go on perpetual repeat,
My feet retracing each step
Back to the moment when
I bid you a silent goodbye.

[LRT, 18 April, 7:15am]


untitled

waiting for the red dots on the clock to blink
into their next configuration.
a trivial game is better
than the thought of a lifetime's splendid summers
fading before your eyes.
anything.
even the radio kindly lends an upbeat tune
to pick up the speed of a heart
beating ever so slowly.
waking up with dry, uneasy eyes
and squeezing words from silenced lips--
a terrifying routine as comfortably hidden
as rehearsing lines never to be spoken.
the lonely umbrella against the door
is the sole witness to the distant but visible
pulse of the lighthouse,
measuring the distance between us
as muted memories drown
in these clipped, vague replies.

[Skybus, 18 April, 8:10pm]

Hey now, you're an Allstar

Get your game on, go play.

Two months into the job, I'm very proud to be an Allstar working for a great airline brand, one of the great Asian business stories of the past decade. Everyone at RedFort, our freezing-cold HQ, works hard and plays hard, from the ramp boys to the FAs to the office staff. There's so much talent and dedication here that it's catching.

Formula 1 drivers in the office? Check!

A fun corporate culture: Allstars in beach wear to celebrate the Philippines' AirAsia launch

Barclays Premier League Trophy visits RedFort

It's an office with no doors. You can literally walk up to our Group CEO, Tan Sri Tony Fernandes, to say hi. (I did.)

In total, there are nearly 10,000 of us working across the region. It's quite a change coming from a company of 15 to a department of 150, but I'm thankful every day for the chance to do something I enjoy.

Our latest TVC

AirAsia (say ehr-EYzhuh) flies from Clark to Kota Kinabalu and Kuala Lumpur. Philippines' AirAsia now flies to Kalibo (Boracay), Puerto Princesa (Palawan) and Davao from Clark. More destinations coming soon. We're also hiring. Fly with us!

The routine

It's been a month since I arrived in Kuala Lumpur. I have settled into a simple routine.

My day starts at 550am, right when the nearby mosque's call to prayer starts. My breakfast is muesli or granola splashed with either a yogurt drink or Vitagen (a Yakult equivalent). I prepare my Nutella-and-jam sandwich to take to work before taking a shower. At 650am, I am ready to leave. Since I live in the last building of condo, I take the long and winding road to the gate. It is still dark by this time. The lights of the 120-plus steps down are turned off early, so I dare not take it.

The 15-minute walk downhill is an interesting one. The covered walkway is dotted with food vendors with tables of viands, sandwiches or curry puffs. I pass by school children waiting for their buses. Most of the women I walk alongside are fully covered, except for their hands and faces. I take the LRT to KL Sentral, where I ride the bus for the hour-long trip to LCC Terminal, where I work. I try to take a nap on the way to the office.

I leave the airport sometime between 630pm and 8pm. It's hard to fall asleep on the bus when my mind is still active, so I usually check social media on my phone. Seeing KL Tower and Petronas Twin Towers in the distance as the bus pulls into town never fails to makes me smile. Then it's back on the train, which is efficient and often just as cold as our freezing office.

I take a cab uphill from the station if it's late, raining heavily or if I am carrying groceries. Otherwise, it's a climb up to the condo. I like to describe it as going up Batu Caves, only the slope is gentler and longer. On most nights, I pass by mamak stalls and tables of diners. I feel safe having people out. Our area is quite mixed, with low-class flats and a high-end condo not far apart (ours is somewhere in between). But with the ongoing construction, property values are sure to rise soon.

So that's my routine, which I wanted you to imagine. It's pretty tiring, but I'm happy with it. I get to do some walking that actually counts as exercise and I have quiet time for reflection. Will tell you more soon. Stay tuned.

Under the sheets

The reason why the beds at home are soft appears to be a mathematical one. It's amazing to see great inventions in your room.

And if you're still wondering what this is, click here. Worth it, I think, considering how much time we spend sleeping.

TNAV

The Metro Manila Traffic Navigator now includes Marcos Highway. Not the entire stretch, but it's good to know that this area is important enough to be monitored. It's quite cool when it updates before your eyes.

Happy driving!

So young, so young

And now for something a little more personal.

My brother went to three funerals within a week. All of the deceased were in their early teens. [Insert Multiply tribute videos and comments of condolence.]

The past few days have been emotionally strange. High-low-high-low-high-low, like a roller coaster I wish I could get out of. But when you're strapped onto the seat, there's no other way but to enjoy it and take everything in.

I don't want to be morbid, but if I died today, it would be fine. I have not left anything unsaid, though there's so much that I want to do in this lifetime.

Enough of this diary mode. I'm going to paint.

Rizal, masked + An Ideal Husband

near Katipunan/Aurora

Manong Jose, have we let you down?

Unrelated, but feel free to make the connection...

I was wondering why this particular article has been high on the most-emailed list of the NYT. It turns out that it makes perfect common sense.

Media Heroes + An observation :)

Hurray for Robert McChesney, CTW and Indymedia for being named Media Heroes by Reclaim the Media! There must be more new media heroes waiting in the wings. And while you think of a media hero to nominate, scan their reading list of interesting titles.

[via Boing Boing]


In the last couple of weeks, I've received an unusual number of compliments from friends of different genders, supermarket baggers and security personnel. My favorite moment was what the cafeteria server said after he nearly gave me french fries with salad when I asked for half rice and mixed veg: "Sorry, ma'am. Natulala lang sa iyong kagandahan." (Lame excuse? He certainly looked like he won some kind of jackpot when he was preparing the food.) Then I realized that the song from Annie is true: you're never fully dressed without a smile. Don't leave home without it.

Ice cream Sundays + podCrafting

The simple joys of my Sunday routine. After doing the groceries with ma in the supermarket, we have lunch. And then, before going home, we buy P5 ice cream from the mall. That's about 6 pence for a small scoop and a wafer cone. Not-free tryvertising from Nestle and Selecta, which have their freezers back-to-back. For less than the local price of gelato, you can have a taste of each of the six flavors of the two brands. Now that's cool.

Because I love Common Craft and dream of podcasting:

Seen and heard #2

Who is trap?

Keeping the mood light with a few things seen and heard in the city.

Guy to girl in cinema after Mamma Mia trailer: "Panonoorin mo, 'no? Ewwwww."

Bakery sign: Bread Pit

Chowking Fish Sauce ingredients: 100% fresh fish (I'm pretty sure it's anything but)

Tagging along with Mrs. Contractor

In a parallel universe, my mom is a no-nonsense building contractor. True Value, Handyman, Ace Hardware and Home Depot are her favorite haunts.

Office phase

The secret lives of office stuff.

Surrounded by green

Pretending to be outdoors when I'm stuck inside.

Seen and heard #1

I'm starting this series of posts on the simultaneously humorous and irritating side of city life. I'll start with a train ride where my seatmate was clipping her nails. Mabuti pa yung nasa tapat ko, nagbabasa ng To Kill A Mockingbird.. Serious.

Being no makeup expert, I feel for women who either have a wrong shade of blusher for their skin color (think pink more suitable for Snow White) or a very unnatural application. When someone satisfies both conditions and is a Tourism/HRM student, it's hard to sympathize anymore. Isn't there a class on grooming and presentation?

One saleslady to another, while watching Marian Rivera dance videos: "Mas may alindog si Katrina [Halili]."

Signs for an eatery in Manila: Healthy and nutritious food.
Under this sign: Sizzling Sisig. (Oo nga naman, fat is a nutrient.)

Sign on a grassy lot with goats grazing: Slow Down Populated Area.

Signboards on the way to Tagaytay. The revenge of the apostrophe + s:
Bird's for sale, Plant's for sale, Fruit's stand
(My brother's theory is that the same signmaker made them.)

Behind a golf cart: Please don't seat.

Woman taking empanada order to customer (me): "M'am, chicken or fork?" I think it's pretty obvious what I got.

MA dissertation update #7

How I spent the weekdays of January:

• Nine hours (on average)- mentally wrestling with the dissertation, interspersed with listening to podcasts and watching video podcasts. I usually start at 10 or 11am, then finish between 6 and 8pm. If I write quickly, I'd churn out an advertorial. Ika nga ni Sr. Iris, "Patience is a virtue, possess it if you can; found seldom in a woman, never in a man..."
  
• Lunch and snack- toasted wheat bread with whatever filling I can find. Quick and easy, but nowhere near Pret. I also do a bit of reading during breaks.
  
• Nightcap - a movie, usually Korean. My impression of Korean cinema has been shattered by some terrible films. I skip this when I'm online late.

I'm keeping to this routine until 18th February, when the draft is due. Do I get bored? Of course I do. That's why we look forward to weekends, right?