listing/delisting

It's too late to make that list – Christmas was a few days ago and Santa might already be too busy trashing another mount of unserved requests from the naughty ones. And I'm probably a bit old to make that list. I get the feeling that Christmas wishing is a kid's domain and with the frequent pains on my back, I know I'm way past this juvenility.

Ok, ok. So that's clearly sour graping after I didn't get that battery-operated Astroboy. Fact is, I still keep a sort of 'mental' list of things I hope to get (and even bargained with Santa that it is not necessarily for Christmas).

Here are some items:

Financial Freedom. This has been on my list for some years until a few weeks ago when the news said that the P741MM prize money in the Grand Lotto was already won by a balikbayan winner. I hinged my fancy of living the multi-millionaire life on winning that sum so I decided to scratch it off, at least for now. The last time I checked, the prize money was still around P50MM (that's barely the cost of Prado's I swore to give to friends). I even attended talks and did research on achieving financial freedom just to evidence how serious I was at getting it. What I often catch is that it's not how much you make but how much you save that matters. Well, I get that but I don't get that. To me, it still largely how much you earn first and the savings part just follows. This earned a barrage of counter statements and I got tired of countless debates on this issue so I'm not raising my arguments now. Bottom line is, there's still no bottom line on my profit statement and the figures on my bank accounts are only the account numbers.

Being Superman. I used to hanker about being unbeatable by anything. Imagine how life can get so easy when you're tougher than the things that you ought to overcome, stronger than the foes you ought to defeat. Like that indomitable spirit who can say that there'll be no mountain too high to climb, no river too wide to cross. But I can no longer recall the last time that I attempted to climb a mountain and I bet my neighbor's 5-year old son can beat me at the irrigation across my house with his breaststroke while I struggle with my dog-style. My only consolation is that at least I have a point of similarity with Clark Kent in the form of kryptonite, only I form my own in my kidneys.

Beach, book and pina colada. A triviality to many but that is to me the picture of peace and content. I thought this is an easy thing to get since it doesn't involve much external force, just a self-exercise. But boy, it's tough exercise for someone who personifies annoyance and protest. Excluding the hypocrites, I could count with the fingers of my right hand those who can convince me they're truly satisfied and not wanting for more. Ok, that's bitterness ringing true but at a point I hoped to become the first finger to stretch on my left hand.

Three things and I might have had Santa flabbergasted. Maybe they're as expensive as that Astroboy robot.

Not getting the things you wished for teaches you four important things: one, humility. Maybe Santa's heart will melt seeing you coy in one corner, heart opened to the heavens for a divine downpour. Two, the dignity of labor. Some presents are not standing ready at your doorstep on Christmas morning. Some are seeds that need to be sown, then watered, then watched over to shoo the pests until they bloom and come into fruition. Consequent to this, you get to learn the capacity to wait. Heck, no seed was mutated yet to bear fruit a day after it was sown. Lastly and perhaps most importantly is the ability to have hope and faith. This gives you the vigor to wake up to a new day and without despair even if the X's on your calendar near the 31st of December.

This understanding somehow brings back the juvenility in me (that's why I still make that list although I can't really enumerate the items now). Perhaps, I learned to wish for simpler things too: peace in the family that endures through a battery of distress and the esteem (not the admiration) of people around. There are other things but they're better left unspoken lest I get jinxed again.

But since it's still the holidays, how about a deeper patience and keener understanding for starters? I hope Santa doesn't get flabbergasted one more time.

scenes on a bus

Iligan, Cagayan! Larga na ta hapit!

Grabbed the ailse seat on the sixth row, bag on the overhead compartment. After the Kumalarang bus hold-up, I seldom pick the first five. 6.30am, forgot to ring an alarm. Iligan it will be, Cagayan will be too late. Damn stone mill, I could buy a new pair of pants for the thousand.

Few passengers on this trip. Only three or four when I got in.

Itlog! Mineral! Saging! Cookies!

30ish lady comes up, sits on the front seat. Asks driver what time expected to arrive in Cagayan. 1pm or so, Manong driver replies. Sound of egg shells cracking. Calls outside, mineral gamay tag-pila? (How much is a small bottle of mineral water?) Checked for my liter, a new part of my travel gear. Somehow learned to finish in three gulps. Good boy, doc will be happy.

Manang and young daughter come up, settle on the row next to mine. Daughter looks outside while Mama puts bags in the compartment.

Ako si takuri, gamay og dako...

A rhyme from pre-school Flores de Mayo. I tried to follow the verse but they soon become indecipherable. How many of those songs can I still remember?

Engine comes to life.

In minutes, we pass by my side of town. Didn't tell Mamang I'm seeing the uro again. Why cause some more worries? This is just routine, one of those times, perhaps still many times until I learn to watch my manners. I tell my sisters instead.

B U T T E R S L Y, butterfly!

The rhyme makes my first morning smile. That little kid's singing. Childhood perhaps is the happiest point in our lives when we have the least care about the world as long as we get to sing nursery rhymes, no matter how garbled the lines can sometimes get. We just go with what our senses evoke.

B U T T E R S S Y, butterfly.

Tried to take a nap then a text message - I am such a 'lousy' friend. I tried to compose but realized no point in sending a retort. I have other things to worry about.

Manang hushes little girl, 'other passengers will be disturbed'. Little girl hums Leron, leron sinta. It's ok, I thought of saying but the droning lulls a tired soul to rest.

Bus halts to the first stopover. Another bus from another line tails behind. Barkers lure the passengers to their transports. A blind man in wooden crutches comes up, strums his crude ukelele and sings Mutya ka baleleng. A younger boy tries to guide him through the ailse, a can clanks with coins in one hand. I am glad that I only have back pains but I am not glad that life can sometimes be so limiting like this pauper's daily treks up the bus and ukeleles giving off beat strums of life's prejudices. There should be greater purpose for this man of broken chords than just make passengers like me feel thankful about what's put in my platter. With the noise of these issues in my mind, I drop my donation and it doesn't make a sound.

At the next bus stop, Manang comes up and looks for an empty seat. 'Linda?', the lady behind me calls up. 'Myrna? Oy, kumusta na man ka?' starts the long chat. Classmates from grade school years, haven't met for more than twenty years. I close my eyes but scenes of their early life flash in my mind: the dance in the municipal plaza, a certain Temiong (I recall how my mother gets giddy at Robert Redford), how their marrried lives fare and children. I haven't seen a pal from more than twenty years in quite a while. The last one I saw was with a pregnant wife on a jeepney ride to home and shared stories of life at war. This brings about some nostalgic sense.

Another lady hails the bus to a stop. We stay for a while while Manang's kinhason are loaded in the compartment below. She checks her list and then barks to a buyer on her cellphone. The propellers of countryside economy. If only for that, I'll stand by the stink. 

A short nap and finally, we reach Iligan. Other scenes are then waiting to unfold.

(If I travel by land, I use to pick the air-conditioned bus since they by far offer the convenience not given by the regular buses. But I was grateful for taking this one trip – regular buses have more stories to tell. I hope in my future land trips, if my patience allow, I'll be on another regular bus.)