November 2-8 Edition
Jonathan Aquino's Journals
September 4, 2013
I had a telepathic time-traveling dream again. I keep
talking to voices when I couldn't see anyone, jumping from one scene to another
like a pingpong ball.
I was walking in the woods, giant
trees all around me. It's like an enchanted forest from a Brothers Grimm story.
At the end of the clearing, I saw the mansion in Antipolo in Rizal province in the Philippines where I grew up. I
saw my aunt Mama Bai, who died in 1989.
She was standing in front of the
outdoor kitchen sink that's full of water, her hands submerged, washing
something but I couldn't see what it was. We were talking and laughing. I was
asking for something that's strapped to her waist but she wouldn't give it to
me because it's dangerous.
I jumped to another place but I couldn't see anything except
a sort of endless void, colored like coffee with cream. A voice was telling me
that a certain temple in Jerusalem used to be a church "before they put
the crescent moon over it."
In an instant, I saw a group of
Moors with a large metal pole with a crescent moon symbol. With ropes, they were
hauling it to the roof.
I jumped to a different scene.
Across the street was a small Catholic chapel. Instead of a wall, there was a
gate with metal bars from floor to ceiling. Inside was a priest and some nuns
and altar boys, all dressed in white. They were looking at a man outside
dressed in blue Arab clothes. He was kneeling, his forehead to the ground in
the traditional Muslim worship, but facing the altar.
On my right, next to the chapel, is
a Chinese temple with its doors open, the Buddhist monks inside lighting
incense.
"This would be a great
picture," I remember thinking, "a symbol of religious harmony!"
I ran to get my camera. I found myself at the
back of the house of my aunt and godmother Tita Fe, which is on the next street
from our house. I was wearing only white briefs, and my feet hurt from running
barefoot. Then I'm at the front of the house. I saw Tita Fe, looking so young
and happy, going out the door. She's still alive as I write this but the years
have taken their toll. We smiled and I kissed her on the head. She's leaving
but promised to bring me a chicken fillet from Wendy's.
I entered her house. I was alone,
mentally talking to someone who sounds like the voice of Optimus Prime in the
Transformers cartoon even when the TV was off. We were making a bet but I don't
remember what about. He also wanted to show me something. What's vivid is that
I went inside because I wanted to watch the cartoon.
In a flash, I saw myself in a white
bathroom, washing my feet under a faucet. I jumped again. I was in the Lahug
public market in Cebu, asking how much is the tapsilog, a local dish of dried
beef, egg and fried rice. When I heard the price, I cursed them for their
"pathetic greed."
***
"Just got home, idiot me left
phone in the house," I replied to a friend's text message at 4:53 in the
afternoon. "I got my NBI [National Bureau of Investigation] clearance and borrower's card from the library
but they're asking for a 'guarantor' who's a city hall employee or barangay
official in Cebu City."
The idea is to assign someone who
will pay because they think people borrow books to steal them. I don't know
anybody in the local officialdom, but as much as I find it disgusting to deal
with government bureaucrats, starting with getting a library card, I guess I'll
have to find another one.
I found treasure as I scouted the
entire library: the out-of-print literary gems by the great German mystic
Herman Hesse. I finished two of his novels today.
When I was a kid, I've felt an
inexplicable kinship with Siddharta, the Brahmin who renounced the world's
illusions in his timeless classic, which I wrote about in our
August 10, 2013 edition.
I am on a similar journey of
discovery and enlightenment, like Siddharta, like Hesse himself.
Herman Hesse belonged to the
League, a secret society of men in pursuit of wisdom that transcends the
material world.
"Our Journey to the East and
our League, the basis of our community, has been the most important thing,
indeed, the only important thing my life," he writes in The Journey To The
East."My tales becomes even more difficult because we not only wandered
through space, but also through Time. We moved towards the East, but we also
traveled in the Middle Ages and the Golden Age. We roamed through Italy to
Switzerland, but at times we also spent the night in the 10th century and dwelt
with the fairies."
My favorite character is the
pilgrim Leo, beneath whose placid calm lies unfathomable power. I fully intend
to achieve Leo's serenity and sense of oneness with the animal kingdom. I love
dogs and cats and horses, and they are drawn to me: that's a start. Leo talks
about the Biblical King David, and he says that the happiest time in David's
life was when he was just a simple shepherd boy: a lovely youth who plays music
to sooth the ragged soul of King Saul.
"That," says Leo,
"is just what life is when it is beautiful and happy - a game."
How can two young men born
centuries apart and on the opposite sides of the globe be so much alike? I felt
a weird feeling of dislocation when I came across Hermann Heilner, the
rebellious poet and Hesse's alter ego in Beneath The Wheel, his "spiritual
autobiography."
"What an odd fellow! Han's
worries and desires simply did not exist for him," writes Hesse. Hermann
Heilner "had thoughts and words of his own, he lived a richer and freer
life" and "seemed to despise everything around him. He understood the
beauty of the ancient columns and walls. And he practiced the mysterious and
unusual art of mirroring his soul in verse and constructing a semblance of life
for himself out of his imagination. He was quick and untamable and had more fun
in a day than Hans in an entire year. He was melancholy and seemed to relish
his own sadness like an unusual condition, alien and delicious."
Hermann defied the stupid rules in
their seminary boarding school. He was even forbidden to walk in the garden
with his best friend Hans because of his reputation as someone who doesn't
conform. Heilner has nothing but contempt for narrow-minded hypocrites.
"The authorities demanded that
he throw himself on their mercy," writes Hesse. "He refused in front
of the teacher tribunal and was neither intimidated nor subservient."
Herman Hesse's "Beneath The Wheel"
Hermann Heilner: Huggybear
Hans Giebenrath: Robert Pattinson
Emma: Emma Watson
Flaig: Anthony Hopkins
Father: David Strathairn
August: Bob Hoskins
Principal: F. Murray Abraham
Pastor: Ewan McGregor
Aunt: Glenn Close
Livy Professor: Kevin Klein
Journeyman: Christopher Plummer
Herman Hesse's "The Journey To The East"
HH: Huggybear
Leo: Dustin Hoffman
Speaker: Christopher Lee
Deserter: Collin Farrell
Longus: Julian Sands
Lukas: John Malkovich
September 5, 2013
Cebu City
I attended the first of a two-day seminar in the business
district across the Mandarin. Naturally I gravitated towards the big boys who
sit at the back and smoke during breaks. I already have lunch buddies: Nick and
Mart who both speak Tagalog; I'm getting to know the rest. It's fun: I had a
great time, met a lot of interesting people from different cultures and made
wisecracks where everybody laughed.
"Hi, I'm Johnny!" I said.
Short and sweet. I didn't tell them I'm a writer. I also didn't tell them I'm a
sex machine.
One of my Filipino classmates is
from General Santos, a major city in Mindanao famous for its tuna industry and
Manny Pacquiao. I find it really fascinating that he's one of the survivors of
the infamous Valentine's Day bombing in 2005 by the Abu Sayyaf terrorist
scums. The bomb went off just a couple of yards where he was. The stranger
between him and the blast died, deflecting the explosion.
"It's still not your
time," I told him, knowing how cliche it sounds. But when you come down to
it, is there any other way to explain why he's still alive after what happened?
Or for that matter, for anyone who survived a tragedy where a lot of people
didn't? I could go on and on but that's it.
"Life is like a rosary,"
goes a slumbook motto I remember from elementary school. Why? "Because
it's full of mystery!" I can't think of anything more corny. I can't think
of anything more true.
I'm reminded of the one story that
blows my mind no end. Once upon a time, a young man is walking in the
marketplace in Baghdad. He is shocked when he sees Death. So he runs to the
Caliph and pleads for the fastest horse so he could flee to Samarra. The Caliph
grants the request then goes to confront Death.
"Your Majesty, I didn't mean to frighten
the boy," explains Death. "I was just surprised that he's here. You
see, I'm supposed to take him at midnight in Samarra."
September 6, 2013
I got up at dawn with a couple of Six Sigma ideas which I'll
do this weekend as a personal project, none of which will rake in money but the
satisfaction is priceless and will last a lifetime.
"Is it really horny?" I
asked.
"Very detailed," she
assured me.
I was talking to one of my female
classmates yesterday about Fifty Shades of Gray by E. L. James. I haven't read
it yet but I have this idea that it's about sadomasochism. That's really
intriguing. We were at the pantry having some coffee before going home with The
Hunger Games on cable. She gave me a tip: follow this certain group in
Instagram who buys eBooks then shares it to everybody.
Also yesterday: Another classmate,
the girl in front of me, had her headphones on while we're waiting for the
teacher. I tried to guess what song. I came up with images of Edward and Bella
getting married.
"What are you listening
to?" I poked her.
"I Love The Way You Lie,"
she smiled. "Rihanna."
"Oh," I said,
crestfallen. "It's not A Thousand Years?" I know it's a stupid
question but I was getting desperate: That was my guess.
"No." She has a nice
smile.
"Well," I said, groping.
"Who's next?"
"Christina Perri."
A Thousand Years
Christina Perri
[Theme from The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part I]
"I have died everyday waiting for you,
darling don't be afraid I have loved you
for a thousand years.
I'll love you for a thousand more..."
It's normal to want to do something you haven't done yet.
It's natural to want to have something you don't have yet. I find it a bit
spooky that events seem to be fitting perfectly into the things I want for my
life. I need to do just a couple of things, simple things, so my life will be
even simpler. Streamlined. Lean and mean with meaning.
"If you're building a house,
the most important thing is the foundation," I said to a friend as we
chilled in Bo's Coffee after dinner. I like that installation art in the little
stage when they do Mass on weekends.
"Yeah," he agreed,
understanding the metaphor. He has plans, I have plans. Good things are coming
our way, and there's so much to look forward to.
Rain began to fall softly as I was
about to go home as my companion left. It's 9 at night as I stepped out of the
mall.
I went back inside and straight
into National Bookstore. I got just the book that mirrors everything tumbling
happily in my head.
"ThoughtStyle," is a
"highly developed sense of accountability, audacity, passion and responsibility,"
says Jerry Porras in Success Built To Last. There are 3 essential elements of
success: Meaning, Thought and Action. They should be in harmony. Desire and
plans without action are useless, and getting busy without meaning is a waste
of time. "ActionStyle" is the critical factor.
Utlimately, success is about taking
action. So just "get on moving and get on doing what you really care about
doing."
September 7, 2013
Banilad Cebu
I have a phobia from expecting too much from people. I now
only hope for just one thing: Fairness. I don't ask for loyalty because I would
soon be gone anyway. I'm content if people would always respect the dignity of
his fellowmen while I'm still here, making my way in this patch of earth under
the infinite sky.
"Hanggang sa dulo ng walang
hanggan, hanggang matapos ang kailanpaman..." I was in a small alley when
I heard the old familiar strain.
The music takes me to a hillside in
Batanes where I see the ocean reaching out into infinity. Then I'm back to the
present, with my senses heightened and everything around me more vivid as if
I'm seeing them for the first time.
"Until the farthest place of
eternity, until forever ends," is what the lines mean.
I found a small eatery in one of
the many interior neighborhoods I passed through. The radio was in a house
behind me with a dog chained beside the open door, wagging its tail. This song
is special to me. I like all those sung by Basil Valdez but this is different.
It's been played on the screen but when I hear it, the first person to enter my
mind is me.
It is a part of my life. This is a
song I call my own.
Hanggang Sa Dulo Ng Walang Hanggan
Basil Valdez
"Giliw kung sadya siya lang ang 'yong mahal,
asahan mong ako'y 'di hahadlang;
habang ikaw ay maligaya, ako'y maghihintay,
maging hanggang sa dulo ng walang hanggan..."
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