A Thousand Summers 3

Saturday Evening Posts

January 24-30 Edition

A Thousand Summers 3

Happily, I got a four-day vacation near end November: two days off because it was Thanksgiving in the U.S. and weekends are our fixed rest days.

          My first stop was Manila. I circled Luneta Park from the National Library to Instituto Cervantes, both in Kalaw. I saw a lot of young students in different groups practising for their stage presentations in and around the towering Lapu-Lapu statue. I love children. It's always a joy seeing them in action - so full of innocence and enthusiasm for living.

             

          The next day, I was in Batangas City. Ostensibly, I was paying some debts but I, hands down, chose to make the trip instead of sending it via money transfer.

          I basked in the relative tranquility of the tree-covered courtyard of the old church. It was amazing to see all those sculptures and Masonic symbols

             

          Next stop was Lucena City. I like the people there in the same way that I like the folks of Santa Rosa, Laguna when I lived there in 1992. But I now avoid saying "The natives are friendly since I realized it's condescending. The fun part of Lucena is the plaza full of jam-packed food stalls in front of the provincial capitol. And the most intriguing is Benco, the old-fashioned stand-alone movie theater.

          It transported me back to another place just like it, also showing two bold films for the price of one. That was in Zapote some time ago. I was playing hooky from another high school I went into, in Las Piñas. I was 13 years old. A stranger sat beside me. We were the only ones in that row. His hand gently fondled my knee. My heart pounding nervously, I felt his fingers beginning to caress my thigh...

             

            My next destination is Mount Banahaw. Before I got surrounded by communist rebels in Tiaong, I had almost died in Sariaya: our overspeeding bus almost overturned after skidding off the dirt road beside the Maharlika Highway.

            In some of my previous lives, I believe I had died as a samurai who committed seppuku on Fuji and as an Incan shaman on a vision quest in the Andes. So as far as magic mountains go, for thousands of years, things have remained relatively the same.