Restroom for Bading

I spent my worthwhile weekend in a secluded beach resort somewhere down south of Leyte. It is at the most tip of the Leyte island and bathed by the blue open ocean so that big waves smash into enticing surf to the black sandy shore. There are also huge rock formations that display artistic boulders I almost indulged a raw rock climb if not for the risk of being hit by the waves.






I stayed at Kuting Reef Beach Resort. The resort is ultimately the best place to sojourn to in Southern Leyte if you need to relax and run away from the hurly-burly of a cosmopolitan life. Private casitas for romantic accomodations and cabanas designed for barkadas or families of almost impeccable choice of interior are nestled amidst the coco grove. A huge “quiet zone” signboard makes the cogon-roofed resting abodes a sacred mecca where no one makes unnecessary noise but the symphony of coconut leaves dancing to whistle of the sea breeze and boisterous waves.





The resort can very well compete with Tambuli in Cebu. And I would not retract that.

I also adore the boardwalk that almost resembles the coffee shops in the streets of Paris, cozy and romantic at dusk.


I was also personally enthralled when I checked the clean and fragrant restrooms in the resto and discovered that between the restrooms for the women and men lies another separate restroom which was marked “Bading”.

I could have not mistaken it for a storage room labelled as such. I knew it was a restroom alright. And it was dramatically situated between the usual restrooms I would find in resorts and hotels. I was struck laughingly. And I thought it was politically appropriate.

Intrigued as I was, I asked the receptionist as to why did the resort came up with the wild idea of building a separate restroom for the pink patrons. She divulged promptly “ Kasi Sir madami kaming mga bading na clients lalo na ung mga galing sa Japan.” I knew she was referring to our transexual Pinoy entertainers in Japan who had undergone sex organ transplant and might need enough room for their very personal restroom rituals of some sort. Apparently, there are plenty of whom in the Bisayan speaking parts of the island province of Leyte.

Collectively, I admire the resort for its beautiful landscape and homey casitas and cabanas and its aspiration to become a paradise for the weary urban warrior who needs tranquillity for the soul and I think it is a promising tourism destination down south. I also commend the courteous and polite servers and room attendants who are always equipped with answers to every question and need of the clients, not to mention their sunny-warm smiles to which Waraynons are known for.

Above all, I personally salute the think-tank behind the “Bading” restroom. For whatever it is worthy of, I believe the Kuting Reef should be very well lauded for its sensitivity to particularly cater to the third-sex and make sense without being discriminating at all.




*visit the website kuting-reef.com for more pictures

'sang pares ng tsinelas

Noong kabataan ko, nauso ang tsinelas na gawa sa alpombra. Ito yung tsinelas na parang mabalahibo at parang velvet yung material na ginamit sa paggawa kaya masarap at malambot sa paa. Ewan ko kung sadyang ganun ang design ng tsinelas na alpombra pero di ko ma-ekspleka sa sarili ko kung bakit ganun ang design nya. Ito yung tipong ok lang magkapalit ang kaliwa at kanan na pares kasi nga pareho lang ang design at hitsura. Hindi tulad ng karaniwang sapin sa paa – bakya, sapatos, sandalyas at iba pang uri ng tsinelas kung saan alam mo kung alin ang para sa kaliwang paa at kanang paa. Ang sa alpombra, hindi. Pwede mong pagpalit-palitin ng gamit at hindi mo mararamdaman ang pagkakaiba.



At dahil nakahiligan kong suotin ang mga tsinelas na hindi sakin at mas malaki pa sa sukat ng paa ko, minsan nakakapagsuot ako ng alpombrang tsinelas ng mga pinsan ko. Gusto ko kasi yung feeling na mabigat ang sapin sa paa. Parang musika sa tenga ko ang mayabang na ingay ng mga yabag sa sahig gawa ng alpombra sa tuwing ako’y maglalakad.



Sa panahon naman ng aking pagsibol sa kabataan, nauso ang makabagong uri ng tsinelas na tinawag na jelly flip flops. Ito yung may mga matitingkad na kulay ng pastel at may banayad na lambot sa paa. Dito na nauso ang paggamit ng tsinelas sa pagsisimba at pamamasyal sa mall.



Dumating ang impluwensyang Latino sa Pilipinas at napasok ang havaianas flip-flops. Unang sinuot ito sa harap ng telebisyon ni Bamboo habang tumutugtog sa isang concert. Si Heart Evangelista naman, dating Vj ng MYX, ay panatiko na rin ng havainas noong panahong yun.



Gahol sa oras mula sa isang taping, napilitan syang mag-tape ng live sa MYX habang nakasuot ng lace spaghetti strap dress na diumano’y pantulog nya at ng havainas. Dahil wala ng panahon para mag-ayos ng at magpalit, tuoly lang ang live shoot. Dito sumikat ang paggamit ng tsinelas bilang pamalit sa sapatos bilang bagong dagdag sa fashion style ng kabataang Pinoy. Naging malakas ang impluwensya ng Brazilian product na ito na parehong mga estudyante at yuppies ang gumagamit sa mga lakaran at sa araw-araw na gawain , liban na lang sa mga pormal na okasyon.




Sino ba naman ang hindi mahuhumaling sa tsinelas. Ako man ay may apat na pares ng tsinelas na pambahay. Kung praktikalidad lang ang pag-uusapan, panalo na ito. Ito ay madaling isuot at presko sa paa at madaling ibagay sa maraming klase ng damit.




Pero iba ang turing ng namayapang lolo ko sa tsinelas. Nang mauso daw ang tsinelas ng kapanahunan nya ay laking biyaya daw ito kumpara sa hirap at bigat ng bakyang noo’y nasa kasikatan pa. Ngunit para sa kanya, ang tsinelas raw ay para sa bahay lamang. At hindi ito nararapat isuot kung lalabas ng bahay dahil ang mga lakaran sa labas ng bahay ay tungkulin na ng sapatos, o kahit ng mga sandalyas man lang. Espesyal daw kasi ang dulot sa mga pagal na paa ng tsinelas.




Dagdag pa ng lolo ko, ang pag-ibig daw ay parang ganun. Parang isang malambot na pares ng tsinelas sa bahay. Oo nga at ito ay pambahay lang ngunit ito ang pinakaunang hinahanap pag-uwi mo sa bahay upang magbigay ng ibang uri ng ginhawa sa paa.



Ang tsinelas tulad din ng taong tunay mong minamahal ay naghihintay lang sa bahay. Ngunit gaano man kapayak o kasalimuot ang mga pangyayari sa buong araw mo, gaano man kagaganda, kagagwapo o kahali-halina ng mga taong nakilala mo, iisa at iisa lang ang pilit mong uuwian at hahanap-hanapin pag-uwi mo.



Ang pag-ibig habang tumatagal, lalong lumalalim at pinagtitibay ng panahon. Tulad ng ‘sang pares ng tsinelas, habang ginagamit, lalong lumalambot, lalong nagiging maginhawa sa paa.



Ang pagmamahal sa isang tao, sa pagdaan ng panahon ay nagiging isang pamilyar na emosyon na kayang matukoy mula sa iba pang pakiramdam ng tao – galit, pagkamuhi, lungkot, saya’t tuwa, ligaya o maging ng karaniwang libog lang. Tulad ng ‘sang pares ng tsinelas, sa pagdaan ng mga araw at gabi, linggo’t buwan, o maging ng taon ay nagiging isang pamilyar na bahagi na ito ng paa. May kakaibang hagod sa balat at alam ng nagmamay-ari ang pakiramdam ng kanyang tsinelas. Alam nya ang malakutson o magaspang na mga bahagi ng tsinelas nya, ipikit man ang kanyang mga mata. Maging sa dilim.



Mahalo man ang kanyang pares ng tsinelas sa isang kumpol ng mga tsinelas, o mahiwalay ang isang bahagi, alam nya kung saan ito hahanapin ng walang pag-aalala. Tulad ng tunay at dalisay na pag-ibig, babalik at babalik ito sa tunay na kasuyong puso.




Iba-iba man ang turing na bawat tao sa kung anumang uri ng tsinelas ang susuotin nya, tanging sya lang ang may alam kung alin ang magbibigay sa kanya ng kakaibang ginhawa sa paa mula sa buong araw na pagkakabilanggo sa sapatos.



At pag nagkataon, kapag nahanap mo na ang pares ng tsinelas na para sa’yo, wala ng dahilan upang maglakad ng nakayapak sa malamig na sahig. Wala ng rason upang manghiram sa iba. Wala na.

alin?

Likas sa tao ang pagpili. Kasama na dito ang pamimili ng kung anumang higit na mas magaan o mas magbibigay saya o mapagkukunan ng lakas na mga bagay, lunan o tao, personal man na kilala o hindi.



Minsan sa buhay mo, hindi mo man gustuhin o kahit sabihin mo pa man na dahil matalino ka kung kaya’t hindi mo na alintana ang mga kaakibat na suliranin dala ng pamimili, natatapat ka sa pintuan ng mga pagkakataon at panahon na gaano man kahirap sa loob-loob mo o kasakit sa iyong natitirang ego, kailangan talagang mamili ka dahil yun at yun lang ang pinaka-una at pinaka epektibong paraan sa paglaya.



Minsan kahit simpleng tanong lang at siyempre simpleng sagot lang ang kailangan ay doon pa tayo nabobobo.



Alin ang mas masakit : ang magmahal ng taong alam mong may mahal na iba o ang umasang balang-araw, suntok man sa buwan tingnan, ay mamahalin ka rin nya? Di man sa paraang inaasahan at pinakaaasam mo, at least sa paraang alam at kaya lang ng inirog mo.



Alin ang mas matimbang: ang sabihing mahalaga ang isang tao sa’yo dahil yun ang tama o ang sabihing mahal mo ang isang tao dahil yun ang totoo?



Alin ang mas madali: ang mahalin ang taong mahal mo ngunit alam mong hindi ka mahal o ang taong hindi mo kayang mahalin ngunit mahal na mahal ka?



Alin ang mas may kabuluhan: ang kasalukuyang relasyon na umabot na ng halos limang taong puno ng away-bati at ng mga gabing ayaw kang patulugin dahil naninimbang ka kung mahal ka ba talaga nya tulad ng mga malamlam nyang mga pangako o ang masilakbong pag-ibig na tumubo lang sa talulot ng bulaklak ng bagong natagpuang pagkakaibigan?



Alin?

"From The Apple Of Your Eyes"

My family moved from the country to seek better fortune in the city back in 1985. I was 5 years old then. And until now, it is still customary for my family to watch the Pintados Festival Parade during the city fiesta come end of June. Though in my growing up years, I have chosen a rather boisterous and free – spirited company to watch the parade with now that I am old enough to verbalize my choices with friends, issues to argue about and even acting out my very personal endeavors. Just like my fancied adolescent years in the city, the Pintados Festival would always showcase the best that the region could offer championing the historic and colorful culture and its humble beginnings. It keeps getting grandiose and much more festive every year, thus, tourists both foreign and local alike would grace the festival with beautiful words of review to bring home.

Indelible sights and sounds had been documented to my memory as to how the slow but precise paces of development had changed the city by the bay through the years. Tacloban does not tail behind the queue of national candidates for urban progress. And the leaders who sat the local government seats could only profess to have done so much good for the city and for its people caught in the limbo called urban poor.

There used to be a slum community surrounding DYVL radio station called Rimas Colon. I had elementary grade classmates who used to live there. And following the layman’s definition of a slum area as a place of none- permanent settlers with no valid address, let alone a sane system of human waste disposal then at least I will not be vindicated of being unpragmatic about my choices of words. I could very well describe a slum area coz I used to live in one too. And there was also a Muslim mosque amidst the small houses and humbled shanties where our Muslim brothers, who have settled to Tacloban City, worship their own divinity. Perhaps, just like my family, they also sought for a better life in the city.

Exactly two years ago, that area was cleared out to make way for an amusement venue for the local folks. And as far as the comprehensive plans of the city is concerned, a baywalk park will be built along the serene Cancabato bay line in such a way that a walk from Balyuan Tower, now towerless, to the recently opened Tacloban Convention Center will become a leisurely saunter. Only the radio station remained when the families were moved to a resettlement area at the city outskirts.

The erstwhile mayoral administration of Bejo Romualdez was bombarded with repercussions from the local media men and self-confessed political analysts (READ: mga paragsuson) alike before there was a clean and spacious bus terminal along Maharlika Highway and an efficient shuttle service from the terminal to the heart of the city courtesy of these neon green multicabs ; a two- storey public market reviewed as less – unhygienic, at least, compared to the former; a beautified Rizal Park and the proud Tacloban Convention Center, a first of its kind in the city and will soon become a landmark in the region. In its effect, new establishments and commercial buildings started to mushroom. The thrive of the student populace from all over the region to the city colleges and universities became evident. The same administration saw the realization of a privatized solid waste management and the more systematic electric cooperative thus resulted to well- lit streets, highways and main thoroughfares secured from unwanted menace. The community folks also became up and about with the community- based medical, dental and social services in a mobile operation called barangayan and still many other city ordinances that aimed to promote the welfare of the happy Taclobanons.

During this year’s festival parade, floats of private establishments and some government offices also joined the busy streets merrymaking. The FM Romualdez convoy of high-end cars and buses, while the infamous former campaign jingle was playing in the air, were donned in colorful tarpaulins bearing the Congressman’s wide-smiled face greeting “Happy Fiesta Taclobanon… from the apple of your eyes, Cong. FM Romualdez and Family.” The convoy drew more attention as the hired men threw away Fuji apples to the parade spectators. But of course, who would not be delighted to such unique freebies. It was a rather much favored gimmick from the usual flyers and leaflets and or candies thrown away from the float as goodies during the parade. Well, sardines are also a treat in the previous years.

Far from the maddening crowd, I couldn’t help but notice the group of people busily and frantically following the solon’s float for the closer chance of catching the apples it almost resembled that of the zealots during the Feast of the Black Nazarene. Among them was this forty-something man whom I particularly kept my fancy with. His worn-out slippers revealed his cracked and calloused heels that might have told me his meager job requires rigorous walking every single day. He wore a stained white sando and a pair of faded corduroy pants and a knap-sack in his back bulging with apples he had literally won in the catching match over the others. His wrists were adorned with colored rubber bracelets, another fad freebies given during the previous election campaign. Etched in the rubber bracelets were names of now elected senators and a certain partylist. He kept a perfect proximity from the float like a hungry hound, toungue- out panting, waiting for a tender piece of meat.

Such sarcasm. It tore my idealistic heart to see the common tao, whose mandate to elect his leaders to the highest form of government is as sacred as the Constitution, begged for apples like alms and cursed the man atop the float every time an apple failed the grip of his soiled sweaty hands. Such irony knowing the fact that the sanctity of one man’s vote was peddled for 200 Php one fateful night before the election day. Likened to a cautious thief through the night, he waited for midnight to fall and thus received the cold cash discreetly from the disclosed precinct leaders of the Apple Man and other characters of Ninja Turtles and even from members of the uncanny X-men. Rates are varied depending on the source. But I was inclined to believe then that rates were pre-determined to equate the amount of his basic human right. I cried in silence.

I abhorred the idea as to how the men atop the float played sarcastically with the crowds’ taking chances with the imported fruit. Taclobanons do not grow apple trees in their backyards, and the fact that money is hard to come by these days, why would they not just grab their chances right there and then.

To many, it was part of the merrymaking because it was the city fiesta after all. To some idealistic few, it was a mockery full of taunting to the preceding floats of the Department of Tourism promoting the rich and unique culture of the region, including the ways of its diversified people, whether they had apples on their hands or none. To that man of my fancy, whose unwavering gusto was remarkable, his story was one I knew of so well.

Perhaps, he had 12 children and the apples in his swollen bag would not suffice just yet so that he was following the mob faithfully for more. Perhaps, it was his self-proclaimed day-off from his blue collared job and took full advantage of the idea of selling the catch for his family’s meal for the day. Perhaps, it was his own understanding of the Romualdezes gratefulness for having been elected to the office again, because he was one of those who voted for them. Or perhaps, there were unfathomed reasons I for one may never fully understand.

If that picture depicted a thousand of stories, then here is one: that man who sold his vote obliviously is the same man who owned the knapsack full of apples. Such a preposterous fate for a man who had the power to select his leaders he could have hoped for to bring him to a productive society.

If the government would only be truly sincere about eradicating poverty and carrying out instead the people’s best interest, then perhaps no ethnic minorities would settle from city to city to seek for a pasture that rightfully belongs to them. Perhaps no families would leave the countryside to seek opportunities in the densely populated sub-urban. Perhaps no man will swallow his pride and mock his own self with an apple without actually knowing it.

02 july 2007
* This article was written following the Pintados-Kasadyaan Parade of 2007, the first city fiesta after the 2007 National Election.