Running on empty and loving it! Mostly...

How I survived the last two full days of my life as a resident of Facundo Street, Pasay City, I have no idea. After leaving the Aznar family compound at 11:00 a.m. Thursday, I didn't get home until 36 hours later, grabbed 7 hours of recovery sleep, then headed to the airport for 14 hours worth of flying plus endless waiting around in airports.

If you don't want to know about my lousy Thursday morning, which has no photos, scroll down to the photo part. If you want some drama, or whininess (depending on your perspective) read on. It also explains some interesting things I learned about Manila's public transportation system.

I had made lunch plans to meet a friend of a Winnipeg friend, now living and working in Manila. This would be my only chance to meet up, for which I sacrificed a ride with my gracious host in his comfortable car to Carol's family resort, the far-away site of our band's wind-up party. My own stubbornness thought it would be a good idea to walk the 3.4 km to my lunch-friend's workplace in 30 degree heat at mid-morning. Armed with a mango shake, I arrived at the agreed meeting place a bit early and waited - and waited and waited for a good half hour. Finally I went inside and asked someone as to the whereabouts of my friend. A woman came over and said he had called in sick that morning and would not be in at all that day.

I was nearly in tears. I was sure I had messaged the ailing culprit my borrowed Philippine cell number several times but hadn't heard a peep and the phone was fully loaded. I assumed he was delirious to give him the benefit of a doubt - I was not far off - he messaged me two days later to apologize - he'd been quite seriously ill. Meantime, I was really put out. Hot and hungry, I now had to make my way to the middle of nowhere by some form of public transport, by myself. Normally, I wouldn't mind but I was really hungry and annoyed. I messaged Carol who sympathized and gave me instructions, reassuring that I could easily catch a bus to the far town near her resort anywhere along the main road. She was my voice of reason and my guardian angel at that moment - and I was so thankful to have a local cell phone!

Cranky and miserable, I forced myself to talk to a young man standing along the main road. As my grandmother always said, "The answer is on the tip of your tongue in the form of a question. All you need to do is to ask someone." Indeed, he said, a bus to where I was going would stop anywhere along the road - I just had to wave it over. So convenient - not like here where you have to wait forever at a particular bus stop.

When you get on the bus, instead of paying at the door, you take a seat, and a person eventually wanders back and collects money and hands out little tickets marked with where you are going. My fare came to only 51 php - really decent considering how far I was going. A tiny TV set hanging above the windshield was playing some kind of Filipino war movie and the speaker system was really good quality.

The man next to me noticed me studying my Manila street map as we got closer to Cavite and offered to let me know when to get off. Again, very helpful. I messaged Carol to let her know I had arrived as per her instructions and ducked into a Chowking to grab a bite, expecting to wait for a good half hour at least. I'd barely finished eating when Arnel, the resort's manager messaged me. They had already arrived! The resort wasn't as far as I had thought. AND I wasn't as late as I had thought.

Gazebos at the Resort.

Mr. P's favourite spot.

A peaceful place to be.

Arnel, Mr. P's right-hand-man.

So inviting. Ideas for my back yard!

Perfect place for a wind-up party.

Only a few members of the band had arrived when I got there. Alfie and family, Ramil and Pet had swum in the beautiful pool and were enjoying billiards and karaoke.

When Rain and his family arrived, he pulled out a file containing clippings of the band in its heyday that he had saved.

"When we were 20 years younger and 20 pounds lighter!"

Soon the others arrived with wives, children, and musical instruments. A drum kit started to assemble and oblong black cases started to pile up in the gazebo we were going to use. Joel was in the kitchen cooking up a storm - not for an Arabian prince this time, but for his friends.

Food fit for a prince.

After huge amounts of food was consumed, a hookah appeared from somewhere and the boys started to imitate Alice in Wonderland's Cheshire Cat, sly grins and all.

Everyone EXCEPT Bebet played the drums.

This was the only known moment that our drummer actually sat at the drums the whole evening!

Future drummer of Half Life Half Death: little Leila!

Carol proving she's MORE than just a pretty face and back-up singer!

Ramil the drummer - and bass player and guitarist and singer and video editor and.....oh never mind!

All the boys at one point drummed, played bass or guitar, all equally well, and Ramil even picked up my fiddle just for fun.

"eek!eek!eek!"

The music started as soon as Rain picked up his guitar and didn't stop until he put it down. It was as if he were taking full advantage of playing one last time with the whole group, savouring every precious moment.

Rain's natural appendage, also known as his heart and soul.

Now THIS is a party!

Out of the blue and as a complete surprise, Aldrin suddenly presented Alfie and I with an oil painting he had done especially for each of us. This journalist and extraordinary musician had also recently taken up painting. Alfie later inquired the titles from Aldrin who explained that Alfie's was called "A Dance for the Union of Two Moons" and mine was "How we ended as lovers." I was moved to tears.

Alfie and I with our beautiful gifts from our friend, artist, writer and musician Aldrin Cardona: "A Dance for the Union of Two Moons" for Alfie and "How We Ended as Lovers" for me.

And of course where there's one friend, there are many.

Our photographer friend, Omai (known as the silent member of the band) arrived as everyone was leaving just in time to scavenge some of Joel's amazing cooking. He presented me with two discs of photos - especially culled from his millions for me - and also gave me a gift from Bacalod, from where he'd just flown having been caught in the 6.8 earthquake! He'd been there on a photo shoot assignment and ended up in the middle of the excitement.

Omai's arrival heralded departure for Pet and I, since our friend was our ride to the next adventure, a hot air balloon festival in Pampanga. He drove us to his brother's house which was somewhere between the resort and Pasay City, and we slept for one whole hour. Then Pet - incredibly more awake than I - got us up with an alarm, what seemed like minutes after I dozed off. And off we went. More later...

Museum-ing and Jamming

Alors, ici je suis chez moi, presque un mois apres mon retour a Winnipeg, mais il semble que les PH sont le vrai "chez-moi." Je manque les gens qui sont sympathique et facile a vivre. Il y a beaucoup des detresses et beaucoup de la pauvrete, mais la pluspart des gens qui j'ai vu travaillent dur avec la force et l'espoir. Ils sont tres fier de leurs pays et d'etre "Pinoy." Even the symphony orchestra plays the national anthem before each performance and there's not even a president or dignitary in the house. In Winnipeg, the WSO only plays the vice-regal salute if the Lieutenant Governor shows up. Sorry Nico, I can't keep up the French at this late hour so you'll have to suffer through my even worse English!

I have to admit I was looking forward to cooler weather upon returning to Winnipeg since I'm really not used to waking up every day in 27 degrees celsius. Winter in Winnipeg has been quite mild since I got back, no colder than minus 18 degrees including wind chill, and plus 4 at the warmest, making skiing impossible.

Two Lake portage: back in my element.

After visiting Divisoria with Pet and Vic, I had three days left to try to accomplish everything. Unfortunately I'd run out of time to leave the city and go climb something and our wind-up party was Thursday, so I had to fill Wednesday somehow...museum-ing! I still hadn't got to the National Museum and Art Gallery so first thing mid-morning I walked to Libertad station and caught the LRT to the Central stop near Intramuros. Having surreptitiously studied my street map before hand, I made a beeline for the far end of Rizal Park that I'd visited with Pet 3 weeks earlier. From there I easily found the National Museum of the Philipino People.

I contemplated dropping the name of Joseph the curator, a friend of the curator at the Rizal Museum, but I thought, even though our friend had told us to ask for him, the admission was only 100 php, maybe $2.50. In Winnipeg, it costs around $10 to get in to a museum that is far better funded and in better repair. This place desperately needs the money. I bring this up because it was one thing that bothered me. Even the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra's conductor had gutsily posted online for all to see, a query as to how many people would show up to concerts if those who asked him for free tickets actually had to pay for them. This launched a flurry of discussion in which one person pointed out that those most able to afford concert tickets were also the best connected, which behooves them to ask their connections for favours. I couldn't do it.

So I enjoyed the museum such as it was. Some of the displays were amazing and really well-cared-for, but many were closed due to ongoing repairs. Other displays were incredibly out of date with yellowed signage from decades ago. Funding really would have helped but there we go again.

An exciting wooden carved thing of ancient significance that I neglected to write down because I was being mowed down by hoards of school children with cameras.

I know it was a weekday but the only people at the museum were school groups and maybe 4 or 5 other Korean or Chinese tourists. And me. The kids were hilarious to watch, though. They'd all take group photos of each other striking rock-star poses in front of ancient pots or other boring stuff as if they were having the time of their lives. Several times I got stuck in a line of high school boys, all with cameras flashing. It was kind of awkward.

Pots from the shipwrecked San Diego, sunk at battle Dec. 14, 1600.

Well, the boring pots represented a much more exciting history: the San Diego apparently was never built for battle - it was a merchant ship. But it was outfitted for war to try to fend off the Dutch for this particular battle between Spain and Amsterdam. Loaded down with guns taken from the fort - and intended for on-land firing, the ship was too heavy and its gun-holes were below the waterline. The Spanish couldn't fire them if they wanted to because they'd let the ocean waters into the hold of the ship. The whole thing was ridiculous. So the ship sank near Fortune Island, Nasugbu, Batangas, on December 14, 1600, and all the stuff on board ended up in the museum.

What is "Visible Storage" anyway? This room full of exciting artifacts was off limits to the public.

This photo of National Hero Jose Rizal at age 29 was on display at the Museum.  I couldn't resist: not only was he a brilliant doctor, writer, poet, novelist, a linguist who spoke 22 different languages, but he was also dashingly handsome!

It didn't take long to finish the National Museum, unfortunately. Next was the Art Gallery, located near City Hall, site of Dream Kitchen's award-nominated indie video, 16 Hours.

The Art Gallery, apparently once used as the Legislature building, was under construction - but you could still walk everywhere. The art was beautiful but sparse. There was a good range of classic, renowned Filipino artists, and modern day artists.

My notes are a mess but I think this is "Hall of Masters" by Felix Resurreccion Hidalgo. 

My notes say "Bulwagang Luna at Hidalgo" by Felix Resurreccion Hidalgo.  Unless this is Fernando C. Amorsolo, the National Artist. I am open to correction!

A hall of fascinating modern art.

This once hung in a public building and got so covered in grime it had to be restored.

Absolutely loved this wood carving. Kicking myself for not noting the artist or title.

Wandering through the galleries under construction I stumbled upon the former Senate Chambers....under construction.

Before this structure - or the political system - caved in on me, I escaped the beautiful but woefully crumbling building in search of Chowking and buchi, sticky rice balls covered in sesame seeds. We need Chowking in Winnipeg! Then a last stop at the bakery on Aurora Avenue for ensayadas and Spanish bread.

A last look at Aurora Avenue looking toward Facundo.

It being a Wednesday, we planned to head out to Gweilo's Bar in Makati to hear The Camerawalls perform. I had asked Clementine if it would be an imposition to bring my fiddle just in case there was a last opportunity to jam with the band and was delighted at his invitation. I spent many years practicing my violin alone in my living room and therefore jump at any opportunity to collaborate with musicians who would welcome a classical violin in their midst. It really was a treat to relax and listen to the band play for a tiny audience in the relaxing ambiance of Gweilo's.

aLfie, finally getting to relax instead of perform.

Clementine and drummer Joseph Rudica

Jamming with The Camerawalls. 

Clem invited aLfie and I to perform with him one of the more complicated and rarely-covered (so I understand) New Wave songs, The Pan Within by The Waterboys. The eLf spent a LOT of time drilling me on the violin part so we could perform it with precision for the big reunion concert on Feb 3rd. So I was both flattered and nervous when Clem asked specifically for this song. Here's how it ended up:

Friends in music: Bachie Rudica, Law Santiago, George Carillo, aLfie Mella, moi, et Clemen Castro. 

New friends say farewell.

So that was my third-last day in the Philippines. If I don't post soon about Thursday and Friday, Feb 9 & 10 (which basically rolled into one because I had one hour of sleep in a 30 hour period), somebody please kick me.

Volcanos and Divisoria

A Sunday outing with my friend Carol and her little girl Leila somehow ended up being a two-day epic trek up the Taal volcano with Carol's father, his right-hand man, and his driver. Strange things do happen in this world.

Taal Lake, Tagaytay City, Cavite Province

After resting all Saturday after the big concert, I was itching to get out somewhere and suggested to Carol that we meet up for coffee. She'd been saying I had to meet her daughters - the oldest had a violin and was already playing the piano and guitar on her own. I headed out by cab armed with a map but still had to fight with the driver who kept turning off the wrong way even when I told him it didn't look right. Next time I won't be so nice and trusting - I think he was deliberately going out of his way to ring up the fare especially at the end when I clearly told him to go straight and he turned early. Argh. 500P later I made it to Carol's door. We had lunch and visited with her girls a bit. The oldest had to study but we took the baby (age 2) and with the family driver, headed to Tagaytay city to see the view of the volcano.

When Carol said you could climb it, I got bad ideas...of course!!!

But for today we enjoyed our Starbucks and headed to Sonya's Garden, a renowned restaurant, and enjoyed an afternoon with little Leila. The garden was beautiful and beyond it was a quiet zone and complete spa.

It also said "no children" so we totally went there!

Carol almost insisted I take the time for a massage so...I did. But then it was too late to eat there and Leila was getting squirmy. We headed to Carol's family resort and in discussing the possibility of climbing the volcano, she suggested I just stay at the resort overnight and head back to Tagaytay the next day rather than return all the way to Pasay City.

So the next morning, still wearing the dress I had on the day before, I was ready for hiking up a volcano!

Initially I was to go in the company of Carol's nanny's son for guidance and protection, but then her father, the esteemed resort owner himself decided to join in on the outing, so next thing I knew, his driver and right-hand man were also included!

The resort staff already fed me breakfast and I was ready to go by 8am but then we waited for Mr. Pobre to join us. Then we stopped for breakfast for the gentlemen, and they ordered food from the restaurant for the climb, which joined more food that we'd bought at a market and also food prepared by the resort staff. When we found a boat rental place that was suitable, we ultimately forgot all the food in the trunk of the car. The boat ended up being 2000 including a horse for Mr. Pobre, who at an age somewhere north of 70, was not to be expected to walk uphill in the heat. Upon arrival, we were indeed harangued by local people selling hats, bandanas, clothing, and everything except iPads. Mr. P was quickly swept uphill on his mount, but Resty the driver, Arnel and I took our time enjoying the walk, the view, and the smoking yellow sulfur that remained visible in some spots - Taal is still a live volcano being studied by seismologists and apparently it exploded only 20 years ago. At the top we found a lake down in a crater that is inaccessible unless you are studying it, and the lovely beach is actually more smoking yellow sulfur.

Sulfur beach still smokin'.

Opportunists have set up shacks selling touristy t-shirts and buko juice (coconuts - cut off the top and stick in a straw - there's about a litre of the good stuff in there). Not sure how much - Mr. P insisted. Then you could ask them to split it open and they shave a sliver of the shell for you to scoop out the coconut meat. SO good!

I was able to wander a narrow grassy ridge away from the touristy shack and get a more wild look at the volcano crater but was soon closely followed by tourists in medical facemasks, some in long sleeved fleece shirts and high heeled designer shoes (so not kidding). I had forgotten a hat so I had bought a bandana for 40P which served as hat, facemask, and sweat towel.

Satisfied with the view, we headed down, Mr. P first, again beating us to the boat. The ride back was relaxing and cooling compared to the hot slope. Mr. P seemed to have had a good time and I thanked him most emphatically.

Then I caught a bus that went from Tagaytay all the way back to Pasay City's Baclaren LRT station - from there I jumped the LRT (12php) and walked home from Libertad, feeling very much a local. And desperately in need of a shower! But so happy to have had a hike with a view.

Today, Tuesday, I had another long day on my feet: Divisoria - the infamous Chinese market place where the goods are abundant and the prices rock bottom. Everyone buys everything from Divisoria and sells it at jacked up prices elsewhere. I finally got to see first hand why everyone was telling me before, "It's cheaper in Divisoria." I didn't bring my camera in case of pickpockets but needn't really have worried - I was guarding my purse like crazy the whole time and had pinned my pockets shut.

First thing was I walked to the Makati Greenbelt area from Pasay City. Starbuck's and a visit to the BPI. Then over to the Dusit Thanh hotel to await Vic and Pet. Await is the word. Traffic is the main cause of the expression "Philippino Time," I think. Pet was stuck so Vic picked me up and we circled until we saw the orange Quechua backpack indicating our French friend.

Then EDSA to Roxas in the large, airconditioned almost-Jeepney that Vic uses to transport large bolts of fabric and other masses of clothing-making products. It was a real treat to be led around Divisoria by someone really familiar with it. Otherwise I'd be so lost. It's a crazy, filthy, non-stop place of buying and selling. The streets are beyond filthy and there's a distinctive stench. The buildings are all post-war crumbles of rust and dirt with laundry and faded advertising hanging in tatters from every wall. The fabrics are amazing, though. I found some beautiful brocade for 70php a yard - right on the street. Vic knew a lot of the dealers personally and finally at the end of the day when we dodged into a jam-packed fabric warehouse beyond the imaginings of even Winnipeg's Mitchell Fabrics, the staff actually carried Vic's purchases all the way back to the car. It's prom dress season so he's working on a collection of fancy formal dresses that need to be done by April.

Electronics, food, clothing, shoes, umbrellas, everything you could imagine, sell for less at Divisoria. You just have to have the nuts to venture there.

I think I'm out-shopped for now! Three full days left...not ready to go home yet!

Music and Memories

And the band played on...and on and on! What a great night! We had prepared two encores but played two more that we hadn't even practiced after last night's amazing concert at Club Phi. It was Half Life Half Death's reunion concert after 15 years or so. A group of high school classmates who loved New Wave music used to spike their hair and wander around their conservative Catholic high school with drum sticks in their back pockets - even though they didn't play the drums - and ended up fairly successful with one recorded album as college students. Then they got haircuts and real jobs, but never stopped making music. After frontman Alfie Mella left for the frozen prairies of Manitoba, Canada, Rain Paggao, the phenomenal guitar player with magic fingers, continued to play in a band called The Rain, and bassist Ramil Aznar formed Dream Kitchen, a fairly successful indie band - with other Half Lifers, Joel Reyes, Aldrin Cardona, and Gilbert (Bebet) Tiongson.

The different faces of Half Life Half Death: from left, Ramil Aznar, Carol Pobre, Rain Paggao, Joeyl Reyes, Christine Mazur, Coy Sta. Agueda; front: Rupert De Jesus, Alfie Mella. Missing: Aldrin Cardona & John-John, percussionist and Gilbert "Bebet" Tiongson, drummer.

Thursday was our last rehearsal and last chance to work out any kinks. Infinitif Studios is a great place with fans and airconditioners blasting away the Manila swelter. There's always lots of us in a room since we clock in at about 9 musicians on stage at a time, sometimes 11 with everyone. There was tension and nervous anticipation in everyone's face and some excessive goofing around but we held together without a pre-performance blow-out. After practice Ramil and Lovelle treated Alfie and I to Dim-Sum - we were starving!

Friday morning we slept in so there wasn't a lot of time before the 3pm sound check. I had to find 9-volt batteries for my DI box which up to this point had not worked properly. Blank stares met me everywhere along Pasay Road until I got to Pure Gold, the department store across from the Libertad LRT station. Of course, 3rd floor hardware. Also had found extra A-strings the other day at Lyric Music in a Mall called something like Power Plant where Inna met her high school friend for lunch.

We had the idea to rent a hotel room as a green room for the band and luckily found a room at the Holiday Inn Crown Plaza - a discount got it for us for 5000 php - a lot but a great thing to have to rest and wash up in before the gig. Sound check was really good - a rarity and luxury when there's other bands also playing - and we had three opening acts! But we did get in a nice long sound check from about 4pm to 6pm and got to run through about 4 or 5 songs, especially the epic Radio Madness, which featured bot classical moments and an intense metal guitar solo from Rain.

Sound check at Club Phi with Aldrin and Carol.

Have Fiddle will Travel at Club Phi.

Rain and Joel soundchecking with Coy on drums.

Ready to Rock and Roll.

When we arrived, The Gentle Isolation was playing - we had already missed Your Imaginary Friends. The Camerawalls followed so we got to see Clementine with his whole band this time after having a preview on Wednesday when Rain, Alfie and I played an acoustic set at Gwielo's.

The Camerawalls in action 

Me with Clem Castro from the Camerawalls

Nerves fell to the wayside when it was time to hit the stage. Everyone was so focussed: performing is definitely hard work and you need to really be on your toes to deliver a good product. I still panicked before the songs I wasn't familiar with and didn't know what to play for "If All Sleep Tonight" until Alfie looked at me and conducted me in. Then memory hit: "oh THAT" and my fingers worked. The Pan Within by the Waterboys is a very difficult song that - according to Alfie, is not covered by a lot of New Wave bands so when we played it I needed to really nail the violin parts. Here's the version we were striving for:

Monx Moncayo, one of the producers from Requiem Rising of Singapore asked me, "When are you coming back to the Philippines?" No one had asked me that yet - everyone's asking when do I leave. He explained: "I produce shows every two months in Singapore and I want you to perform at one of them." Also, Clem asked if I could return or at least collaborate with him on some recording projects in the future. While this project was a reunion and an ending for some, it's a beginning for me! Many new friends made and more adventures to be had.