LPDR stands for Laos People’s Democratic Republic. But to me, I learned during the duration of my stay, it meant: (you’re in) Lao, please don’t rush.

There’s really no need to - there are no traffic jams to avoid, people are always so calm and steady you’d feel the urge, the need even, to blend in. Most importantly, so much beauty abounds and the est way to take it all in is making tiny strides and taking your own sweet time. 

And sometimes, there’s no way to. ;) It would be next to impossible to spot a race car and express trains have yet to be introduced to their public transportation system. The most common means of backpacking transport is by spending hours on a bus slowly, but carefully, making its way through the mountainous terrain of the region. The long and winding trip however can be blissfully rewarding. (as in the way to Luang Prabang)

Lao women wearing shirts over the traditional ‘phaasi’ in the simplest and sometimes sweetest way to travel - walking

Majestic stopovers such as this make prolonged periods of travel more bearable 

The Lao are so laid-back and personally, so lovable. 

For 600 years, the Laos/ Laoitians have looked up to a king. It dates back to when the country was a vassal state to the Khmers of Cambodia, to when it was subject to French colonialism and to when it became the most bombed country in World War II. Finally, in the 1970s, the King decided to hand his power to Communist leaders if only to save the country. 

It’s almost inconceivable how a people who have been been through much drastic change and seemingly neverending transition can still remain and exude a calm and steady disposition. But that’s exactly what they endured and how they do it. Maybe because Buddhism is the predominant religion and they have all mastered the art of zen. Maybe because living in high altitudes and misty mountains have given them an almost permanent natural high. Or maybe that’s just how they’re built, who they are. :) 

For certain though, it’s highly contagious. And only the stiffest, most callous person, would not be able to live and love the laid-back Lao way of life.

Young monks atop a tree, the perfect blend of a spiritual and cool personality

Luang Prabang: So lovely you have to see it with your own eyes, so serene you have to experience it first-hand.

Having my gluteal muscles glued to a seat for over 20 hours, skipping out (not by choice) on a proper bath for almost 2 days, popping a Phenergan and waking up to the end of its course, asking myself and sometimes the driver “Are we there yet?” over 3 times to be met with a No – Luang Prabang was all worth it. As an intrepid traveler, I understand the truth “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey that matters.” Fortunately for June and I, our in-transits and our stops, were equally memorable.  

There was something mysterious, somewhat inexplicable, about Luang Prabang’s beauty. Perhaps it was the mist and that gush of cool air that greeted the town in the morning. Part of it was the undeniable charm of a town that made you think you were in France at one turn, then in the next, you’re right back in Asia. In almost every major street, there were wats with roofs of gold rather than red. A fusion of native wooden houses and buildings with trademark French/ European architecture filled the town. The smaller alleyways were lined with inns, homestays, and homes. Meanwhile, more prominent landmarks like the former royal palace turned national museum, the oldest monastery and the entrance to the temple on a hill.

The majestic temple atop Phou Si also offers a panoramic view of Luang Prabang

A mist shrouds the magnificent Mekong, provider of water and power to 6 different countries including Laos.

A tranquil kind of wonder continued to the afternoon while biking along the waterfront and waiting for the sun to set over the wide and mighty Mekong river. Numerous cafes and restaurants dot the long stretch of the avenue so I simply just had to pick a spot, order a beer Lao and hold audience to one of nature’s most beautiful shows.  

Yonder town, adventure and wonder await.

Trekking along the rice fields, past the local Hmong villages, then through the muddy jungle and finally to the waterfall was an incredible experience. Kayaking adventures to the Pak Ou caves and natural habitats of elephants and or biking expeditions to the hilltribes in the highlands are also offered through tour groups. I highly recommend the trails and tours company called Fair trek, promoting responsible tourism while giving back to the local communities.

A little Hmong boy breaking language and cultural barriers with the most powerful gesture - a smile 

The falls of Kwang Si are a must see!

Fast forward to nighttime, while Luang Prabang is more for the types who prefer to relax rather than to rave out and party, or at least in my opinion, there are still a few establishments that offer that kind of kick.A highly possibly correct hypothesis to why this is – no all-nighter kind of party places – is the fact that every day, before the sun even starts rising, young monks in bright orange sarongs walk along the main avenue as part of one the most traditional and sacred ceremonies in Lao culture. As part of their vow to live ascetically, they beg for alms, usually in the form of rice, which serve as their food for the remainder of the day.

The Lao value two things the most – religion and family. Their devotion and the happiness they derive from emphasis on these two tenets are so transparent and consistent, I couldn’t help but admiring them even more.

During my stay, I encountered expressions written on menus, on signboards and even on a doormat. I noticed that several of these shared a common word – chai. Through one of the locals, I learned that a lot of their expressions are intertwined with a sense of heart or chai. Some of my favorites include:

Khao chai – to understand is to enter the heart

Hen chai – to have empathy is to see the heart

Lai jai – to hesitate is to have too many hearts

Chai khart – to die is to have your heart torn apart

One of the expressions seemed cut short or missing the predicate part that I initially thought there was a printing error: souk chai – to be happy…

It was then that I understood one of the most beautiful realizations. It too provided an explanation as to why the Lao people are the way they are. Having a heart is enough reason for happiness; A heart is essentially happy.

For further details and helpful links on this trip:

( I will post a separate entry for this matter. Still working on it! ;p )

“When all else fails, I’ll still have my North star.”

On a gridded piece of paper, at coordinates parallel with my name, two OFFs sat beside each other. I figured this to be an auspicious sign. Finally a chance to pack my bags and leave town!

Without company, without arrangement, actually devoid of a plan other than ‘surf somewhere I’ve never been to’, I made my way to the bus station and hopped on the next trip.

After depositing half of my payment for my small hut, I circled the environs for surf board rentals, cafes, restaurants and other things I needed. After a long and relaxing walk, I returned to my place and was greeted by the image of a half-naked dude, complete with a ray of sunlight cascading down his well-tanned and well-proportioned body, fumbling with my door. It felt like a scene straight out of Desperate Housewives except I wasn’t married to a millionaire nor did I have perfectly sculpted whatevers. 

Much later, while enjoying my coffee and “Guns, Germs and Steel,” he introduced himself to me. Turns out he was the son of my “landlady,” who happened to be divorced and was renting out two huts as a source of income. Oh and his name was Frank, like my dad. He is a 20 year old asthmatic surfer (for half his life) and engineering student. 

The next day I met Frank’s father, Captain Glenn, a man of overflowing knowledge and love that he finished three degrees and was married twice, maybe even almost thrice. First he studied to be a doctor then moved on to becoming an engineer. Shortly after obtaining his license, he returned to school and graduated a business major. Fast forward to today, combining all of that and putting it to practical use, he is involved in assessing and selling medical equipment. However, that just happens on the side. Mostly, he takes charge of sailing a boat for one of his more financially endowed friend and business partner. (His biggest feat- for his first honeymoon, he sailed around the world with his wife.)

All this storytelling happened while I was, again just quietly, going about my own business at the veranda and he was waiting for his son. 

More often than every fortnight, when the sun sets and the moon takes over reign of the sky, almost instantaneously, a 60-something man with permanently blushed skin and thinning white hair, would walk towards a certain spot and wait. 

It’s his way of bonding with Frank, he explained. It was a much simpler way compared to what they experienced together last summer - traveling by boat from Phuket, Thailand to Palawan, the Philippines for 2 straight months. And! through celestial navigation. No fancy machines. No GPS. Just some astronomical and nautical maps and a sextant. Not that they couldnt afford or didnt have the equipment. Captain Glenn just missed doing it the old-fashioned way. In the process, Frank learned how to navigate the seas with only the stars to guide him. 

The captain had a home in America and somewhere in Europe. Way past the age of retirement, he could return to his homeland, or live anywhere in the world with his wide network and financial capability. He could live more conveniently and less sweat-ily.  

I’d like to believe that the longer we gaze at a star, the brighter it shines (or the brighter it seems to shine) and the more we know it. 

Perhaps, the captain shares my perspective. Perhaps he’s giving as much light as he can to his beloved boy while hoping to learn as much and fostering that sense of familiarity that is reminiscent of home. 

Why he preferred celestial navigation and why he remains here. The answer to that is one and the same thing - he followed his Polaris. The brightest star in our sky, the one we love the most. And that one star that soothes every weary sailor’s soul and reminds him that hope is here and home is near.

“And still, after all this time, the Sun has never said to the Earth,
“You owe me.”
Look what happens with love like that.
It lights up the sky.” 
― Rumi

The frail sets sail

The boat is about to set sail soon

It will be crossing unchartered waters in hopes of meeting a truce, affirming a treaty

And perhaps, in hopes of a sailor’s heart drifting to find another home

Sometimes time stretches, things drag on

And you find yourself praying for the wind to blow a little bit stronger

Then, sometimes, it happens so fast, too swiftly

So fast

That without proof, without substantiation, it seems as if things had never transpired or you were never really there

Memory used to be a valiant servant

But with so many stimuli, so much change, the mind may fail

And memories as they are oft interred, would suffer the same fate as those of folklore

Either altered beyond recognition or forgotten altogether

So touch a soul when you can, carve an experience wherever you can

However terse, write it down; however uncanny, take a photo

Or have someone or something irrevocably leave an imprint in you

Because when you look back, no matter how distant the shore, you’d want to remember who and what happened

And not being able to, when all might is exerted to recall, is excruciating

It’s finally happening.

The champagne bottle is about to be smashed over the bow

Winds of change are blowing over the sails

And while I welcome a more hopeful tomorrow, I hope never to forget what happened today and  yesterday

collective-history:

A man waves to his relatives on the other side of the Berlin Wall, August 1967. 

the things that i am good at.  one can say it is because of practice. i disagree. practice is a by-product of passion.  when you do something you enjoy, all these different hormones take over your very being and it unlocks something very primal, almost instinctive.  without any focus, reacting without thinking. simply just doing and living for those moments. you may say it’s crazy, but aren’t we all a little crazy?

ISOLATION. 

Marie Curie so profoundly explained its importance in the way she best could and likened people to a glass vessel. She said, “A glass vessel containing radium spontaneously charges itself with electricity. If  the glass has a weak spot, for example, if it is scratched by a file, an electric spark is produced at that point. The vessel crumbles like a Leiden jar when overcharged, and the electric shock of the rupture is felt by the fingers holding the glass.”

We are all powerful and capable of empowering ourselves and mending our weak spots. 

Optimum performance is demonstrated when we are at our best states. Conversely, we do poorly when we have spots that still need fixing. 

When we execute before we are ready (by having proven our stability over time), we just end up hurting those whom we come in contact with. 

Therefore if you want to keep to yourself, remain in isolation - it’s a good thing.

The film prodigy

When you want it, you speak up, you do something. When you want it, you fight for it.

He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt tucked under well-fitted slacks and finished with a brown leather belt.  And when I looked at him, I thought to myself, he has got to be the tallest person I know. Figuratively. And then a feeling of pride surged through me and the surprised look on my face (because I had never seen him so put-together) turned into a smile.

The look suited him too. I can already picture him standing up to claim an award for a film he made or an advertisement he directed. He would stand tall, like he always does. Hopefully though he wouldn’t hold his chin up too high - old habit that  I keep telling him to mend. But I guess when you’ve done things your way, not necessarily the best or most accepted way, but YOUR way, you can’t help holding your chin up high. 

Nikko was sent to a terrific elementary school. In my opinion, it was the best school in the Metro; I graduated there haha. However, he knew it wasn’t the environment best suited for his growth so he asked my parents to transfer him to a different school. He may not have taken home the most pleasing report cards but he formed himself and established an unbreakable personality. He set the trend; people looked up to and followed him. Basically, he was the boss. 

A year into college, he shifted courses from Fashion and Design to Multimedia Arts. This was done not without thought or hesitation. It meant additional finances for his parents, an extra year for him and a whole other adjustment. But in traditional Nikko fashion, he did it balls out. 

Nikko isn’t more outstanding than most artists. He can’t draw too well; his lines always end up jagged and curvy. He would never be able to sell a painting for over a thousand pesos. He takes great photos but a lot of people can do that especially with a good pair of lens and the right timing. He tried graffiti art too. He painted practically every available wall in his house. Including his sister’s room. without her permission. When he ran out of walls, he went up the roof and jiggled his cans of spray paint there. Finding his medium took a while. After experimenting with different mediums of art, he stumbled into film and it just felt right. He is now on his final year of school and working on a major production. He doesn’t like showing me his work but I’ve seen bits of them, on Vimeo or when he leaves his laptop on. And I have to say, he’ll definitely make it to New York one day.

On the other side of a coin, Nikko found his Mona Lisa when he was sixteen. She was his second girl friend but first real love. That was six years ago, it hasn’t been easy and I’ve seen him cry - they lived in two different continents for over 2 years, were reunited for a year, far apart once more - but he has never let go. I’m fairly certain he never will. That’s just the kind of person he is.

The thing that makes Nikko a great artist though (and the same thing that tells me he’s going to make it big) is that he looks for what he wants and when he finds it, he goes after it. Once, he climbed up the grills of a bridge just to create a tag, spray paint his name on it and leave a mark. 

A few years back he caught me crying and whining about how studying Nursing isn’t making me happy. He then gave me a lecture and told me “Your problem is you’re too nice. Don’t be afraid to assert what you want even if it means upsetting some people. You have a responsibility to yourself first.” That was a turning point for me, that’s when I started to write again. A little ways down the road I learned how to find meaning in what I do and to try to like it anyway. But the only way that’s possible is if I also get to live my passion. 

By the way, have I mentioned that Nikko is my younger brother. 

Persistence. Through his actions and through his lecture, my younger brother taught me how to be persistent. Ironic how I’m older and supposedly the one who should be teaching. In defense though, he wavers too and when he does, I make sure to remind him. 

Because really, when you want something, you fight for it. And the only way up is through persistence. :)

**A presto Sydney infine NY

Dear Mr. Maker,

My liver enzymes are probably high, my eyes are developing dark circles underneath them, my body hasn’t been on a yoga mat for over a week, and I just held a dead fetus the other day. But you know what, I’m still on my way to making my dreams come true so I’m grateful you gave me another day to live. 

Being a nurse, or in any medical profession, forces one to witness harrowing things. Others think people like us would reach a point where we’re just callous or immune to sob stories or painful sights. There’s a certain truth to that but only to a small degree. Somehow, something inside hardens - it needs to. This makes it possible for us to keep doing our job, to separate our emotions from the objective things. It allows us to keep pumping a patient’s chest, hoping for a trace of life, when we’re surrounded by weeping relatives, hysterically crying for us to do something. It allowed me to pick up a dead fetus, already complete with head and limbs, from its mother’s diaper. You know how terrified I was, how bad I felt for the mother losing her baby and seeing someone else hold it first. I felt the grooves of its tiny hands. It was so mortifying and overwhelming I just had to close my eyes for a second and to pray for strength. The hardening - it allows us to stay sane. 

Personally, it’s my way of choosing to focus on the beautiful and good things in life. 

I felt death in my hands. Literally. When I got home, I took the longest bath I had ever taken, the whole time I was thinking “Whyyyyy”. Why do things like that happen. Why do I have to be there to witness it. Why should I feel thankful to be alive. As soon as I was in my robe, I wanted to reach for a glass of whiskey. Never mind that it was 3 in the afternoon. Too bad we had run out. Coffee would do; it had do. And there it was, over a cup of delicious and warm coffee and the sight of my brother, tinkering with his camera. I felt life returning to me. Something about that critical moment earlier in the day made me feel glad I was living and breathing. And maybe I experienced a short existential crisis and all I needed was a jolt of caffeine to remind me there’s still a lot of good in life. 

This weekend I got to see a band I havent seen play live for almost a decade. My best friend and I acted like groupies, the classy ones but still fun. HAHA I also got to see a lot of familiar faces from high school. My sister, or the one who’d like to pretend is (I like it too) turned 24 and threw an awesome party. To cap it off, my siblings, dad and I sat in the same cinema together and enjoyed a movie. And then a few hours ago my brother and I saw a trailer of a film set in New York. Having experienced all this, I am truly thankful I am still alive. That said, I intend to live for as long as I can and milk as much sweetness out of life as I possibly could. 

I hope I’ve gotten it right. That in this life, we take the good with the bad. But we have to choose to focus on the good. And learn how to see beauty amidst the atrocity. 

Love, 

Fides

pinoytumblr:

Put your hometown on the map.

We are currently building an online map containing unique stories with local flavor, from all over the country.

If you’re an elementary or high school student from anywhere in the Philippines, you can have your hometown represented in this nationwide mapping project by submitting photos, videos, presentations, etc. telling what makes your hometown great and unique.

Once this project is finished, anyone can “tour” the whole Philippines online, with all your hometown stories pinned right where you live. It’s a way of promoting your place, and showing that hometown pride.

Prizes await the particpants who post the best entries. We will give prizes to your schools too. :)

For more information (and for registration details), you may visit www.doonposaamin.ph.

Registration deadline is on Sept. 30. Embedding of entries is until end of December this year.

(via elvino)