Manila backlog I
1/2/07 Arrived in Manila at 4 in the morning. Dad bought 3 bag's worth of duty-free. He somehow managed to lose the baggage claim sticker for our 3 tremendous balakbayan boxes and his luggage. Luckily at the Laoag airport they weren't such sticklers for such details. Also luckily someone was there to pick us up, since we didn't call ahead of time to confirm we were arriving (Why didn't you call my aunt and uncle ask me, but how do you get a call through on new year's eve?). On the drive to the house my aunt again tells me I need to get married so I have someone to take care of me when I'm old, and also to have kids to prove that I am macho (she says squaring her shoulders in a show of machismo).
When I see my mom, it's kind of a shock to see how old she has gotten, (she can't really walk much, and when she does she's always afraid of falling, even when she uses her walker) After a few days though, after the initial shock of seeing her, I realize that she hasn't really aged that much since she's been here and could pass for someone ten years younger if not for her mobility and communication problems.
1/3/07 My dad is a little less of a pain now, mainly because I don't have to drive him everywhere anymore and see to his needs in the middle of the night, and because most of his needs are met, he's much more agreeable than he was when he was in the states. the next day we take a trip to Vigan (the capital of Ilocos Sur, known for their longoniza and old spanish architecture). As soon as my dad declares his wish to go to Vigan, he calls up a driver, and gets the helpers to ready changes of clothes for him and my mom, and we're off right after breakfast. After lunch in Vigan an impromptu picnic in the car with food bought at some foodstalls, we head over to the ocean. At first I think it's to buy the catch of the day, which we do, all bloody and gleaming in styrofoam coolers, but then my dad goes to the last possible barangay before you hit the beach to buy some fighting cocks. He rides his motorized wheelchair out to see the cocks, and all the children in the village all gather around to gawk at his big exposed belly and his fancy machinery (it looks like a scene out of a spielberg movie. While my dad sizes up the cocks, I sit by the beach where my parent's helpers are taking a smoke break. They tell me that this is what they do most every day: take of on a whim to go wherever whenever, spending money till there's none left. On the way home with the chickens cooped up in cardboard boxes my mother keep muttering "they're all gonna die, matay, matay" which is apparently what happened to the last fighting cocks he bought, all four dead before they even had a chance to spar.
When I see my mom, it's kind of a shock to see how old she has gotten, (she can't really walk much, and when she does she's always afraid of falling, even when she uses her walker) After a few days though, after the initial shock of seeing her, I realize that she hasn't really aged that much since she's been here and could pass for someone ten years younger if not for her mobility and communication problems.
1/3/07 My dad is a little less of a pain now, mainly because I don't have to drive him everywhere anymore and see to his needs in the middle of the night, and because most of his needs are met, he's much more agreeable than he was when he was in the states. the next day we take a trip to Vigan (the capital of Ilocos Sur, known for their longoniza and old spanish architecture). As soon as my dad declares his wish to go to Vigan, he calls up a driver, and gets the helpers to ready changes of clothes for him and my mom, and we're off right after breakfast. After lunch in Vigan an impromptu picnic in the car with food bought at some foodstalls, we head over to the ocean. At first I think it's to buy the catch of the day, which we do, all bloody and gleaming in styrofoam coolers, but then my dad goes to the last possible barangay before you hit the beach to buy some fighting cocks. He rides his motorized wheelchair out to see the cocks, and all the children in the village all gather around to gawk at his big exposed belly and his fancy machinery (it looks like a scene out of a spielberg movie. While my dad sizes up the cocks, I sit by the beach where my parent's helpers are taking a smoke break. They tell me that this is what they do most every day: take of on a whim to go wherever whenever, spending money till there's none left. On the way home with the chickens cooped up in cardboard boxes my mother keep muttering "they're all gonna die, matay, matay" which is apparently what happened to the last fighting cocks he bought, all four dead before they even had a chance to spar.
posted by JGLuzifer at 11:53 PM
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