CHASING THE DRAGON

-I-

Wang Ni Hao ang pangalan ng tour guide namin.

Apat na grupo kami sa tour van: tatlong mag-anak na Intsik mula Shanghai, dalawang Swedish na napagkamalan kong mag-syota pero hindi naman pala, isang matandang Belgian at ang jowa niyang inglesarang Intsik, 'tsaka ako.

Suot ko pa din ang slacks mula kahapon [ika-day 4 na niya], batik na polo na minsan ko nang naisuot sa Stockholm, at panibagong pares ng gamit na ding medyas.

Pero at least, bagong laba ang brief ko kahit medyo basa pa.

Napansin ko agad 'yung nakadungaw na tato ng ulo ng dragon sa dibdib n'ung seksi pero may edad na ding kasama n'ung Belgian na ang buntot ay nakalaylay na sa may malapit sa singit niya.

Mahaba ang pasakalye ni Wang Ni Hao habang pabiyahe kami papunta sa Ming Dynasty Tombs.

Flawless ang Ingles niya.

Patango-tango lang ang mag-anak na Instik.

Hanggang sa makarating kami sa Ming Tombs.

Flawless pa din ang Ingles ni Wang Ni Hao.

Pero pagdating namin ng Ling'en Gate ay nagwala na 'yung mamang Instik.

Matagal silang nag-Intsikan ni Wang Ni Hao.

Mayamaya ay lumapit sa amin ang tour guide. 

Eka niya ay kailangan na din niyang mag-Intsik mula sa puntong 'yun dahil hindi nakakaintindi ng Ingles 'yung asawa n'ung mama.

Wala namang naging problema mula noon hanggang sa matapos ang tour namin sa Changling Tomb at mananghali kami sa jade factory.

'Yung aleng hindi nakakaintindi ng Ingles pa ang nagbuhos ng mga tsaa namin.

At nakadungaw pa din ang dragon sa dibdib n'ung seksing Instsik.

-II-

Tumuloy kami sa Badaling.

Malaking bagay sa akin ito dahil labis pa din ang aking pagsisi na hindi ko pinatulan ang Great Wall tour noong 2010 sa Tianjin.

At dahil lamang sa paghihinayang sa punyetang $100 tour fee [RMB200 lang ang ibinayad ko sa tour na ito, kasama ang pagkain].

Pumila kami sa pagsakay sa cable car habang bumibili si Wang Ni Hao ng mga ticket namin.

Flawless pa din ang Ingles niya.

At sa wakas, narating ko din ang Great Wall of China...

Mainit, walang masisilungan, at tumatagas na ang pigil na ihi sa bagong laba kong brief.

Kaya bumaba na ako at tumambay sa ilalim ng mga cherry tree habang kumakain ng ice cream [popsicle ang tawag sa atin].

Mayamaya ay dumating na din ang Belgian at si aleng seksi.

Napagod yata ang dragon dahil hindi na makita sa dibdib ni aleng seksi.

Dumating si Wang Ni Hao.

Flawless pa din ang Ingles niya.

Pabalik ay dumaan kami sa Olympic Park.

Huminto kami sa Dong Wu Silk Museum at matapos mamili ay inihatid na kami sa aming mga hotel.

Flawless pa din ang Ingles ni Wang Ni Hao pero 'yung ulo ng dragon ay sa singit na ni aleng seksi nakadungaw.

STRANDED!

Typhoon Maring + LPA sa Pilipinas + masungit na immigration officer sa Beijing = cancelled flight. 

Sabi ng PAL representative, bahala na daw muna si Batman sa amin.

[Fast forward to Kang Ming Hotel]

Wala daw express laundry service ang hotel.

Kaya twice used slacks + once used socks + new souvenir t-shirt = attire of the day.

Brief-less din kaya presko.

[Forbidden City]

Hapon na ako nakarating.

Buti na lang at tinuruan akong sumakay sa Bus No. 2 n'ung kahero sa convenience store na binilhan ko ng tubig at napagtanungan.

Buti na lang at ibinaba ako n'ung konduktor ng Bus No. 2 sa tamang lugar.

Pero exit ang nasuot ko kaya na-"No come back" ako ng bantay.

Buti na lang at naituro niya sa akin na sumakay ulit ng Bus No. 1 or 2 at bumaba sa third stop.

Pumasok ako sa Tiananmen Gate at nakarating hanggang East Glorious gate pero hindi na ako umabot.

Sarado na ang Meridian Gate na siyang tanging lagusan patungo sa Inner Court.

[Tiananmen Square]

Mahigpit ang security.

May x-ray machine at random ID checks.

Madami ding nakakakalat na security forces.

Nagpa-pityur ako sa isang photographer.

[Bus No. 2]

Akala ko kabisado ko na ang daan pabalik.

Sumakay ulit ako sa Bus No. 2.

Sa last stop ko na nalaman na mukhang naligaw ako.

Ang intindi ko sa sinabi ng konduktor ay bumalik ako at sumakay ulit ng Bus No. 2.

Bumalik nga ako, naghanap ng bus stop, nagtanong, kumabila sa highway, naglakad pa ulit, kumabila ulit sa highway, bumalik sa una kong binabaan.

Walang Bus No. 2 at wala ding bus stop.

May itinatanong sa akin 'yung mamang binilhan ko ng tubig pero di ko maintindihan.

"Saan daw ba ako pupunta", eka ng translation ng celfone ng dalagang duling sa tanong n'ung mama sa akin.

Ipinakita ko ang tarheta ng hotel, muling nagpipindot ang dalagang duling sa kanyang celfone.

Tapos ay hinila niya ako at dinala sa bus terminal na tapat lang pala ng unang binabaan ko.

Sa pamamagitan ng sign language ay nalaman kong kailangan ko ngang sumakay sa Bus No. 2.

Nalaman ko sa konduktor kung saan ako dapat bumaba.

Malapit na pala sa hotel ko ang last stop ng Bus No. 2.

[Kang Ming Hotel]

Hindi kami magkaintindihan ng waitress.

Nakatingin lang siya sa akin, nakangiti, mukhang nagpapakyut.

"Sige, dumplings na lang at Chinese beer."

'Yun ang unang hapunan ko sa Beijing: sangkatutak na dumplings na may sawsawang suka na lasang basi at dalawang bote ng beer.

Pagkatapos ay nilabahan ko 'yung t-shirt at jogging pants na suot ko pa kahapon 'tsaka tig-dalawang medyas at brief.

Natulog ako nang naka-burles.

DIARY OF A ONE-DAY TOURIST

Prologue

Finally, Stockholm, mid-morning, after almost 2 hours by taxi and bus from Ranas Slott.

Ritual check-in, then the the churches of Gamla Stan.

The next day...

6:30 am [Street Shooting]

...I took the streets of Gamla Stan, empty and cold at that hour but exuding with a soft and almost sublime early morning light.

Perfect for street photography.

Marten Trotzigs Grand [Alley of Marten Trotzigs] at 90 centimeters wide is the narrowest street in all Stockholm and the Prastgatan [The Priest's Street] reputed as the most beautiful street of Gamla Stan.

8:30 am [The Royal Palace]

High walls rising from a protective moat and tall towers crowned by fluttering triangular flags where pretty princesses wait to be rescued. 

That's the castle I know from those fairy tale books. 

So I was quite disappointed with the box-type architecture of Stockholm's Royal Palace [a glorified and ornate SM Mall?].

A first impression, the pompous spectacle of the changing of the guards as the sole connection to royalty.    

The Inner Courtyard?

It's almost an American prison from a Discovery Channel documentary where inmates exercise, socialize, and do their stabbing frenzies.

But inside the Royal Apartments [NOTE: photography not allowed], royalty hit me: 600 cavernous rooms, the State Hall and its dominating silver throne [circa 1650], the Apartments of the Orders of Chivalry and its array of royal medals and decorations, the Council Chambers where Nobel Prize winners were feted and dined, several State Bedchambers where kings and queens slept, the White Sea Room and its classical ceiling paintings of voluptuous bra-less women, the phallic symbols of the Pillar Room, and regally furnished drawing and study rooms.

In the Treasury below is a display of crowns, swords, orbs, and scepters [might have been a medieval dungeon once].

Opposite is the Royal Chapel [also off limits to camera], circa 1754, Christ in Gethsemane as its altar centerpiece.

The Tre Kronor Museum tells the palace's beginnings as a defensive fortification [10th century], its evolution into a castle [13th century], and the building of the present structure to replace the gutted old castle [17th century].

Adjacent is Gustav III's Museum of Antiquities where various Roman artifacts, perhaps plundered loots of war, are on display.

11:00 am [Riksdagshuset, Riddarhuset, and Bondeska Palatset]

Going back to the hotel, I gawked a little at the recently built Riksdagshuset [Parliament Building, circa 1905], ornate but box-type like the palace...

...inspected the Riddarhuset [House of the Nobility], a 17th century Baroque house, again ornate but box type, said to be one of Stockholm's most beautiful structures where noblemen of yore met and plotted...   

...and quickly shot the Bondeska Palatset [Bonde Palace], also 17th century, once the residence of a Lord High Treasurer and now seat of the Swedish Supreme Court.

1:00 pm [Stortorget]

I checked out and dragged my suitcase-in-wheels to the heart of Gamla Stan in Stortorget [Great Square]. 

In the square center is an old well with the name   Stortorgsbrunnen --- the city center from where all distances are measured [their Luneta].

Bordering the square is Borshuset, 18th century, once a stock exchange building, and presently the Nobel Museum where the Swedish Academy announces the Nobel Prize for Literature. 

And there I lunched on the much touted Nobel ice cream.

Epilogue

I walked to the Central Station from Stortorget.

There I took the Arlanda Express Train to the airport.

I'm going home...

THE CHURCHES OF GAMLA STAN

Finally, Gamla Stan --- that cobblestoned island bursting with an array of well-preserved medieval buildings that is Stockholm's heart and soul.

And an old town means old churches.

Quite old, like the 12th century Great Church which is also the Stockholm Cathedral --- the Swedish royalty's preferred  house of worship --- home to a massive sculpture of St. George slaying the dragon, a rather huge candlstick, a silver-plated main altar, and a collection of interesting church paintings.

Nearby, a needle of a spire easily gave away the German Church, unique for its two massive pillars in the middle that effectively blocked a view of the Baroque altar from what was once the main entrance, the interior almost drowning in archaic church art like the lavish King's Gallery for a Swedish queen of German descent, a replica of the more-than-ornate church organ, the alabaster-and-ebony pulpit, and the bible as illustrated in at least 119 paintings that hover like butterflies around what space is left inside.

And finally, the Riddarholmen Church which is a bridge away from the center of Gam Stan, one of Stockholm's oldest structures and its only surviving medieval abbey, perhaps too old that it became the preferred burial ground of kings and queens whose royal coffins today served as the church's main tourist draw.

The end of the day found me contemplating a blisterred toe and numbing legs along the Riddarfjarden while trying to chase away creeping hunger and thirst with my stash of Marlboro Lights.

I was both sore and happy.

As I made way back up a slope, the spires of the three churches slowly unfolded like striptease show, an encore for an amazing day walking the cobbled streets and shooting the ancient churches of Gamla Stan... 

BEYOND THE CASTLE

We came to Sweden to work.

Only two months is left before parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change meet in Warsaw to try to deliver the Doha mandate on addressing loss and damage due to the adverse effect of climate change.

And we have to catch up on the lost session in Bonn [no thanks to Belarus, Ukraine, and Russia].

It's amazing how 2 days of informal talks can accomplish compared to 2 weeks of formal negotiations.

I think we did well in Sweden.

It was thus with happy feet and a good night sleep that I went out of the castle gates.

The small town was embraced by fog and still sleeping.

I was hoping to get a church.

But perhaps, some other time.

Maybe further out the gates.

In Stockholm. 

In an ancient place called Gamla Stan...

MAD HOUSE

DAY 1 DINNER CONVERSATION

JAMAICA: Is that a human head or what? These murals sure are weird.

ST. LUCIA: Just so you know, this was once a mental institution.

ARGENTINA: Really? Now that might explain those strange drawings.

PHILIPPINES: So this is was an old castle then a mad house. In my country, this will qualify the place as haunted.

DAY 2 DINNER CONVERSATION

NORWAY: Is that a nude figure bleeding a headless goose?  

SWEDEN: My theory is, those are the work of one of the crazy people who was interred here.  

UNITED KINGDOM: Yeah?

PHILIPPINES: Wow, there must be crazy spirits dining with us now.

SINGAPORE: [Nods and continued conversing with UK].

DAY 3 DINNER CONVERSATION

AUSTRIA: You really eat fish head?

GRENADA: Yeah, and the eyes are the best part. It helps you become smarter.

JAPAN: Sometimes we deep fry the fish too and eat everything.

PHILIPPINES: If we have visitors, we usually use a spoon to scoop the eyes out. During normal days, we just suck the eyes from the head.

MORNING OF DAY 2

ST. LUCIA and JAMAICA: How are the spirits? Did they come visit you?

PHILIPPINES: I was so tired and sleepy I did not actually care if they slept in my room.

[Laughter].

MORNING OF DAY 3

POLAND: [Said "Hi!" while jogging in the morning drizzle].

NORWAY; [Did a clock beating sprint before slowing down and saying "Hi" too].

PHILIPPINES: [Cursed the rain. Before that, a deer crossed his path while he was walking from the lake. The deer stopped briefly and gave him a mean look. Must be one of those crazy spirits].

MORNING OF DAY 4

GHANA: You are early. Did you go for a walk?

TANZANIA: [Looks at Philippines while sipping her coffee].

KENYA: [Cracks his soft boiled egg].

PHILIPPINES: I went out to take some photos. I was hoping to capture at least one the crazy spirits here.

[In the afternoon of DAY 2, Sweden's Minister of Environment and Ambassador for Climate Change came to toast us. She did not speak about the odd paintings in the dining hall. The semi-human painted figures seemed not to care].