O.P.A.L. IN MY MIND

There was a PIP, and there was Ate Guy, and Crimson too, on my Mule and on my back pocket, as we took off, me on AGT and Bulan on LDQ, in defense of climate action, this year in Paris and nothing else, as I down-hilled on a muddy track, and crashed for the second time in my MTB life, picked myself, user name and password intact. 

The logic of PIP flowed, upped the power, to the second-to-the-last climb, spilled a little, but enough for the bike to stall, while Vee photographed that moment, and I wondered where Bulan and LDQ is.

Finally the end, where we started with boiled eggs and bananas, and concluded with boiled rice and peanuts, handed cardboard medals, and paper certificates too from the City Mayor, my former line manager, as with two others.

It must be the lasagna, and the shanghaied fish and bread, served before my induction, a haunting that lingered, in my wallet, in may tote bag, in my mug, and ignited recurring dreams on burn rates and traffic light codes , or maybe the TOIL of the next day, as we broke the trails of Villa Isla with OPAL swimming in my Pocari bottle.  

FOOTNOTE: Except for the food, all photos were provided by Lorelie Vee Domingo.

ANG PAGPAPATULOY NG NABITIN

Nangangapa, tumutuklas, bumabagay, nang biglang dumating ang visa at nahanap ang budget code, kaya ako natuloy sa Bonn at naranasan ang ganansiya ng aking Silver Card, kaya naputol, naudlot, nabitin, ang break-in sa aking bagong mundo, na nagtuloy sa aking pagbabalik, sa una kong pag-uulat sa stand-up meeting, sa pagkaka-issue ng bago kong lap top, ng bago kong email address, na nagbukas sa mga pintuan ng Lotus Notes, Lancelot o Merlin, KARL, SUMUS, sa pagkakatagpo sa matutuluyan, pagkatapos ng Teachers' Village, Sikatuna, Panay, ang mga almusal sa Mother Ignacia, mga kalakal na pananghalian ni Manang, hapunan sa kung saan-saan, at ang unang biyaya ng TOIL.

Kaya may lomi n'ung Biyernes, McMuffin n'ung Sabado, at Kani Sandwich n'ung Biyernes, dahil muling nakapaglakbay ang mga nangangalay na gulong ni AGT, dahil natuloy din ang nabitin ng dalawang linggo...

BONN-ed TO WALK

Bonn, that small city along the Rhine, waxed hot and cold, and I, reinstated but reluctant, endured the rote of a "can do" breakfast at Hotel zum Lowen, a new walking experience along Von-Groote-Platz to Bad Godesberg Banhoff forcefully providing a semblance of comfort, although scared that the silent walking/running/standing/sitting mass in and out Lines No. 16 and 63 has become me, while the familiarity of the Maritim tugged at the heart with each dreaded stop at the Heussallee/Museumsmeile to another culinary torture from that inedible morass, disguised as food, pouring from the tin cans of the World Conference Center, and finally breaking free from it all with a sweet lunch and a dessert of an adaptation goal at Tulpenfeld, and then coming back to it all, almost masochistically, as hog wash for lunch, but at least in the company of old and new friends, and the anesthetic view of downtown Bonn from the 24th floor of the UN Campus.  

I walked lot, pretending to be interested but not, the challenge and excitement of past SBs a mere footnote to what we were once, consoled that the house perched on the hill once again opened its door and pantry to us, propping sagging spirits with beer and wine, with cheese and chips, with the meat I grilled for two hours, with the stories that came and went, finally riding home alone in the bus, walking, throwing myself to the musty smell and warmness of a bed so wide in a cavernous room that is not very Bonn, resigned to the fate of the usual breakfast, the daily grind, the falseness of it all, and the rare sunny moments with former friends who are now family.     

I did not leave Bonn.

I fled from it, walked away with baggage in tow across the cobblestones of Marketplatz, handbag bursting with an assortment of German sausages, killing time with a curry wurst and left-over apple juice, taking the airport bus with six hours left to kill, exploring every level, every wing, every elevator shaft of the Cologne/Bonn Airport, a bomb scare, a piece of the Berlin Wall, an authentic German lunch of grilled blood sausage and mashed potatoes and a tall beer, a sundae at McDonalds, until it's time to leave Bonn, perhaps until another session, perhaps forever.    

All in all, I logged 101,299 walking steps in Bonn, or 80.4 kilometers, or 10,129.9 steps/8.04 kilometers each day, the most of which is the 19,026 steps covering 19.7 kilometers the day I left, fled, and walked away from Bonn...  

ODES FROM BONN

"You see, an eye for an eye
is still an eye for two,
so who wins the stalemate?
both one-eyed jacks do..." (NOEL IRION)

"When life throws you lemons,
you throw back a Molotov. (THE SMART-ASS RABBI)

"Music and words can only do so much

but the situation refuses touch

so visuals will have to be enough

until we can sneak away out of sight…." (UNKNOWN)

W.H.P.

Tama.

Ito ay dapat binabasa kasabay ng pag-awit ni Joey Ayala, o ni Rence Rapanot, ng "Walang Hanggang Paalam", o WHP.

Kung napindot mo na ang "Play" ay puede mo nang ituloy ang pagbabasa.

Kasi nga ay tungkol ito sa pamamaalam, isang linggong pagpapaalam...

...sa Social Watch-Philippines, o SWP, at kina Janet, Luz, at Derek na mga nakasama ko sa isang mahabang paglalakbay sa kagubutan ng mga MDGs, o SDGs pagkatapos ng 2015.

At kadalasan, pagkatapos ng pagpapaalam, ay kailangang uminom ng alak, lalo na kung ang mga pinagpaalaman ay para nang libag na dumikit sa balat, lalo na kung ang iinumin ay craft beer at libre.

Matagal ko ding nakasama sina Hazel at ang tropang Rice Watch and Action Network, o R1, at isa nga ako sa naging ninong ng kanyang pangalan, sa magarang bulwagan ng Discovery Suites, kaya lumaylay din ang aking puso nang ako ay magpaalam, bagamat hindi na kailangan pang uminom ng craft beer, at nagkasya na sa isang bote ng San Mig Lights.

Makipot at payak ang bago kong lamesa kung ihahambing sa pinagpaalaman kong pinagmulan, pero mas sariwa ang pagkakataon, mas nakakatindig balahibo ang mga hamon, at mas mataas ang sahod sa bago kong kinaroroonan, bagamat medyo naging magaspang ang pasok ng mapait na katotohanang ako ay pipila sa sasakyan pag-uwi tuwing Biyernes ng gabi, o Sabado ng madaling araw.

Mabuti na lang na hindi ako iniiwan ni AGT, bagamat madalas ko siyang pagpaalaman, at lumalambot ang gulong niya na hindi man lang nakakalabas ng bahay.

Iba ang naging hugis sa mapa ng Strava ng inakala kong mala bitukang manok na dinaanan, at kung minsan ay kailangang tumuloy sa paglalakbay kahit na wala nang dadaanan...