THE HAUNTING (not the movie)

The first half was reviewed but the saints were furious because those in purgatory were omitted in the plan for the next 6 months. 

That took two days of talking to a computer but instead of honoring saints and praying for souls, tombs were scrubbed after a year of neglect.

Candles, flowers, coffee and tupig, and a CALP survey were offered to ghosts as some sort of remembrance.  

Unseen spirits were placated with tiny flames, long enough to have a billing invoice inserted into the first acquittal.

More than a top up,  A$130,00 rehabilitated a mediocre case study but possessed and befuddled a Thursday morning meeting.  

Thus was how old friends pulled an atang of igado from a puddle in Calisitan, the prologue to an assembly of loyal friends and lasagna in Sarrat, and the epilogue for a dinakdakan seasoned with good friends in Bical.

There are serpents in Baloc clad in white, black as the declined birthday tinumis in Bakal 2, turncoats like a roadside tapa that that actually is daing na bangus.

A death in the ICU hurried delayed wellness checks that were stamped with the ressurection of the Iron Man who paid for the monthly bills but not for a round trip to Manila.

Traces of booze burned, the market and a drugstore were raided, a puppy was almost crushed for a Mexican legacy --- the annual haunting of burning candles, wilting flowers, and GCash for the dead...

THE CITADIN IS A CICERONE

Citadine is a French feminine word for citadin that roughly translates as "townsman" or "city dweller" in general, while a cicerone was once some kind of a tour guide, an Italian word that now refers to someone who "evaluate and select beers to  pair with food or recommend to customers".

I was both for 6 days at Room 1021 of the Citadines Bay City where I exrocised ammonia from the fly area to the crotch point with drops of shampoo for holy water and a hairdryer for a crucifix, the consequence of a supersaving bamboo paper towel's failure to absorb beer-induced urinary incontinence. 

Monsieur Citadin went to a bilateral meeting, intervened in behalf of taxonomy and APAEC 3, and was indifferent on tansition mineral mining.

Afterwards, Signore Cicerone led a lightning tour to Luneta, Binondo, and Escolta where Pinatubo IPA is brewed in Zambales  according to the German Purity Law unlike Engkanto's automated Green Lava Double IPA from Cavite and Crazy Carabao's IPA in Laguna that are nouveau indeed but easily toppled by a parade of San Miguel's canned high-alcohol, pale golden, and light lagers.

Surprisingly, Basque burnt cheesecake turned out to be an excellent pairing to all.

M. Citadin orated on how gender can be transformed, fired emails while consumers were being empowered, and walked around transition impacts on livelihood.

By 6 pm, Sig. Cicerone called on the Ilustrado's captain  to serve chilled bottles of Cerveza Negra dark lager, San Miguel Super Dry light amber lager, and San Miguel Premium all-malt to pair with the paella and rellenong bangus.  

Typhoon Kristine blanketed Manila in an Orange Alert as M. Citadin tapped through a midterm review and operational updates, docusigned and submitted a W-8BEWN during a digital hackaton, and put on a mask for the virtual discussion on the India situation.

Kuanzhai Alley's Laoshan and Snow Beer lagers are terribly flat and served with ice, the shame of Qingdao and Shenyang respectively, but Sig. Cicerone saved the chug with an excellent pairing of Sichuan braised soon hock fish with sour and spicy sauce.

M. Citadin's two Rivotril nights are not the reason for two late breakfasts but the bilaterals before the closing speeches. 

Sig. Cicerone then took it from there through a single speed bamboo bike race in Intramuros with stages at the Japanese naval gun near Baluarte de San Diego, the sealed Puerta Real, the founding fathers of the ASEAN at Revellin de Parian, King Philip II's sad statue at Plaza de Espana, the sorbeteros at Manila Cathedral, the haunted dungeons of Fort Santiago, and an epilogue at San Agustin Church. 

The tunay na beer at Gerry's Grill is properly chilled and came in buckets, the perfect pairing for an all-Filipino dinner of lumpiang shanghai, sizzling sisig, bangus ala pobre, crispy pork kare-kare, and sinigang na pampano.

There will always be restaurant hostesses dressed in an ao dai-style skirt and waitresses with dental brace who will always return excess payment but the lingering image is the silohuette of a slinky black thong...  

DISPATCHES FROM CALAMBA & MANILA

LAST WEEK'S HEADLINES

CN for "decolonial" seed fund submitted. ASEAN blogs on its care declaration decision. MT back as A&C chair. Khmer holiday for a send off party. PH OPA moved forward. Myanmar is 2025 ACW chair. Australia pushed on impact communications. ACE convenes post-AEBF reflection session. 

SIDEBAR FROM A HEADHUNT

It was a weird ritual and Mr. D got perplexed for missing the last round.

But the headhunted was already headhunted so he doesn't care.

Just a matter-of-factly moment for curiosity's sake rather than a necessity.

More pay and a higher position not aspired so not an ounce of pressure at all.

A haircut for a sincere headhunt in lieu of  St. john the Evangelist is what mattered.

So fuck the Foundation, hello to the Network, and I'll be staying with the Confederation!  

DATELINE CALAMBA --- The boy who died and his dog were frozen in bronze from point-to-point of the Bahay Kasttila's fading green paint.

He was affluent enough to be baptized in the stone church next door where workmen enjoyed mid-day naps with the vendors and tricycle barkers.

Did he have udon, karage, gyoza and onigiri  for lunch in Yokohama like Pugad baboy did at Murugame in Glorietta 4, or maybe the Sichuan hot pot they slurped at The Podium? 

His was a dramatic death that got him buried with the GomBurZa and the zombies of Manila's Spanish elite at the Cementerio General de Dilao.

He was shot at Bagumbayan for writing two novels, one of which exposed Padre Damaso as the biological father of a demure Maria Clara; confirmed dead at San Juan de Dios Hospital, buried and later exhumed at Paco Cemetery, urned and kept in Binondo, and finally reinterred in a plot where a national monument was erected by the Americans who were eager to portray a reformist as a national hero. 

BREAKING NEWS

Montezuma's revenge squirted into almost a week of trots from Purok Cablawan in Munoz to Burgos Street in Cabanatuan. 

After inhaling the fumes of burning tires, the Phantom Biker hallucinated of plowing the ricefields of Lomboy with San Isidro Labrador and the angels, of St. Dominic conjuring a vision of Our Mother of Perpetual Help wearing a huge rosary in Buasao that reflected the Madonna and Child picking folded P900 bills in Calisitan where St. James the Great's headless apparition was elevated as the first among the 12 disciples.

LIFESTYLE SECTION

The chef's apron is a red cap when he whipped up odd pairings with beer and whiskey: reheated balot and raw Spam, fresh sashimi and stale chicharon, pork done 3-ways (giniling, paksiw na pata, dinakdakan).

Diapered dogs and coño chatter crowd the Salcedo Saturday Market where an evening fast was broken with chewy Syrian baclava and a reheated pizza of dubious Italian origin, culinary disappointments that were salvaged by the authenticity of a boxed Pakistani mutton biryani, juicy Texas-style beef brisket, dripping Turkish lamb and beef kebab wraps, and a huge container of sublime taho. 

The Legazpi Sunday Market is more compact but eclectic in terms of culinary merchandise, bursting with a throng of jugs and callipygians that almost distracted the queue for a soft Chinese cuapao and crunchy lumpia, French salmon ceviche and ultra-sweet pecan pie, fried Indian samosa, and a to-go Morrocan shakshouka.

All of that however were eclipsed with just a passing glimpse of what can be a case of micromastia, flat as the central plains of Luzon and yet such a powerful image...