Some
Preliminary Matters
Some
people at Mabalacat City College liked me for being brutally frank
and straightforward. Others hated me for it. Sometimes, I don’t like
it in me too. But I’d rather be frank and straightforward, it’s
more beneficial for myriad of reasons.
For
sometime now, I have been isolated at the College. The College
Officials had meetings every now and then. I am a College Official,
but I was not included. Everything I say or do always goes out of
context. It will always be misinterpreted to mean that I am aiming to
become the next president. Oops, the straightforward in me again!
Frankly, I don’t, at least not for now, or in the immediate future.
There is a right time for everything. And I might even become one in another
College and not necessarily at Mabalacat City College.
By
the last week of November, 2013, there were hate text messages
against a College official circulating around. I didn’t know about
it until Mr. Franz Lawrence Senapilo, a social science faculty
member, showed me one of the text messages. Reading the message, I
told him to just ignore it. The issues raised were old and were just
recycled. And I don’t think the official involved will even be
bothered by it at all.
To my surprise, official involved was totally bothered. Worst, in a coffee klatch with the Deans, he identified me as the source of the text message. Eventually, I ended up in a meeting where the hate text messages were discussed. There were only two suspects, both of us found ourselves under investigation.
I
denied involvement. I am very vocal and straightforward. I speak my
mind. There is no reason for me to use hate text messaging for I am a
lawyer and I can always to go courts and other quasi-judicial bodies
for my grievances. I also found parts of the messages which are
inconsistent with my position or which I do not know. For instance,
the message criticized a recent trip to Thailand which I did not know
a thing about.
Speaking
of trips, I was informed (in the same ‘custodial investigation’)
that the College and Institute Officials will attend the Global Peace
Convention 2013 in Kuala Lumpur come December 4-10, 2013. As I was
isolated, all College and Institute Officials, except me, are going.
Out of courtesy, the ‘investigating panel’ invited me to join
them but I politely declined. I am attending an MCLE seminar at the
University of the Philippines Law Center which will last until
December 5. The panel insisted that I should go. Me? Trip to
Malaysia? Why not? I will just follow them after my seminar.
Malaysia
here I Come, December
6, 2013
I
am very early today. It’s my first time to travel to a foreign
country alone. And I’m sure I am going to get lost (I am expecting
it, but the thought of it excites me). In the meantime, I don’t
want to be late for my trip. According to my eTicket, my flight to
Kuala Lumpur is at 6:50 a.m. so I have to be at the airport at least
two hours before. I left home at around 2 a.m., arrived at Pasay City
at around 3:20 a.m. and as always, I ate at my favorite Kapampangan
Carinderia near the Rotunda. From there, I’m supposed to take a
service bus to the airport. But I was told that there is no service
bus to NAIA Terminal 1 so I took a cab to the terminal. I have a
little chat with the cab driver. He said he wouldn’t eat in the
said restaurant because every time he does so, he experienced
constipation. I paused to reflect.
At
the check-in counter, the Filipino ground staff of Malaysia Airlines
sounded like an important immigration officer. He noticed on my
eTicket that I am entering Malaysia on December 6 and coming back to
the Philippines via Singapore on December 10. He inquired if I have a
connecting flight. I said “no.” He proceeded to ask if I already
have a return ticket. I said “yes.” Then, out of nowhere, he
asked what I am going to do in Malaysia. I told him I am attending a
sort of peace convention which at that point I have no idea what.
Realizing it’s none of his business; he cut my explainings, thanked
me for waiting and told me to be at Gate 1. Strangely, at the
immigration counter, they stamped my passport and allowed me in. No
questions asked.
And
Gate 1 it is. The departure area is so dirty – soiled carpets,
dingy surroundings. It doesn’t seem like an international airport
at all. Malaysia Airlines’ flight MH 0805 promptly took off as
scheduled. As the plane took off, I realized that I am braver now.
Before, I am always afraid of take-offs. But now I enjoyed it.
I
am lucky to be seated near the window. My thoughts float. If you are
at the top of the world, you will see everything. I had an early
morning bird’s eye view of Metro Manila and its grandeur. It is so
beautiful. Manila’s dirty streets cannot be seen from above. As
the plane ascended, I saw the fish pens of Manila Bay. I cannot
forget the grand view of the green mountains of Mariveles, Bataan.
From afar, I saw the big cross – Ang Dambana ng Kagitingan. I once
climbed that shrine with my classmates from Tarlac State University. I
easily recognized the tadpole-shaped Corregidor Island. Behind it are
the volcanoes of Bataan Peninsula. Bataan is indeed a geological
wonder. The captain announced that we are flying towards Vietnam at
2,000 ft. altitude.
My
thoughts were disrupted by the flight steward clad in batik.
Her luscious lips murmured if I wanted rice with spicy seafood or
chicken with Chinese noodles. I chose the former. The food is
delicious. This is my first taste of Malaysian cuisine. I am now
convinced that there is a universal concept of tastefulness. Sleep is
the next thing on my mind. I attempted to sleep but just can’t.
Nobody
met me at the airport. I have been roaming around the airport for
almost an hour and nobody was there to fetch me. I searched for my
name from the boards of those who were there to meet someone. But my
name wasn’t there.
My
phone is useless. I left Manila early enough that I wasn’t able to
shift my phone to roaming mode. I was on the verge of panic; I am a
stranger in an unfamiliar place, with useless sim and nowhere to go.
I scribbled the phone numbers of my companions, just in case I ran
out of battery. A new sim (probably with a Malaysian signal) would
cost me 8 Ringgit – this I am about to do but, the queue is long.
Though, I still hope that a card with my name on it will be shown by
a stranger. No help is coming.
Checking
on the itinerary for Singapore, I read that the group will be fetched
from Kuala Lumpur at the Concorde Hotel. Aha! Trying my luck at the
Concorde Hotel, I went to the booth of Taxis with fixed rates.
“I
needed to go to Concorde Hotel.” I said.
“Sir,
we have a problem. There are six Concorde Hotels in Malaysia.” The
puzzled lady behind the glass window answered.
“Bring
me to a Concorde Hotel in Kuala Lumpur.” I tried my luck.
Luckily,
there is only one Concorde Hotel in Kuala Lumpur. The airport taxi
with fixed rate is really a gift. I paid RM 74.30. And this is really
cheap considering that the distance from the airport to Concorde
Hotel is more than an hour and passing through at least two toll
gates.
The
taxi driver was short and dark. He looked like an Indian with a Thai
name and Malaysian citizenship – a taste of Kuala Lumpur’s
multiracial society. For confirmation he asked me if I am bound for
Hotel Concorde in Kuala Lumpur. I said yes. He was dismayed. He said
“bad place.” I am sure he is referring to the traffic situation.
He cursed all the time. I think he’s racing against time. It’s
past lunchtime and every time we got stuck in a traffic jam, he
cursed. His black lips, balding head, and dark neck, definitely
looked ugly as he cursed.
And
soon, after a few traffic stops and lots of curses, we arrived at the
doorstep of the hotel. I gave him my remaining RM 25 to compensate
him of his stress. After a few unsuccessful calls and after gathering
what was left of my strength, I asked a panicky hotel front desk
staff named Mike if Madam Carmelita P. Sotto is billeted in the said
hotel. When the answer was “yes,” I was relieved. I remembered a
text message from Madam Sotto asking me if I wanted to be registered
to which I said yes. I asked the hotel staff if I am registered
guest at the hotel. He said “yes,” you were billeted since
December 3. I said I just arrived. He became confused. I asked for
the key which he hesitantly gave. Well, I got the key. It’s time
for a long well-deserved sleep.
I
slept till the afternoon and I woke up hungry. Then I went for a
stroll. It’s time to conquer Kuala Lumpur. I hunted for food. I saw
KFC and became happy. At least, it’s a western restaurant, I told
myself. To my joy, the cost of living in Kuala Lumpur is almost the
same with that of the Philippines. So food costs almost the same. I
ordered chicken combo which has a Malaysian touch. The spicy fried
chicken was red with chili power and sprinkled with green chopped
lemon grass. This, plus nasi
lemak,
the rice cooked in coconut milk. Wow! It’s a meal that is a blend
of Western and Asian flavors.
At
KFC, I saw some students wearing blue shirts which stated that they
were committee members of the Global Peace Convention 2013. I asked
them where the said conference is held. They told me it was held at
Shangri-La Hotel. Aha. My companions are at Shangri-La Hotel. And
there I went. The hotel was just a few blocks away, so I just walked.
Reaching
the hotel entrance, I saw Madams Carmelita P. Sotto (VPAF), Eriberta
T. Maglaqui (VPAA), and Amelia Z. Macapagal (VPSAS) coming out of the
hotel exhausted from the conference. I’m found.
At
the Global Peace Conference, December
7, 2013
Day
two started with a sumptuous breakfast at the Concorde Hotel. I love
buffet breakfast at hotels. I can mix up almost everything. From the
assemblage for Chinese porridges, I picked some eggs, chopped fresh
onions, fried peanuts and dried fish. And then I go for something
western, like sauced beans, sausages, bread and then, coffee and
apple juice. Aha! My tray looked like a collection of all the food I
missed. This mix-up reflects my Filipino culture.
Today
is the last day of the convention. Yet, it is my first. But the
convener still collected the full US$ 500 from me. Well, at least it
included the bill of the Concorde Hotel. There was a plenary session
in the morning, and in the afternoon, parallel sessions were held
under many major topics allied to “peace.” I chose the topic on
women and interfaith. Generally, I liked the convention. It brought
me so much enlightenment. My only problem is, I found its goals too
lofty. Just how serious were these people in these goals? They’re
too good to be real. It seemed like some were only there for a show!
For
example, Mrs. Norlina Alawi, a woman from Malaysia who legally
adopted thirty three (33) children in addition to her seven (7)
biological children. They now comprise the One Big Family Foundation
of Malaysia (Cinta
Tanpa Sempadan).
During her presentation, she became emotional and burst into tears.
After rearing forty (40) children, some of them died in her arms,
she’s supposed to be tough by now. The other presenters seemed to
show only minor results of their efforts.
Noticeably,
Africans show much interest in the convention. They’re everywhere
and in their traditional African garb. I later found out that most of
the beneficiaries of the Global Peace programs are African countries.
From
the convention, we decided to walk to the Petronas Tower for supper.
According to Madam Sotto, she’s tired of the food served at the
Shangri-la. She invited us for some food trip at downtown the Kuala
Lumpur. It was a short walk. But it’s too tough for the old women
with us. We passed through some landscaped parks. I am impressed of
the trees at the park we passed by. The trees grow almost straightly,
beautiful indeed.
We
ate at the mall at the base of Petronas Tower. Then, we went to buy
dried fruits for gifts. With us is Dr. Dinah F. Mindo, Chair,
Character-Based Education Program, Global Peace Foundation,
Philippines. There is a newly-opened flee market. We promised to drop
by after our Petronas Tower visit. But when we came back it was
already closed for the night. We walked towards the hotel. The oldies
were so tired and exhausted but were happy.
Kuala
Lumpur unfold its Street Secrets
After ‘sending
the oldies to bed,’ I tried contacting the Deans. But they were not
in their rooms. They must have strolled around Kuala Lumpur. I have
no choice but to roam around Kuala Lumpur by myself. I walked to the
location of the minaret, the Menara.
I did not enter the establishment but took some good photos of it.
It’s Saturday night and I’m at the heart of Kuala Lumpur. Party
people, young and not-so-young, converged at the crowded bars along
Jalan Pramlee near the Petronas Tower. The partying caused too much
traffic and because it’s rush hour, the commuters really got
irritated.
Ignoring
the Jalan Pramlee, I walked through Jalan Sultan Ismail towards the
Berjaya Times Square. As the night deepens, the streets unfolded its
secrets. There was a lover’s quarrel which erupted into sobs. The
woman’s cry broke my heart. At the roadside, exhausted workers and
commuters are waiting for their buses home. Joining the crowd are
prostitutes and other shady personalities.
I
intended to walk to Berjaya Times Square, but to my disappointment, I
saw from afar that it is not a square at all. It is just a big
building. Along the way, a gateway caught my attention – the Ain
Arabia.
I thought it is a historic place because the locals and the
government especially reserved the corner for it. But it’s not. It
is only a park for Arab tourists. I loved the arabesque orange walls
that surrounded the park. To complete the ambiance, the park is dimly
lighted. I feel unsafe roaming around and taking photos around the
park. There were people sleeping at the park too and taking photos
seemed awkward. So, I left.
Tired
I went back to the Concorde Hotel. I slept like a king. My roommate,
Dr. Jose V. Guintu, Dean of the Institute of Teacher Education, was
not able to make it. His passport cannot be located. So, the room is
mine, totally.
The
Feast of the Immaculate Conception at the Church of Saint John the
Baptist, December
8, 2013
To
go to church or not to go, that was a tough question. Of course the
answer was a “Yes!” But long socializations at the breakfast
table especially with other Filipinos felt better than going to the
church. Buffet breakfasts were great at the Concorde Hotel. As usual,
I go for an unusual mixture of American, Chinese and whatsoever. And
the result – A Filipino breakfast feast!
The
Church of Saint John the Baptist is said to be a well-known place.
But the first taxi-cab we hailed said he did not know the place.
Well, according to the next taxi cab, that first one just feigned
ignorance because he doesn’t want to take us there. It’s not
profitable for him because the place is too near. It’s located
downtown Kuala Lumpur near the Menara.
It’s December 8, the feast day of the Immaculate Conception of
Mary, and my companions – all Marian devotees – are aching to be
in the church. We arrived there just in time for the mass.
The
church scene reveals Kuala Lumpur’s multi-cultural society. I saw
brown, black, white and red people – Africans, Americans, Malays,
Indians, Chinese and Filipinos. It was a well-attended mass. The
choir is very spirited. Mostly black, they sounded like an African
choir.
Outside
the church are food stalls selling Filipino food. We were informed
that many of the Sunday church-goers are Filipinos who probably
missed Filipino food. Thus, some of our enterprising kababayans
were at the church gates selling packed Filipino food. The oldies
bought Filipino food and ate like picnickers at the Concorde Hotel’s
poolside. While we went to KFC for some chicken cooked a la
Indonesian style.
Not
Filipino, but Malaysian Drivers are the Worst in the World
The
rest of the day will be spent travelling by land to Singapore. We
waited at the hotel lobby for our ride to the Berjaya Times Square.
The lobby, though lavishly decorated with Christmas gizmos, lacked
Christmas spirit. It felt like they’re faking Christmas just to
patronize their Christian clients. Well, Madam Amel and I posed in
almost everywhere corner of the hotel and have ourselves photographed
until we got tired.
“Is
there any of you named Robert John Donesa?” asked a stranger with a
loud low voice.
“It’s
me,” I said.
“I
am your driver and your ride is ready,” the stranger introduced.
His name is Dasri. We were eventually informed that his mother is a
Filipino from Palawan.
Our
bus schedule is at 12:45 p.m. but it didn’t arrive on time, thus,
we have to wait. Dasri was in a hurry and had to leave us. He told us
not to go anywhere because the bus may arrive at any time. He warned
us to be always on the alert because Malaysian bus drivers do not
care about tourists. They will just drive the bus away without notice
leaving some tourists behind. Soon, we realized that he’s right.
Our
bus driver is reckless. At one stopover, while some of our companions
were at the rest room, he immediately drove the bus away leaving some
passengers behind. I was just at the bus’ doorstep taking pictures,
while Dean Reynaldo C. Laxamana and VP Amelia Z. Macapagal were just
few steps away. Our companions frantically asked him to stop the bus.
If that was his way of telling the tourists not to dillydally at
stopovers, then that was not proper! In another instance, he just
drove the bus away with the door of baggage compartment at the side
of the bus still open. Luckily, Dean Rey noticed it and immediately
called his attention. But that was totally dangerous! Just like in
the Philippines, Malaysian drivers are threats to tourism industry.
The
rest of the afternoon was spent land traveling. We were on the bus
the whole afternoon traversing through fields of palm trees. Palm
trees are all over Malaysia. I was told that this palm will be the
future source of oil. Malaysia will soon be the next Saudi Arabia. I
remembered I saw some patches of palm plantations like these in
Sultan Kudarat in Mindanao.
Morbid
Dreams at Singapore
Arriving
at Singapore, we have to unload our heavy pieces of luggage and carry
them through the immigration counters. Then we have to load it again
to the same bus with the same reckless driver. This is a totally
tiresome process.
We
were billeted at the Orchard Grand Court Hotel. Oh don’t be misled.
It’s not grand. Having a semi-royal experience at Concorde, Orchard
Grand Court Hotel is ordinary. I spelled the hotel’s name
completely because at Orchard Road and it surroundings, there are
hundreds of hotels which bears the name ‘Orchard.’ The front desk
and receiving area are very small and are located at the back of a
restaurant! I like the tall ‘Ming’ jars that adorned the hotel
lobby, though. They are taller than humans. I have always been joking
about bringing home one or two of them. The hotel is located at Lloyd
St., one of the smaller and lesser known streets near Orchard Road.
Our
tour guide knew that we will be out for the night for some souvenir
shopping at Lucky Plaza along Orchard Road. Because it was late, he
will not be around to fetch us. So, he challenged us for some
adventure. He told us to walk from Lucky Plaza to Orchard Grand
Hotel. We took the challenge. We were lost. We walked back and forth
the Orchard road and its surroundings to find Lloyd St. We found our
way only after several trial and errors. All tired. To the oldies, it
was too much to be called an exercise.
Resting in our
rooms, VP Carmelita P. Sotto called me and Dean George Granados to
discuss a sexual harassment case filed by a group of students against
an instructor. Wow, VP Amelia Z. Macapagal brought a complaint with
her during the trip! She brought work with her? Oh no! So, after a
tiresome day, we went back to serious work – a morbid and
well-described sexual harassment case.
And
this sent us to sleep. Morbid dreams!
Alone
in a Group at the Universal Studios, December
9, 2013
The next day,
December 9, we went to the Universal Studios. Though, it’s my 2nd
time in this grand attraction, it always felt like the first. I
always have that child-like excitement. At the entrance, I
immediately grabbed some maps and distributed it to my companions. I
suggested that they always use the map to minimize wastage of time
and to maximize enjoyment of the rides. I’m off for some extreme
rides. I insisted to my younger companions, the Deans (Rey, Dino and
George), to go for the extreme rides. But they were afraid their
blood pressures might shoot up. The oldies made their own itinerary.
Of course, I cannot be with them, they move slowly.
Haay!
The thought of high blood pressure also limited my choices. But my
insatiable thirst for extreme adventure prevailed. I eventually
veered away from the Deans to enjoy the ‘Return of the Mummy,’
alone. I love being alone. I don’t have to queue long lines as
there is a special lane for those who are solo. Rudyard Kipling once
wrote: “He travels the fastest who travels alone.”
The
‘Return of the Mummy’ was hell of a ride. I am used to extreme roller-coaster rides where coaches steeply fall. But this one, the
ride is in total darkness, mummies come back to life and coaches fall
straight into the abyss. Shout all you can but there’s no stopping
the mummy from ‘taking your soul!’ This is an attraction I cannot
resist. The Egyptian-inspired buildings and massive statues are also
sights to behold. I also wanted to ride the ‘Battle Star
Galactica,’ but to my dismay, it was out of order. I skipped the
‘Transformers.’ I thought it’s boring or too youthful.
By
nighttime, we were at the Orchard Road again for food and shopping. I
bought a Merlion statue for $50. I was so happy with my find until
Sir George called my attention to some similar statues at half the
price. I ignored him and his banters. I developed a new personal
rule: When buying something I like, there must be no regrets.
It
was late when went back to our hotel tired. The small unwelcoming
lobby failed to bother me. The giant ‘Ming’ jars greeted my weary
soul. The room is big, nice but not grand. Sleep is the next thing on
my mind.
Touring
and Shopping at Singapore, December
10, 2013
Our
last day in Singapore, December 10, 2013, was a busy day. In the
morning, we went to the gardens by the bay. The gardens are one of the
newest attractions in Singapore. (Well, Singapore is noted for
something new every year.) The gardens feature several biomes. I am
lucky to have climbed some parts of the Cordilleras and to have seen
the highland vegetation in its natural setting. Although they were
able to simulate the mountain environment, nothing substitutes a
natural setting.
A
Singapore tour will not be complete without going to its Chinatown.
So, we went to the Chinatown. A local Chinese tour guide once
remarked: “This Chinatown is not a real. A real Chinatown should be
dirty!” For the third time, I visited the Buddha Tooth Relic
Temple. The temple, as always, continues to fascinate me. Despite the
many renovations it had undergone over the years, I can still feel
its holiness. There, I met many Buddhas: Manjusri, Akasagarbha,
Avalokitesvara, Samantabadra, Maha-shtama-prapta, Amitabha, Acala,
Vairocana, among others. The images were just replicas. The original
ones were under restoration. The colors, sights and sounds of the
temple almost made me want to stay there and become a monk. And even
though it’s my third time, I still made a wish which I now forgot.
Then,
we braved the scourging afternoon sun to shop for some souvenirs
around the vicinity of the temple. The seniors did not join us; they
would rather rest at the van. The district is very historic; the
souvenir shops were housed in buildings dating back to British
colonization. The buildings are now protected by law. Though the
interiors may be renovated, the façade must be retained. There are
also historical markers from here and there detailing the ordeals of
the pioneering Chinese migrants in Singapore.
My
companions, Deans Rey, George and Dino, shopped till their last
Singaporean dollar. Almost all thingamabobs bearing a Merlion can
pass for a souvenir. They bought t-shirts, bells, key chains, nail
clippers, perfumes, etc. Our tour guide did not inform us in advance
that he will bring us to Bugies Road, a haven for cheap souvenirs.
Many of the things we bought at Chinatown and Orchard Road can be
bought at Bugies Road for half the price.
The
unwritten rule in Singapore is that one should not be a compulsive
buyer. Before buying, one should first make a survey. Souvenir items
may be priced excessively by some unscrupulous deceitful merchants.
And my piece of advice: if one already bought an item, never try to
find a similar item in a different store and compare prices. You
might get disappointed. If you like an item, then buy it and never
look back.
At
Bugies, my companions ate at a Thai restaurant, the Tastebud
Foodcourt. The food looked good but I am still full eating just about
anything my companions shared – dried fruits, junk food, chocolate
fudge, baked goods and whatever. The restaurant’s noisy cashier
irritated me. She claimed there were six food orders but there were
only five payments. But when double-checked, there were only five
food orders and so she was wrong. But her mouth wouldn’t stop, her
ramblings of unintelligible words sounded as if there was an attempt
to defraud her. I murmured Filipino words telling her that I would
want to buy her food booth and dismiss her.
Then, we
prepared to go home. By two o’ clock we were at the airport waiting
for our flight back. We were two hours ahead of time so there was
nothing to do but to enjoy the sights and sounds of the airport. We
already ran out of dollars, not even for a cup of coffee. George,
aching for one, invited me for a cup of coffee. He used his credit
card to pay for it. The
airport is decorated with flowers. I can’t help but take photos of
the orchids. Exhausted, happy to be home. It was almost midnight when I reached home.
