When Boys Become Husbands and Fathers

My father was born to a generation when having males in the family was given such a premium. Of 10 siblings, he had merely 3 sisters and the rest were brothers. Surely, it made my grandfather proud to have so many sons to carry his name. And when it was my Dad's turn, he fretted that he can only rely on Manong Butch's line to continue his surname. But Tudoy took a long time coming. Poor Manong Butch was already under so much pressure and people were speculating about his teenage-onset of mumps. My Dad was getting impatient for a grandson, although Angel, the first grandchild courtesy of Ate Annette, was already around. One day, I replied to my Dad's chagrin, "so what's the problem..I'll just have a kid out-of-wedlock so he can carry your last name." That shut him up for a time.

Finally, Tudoy came along, followed by the twins, Michael and Mark, c/o Ate Marie. Daddy didn't mind trekking to Pasig back when it was a no man's land, or flying to faraway San Carlos City in Negros if only to see his grandsons. Be careful what you wish for they say, and when Roy followed a few years later, and then Marben came along, and finally Arneil arrived...Daddy finally had a dream come true. Manong Butch came through for him after all!

Sadly,our father didn't see Gayle's own contribution to the bunch. He was several years in the ground already when Troy and Tristan came along. But oh, I can imagine what delight it would have been for him to see his grandsons, spoiling them with toy guns, toy cars or whatever games he thinks "appropriate" for boys albeit "un-politically correct" nowadays.

Fortunately, this generation of young boys grew up in an environment "dominated" by women. There were just simply too many females in the family, you see. Besides the grandma and the mom, they were around too many Titas and aunts, yayas and maids, cousins and playmates who were girls. So I do hope they learned a thing or two about dealing with females.

Recently, my nephew Tudoy married his long-time GF, Hani, while Michael became a new father to a baby boy. From what I know, both Tudoy and Michael are comfortable in the kitchen. Ate Rhoda even has a story of Tudoy knowing how to sew back a button on her blouse. But if the women in the family had their way, our ideas about what a good husband and father is, would be our greatest legacy to these boys. Remember that spouses or life- partners are to be loved and respected always, never to be hit or taken for granted; while children are to be loved and cared for to the point of much self-sacrifice; providing for their needs is of utmost importance, so strive to give them the best. Even if boys-will-be-boys, and you will have your fun and crazy days, a time will come when you need to grow up and be the men you were reared to be - husbands and fathers we could be proud of.

Indeed, behind every man is a woman who helped him become who he is. And if he turns out to be a rotten scoundrel of a man, well...that could be some woman's fault too - probably his own mother! ;)

Asia's Zoos

Much like Singapore, whose name “Singapura” meant “Lion City” after a Sumatran prince saw a lion-like creature upon landing on its shores, Surabaya is also a place that got its name in reference to some animal. For Surabaya, it’s actually two – “Sura” from “shark” and “buwaya”, the crocodile. Some ancient Javanese myth had these two creatures fighting over the territory, so the story goes. As such, a giant sculpture of a shark and a crocodile in deadly combat grace the entrance of one of Asia’s biggest, and oldest zoos located in Eastern Java.

I had always made it a point to put local zoos on my list of tourist attractions to visit during my travels abroad. I already got to visit the Singapore Zoo and Night Safari in July 2006 after attending a Legal Pluralism conference. In August 2006, I went on a month-long Applied Study Program on Sexual Diversity in Indonesia. While my first time in Java in June 2006 mainly kept me in the Western area of Jakarta and Depok, this 28-day training would bring me to Surabaya which was in East Java. Besides being known as a popular international port area and playing a significant role in the independence of Indonesia from the Dutch, Surabaya also had the honor of having a historically significant zoo.

Established back when the European Colonials still lorded over much of Asia, it was meant to have the most extensive collection of animals in Indonesia. Because it is already old, some of the cages and animal’s living spaces still seemed cramped compared to most modern-day zoos. But the actual area the zoo covered was one of the largest I’ve ever seen and my legs ached from walking the distance from one enclosure to another.

Surabaya Zoo had the usual “large” animals - elephants, giraffes, zebras, camels, ostriches, a couple of lions, some tigers, a cheetah, Malaysian Sun Bears, as well as some gorillas and monkeys. But there were at least two creatures I needed to see because they were indigenous to Indonesia; and that was the orangutan from Borneo, and the Komodo Dragon from Papua.

Orangutans were said to be even smarter than gorillas and could communicate with humans better. They had facial expressions and their hands can grasp you like a real person. But the adult orangutan I saw looked so depressed and turned away as we approached to view it. Komodo Dragons, on the other hand, are notorious “meat-eaters” that will not spare humans if given the chance. Their bites are lethal because their saliva is full of bacteria that can cause infections on a wound. If you don’t get eaten right away by a “pack” of dragons, you can probably walk away but you won’t have much time left. The Komodo Dragon is a “patient” predator and will wait until you get so weak, you can’t fight it off anymore as it begins to feast on your flesh.

A few years later, after having visited our own Avilon Zoo in Rizal, I would say it was the only local zoo that could rival its foreign counterparts both in size and its menagerie of animals. It was only in Avilon that I got to see the Malaysian tapir, a capybara, an Australian wallaby, a meerkat, a gibbon, and an Indonesian fresh-water crocodile with a very narrow snout.

Like all modern zoos, it considered bigger spaces for the animals. Instead of steel bars and wire fences all the time, deep moats were built around their living areas to separate the animals from the viewing public. At least, this gives the animals a less “claustrophobic” environment. There are also more of those “petting zoo” features which Manila Zoo also offers. At the ponds, you can throw the “giant” Amazon river fishes some raw chicken heads and watch them scramble for the food. You can also feed the gibbons and orangutans by throwing them a few bananas over the moat. You can have a hawk and a falcon perch on you. You can hold the boas and pythons and have your picture taken. You can even have a photo with a “smiling” orangutan named “Trixie”.

For the long drive outside Metro Manila via the San Mateo national road, Avilon Zoo is worth the trip, even with the rather “pricey” entrance fee. For kids who have seen Manila Zoo, the Ninoy Aquino Parks and Wildlife, and even the Malabon Zoo, Avilon would be quite a treat.

Speaking of “petting zoos” and safaris, the Philippines already has many to boast about such as Subic’s (Zoobic) safari. Yet it is ironic that I saw my first safari in another country, particularly the Night Safari in Singapore. After a women’s rights follow-up training in Bandung in 2007, my good friend and officemate, Atty. Dash and I decided to stay awhile in Indonesia and do a little more sight-seeing. Through her distant relative based in Jakarta, we got to visit Bogor’s famous safari.

Bogor is just outside Jakarta, and like Bandung, it’s slightly elevated location gives it a rather cool atmosphere much like Tagaytay. Bogor’s highly popular safari allows you to bring your own vehicles to the track, and you can get close enough to actually feed the animals from your car windows. But given the dirt roads you must traverse, it is advisable that you bring a four-wheel drive. You can also purchase some fruits and vegetables from the vendors lining the road right before the entrance. Hawking their wares, they remind you that you need something to feed the animals with.

It’s quite amazing seeing these animals approach the vehicles and “demand” to be fed. The singular experience of actually having wild animals such as zebras, impalas and gazelles eat “right off your hand” is incomparable. Sometimes they even continue following the cars to ask for food. However, at the enclosure for the “big cats”, we were advised to keep our windows closed and not get out of our vehicles. A gamekeeper armed with a tranquilizer gun is on stand-by and sat in his own jeep a few feet from the animals. An adult tiger cut in front of our vehicle, simply taking its time in crossing the road, as lions lounge away at their treehouse. Seeing them up close like this was indeed a little scary considering their size and strength. Bogor will always be my “ultimate” safari experience!

At my age, I am still quite fascinated by zoos and the animals one can see there. Wherever I go, zoos and safaris will always be on my itinerary. That’s why I can never forgive myself for missing out on the Giant Panda Bear at the Beijing Zoo in May 2007. Oh well…maybe next time.

Of Creatures Big and Small

Just the other night, I watched a TV show that featured the on-going “dog trading” in Cavite. These poor dogs were caught in the Southern Tagalog areas and sold for “asocena” meat in the North. I so pitied the poor dogs whose snouts were tied shut, front legs broken and tied back to prevent escape. My only consolation is that this illegal operation has been busted and the offenders will be prosecuted under the Animal Welfare Act. For all my work with marginalized sectors and special causes, animal rights is something I shall be adding to my agenda soon, although I already am a self-avowed animal lover.

My fascination with animals began early in my life. From the day my Dad gave me my first puppy named “Bracie,” there would be a succession of dogs and puppies that followed. Except for Ate Annette, who at some point kept a rabbit and two Guinea Pigs, plus that wayward turtle that Manong Butch’s fraternity brother left in our garden, no one else would surpass my penchant for keeping pets. Even Manong Snokum who kept three different sized aquaria for a time, never went beyond dogs and tropical fishes. But my affinity for creatures great or small transcended all theirs, and by the time I was in second year high school, I had my trusty Japanese Spitz, Julie, an aquarium of tropical fishes, some white mice, a couple of hamsters, and a few pigeons. So my weekends were busily spent bathing my dog Julie, washing and cleaning the different aquaria and cages. The only other concerns that took me away from my pets, besides school work, were my books and movies. So yes, I was kind of an introvert back then.

This menagerie would eventually be reduced as I left for college. But my Mom took over my aquarium and Julie while I was away. She said my pets made for great conversation pieces with her amigas. But as soon as I was back from University, my animal collection would include two cats which would keep away the giant rats from the creek that plagued us. Over time, an occasional white mice or rabbit would be given to me by friends or neighbors, but only dogs became “staple” pets at our home as I started work and entered law school. Even when I left home a couple of years later, I would always yearn for a pet to take care of. And that would be an additional qualification for my partner – that she would be an animal lover as well.

I actually have some interesting anecdotes about my childhood pets. Julie, my Japanese Spitz, actually “babysat” my white mice and hamsters when I cleaned their cages. I would leave my mice and hamsters running around on my bed, and if they were about to fall off, Julie would gently take them in her mouth and put them back in the middle of the bed. When I got back, they would all still be there, with Julie watching over them. Julie, was with us for a good ten years or so. Some of my high school and college friends would be familiar with her name. My whole family loved Julie, and it took a while before I had a dog like her again. And that would be my late Dachshund, Hannahgirl.

Singaporean Sojourn

2006 was an exceptionally difficult year for me, and I was only momentarily distracted from my pains by the occasional trips that came my way via international trainings. The first of these was in June through a legal pluralism conference in Indonesia. An old friend who worked in the field of alternative lawyering had regularly heard about it, but this was the first time that “gendered perspectives in law” was to be an actual panel. We both threw our hats in, sending abstracts in the area of sexual orientation law. When our acceptance letters arrived, they even came with a full scholarship. Our plane fare, accommodations and lodgings were to be fully sponsored and reimbursed!

I was both excited and afraid. It had been more than a decade since I last traveled outside the country – at least 15 years in fact. And there would be some plane transfers during a stopover in Singapore. Of course that shouldn’t be a problem since I could read and speak English, but I was really, really poor in navigation and in getting directions. Plus, I would be traveling all alone this time. My friend was also accepted to a special pre-conference training and would be leaving ahead of me. I was following him to Indonesia two days later.

My problems were slightly eased when the office allowed me to go “on official time” to this international conference. Hence, I got to have an official (red) passport and free travel tax at the airport. But I had to get tips from my stewardess sister about other airport decorum – immigration requirements, terminal fees and check-in procedures especially for baggage. The tedious security checks and other pre-departure rituals seemed simple enough until I got into my seat on the plane. On the flight, all I had to deal with was airline food and the claustrophobia-inducing toilet.

The minute we landed in Singapore, I knew I was on another planet. It was too clean and orderly. And the airport was HUGE! Changi airport was really one of those terminals where you can actually set up residence. Besides the many restaurants, shops, lounging areas with cable TV and movies, there were massage chairs for weary travelers, free internet service for the extremely busy and even a gym with a shower room for those with enough time to kill. All this I learned from the map I got from the information booths. I mean, I am just in the airport and I already need a map? I haven’t even been outside the terminal to see the rest of Singapore!

While I was thoroughly amused by the different indoor gardens they had set up for a little “natural and outdoorsy” atmosphere (there was a cactus, orchid, and fern garden), I began to realize that such a big space would also mean longer walks to farther departure areas. Of course, they already made this easier by providing “walka-lators” (the horizontal equivalent of escalators) for passengers en route to their departure gates. I had seen, and used, one these before in Kai Tak airport in Hong Kong and thought they were just for the elderly or the extremely lazy. But in Singapore’s Changi airport, one would be smart to take advantage of this contraption.

As if that wasn’t enough to awe me, I was instructed to ride the “train” for the other terminal where I was supposed to get my connecting flight. Take note, it wasn’t a bus or a shuttle, but a high-speed train on a real railway system connecting the two terminals. I walked, got on the “walka-lators”, tried both the stairs and elevators, before finally boarding the train which will take me to the other terminal.

Eventually, I managed to get on my flight for Jakarta. I was somehow comforted by the thought that on the way back, I would be traveling with my old friend, Gary, and meeting up with my Mom and stewardess sister in Singapore. Problem was, my Mom and sister had booked flights and accommodations already, while my friend and I only had our return tickets via Jakarta-Singapore-Manila with delayed flights. But we were assured there were many backpacker hostels and really cheap bed-and-breakfasts in Singapore.

Three days of the conference passed like a blur to me. From Jakarta international airport, we were whisked by our student guides to Depok, an area just outside the capital. We were cooped up at the University of Indonesia (UI) campus both for the conference and lodgings, so I didn’t really get to see much, although it did remind me a lot about my own alma mater, the University of the Philippines in Los Banos. And except for a quick pasalubong shopping spree in one of Jakarta’s biggest malls, that was as much of Indonesian culture that I was able to soak up at the time.

Meanwhile, my stewardess sister, Giselle was already preparing to visit Sentosa Island. Unbeknownst to us, my Mom had her own contacts in Singapore and was also making plans to see them. Besides shopping, our mother had a mind to visit some friends from our parish.

Gary and I arrived in Singapore late in the evening and discovered the free airport shuttle only drops off travelers near the big hotels like Raffles. Since we also didn’t realize it was the Singapore Holiday Shopping Spree week, the really cheap places were all fully-booked. Fortunately, the lady at the airport information desk was really helpful and found us reasonable lodgings for our limited budget. Interestingly, it was in the red light district.

So the adventurous spirit in Gary and me kicked in; we believed it won’t be so bad. It would mean the area would be still alive and kicking even in the late night. And given its 24-hour nature, surely there would be some really cheap eating establishments as well.

True enough, the streets were still littered with people when we arrived past midnight. At the reception, we saw couples coming and going, alighting and boarding the elevators to the privacy of their rooms. Once, a pair of Asian-looking girls came in, looked at us and started talking in Tagalog. “Sige na, kunin mo na yung isa o…”, the older one said, gesturing at poor old Gary. It was then we realized the truth behind the rumors about domestics in Singapore moonlighting in the skin trade on their days-off. I was both saddened and shamed by the hard realities of daily life of fellow Filipinos abroad.

The next day, we rode the famous inner-city trains and got a view of the rest of Singapore. We met up with my family at their swanky hotel beside a nice park. Even with the clear use of infrastructure and industry by the Singaporean government, they were equally deliberate about keeping some “green space”. Besides the parks and gardens intentionally inserted within housing and business areas, street pavements were lined with trees and shrubs to maintain that “environmental” look.

I realized that for such order and cleanliness to have been possible, the Singaporeans would have to be so “disciplined” as a people. That wouldn’t be so difficult in a country where autocracy and dictatorship was a by-word for many years. They can even attribute their apparent economic success to that kind of leadership as well.

There were at least three things we needed to see in Singapore – the aquarium, the zoo and the botanical garden. We took a cab for Sentosa and rode the free tour bus around the island. First stop was the famed Underwater World which rivaled Hong Kong’s own Ocean Park aquaria. But while Ocean Park had ceiling to floor glass windows to view the various sea creatures (at least that was what I saw in 1990), Singapore’s Underwater World actually features a long glass tube where tourists are moved by a walkalator to view various fishes and sea mammals swimming above and around. Their collection of water animals was also quite extensive, including sea horses, jellyfishes, squids, cuttlefish and other crustaceans. My Giselle, who used to dream about becoming a marine biologist, absolutely loved it and was in complete awe. Last time I saw her get so excited was when we went to Bais City, Negros Oriental in 2005 and she saw live dolphins. My Mom, on the other hand, was quite fixated on the deep-sea, spider-like Giant Crab. As she stared lustily after it, I knew other things were on her mind since crabs were her favorite seafood after all.

The nearest attraction after the aquarium was Fort Siloso. Much like our Corregidor Island, Singapore’s Sentosa Island played quite a role during the Second World War. At Fort Siloso are remnants of the old encampment, it’s guns and cannons, and look-out towers. Inside are various photos of World War II as it happened in the Asian region - the battling Japanese and American soldiers, the European and Asian civilians caught in the crossfire and imprisoned in the underground tunnels, the ships and aircraft carriers that dominated these waters. There is even a life-size diorama of how the Japanese Navy surrendered to the joint Allied Command that retook Singapore and other Pacific islands. Although it was quite interesting to know about such historical facts, it was too much like our own Corregidor for anything else to impress us.

Somewhere along the way, we got that token visit and photo session with the Merlion and the Carlsberg Tower before Mama started acting up because she was already getting tired. She insisted we take a taxi back to the city proper instead of the cable car or the shuttle bus. Fortunately, Giselle and I were still in high spirits and we managed to visit the Botanical Gardens. Being graduates of UP Los Banos, we greatly appreciated the “nature trek” through the gardens which had a great display of orchids and other ornamental plants, as well as the herb and spice gardens which featured “basic” ginger, garlic, and onions, as well as basil, oregano, sage, tarragon, rosemary and thyme. The Botanical Gardens covered a great area and except for a few photos and a walk by the lagoon, we had to rush off to see Singapore’s famed zoo. Since it was along way off, we got there pretty late and missed the last tour.

By some happy coincidence, however, we were right on time for the Night Safari. Much like our own Subic (Zoobic) Safari, there was a ride that allowed you to get close enough to the animals, provided one did not get off the vehicle. The Night Safari of course featured most nocturnal animals, and once more Giselle got so excited. There were some big cats and predatory birds, like that panther which flashed its eyes at us as we passed by, and that big owl swooping down on a small rodent that will serve as its meal. Meanwhile, we also caught some animals during their feeding time and watched them drink from their waterholes.

By the time we finished, we weren’t very interested in the cultural show that followed and simply wanted to go back to our hotels to rest. Giselle finally caught up with Mama at their hotel after dinner, since Mama had finished visiting her own parish friends. On the train, I was already falling asleep on my feet, so Gary left me at our humble accommodations to do some “Singapore nightlife” by himself. I spared myself that since we had an early flight back for Manila the next day.

Indeed it was a hurried, and harried, tour of Singapore after all. But it had served its purpose well – some international traveling and quality time with my Mom and sister. And for a moment, I was taken away from the realities of my troubles. It was a “sojourn” in every sense of the word.

Quezon City's "Hidden" Treasures

Lately, I’ve rediscovered my penchant for the outdoors. First, it was just because of my need for exercise and the close proximity of the La Mesa Ecopark to where I now live. The clean air had been good for my lungs and I haven’t been having asthma attacks in quiet a while. All the greenery also reminded me of the University of the Philippines campuses where I studied – both in Los Banos and Diliman, where I used to enjoy long walks whether alone or with company.

Except for those college years in UPLB, I have lived in Quezon City for most of my life. It’s only now that I realized how fortunate I was to be living in Quezon City. Besides being good for exercise, QC parks can also be cheap alternatives for other recreational activities, especially these days when “hanging out at the mall” can be very expensive. Movie theater admission fees are now worth five times what they used to cost, mere “window-shopping” eventually makes you buy something anyway, and to get seats to rest your feet, you need to eat something at a restaurant or even just the food court. For simple economic considerations, “free” entertainment seems the better option.

In UP, you can jog, walk your dog, or cycle around the Sunken Garden or track and field oval provided you bring your own equipment. There are also a lot of spaces for some amateur badminton, Frisbee throwing or other ball games in the area behind the Oblation and the Lagoon. At the QC Circle, there are bikes for rent – for adults or kids, singles or with a sidecar provision for passengers. There used to be a roller skating rink too, a few decades ago. Nowadays, teenagers still bring along their in-line skates, skateboards and wave boards there but are no longer restricted to certain areas.

For residents of nearby Kamias, UP and Teacher’s Village, QC Circle boasts of the daily “free” aerobics sessions at its center area near the Quezon Memorial itself. I even heard the latest fitness program includes the “sponsored” ballroom dancing sessions for senior citizens at the different pavilions. Owing to Charito Planas’ initiatives and the QC local government’s support, QC Circle’s “attractions” have also expanded to tiangges, garden shows and various restaurants. Of course, the open areas are perfect for family picnics. Kids can run around and play, while adults can just sit or lie around in the grass. This many UP alumni still do with their families at the Diliman campus, although in QC Circle, there are even modern and safe playgrounds now.

If you are willing to pay a little extra for entrance fees, QC’s most recent development is the “Circle of Fun” amusement center. With the closure of Cubao’s famed “Fiesta Carnival” a few years ago, today’s QC kids have this alternative for their childhood memories. Opened just a few months ago, Circle of Fun has the same reasonably-priced rides and “fun houses” Fiesta Carnival used to boast about. However, the caterpillar rides of my youth have since given way to faster and “cooler” roller coaster rides which can turn upside-down, the spinning cup-and-saucer ride is now more of a complex “octopus” ride, while the “swinging” Ship-Ahoy or Crazy Galleon ride just became bigger and even “crazier”.

Meanwhile, also at the Elliptical Road is the Ninoy Aquino Parks and Wildlife, located between North Avenue and East Avenue, where it has two entrances. The black sun bear of my childhood named “Bruno” is no longer there; neither are the live pawikans or large sea turtles at the center building and the “monkey-eating” eagles (now known as the Philippine eagle) housed at the giant aviary. Renamed “Ninoy Aquino” Parks and Wildlife in the late 80s, it is now home to rescued exotic animals under the care of the DENR’s protected wildlife bureau. Some are neglected “pets” while some are endangered species being smuggled by opportunistic traders.

Besides various sea eagles, parakeets, owls or kuwagos, there are migrating “swamp” birds like herons, storks and egrets called “tiklings”. There are also snakes in various shapes and sizes, and our unique salt-water and fresh-water crocodiles. Occasionally, there are mammals like our local monkeys, deers, and wild boars. Recently, there was a local relative of the squirrel and the civet cat, also a musang and an alamid. And like the La Mesa Ecopark, our indigenous plants and trees there are named and marked, such that walking around is like a biology class, only more fun. They have also expanded the man-made lake, complete with cement benches and a viewing “dock”. It’s now more of a lagoon, but I hear fishing is allowed there.

On the other hand, La Mesa Ecopark is still by far the largest park in QC and the most “modern” in its attractions. It’s main objective is not just preserving the site as a watershed and natural reserve, but also to generate environmental awareness and responsibility among Filipinos, especially Metro Manila residents. It’s main hall or reception area is an Ecocenter where organic products are sold and waste management lectures are given. Just in front of it, beside the Super Ferry-sponsored boating area, is a vermiculture farm and herb garden. Further down, which is actually the entrance to the Ecopark proper, are indigenous trees like narra, acacia, and apitong which usually populating watershed areas for their big roots and expansive foliage. There are also the common fruit-bearing trees like pomelo or suha, coconut, mango and santol trees, interspersed with sturdy mahogany and the colorful “fire tree”. “Bottom-growers” like ferns and grasses also abound, but here each flora and fauna has a purpose, even the birds, bees and butterflies.

What makes the Ecopark more exciting is the additional features it has. Entrepreneurs have been allowed to sponsor the paintball, zipline and wall-climbing activities which private companies utilize as part of their Team-building. Meanwhile, below the long staircase-viewing deck of the dam itself is a fishing area. The old pool is now for pre-arranged functions only, but two new pools are located at the Aquacenter. One is designed to appear like an infinity pool, where its “trimmed” gutters make it safer for kids along with its “invisible” barriers beneath the water line. The other pool is designed for swimming laps and is arranged in lanes, so here is where most of the adults swim. There is also some horseback-riding now along the old fitness trail near the orchidarium, and an ampitheater has been built for other open air events. Of course, the old pavilions are still being rented out for private functions, while there are now some blind masseurs at a tent near the Rent-a-Bike and food stalls area. Although some families still bring their own food for picnics, there are available food items sold at the handful of kiosks dotting the Ecopark proper, including an organic and health food outlet.

For me, besides the regular exercise, I have taken the opportunity to practice some amateur photography as well. I’ve always been partial to taking “nature” photos, and after some striking views of the trees and waterways, animals have proven to be quite interesting subjects too.

So indulge me, as I mix together a few things that presently make my life more bearable - nature-tripping, writing and basic photography.

The Magic of Bali

Almost everyone dreams of going to Bali, that exotic Indonesian island just off East Java. The promise of sun, sea, and surf is the reason most Caucasian tourists are drawn to it. And indeed, for all its worth, IT IS a vacation spot to die for. During the day, one can swim, shop and go sight-seeing. And in the evenings, one can drink, dance, and party all the night long. By some ironic twist of fate, I was lucky enough to visit the place at a time when I was in dire need of some personal healing.

During my Applied Study Program in 2006, an invitation to attend Bali’s annual Queer Film Festival was extended to our Surabaya hosts by the local LGBT organizers. But the short trip was by no means a “pleasure trip”; it was business-as-usual for us interns-trainees. Our three-day visit would be jam-packed with activities - film showings including an exclusive “private” screening of a documentary, visits to local gay groups working on HIV/AIDS advocacy, and some mentoring sessions from Dede Oetomo of Gaya Nusantara.

Besides, being the only female and lesbian in our group, I was really getting fed up with all the testosterone from hanging out with straight and gay men all the time. Thus, I specifically requested our lesbian host in Bali to introduce me to a nice, English-speaking lesbian who could show me around the island’s LGBT hotspots to help me with my project study. True to Indonesian-style “hospitality”, she succeeded in hooking me up with a young lesbian based in Bali. I didn’t realize then that she would play such a vital role in my memories of Bali.

While we had other companions from Surabaya, they were taking the cheaper, more tedious land-trip with ferry transfers, much like our local RORO (“roll-on, roll-off”) system. At the time, a weird phenomenon was occurring somewhere in the outskirts of Surabaya. A local oil company building its pipeline had punctured some natural underground tunnel, and made hot mud spew out. The hole continued to emit lava-like material even after several days already, and with no signs that it would ever stop, it has started to contaminate the nearby communities’ water supply and waterways. Travelers and motorists have been diverted to a different path since the lava flow had also affected a national highway. Our poor friends had to take a longer route that would take them almost a whole day’s travel.

So my group took a domestic Garuda flight instead, shortening our travel time to a maximum of an hour or two. Flying over the rest of Java, there was a great view of one of Indonesia’s active volcanoes. Just like Kawa Puti in Western Java, I was unimpressed only because I was Filipino and we had Taal and Mayon volcanoes to be so proud about. Nonetheless, the volcano appeared majestic from above, with small puffs of smoke billowing from its crater to join low-lying clouds.

Arriving in Bali, I wondered about its rather small airport for international tourists. It was like our ordinary domestic airports in the provinces. I thought our international airports in Cebu and Davao were much bigger and at par with modern standards. Then again, their local carriers were also tiny, dragonfly-like contraptions like we have in the Philippines for domestic, inter-island flights, so who am I to judge.

The hotels and beach resorts were off to the coastline still, so we had a bit of a drive to make before we could check into our rooms and refresh ourselves. We were informed in the van that since it is expensive to stay in Bali, we were to share our accommodations with our Gaya Nusantara partners-guides. But because of Indonesian religious and cultural practices, and I was the only female in the group, I was not obliged to share my cottage with anyone. What luck!

Upon checking in, we immediately headed for the famed white sand beaches of Bali. Kuta Beach is a known surfing area for its big waves. Soft, almost powdery, granules under my feet, wind in my hair, I watched the giant waves intermittently rise and rush the shores. For miles on end, the even coastline and coral-less waters stretched as far as my eyes could see. It would really take a while to walk or jog from point of the beach to the other. I didn’t dare try to swim in those crashing waves; instead, I got myself my first henna tattoo from a resident artist on the beach. Some ladies also offered body massages and a combination manicure-pedicure service right there on the beach, but we didn’t have much time anymore as dusk was slowly gathering around us.

Bali’s sunsets are also quite something to see. While sunsets are always ideal to see on the beach, there are just some places on this earth that provide the best views for a setting sun. Watching that orange orb transform the horizon from yellow to orange to hot pink, before falling into a gentle blue-gray and finally, black with wisps of white light, one can just stand there mesmerized, unaware of the passing of the minutes. There is such peace that falls upon everything, and you find yourself letting go of all the day’s troubles, knowing that tomorrow is another day, another opportunity.

After a bit of rest and a quick shower, we were suppose to grab dinner and head to the first screening. But my new lesbian-friend offered to pick me up at our beach resort and take me for dinner at a really famous restaurant.

The restaurant she took me to, Made's Warung, was quite popular with expats and tourists. Their menu offering was extensive and included Western choices. After eating fried tofu, assorted veggies and chicken for days on end, I yearned for something closer to Filipino cuisine. In fact, I desperately missed my pork diet. Asking me what I wanted to eat, I told her that I was dying for some grilled babi. She laughed and explained that Bali is culturally Hindu-dominated, so eating pork is allowed while touching beef is not. After almost three weeks of not having pig’s meat, I finally got my wish. But something about my order still reminded me that I was in Indonesia - the dish was still spicy hot! But this time, instead of creamy, chili-hot much like our Bicolano dishes, this sauce was swimming in chili-infested oil. It was all reminiscent of that spiced-up soy sauce used for wantons and siomais.

The food was still great of course; tasty and delicious. Really yummy, in fact! And the restaurant itself was quite impressive. The atmosphere alone is an ambience worth spending for. Candle-lit tables abound, but were always filled up too quickly. Huts like our bahay kubos were a more private option for dating couples, but this was not so fascinating to me anymore because it was commonplace in Filipino restos and beach resorts. The restaurant also had a fancy bookstore and souvenir shop to browse from while you wait for your dinner, or right after your dessert.

Meanwhile, the Queer Film Festival was being shown in the club strip. Heavy traffic always occurred in the area since the different bars were always filled to the brim with guests and customers. While most of these clubs appear “unisex” or for straights, there are some which are clearly “identified” to be for LGBTs. And while in the Philippines, we have “GROs” and “escorts” that front for our subtle skin trade, in Indonesian bars, bartenders and waiters/waitresses blatantly flirt with you to send a clear message. I would also learn that certain massage services in hotels also “dummy” for the sex industry. Around this time, except for known “bath houses”, I believe spas and massage centers in the Philippines have not yet been popularized enough to double as prostitution dens for LGBT customers.

After the film showing, we went our separate ways as the gay men and MTF transgenders went to the gay bars. I joined our lesbian host at an exclusive party which lasted until the wee hours of the morning. At 3AM, the bars and clubs remained brightly lighted and blaring with music at a distance, while the quiet and darkened beach cottages stood mute to the rhythmic roar of the ocean. Nothing could be more romantic than walking home under the moonlight, skies so clear that each and every star was visible. I slept, physically tired, but deeply comforted. I did not feel so alone or out-of-place anymore.

I woke up to an equally bright morning. The sun shining its warm rays on everything and the day soon became hot and humid. Fortunately, we were driving inland that day, towards the cooler, higher points of the island where we would have a private screening at a film director’s home. We were going to see her documentary entitled “The Last Bissu”, about the Indonesian counterpart of our Filipino babaylan, transgender religious leaders of the olden days which will soon be lost to the oblivion of ancient Indonesian traditions.

Although the drive only seemed like a Manila to Tagaytay travel, the place called Ubud is more like Baguio with its cramped, densely-populated environment and its reputation for being an artists’ haven. A market area had stalls set-up tiangge-style where an assortment of souvenirs were sold - from batik cloths to wayang puppets, to indigenous musical instruments and wooden house decors.

Meanwhile, from the film director’s home, we caught a view of the nearby villages which were still very much agriculture-based. A small community actually had a miniature rice terraces on the hills near a stream bordering their own homes. I guess the villagers knew about making the most of the rainwater before it causes a mudslide or flows into their water source, causing much siltation in their waterways.

On the way back, we took a late lunch at another popular tourist restaurant, Warung Murni. Besides trying out the local cuisine which was heavily-influenced by Indian recipes, we got to eat Balinese style – sitting on cushions and mats beside a low table about two to three inches from the floor inside a native bamboo hut. And I remembered stories my grandmother told me; about the old Ilocano tradition of eating meals before a very low dining table which now seemed to be borne out of our strong Indonesian ancestry.

After a brief shopping spree for souvenirs, we went to a large museum which housed paintings and sculptures of different Hindu gods like elephant-headed Ganesha and multi-armed Kali. A giant mural of the epic story “Ramayana” graced one huge wall. Interestingly, our mentor, Dede pointed out the sculpture by the pond as a depiction of an “intersex god”. The artwork clearly showed a figure with breasts on its chest, as well as obvious male genitalia.

That evening, before another round of film showings, we had a buffet dinner by the beach courtesy of our local LGBT hosts. Lighted by tiki torches all around, chairs and tables were set right on the beach. Food and drinks were in abundance – both Indonesian cuisine and Western choices, so I headed directly for the pork dishes. I ate the sate babi and babi guling quite heartily while watching the new films. After eating, I left early, joined by my new friend. I was totally enjoying the amenities of my beach cottage – the pool, the giant bathtub, the gigantic bed and efficient room service.

The next day, we were meeting up with at least two NGOs working on HIV/AIDS. The Indonesians are not so hypocritical about the skin trade even with their predominantly Muslim culture. They are also not quite so naïve when it came to safe sex practices and HIV/AIDS prevention. Tourist destinations like Bali are hotspots for the sex industry and the government and NGOs are not remiss in their duties about educating the public on STDs and HIV/AIDS. Both information and services are easily accessible, and condoms given out for free are a dime a dozen here.

Our last day in Bali was a “free day” for sight-seeing and shopping. There were some old ruins to see in Tanah Lot, best-buy souvenirs along Poppieslane, and that other fancy restaurant near Jimbaran beach with a breathtaking sunset. There were still so much to do, like bungie jumping and para-gliding, but with so little time left, we nixed those adventure activities.

Taking that last flight out that evening, I finally understood why I fell in love with Bali and the memories I took home with me will certainly last me a lifetime.



Bali Surf

what does it mean

when you miss more

than Bali's sun, sea and surf?

when all you remember

are the waves rushing to shore,

crashing unto the sand..

what does it mean

when a month's worth of memories

consist only of midnight walks

under a moonlit sky and

making love in the pale light of dawn..

you wonder why you miss

her warm breath on your skin,

her essence overwhelming your senses..

when you lost yourself to her scent, her taste..

why does it seem like you are the Ocean

to her Island Paradise,

waters ever urgent, insistent in reaching out

but pulled back each time

only to surge forth once more

why does it feel like

I may never ever leave Bali

or my memories of you..