Our father arrives home once again–we picked him up at the airport one Monday morning.

Our father arrives home once again–we picked him up at the airport one Monday morning.
As the car in front of mine overtook onwards, a weird-looking pedicab emerged in view–a block of text on bright red paint caught my eye enough for me to tailgate this cruising balut vendor.
A balut or balot is a fertilized duck embryo that is boiled and eaten in the shell. It is commonly sold as streetfood in the Philippines.
Source: Balut (egg) on Wikipedia
We see how funny and ingenious our fellow vendors could be (also seen ubiquitously on jeepney decorations).
The transcription:
R3S-Balutan
Fragile
“Distancia Amigo”
Loaded with balut eggs
Sorry po sa kaunting delay!
The English transcription:
R3S-Balutan
Fragile
Distance, my friend
Loaded with balut eggs
Sorry for the slight delay!
Here’s a photo of Wild River Disco taken on April 27, 2011.
Anti-human trafficking agents of the National Bureau of Investigation (NBI) have rescued 16 girls, four of them minors, in a popular Pasay City disco bar known for its lewd shows recently.
Tempo
What’s really efficient–getting stuck in traffic on a short route or going through the long intestinal insides of the city?
That yummy taste when you’ve got a buy 1 take 1 cheeseburger deal? Yes, it’s the same banana peel that gets a comedy laugh when you slip because of it.
Morning people notice this–shirtless men walking on the streets to buy gel or something and women carrying towels also walking on the streets.
I’ve learned to play the guitar practicing the song, “Line to Heaven” by Introvoys. It’s a very easy D-A-G-A said my cousin.
Remember that time when all you need is water from the tap? Then a corpse got stuck in one of Manila Water’s pipelines.
Once, I’ve used Ajax bar soap on my skin because I took a bath at the laundry area.
Just like roses, rice have come to us in different colors.
When we were kids, the best stage we’d really like balloons taken home by mom from parties was when they’re already hovering mid-air.
Some people, they do not learn the meaning of life–they realize it. I, on the other hand, realized the meaning of couch potato during my six-month stay in our house which turned into my parent’s house after graduation. I was being rooted to the couch sleeping at 4 AM and waking up for lunch.
I was told once to never trust anyone with the name Ricky or Randy.
It’s harder and harder to get up at six in the morning. It’s already cold minus the rainy weather.
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Where did these flowerpot decorations come from?
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The rain fell big drops that could hurt heads. It’s a relief when you’re already inside a vehicle unlike when you’re still waiting to commute by the roadside wearing a cotton jacket and holding an umbrella for one.
The company umbrella Christmas giveaway has a purpose after all.
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In some building vicinities they put spikes around their flowerpots or anywhere people could sit and take a nap all day.
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I’m travelling back in time when a security guard catches someone testing different variants of deodorants before going to work. He waits for the mall to open at ten, walks by the cologne section and purposely catches the attention of a salesman to let him try that new Polo scent.
Since the laundry shop I frequent swindled me of my clothes (I went back to find out the clothes were still dirty-stacked), I switched to a cheap-looking laundry shop — only twenty-three per kilo compared to twenty-five. Beside a hair salon, it looked like it had no dryer that used LPG (liquefied petroleum gas); it is rainy season, seemed like I would be caught by not-properly-dried clothes. My hunch became true; a pair of pants were also missing. I planned to get back at them — I would send several pieces of clothes, I would insert packets of red and blue dye into the pockets so if they mix it with clothes of other customers (which they shouldn’t be doing), dead meat!
Filipino Translation:
Sapagkat ang labahan na lagi kong pinupuntahan ay winantutri ako nang pitong araw (bumalik ako at nakatambak pa rin ang mga damit), lumipat ako sa isang pipitsugin na labahan — bente-tres kada kilo lang kumpara sa bente-singko. Tabi ng parlor, mukhang walang pangtuyo na gumagamit ng gasul; tag-ulan pa naman, mukhang madadale ako ng amoy-kulob na damit. Tama ang hinala ko; kulang pa ng isang pantalon. Balak kong gumanti — magpapalaba ako ng ilang pirasong damit, sisiksikan ko ng jobus na pula at asul ang mga bulsa para kung maghalo sila ng damit ng ibang tao (na dapat ‘di nila ginagawa), patay!
Here are some unrelated photos of the morning:
This was my second time to vote for this country’s president. In 2004, I placed my bet on GMA because she was cute.
I was watching TV before the election day. Not excited to vote at all. Why would I be? At first I was caught between Noy!Noy! and Gibo then between Gibo and Gordon; never saw a single Ja-Ja-Ja-Jamby commercial (thanks, god) but saw a Jinggoy commercial (heads horribly morphing into other heads) in the bus. Only the last minute before I slept did I think of checking my assigned precinct. COMELEC’s Online Precinct Finder was down so I used Google Precinct Finder. I was assigned to the same precinct as before — Ladislao Diwa Elementary School.
The rooms were segregated by barangay. The line towards our room was fairly normal even if we already got there at around 8 A.M. The heat was scorching, as usual, so the line created a gap — other people chose to stay in the shade rather than get roasted alive. There was an instance where an adult couple or magulang pretended to be looking for their names on the list tacked to the door — they stayed on the line as if they were ahead of a dozen fall-in-liners. The style.
I and my parents were behind the man reading a tabloid; he was approached by his companion and joked that he might as well go ahead and vote since he was already a senior citizen. The old man silently laughed as he was short of several years to senior citizenship.
The line wasn’t moving for fifteen minutes. People were already doing all sorts of things — hands in their pockets; fingers in their booger holes; imaginary drawings by their tiptoes; I, on the other hand, strolled around with my camera hanging by my shoulder. I peeked through the wooden jalousies of a classroom to see the voters keenly choosing which candidates to vote or maybe they were just keenly shading those tiny circles.
Cavite City belongs to Region IV-A which is also known as CALABARZON (provinces of Cavite, Laguna, Batangas, Rizal, and Quezon). There are close to 64,000 registered voters in Cavite City according to Google Precinct Finder. Two of them were not on the list; we bumped into my uncle and his wife who were walking out of the precinct looking disappointed. They were upset that their names were not on the list even if they voted in 2004 National Election. There might have been mix-ups of voters and their assigned precincts.
This was the first automated election in the country. Before, you had to cast your vote by writing the name of your chosen candidate and drop the ballot into the golden yellow ballot box. Now, all the names of the candidates were printed out — you just had to shade the circle beside the candicate of your choice. Some people might put a check on the circle and some might jot a dot so the government and several news networks launched campaigns to educate the public on the correct way of casting votes.
It was a good thing for the senior citizens to have fast lanes. Most of them who voted were accompanied by adults or children — anyone who could assist them in walking through crowds to reading the names of candidates.
It was my turn after an hour and a half. The ballot was a long paper which awkwardly drooped to my lap as I awkwardly sat in a little kid’s classroom chair. Up to this point, I was pointing my marker to Gibo and Gordon, to and fro. As I shaded my choice, I noticed how easy it was to fill the circle with ink. The Smartmatic marker had a jagged-tip; with just three short strokes, there was no turning back.
I repeatedly counted if I already had twelve senators in my lineup; having more than twelve would invalidate my other votes in that category. For the local candidates, I was only here in Cavite City during weekends; I missed all the fuss of candidates campaigning, riding their vehicles and waving while their jingly-jangly campaign jingles were playing in the foreground — I mostly guessed my bets for city councilors.
We were done voting in two hours. The area near the exit was peppered with flyers. Voters done with their businesses were still hanging out — maybe excited and waiting for the results. As I walked out, I left the immediate memory of the election and hoped that tomorrow would be a new day.