Posts Tagged "Ilocos"
holy week memories
Somebody from Cebu dropped a message saying she and her friends or colleagues just read my article that was published in Youngblood (the one about how I met a stranger on a bus) and she requested for a photo of Mr. Stranger. It has been my personal rule not to post our photos, especially the cheesy ones because I’m generally a shy person (my friends will club me on the head saying this, but it’s true).
But since nostalgia and longing have been bothering me for quite some time, I decided to post some of Mike’s photos here when we were in Ilocos last year to spend the holy week with my relatives. It’s been almost a year since I last saw him–we both work abroad (he’s a graphic artist/ layout artist/ web designer/ web host/ your-go-to-guy-when-you-need-some-digital-aid), and work has been my drug pill to make me forget that I’m one lonely person in this vacuum of… ick. sentimentality.
Here are some of the photos I took in the northern part of the Philippines using Canon ixus 80 (click on the image, it’ll pop). First four photos show Mike and my adorable cousin, Andy, and next to that is a photo of my very, very serious cousin, Miguel playing his PSP, and the other kid Mike doing Manny Pacquiao (we must’ve been bored in the car–except Miguel).
Read Morelove of three women, ilocana style
(1) Nita
My Ilocana aunt, who served as one of my nannies long time ago, just died of heart attack, in Ilocos.
I was too young to remember that she’s the most trusted household person my parents had. Papa remembers, he would ask her to deposit 200,000 pesos to his bank account from time to time, two decades ago, and nothing ever went wrong.
Nita is her name. My mother’s cousin.
One time her boyfriend visited her in our house in Laguna and I hid behind our long curtains, the ones that flow from ceiling to floor, and I watched them talk and touch with affection. However hard I shake my head for memories of her, this was the only picture I could draw from the corners of my mind. Happy Tita Nita and her Sweet Boyfriend Younger Than Her, cuddling on our sofa, without them seeing me. I remember being curious because it was not the Tita Nita that I’m supposed to see.
My photo albums show her standing by my side in school field trips. My memory of her show her sitting, in love.
Years later, when we would see each other in Ilocos or in Manila, I would always observe how she speaks: as if she’s always angry. But Ilocanos are like that. Always looking galit. Fierce. Even in love.
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(2) Yang
My mother is an Ilocana.
Read Morewhat I get from visiting old houses of important people
What do you get when you watch those programs that feature the house of the rich and the famous?
- grand staircase at the house of Jose Rizal in Calamba
Aren’t you curious over how they do things before all the technological advancements we have?
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