Alexie's Travel Memoirs

Whatever We imagine

2005-03-07T11:59:00.000-08:00

Benedict Anderson in his book "Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism"said that "[Nations are] imagined because the membersof even the smallest nation will never know theirfellow members, meet them, or even hear of them, yetin the minds of each lives the image of theircommunion."..."It is imagined as a community, becauseregardless of the actual inequality and exploitationthat may prevail in each, the nation is alwaysconceived as a deep, horizontal comradeship."(Anderson, 1983)

Incidentally, Anderson used a number of Asian examplesto illustrate his point, specifically pertaining toRizal's Noli Me Tangere. For the full experience, he had sat in Ambeth Ocampo's history classes in UP.

While this idea has been in the back of my mind sinceI began here in Brussels, especially since it was oneof my first readings in class, I never witnessed itsfull representation until recently -- it all startedon one Friday in December. As I entered the new cafebar in campus, an unmistakably Pinoy cacophony ofvoices welcomed me, reminiscent of many a college caftambay time. After five minutes of shy glances andintermitent whispers of "Uy, Pinay yun, Pinay, Pinay!"-- I finally went over and said "Pinoy kayo? Pinoyako..." and with warm smiles and laughter, weexchanged numbers and it was the start of many atambay time with Pinoy MA/MS students of VrijeUniversiteit Brussel.

Part of our quirks are reminscing about our childhood(we are more or less of the same ages), sharing showbiz chismis, squealing at the sight of polvoron, singing loudly in uber quiet Belgian trains, amongother things. Apart from the sharing of meals ofsteaming rice, adobo, mechado, paksiw, sinigang or sessions of jamming and majhong in our respective dorms or apartments, I've joined these Filipinostudents in other adventures.

On Mardi Gras, or the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday, we took the bus to Aalst, a Flemish town that hosts apopular and satirical Carnival. The town itselfreminded me of a medieval village, especially its towncenter. Though many Belgian towns resemble villages ofold, Aalst had a different air -- or maybe it's because of the many becostumed men and children. Thetown reeked of beer and whatnot (and some spots ofchonki/jutes), good thing it was cold so the smell was sort of lessened, because the Carnival celebrationshave been going on for the past 3 days. Carnival comes form the root "carnal" (of the body), and at this time people do their last bit of human extravagance beforethe Lenten Season begins. Though I doubt they still celebrate Carnival for this reason, it is quiteinteresting to note its beginnings. Another Filipino student told me that carnivals at Aalst are known tobe of the satirical kind where participants of the parade are dressed up to make fun of the Belgian monarchy and other powerful people in government. I didn't see that much of a representation as most ofthe men were dressed in old hag ladies looks completewith shopping carts, though a couple were dressed inpolice and train conductors suits.

Last Saturday, we joined the Filipino student community in Leuven in their monthly mass andsalu-salo at the University. I had a particularly gruelling week and the site of the familiar Filipino warmth in Leuven left a comforting feeling of belonging. I sang my heart out in Filipino mass songs,complete with a guitar accompaniment. It was a solemn and intimate mass, held in a salle (hall) with no more than 30 participants. I met a lot of students, wholike me just wanted to pursue a dream and eventually go back home (well, for the meantime) and who also felt the same unbelonginess in a foreign land, and longing for something as familiar as such a simplegathering. They were mostly Theology and Philosophy masters students, and priests as well. We never got a chance to tour Leuven, which was another quaint Flemish town, as we spent the afternoon at a humungous book fair. We left the town with our spirits filled and our stomachs full of yet another pot of potluck adobo, singing baduy love songs throughout the cobbledstoned streets at our Filipino heart's content.

I know it sounds quite mundane to you, but for us whoare feeling unbelonged in a foreign land, these sights, sounds and smells of home feed our spirit with more fuel to go on in our chosen path. I realize, in all my months here, that homesickness is not curable by home; but by making a home out of what is not. In our imaginings together, we ease the pain of unbelonging, of longing, of disappointment, of frustration by coming together and sharing this state. Sometimes the silence and the cold is too much or too little for the spirit. While we all want something different from home by choosing this adventure, wecan't help but miss it -- and the good thing is, we miss it together. While we learn new things and openourselves to a new world, we cannot UNlearn what we were. Even speaking in Tagalog is sheer pleasure (sometimes, speaking in straight English can be tiring and unexpressive. Like "makulit" and "basta"). And we are thus soothed by the strum of the guitar, the taste of crumbling polvoron in our mouths, the smell of steamed rice and bagoong, and the warmth of laughterthat we can never find unless in another Pinoy. We know that at the end of this journey, our experienceis uniquely Pinoy in Belgium, and only we can understand this sense of being "neither here nor there" and our grappling with it.

My dissertation has also led me to catch a glimpse ofFilipino migrant workers in Belgium through interviews. I've gone as far as going to a WinterGames Basketball Liga of 12 Filipino teams.... Though I recognize that our worlds are different, we sharethe same longing for home. My eyes are opened to their travails and what they have to do in order to livehere, and to make a living for so many lives that rely on them back home. It's not easy, I see that, but it's a choice they had to make (or sometimes are only leftwith.)

Allow this part reflective, part academic memoir of sorts -- these past "last months" in Belgium had led me into reflection, not to mention that my mindset has been turned into dissertation mode. I am counting mydays here, as I am homebound in a few months -- May to be exact! Time flies so fast! And at the end of this month, my family is coming for a much awaited visit --I am looking forward for them to see how my life hasbeen here and to travel with them for a few days toScandinavia. I can't wait!!!

My future Pinoy adventures include: singing in the English mass choir on Palm Sunday (we're excited tosing "I Will Sing Forever"); Visita Iglesia inBrussels (by tram and metro); Way of the Cross in Leuven on Good Friday; and more evenings of pita andbeer and Sunday afternoons of good food and company. I shall share more!

"Involving the traversal of sacred geography or the attainment of a heroic quest, the journey ofachievement has the character of a spiritualpilgrimage: the initiate undergoes a period ofliminality, of being neither here nor there, but at the end of what is essentially a ritual processemerges with a transformed self."
(Filomeno Aguilar,Introduction of "Filipinos in Global Migrations",2002)

Advanced Happy Easter to all!

View photos at: http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/alexieferreria/album?.dir=/9a60&.src=ph&.tok=phM7GnCBEEOFzmqd

Past memoir posts:http://alexietravel.blogspot.com

A plus,
Alexie

My 10 days of Christmas in Frankfurt

2005-01-18T11:39:00.000-08:00

Instead of bibingka, I had ginger spice Christmascookies. Tsokolate eh was substituted for GlÜhwein --a warm spiced red wine. Baked goose and knödle (yummypotato balls) graced our Christmas meal, along withmaronnes with cream (chestnuts!). A German Christmas2004 proved to be unique and unforgettable to me, asmuch as most of 2004 has been.

Ten days in Frankfurt were the most relaxing for me inmonths; as I realised that I have studied non-stop since I arrived in Brussels in September. Staying uplate, watching DVDs, playing with 16 month oldDaleyla, chismising the night away and waking up nearthe lunch hour was a welcome break from my Brusselsroutine of aral, laba, luto, linis, aral ulit.

CHRISTMAS SMELLS, SANTA SMELLS. I had just missed theChristmas markets in Frankfurt when I arrived the daybefore Christmas eve; Lala and I went down to Zeiljust in case they were still there, but the marketswere wiped out, like they were not there for the pastfour weeks. I didn't fret as I made it a point tovisit one in Brussels before I left. It resembles abazaar, but with more flair and flavour, literally.Wooden booths, country specialties for sale, the coldweather with always the threat of snow, ice skatingrinks, carousels, visible breaths, the smells ofroasting chestnuts, caramel apples, sizzlingbratwursts and people mingling in mittens and snowcaps, hunched over steaming cups of GlÜhwein. Do yousmell the picture?

On Christmas Eve, we joined the people of Frankfurtgathered by the Römer, to listen to the simulatenous ringing of the church bells. Christmas magic wasalmost there, as the people were in a merry mood,singing carols and hugging their children, sippingGlÜhwein yet again, against the background of the ancient square lit by a giant tree and the ringing ofthe ancient bells rising above the din. We met up withDavid's family there, as it was tradition to meetfriends and family at this time of the year and atthis place. Wine, cheese and grapes filled us up as we waited forthe midnight hour of New Year's Eve. There were firecrackers here and there, but not as much as I wasaccustomed to. But at the stroke of midnight, that waswhen the neighbors started lighting up the sparklersand crackers and popping up the bubbly. Daleylawatched the colored lights from the balcony, unafraidand fascinated. As we toasted to 2005, I couldn't helpbut feel a stirring of homesickness (as Lala described it well, it emanates from the bellows of yourstomach). But with the merriment around, I pushed it away -- and said a quiet prayer of thanks for the year that was and continued blessing for the year that will be. That's when I realised -- it's been a year since I left Manila the first time to pursue the BrusselsDream. Hey, I'm almost home again and almost with an MA! That cannot be topped off!

RAVIN' RIZAL. My memoir does not end there yet. Wepostponed a trip to Heidelberg on 30 December because of the prediction of snow. Over washing dishes, werealised what a perfect day it could have been for avisit -- it was RIZAL day and our purpose was to visit Jose-Rizal-Strasse! But New Year's day proved to becold yet dry enough to drive out and we set out anadventure to find him. It turns out that JR Strassewas at Wilhelmsfeld, a town just OFF Heidelberg. Wefound the street, but it was too dark (it was already5pm!) and too unfamiliar to walk around and find thehouse where he stayed burning the midnight oil over medical studies, writing the Noli, plotting thePhilippine revolution and mooning over a current girlfriend. It was a sort of country road in a smalltown dotted by quaint houses and a field. We followeda sign to Jose Rizal park and it led us to a dimly litpath that led us to a tiny square off a community school. Remember, it was cold, dark, we were alone andwe have been cracking Blair Witch jokes all afternoon.We were guided down the path by the light of ourtrusty mobile phones. Then, from the shadows of the lamp lights arose a larger than life Rizal --literally! Because it was a German sized Rizal, and we all know that he was of average Filipino height. Wefelt like we were visiting a grave in the middle of a dark forest as there was a huge bouquet of roses atthe foot of his statue, graced by the people of Wilhelmsfeld on the occassion of Rizal Day. We leftthe little square, delighted by the adventure and the atmosphere, while circling our mobile phones in theair like a bunch of raved ravers. To make the most out of the trip, we drove to Heidelberg and it was a magnificent experience to walk through the Schlöss atnight, with its dramatic lighting. The Schlöss is a huge 13th century fortress that housed many a Bavarianroyal family. I vaguely remember coming here with myfamily in 2000, but with the eerie and romantic air ofwinter and lighting, I was not so sure. This surely is another memory to come back to!

My hosts David, Lala and sweet Dalyela truly made myfirst Christmas away from home special, as I found a familiar warmth with them. Reminscing with Lala abouthighschool and college days, not to mention life in Manila proved to be entertaining and even philosophical to both of us, as we are leading lives away from the comfortably Pinoy. They also fed me homemade German cuisine to my delight -- raclette,fondue, sausages, sauerbraten and hash browns with applesauce. Guten Appetit!

As 2005 enters our lives during a devastating time in Asia, I hope we find time to reflect on the wrath ofnature and the greatness of God and realise and hold on dear to what really matters -- life, learning and most of all, LOVE!

Sending photos of Christmas celebrations in Brussels(with my friends, the dinner hosted by the nuns at thehouse and the Brugge trip with Camille etc) and Frankfurt.

BrusselsChristmas:http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/alexieferreria/album?.dir=/c685&.src=ph&.tok=ph4FFUCBdIUcCTJg

Frankfurt:http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/alexieferreria/album?.dir=/3738&.src=ph&.tok=phEMFUCBNYL8ttZg

Bonne Année!

Alexie

PS. Keep me in your prayers as I write my exams thismonth!

Paris in the Fall

2005-01-18T11:36:00.000-08:00

Three days under the rain still did not mar Paris'beauty. We arrived on a chilly Friday and started ouradventures with our quest for lunch. We ended up in acorner CHINESE resto with cheap authentic noodlesbefore heading to Musee Rodin. Rodin, most popular forhis sculpts "The Kiss" and "The Thinker", thought ofplacing his works in a garden, offering Parisiennesand les etrangers alike to stroll through a manicuredlawn and be surprised by lifelike sculpts. I liked"The Kiss" best. Before heading home, we ventured tothe Opera, muse for "The Phantom of the Opera", andthe grand building never fails to give me tingles. Wetook the tour and saw some costumes and a hall thereminded me of Beauty and the Beast. We stayed with a lovely Dutch couple who lived in theoutskirts of the City. That meant having to take theRER (commuter train) to and from the city, which tookmore or less 30 mins. They fed us with tres delicieuxet authentic French "homemade" food of baked salmonand foie gras and a sumptous meat fondue for ourfarewell meal.

Saturday welcomed us with nasty cold and rain; but itdidn't faze us to walk through Champs Elysees (whichwas doted with Christmas decor), visit Musee Picasso,as well as Le Marais, a picture perfect area, withstreets doted with quaint shops, the Sienne just astreet away and the lovely Place des Vosges, where ajazz quartet serenaded us while peering through artgalleries. C'est formidable! The highlight of the daywas meeting Camille and Yumi, friends from Manila.Lia, my Venezuelan-American friend, was introduced tomy Manila self as we tres Filipinas tsismised our wayinto the night, over Camille's fresh creations at LeCordon Bleu and a plate of les huitres (oysters) atthe corner bar. Lia was delighted at the intermittentspills of "pero" and "syempre" into our Taglish talk. We heard mass at Notre Dame the next day, which wasquite an experience, even if the organ music scaredus. We met Camille and Yumi at the Sacre Coeur steps(a la "Amelie") and continued to Montmartre. No, we were too shy to have our portaits made. Too cold tostay out, we decided to seek shelter in a cafe, thathad a piano player on board. Tres parisienne, n'est-cepas?Three days was not enough for me to drink up the city,especially with the weather not cooperating, andschoolwork waiting for me in Brussels. I never evenhad the chance to see Le Tour Eiffel up close, butnevertheless, I know Paris will always be a city to come back to!

CHRISTMAS IN THE AIR
It's begining to look a lot like Christmas aroundhere, with announcements for Marche du Noel. I will be spending it in Frankfurt, at Lala Aventajado's, from23 Dec to 3 Jan. I am awaiting a German Christmas,with its famous markets and food, and maybe I visit toHeidelberg to look for Rizalstrasse.

SCHOOL WORK
I can't believe how time is flying so fast; too fastindeed. My exams are scheduled right smack on mybirthday week; I will have exams for courses I'vetaken this sem and last sem. Then after passing them(oh, I hope to God!), I will be starting with mythesis, which is due in April. Before you know it, Iwill be sinking my feet into Manila traffic and Boracay sand again.

PHOTOS

By the way, I went as a Pixie last Halloween:http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/alexieferreria/album?.dir=/6bb9&.src=ph&.tok=ph37FJCBpTWEwT_cParis

Photos:http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/alexieferreria/album?.dir=/9928&.src=ph&.tok=phi6FJCB3fGiav9l=====Early

Christmas greetings to all! I'm sure it's thebazaar craze back there... among things I am missing...

Bises,
Alexie

Brussels the second time around

2004-10-23T01:01:00.000-07:00

I arrived on one of those in-between-season-days, dayswhich we don't really have in tropical Philippines.The air was crisp and cool, not a hint of the colderseason yet, but the leaves were starting to fallalready. It is quite beautiful, seeing the seasonschange. I think it gives one some thought on how lifedoes move on and move fast. It may be mundane to thoseliving here, but it's something new to me!

I sat on the steps of the convent waiting for the sisters tocome home (I was locked out for an hour), drinking thescene up again. Funny how time has flown again...Brussels was exactly how I left it in June; perhaps that is why I didn't have that much of a hard time adjusting again to the routine. Even jet lag did not bug me much; I was up and running the day after I arrived. I was even excited to go to the grocery tohave my much missed fromage fraise! Though I am stillguilty of homesick days; I can never do without those!Friends like you are hard to find...

Classes have begun and that too does not seem tough.We January students are down to around 10, while wewelcomed some 40 new students, mostly from the US andCanada. There is another Fil-Am gal in the program, aswell as a half-Pinoy guy, who's dad hails fromVigan... Been having surprising other Filipino connections: my dorm mate's uncle married a Filipinaand a Canadian classmate based in Singapore onceordered through myayala. We might rule the world afterall.Though most of the studentry has come from NorthAmerica, there are also uncanny mixes, such as theJapanese girl who does not speak Japanese but haslived all her life in Brazil. Much like my South Korean classmate who claims he's German, since it isthe only country he knows... Makes you think of natureand nurture, doesn't it?

Nothing much to report this month, as it is back-to-school month. But there are some new things: I am now relegated to the nun's floor. I am now closer to the office where I do computer work; and maybecloser to God? :) My room is much bigger now and has anicer view of the street.

No pictures this month, but a website: http:\\www.asiaeuropeproject.org. This is where I am interning for yet an undeterminedamount of time... Yes, I got an internship! It is quite exciting and new for me, and quite on track withwhat I really want to do... It is a start-up NGO andthe Asia-EU partnership is quite a dream come true! I am working with 4 other students and our director is a journalist by profession. I don't have hours as yet, just meetings and work-on-your-own time. I will beassigned to conferences and events.

That's all for now, dear friends and family. Justwanted to let you guys know how I am on the other side of the world... This month's memoir is quite dry, asmuch as my throat, as I am home today down with cough and a slight fever...

Always thinking of home,
Alexie

Summer/Tag-ulan: Manila on my mind (Boracay too!)

2004-09-09T17:59:00.000-07:00

Alas, my Manila days are counted. I have one more month to savor homecooked goodness, hanging out with friends, watching Pinoy TV and beach dates with chris...

I write this in the rainiest day I've seen thus far, at least in the 2 and a half months I've been here. We were supposed to go to Tagaytay today, to see Taal Volcano up close, among other adventures. But we can't even leave the house with the flooding around our area. Have you seen Taal up close? We've been so accustomed to the view from the ridge, the majestic volcano sitting atop a lake, the view peeking from the many roadside cafe's and fruit stands as we coast along to Batangas. On a trip with some foreign friends last July, we drove down from the ridge for a change to see Taal face to face. It left me speechless. It rose solidly from the still, eerie lake -- the once smallest volcano in the world becomes larger than your imagination. It seems harmless from the ridge, but here by the banks of the Taal Lake, it leaves you in awe and wonder, if not in fear.

On that same trip, we also took our friends to Intramuros. One of the stops was Fort Santiago, a place that belongs to the memory of my elementary school field trips. Honestly, the place reminded me of many a square in Europe, with the sprawling gardens leading to the moat, the wood carving of an ancient warlord crowning the old walls, the old bricks, and the dome of the Manila Cathedral peeking from the palm trees. It was beautiful. I never saw it this way in grade school; I always remembered it as so big and so far from home. Behind Rizal's cell is the bank of the Pasig River where you can see Manila's bridges, the Post Office, Manila City Hall... I know it's not perfect -- you can also see the squatters sitting beneath the bridges, the abandoned buildings -- but you can get a sense of Manila's rich and prestigious past. I walked back to the car with a sigh -- where has it all gone?

Another adventure in between my gamut of surprise summer projects was a trip to Binondo and Divisoria. My mom and I parked the car by the Binondo Church and walked through Chinatown's streets. My mom pointed out old cafes and classic Chinese restaurants of her youth. After a sumptuous authentic dimsum lunch at President's Tea House, we WALKED from Binondo to Divisoria through Quintin Paredes. The streets were peppered with shops teeming with clothes made in China and Thailand, fake bags, local sandals, fruit, flowers -- you name it. Oh what a gleeful shopping spree! On a dare, we took a pedicab back to Binondo and we ended up screaming in the carriage as the driver pedaled AGAINST the traffic of Recto.

To cap this vacance off is a wonderful trip to Beautiful Boracay. The wide wide beaches were an immensely pretty sight. And what them Bora regulars say about the powdery white sand is true! We went at a off-peak time, Habagat season, so the beaches were almost empty. We were very lucky with the weather as the locals reported that it has been raining incessantly before we arrived. Of course, how can we leave Boracay without a tan, a henna tatoo, losing an earring during snorkeling and the memory of the crashing waves and the beautiful polvoron sand on my mind...

My studies will end by summer of next year, with exams in January and my dissertation in April. I shall not be here for Christmas, so this was a precious opportunity to come home. It was great seeing and chatting with friends -- though I have not seen all of you yet! And I thoroughly enjoyed Pinoy Pop, which I've missed in the blue months I was in Brussels -- the FX songs, Wazzup, UAAP (Ateneo, Go and fight!), Pinoy slang (skongkreng!), showbiz cat fights, Ice Monster and Imelda. There's no place like home, indeed!

May: Funky London Town (among others)

2004-09-09T17:53:00.000-07:00

Maybe it was the character red urban theme -- reddouble deck public buses, red steel telephone booths,red "Underground" signs. Or the chic urban madness --the hustle of city life, dapper gentlemen in whateverage in suits crossing streets, lunch on the go, takeout coffee. Or the mix of the old and the new -- ofmysteries, monarchies, drama, and fashion statements.How could not the spirit of the city not inpire thefunk of acid jazz or the mohawk punk the 80s? Though London can be an urban nightmare -- with anineffecient Underground, pollution and exorbitantprices -- it suited the tourist in me to look beyondthat and have some funky fun. Right.

My trip to London was en route to a student conferenceat the University of Kent, Canterbury, the "motheruniversity" of my school in Brussels. We arrived on aunusually hot day, making the pollution morepronounced. Our hotel was by Notting Hill Gate, whosemost apartment doors are painted a certain "Hugh" ofblue. Funny. We scratched the dust off our eyes and took the top deck of the Hop-on-Hop-off tourist bus tosurvey London Town. I would not consider London as an urban jungle, despite the many new buildings, the dirtand grime of the city because of classic structures asthe London Bridge, Big Ben, the Tower of London and Buckingham Palace, and because of the greenery among the grime, Kensington Palace and Hyde Park. Despite its modernity, they managed to preserve suchstructures, which is characteristic of any city or town in Europe anyway. We capped the dayphantastically enthralled by the music of the night,by getting student rate tickets to The Phantom of theOpera at West End. Lovely, indeed.

We started our second day with the changing of theguard at Buckingham then later taking the cruise fromWestminster to the Tower of London. This was my favorite part of the trip -- the Yeoman Warder tour ofthe Tower of London. Yeomans, or Beefeaters, are retired British military men who are special guards ofthe Queen and of the tower. Among other duties, they are the official tour guides of the tower, making tours more interesting because of their enthusiasm and knack for story telling. I heard stories of executions, prisoners, betrayal in the monarchy. Do you know that there are 7 official ravens living atthe tower, as it is believed that if they leave, thetower will crumble? Oddly chilling, ain't it? Walking through the cobblestoned fortress sent chills up myspine as well -- but not as much as we later on tookthe Jack the Ripper tour. After a dinner of fish andchips, we joined the group led by another Beefeater through the scenes of the crimes of 1888. The weatherwonderfully cooperated -- it was rainy, chilly andcloudy. We saw a different London -- gone are the modern city lights, the posh houses, the manicuredlawns -- enter the "Bollywood" or the Indian Town,century old school buildings, eerie houses. East London was the dodgiest part of the city in 1888, where poverty was at its height, despite London beingone of the richest cities at that time.

Canterbury is a lovely, lovely town as well, with quaint places to eat, relax and study in the main partof town. Too bad that part of the cathedral was closedfor renovation, we didn't think that 8pounds was worth paying for seeing just part of it. The university is atop a hill and it reminded me of UP, for some reason-- fields, lots of greenery and old buildings. After losing to a football match against Kent, we chilled in the school pub and reminisced about our University days with beer and tequila in tow. Our last 2 days in the UK were spent as Londonerswould spend it, as we were hosted by our classmateswho hail from there. We went to St. Alban's, anothercathedral town north of the city then checked outfunky clothes and booths at the huge Camden market.

CROSSING BORDERS -- LUXEMBOURG, GERMANY, FRANCE
Last Saturday, we rented a car to drive down toLuxembourg, a tiny country in the map of Western Europe. It was very picturesque, postcard scenes come alive with deep green forests, hidden castles. Wedrove along the river Mosel and crossed Lux's borders to France and Germany, then stopping by quaint townsof Echternach and Trier on the way to Schengen, thetown where the Treaty was signed on European visas. In12 hours, we can say we went to 4 countries in one trip! Thank you, Schengen!

See photos at:http://f2.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/alexieferreria/album?.tok=phwEZMBBl1K8Rtnu&.dir=/9c08&.src=phMANILA,

MANILA, I'M COMING HOME...Some of you know already, but here's the official press release -- I'll be missing summer in Europe andspending the rainy season in Manille! All 3 months of it... Goodbye laba, luto, linis, pasta, pizza,microwave food... Hello, inihaw, pinakbet, politics,friends, family! Goodbye, effecient trains, cleanstreets, expensive food... Hello ... Hope to see you in my hiatus back home... I'm looking forward to catching up and sharing stories from my dream come true!

April: Confessions of a Roman Addict

2004-09-09T17:47:00.000-07:00

I was standing amongst a crowd of noisy Italians,gathered by the magnificent Colosseo, to witness theannual Via Crucis, Good Friday evening. We weremunching on our baon biscuits -- Tita Bonet, Gina andI -- while waiting for the Pope to make his entrance.There was an inexplicable aura; perhaps due to thefading light, the candles, the torch-cross, thedramatic lighting of the Colosseo's arches, and theanticipation for the Pope. And then at 9pm, heappears, on a hill overlooking the Colloseo, and apowerful hush envelopes the crowd. AMAZING. I cried.
Rome was exactly that -- AMAZING. Even if it was mysecond time, I was falling in love with it again. Fromall its intricacies -- the gesticulating Italianchildren, the names of the streets, the dirty buses --to its grandiosity -- The Trevi Fountain, PiazzaNavona, St. Peter's, all its Baroque Churches -- Romeexudes, breathes and retells a passionate past. To me,Rome celebrates the greatness that is God and the wayMan represents His Greatness in extraordinary art andsculpture. Throughout the trip, I was struck with aweand greatness EVERYWHERE, and felt somehow part of it,as part of mankind and Catholic-kind.

We stayed at an inn run by nuns just a few blocks fromTita Bonet. It was quiet and we felt like we were onretreat. The nuns running it only spoke Italian, andGina and I found ourselves responding en Francais! Onday 1, we did what the romans did: took thethief-and-nun-and-priest filled bus 64 to the Vatican.It was so crowded and we didn't know what to hold ondear to, our bags or the hand rails! The trip wasworth it as it led us to the ever-breathtaking St.Peter's -- the square and the basilica are trulyoverwhelming, it makes one wonder why Bernini did thisat all, what Michelangelo had in his heart when hecarved the Pieta, and who are the nameless men andwomen who carved and chiseled all the saints toperfection. We went to St. Peter's at least 4 timesthroughout the trip -- including Easter Sunday Mass atthe square (where I cried again, upon seeing thePope!)

Florence (Firenze) is another story -- I kept onblinking, staring at the main cathedral, Santa Mariadel Fiore, because the exterior marble work was again,AMAZING. It is so solid, as if it rose whole from theground. Most of the structures had scaffoldings onthem, so it was a challenge to angle the shots for thephotos. Also saw the incredible David, and 2 othermicmics of him, since the original cannot bephotographed. Piece of trivia -- the vest I am wearingin the photo, unknown to me, was bought by my mom inFlorence 29 years ago!
The Etruscans, a mysterious civilization, built theancient port city of Pompeii, destructed in the 79ADeruption of Mt. Vesuvius. I joined the St. Paulsisters to their Easter trip to this city and exploredthe incredibly-preserved ruins. We passed by a "foodcourt" strip, where stalls had counters with holes inthem, which served as stoves. We were also able to seesome corpses, molded by the hot lava. Mosaics andinteresting (read: suggestive) frescoes donned homesand public baths. We also saw the ampitheatre, theForum, the port. We only had a few hours to explore,plus it was a rainy day, so we weren't able to see allof the city's preserved splendor.

Also in Rome, I was able to experience it as a local,thanks to Tita Bonet. That meant taking cappuccino andcornetto on the bar, instead of sitting down;experimenting on bus lines; speaking a little ofItalian (Prego! Allora...); and touring the city onfoot. I also had an SJ day -- heard mass at the Gesu, firstJesuit church, and visited the rooms of St. Ignatius whichhoused the original Spiritual Exercises, among otherrelics, and took a train to La Storta, the place wherehe had a vision of Christ. I had to stop myself frombreaking into "We Stand on a Hill", complete with thefist movements.

Please excuse my abundant use of adjectives in thismemoir, but they really aren't enough to explain,describe and encompass the wonder and aura of Rome.You HAVE to be there to experience it, and you'll runout of superlatives yourselves. Croyez-moi, Believeme! Truly, if you have one city to choose in Europe,choose Rome... (well, add Brussels, so you can visitme!)

View photos at: http://f2.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/alexieferreria/album?.tok=ph6F..ABnj6vXgJq&.dir=/c665&.src=ph

--- Back to grey dry Brussels...This semester is a light one for me, no classes AT ALL, except for a student conference in Canterbury UK and a student tour of Euro Brussels. So it's the besttime to explore and experience Spring, especiallyafter months of wet, grey, cold weather. But withBrussels, you'll never know, as rain is always aroundthe corner.

Belated Happy Easter!
Ciao!

March: Football, brains, girl talk and supermarket follies

2004-09-09T17:45:00.000-07:00

As I was starting on this month's memoir, Amelie knocked on my door and asked which shoes should go well with her outfit... She's going out with this guy from her church tomorrow and she's overly excited about it, but she wants her outfit to say "I'm not overly excited about this". It was so cute! I wonder if the French have their own version of "kilig"...

It's almost 8:30pm here, and the sun is just setting. Spring has sprung indeed, our clocks have sprung forward starting last Sunday (so we're just 6hours behind Manila time) and the temp has been hovering around 15 degrees. I have never seen so many people in our university grounds, suddenly all these hibernating students were out in the sun, having picnics, sunbathing, skateboarding. One time, I left the house in my usual winter gear of 3 layers, went to school with the usual route of 2 trams and 4 blocks walk total, and by the time I got there, I was down to 1 layer with the rest stuffed into my bag.

This month was our brainy month, as all of us students were assigned to spew out a total of 10,000 words minimum for 3 of our subjects. It was tough, good thing that I chose interesting topics (public diplomacy and corporate foundations, and migration and national identity in india and the phils, just in case you want to know...) Still have 2,000 words to go (kuhn's paradigms, I'm about to start on it) then I'm officially on spring break. And come to think of it, now I'm done with these essays, I'm half done with one third of my MA requirements. Given they get good marks, please pray with me. Still a long way to go....

My Brussels exploring has led me to the biggest Asian store in the city, and I've never been so happy at the sight of Lucky Me Pancit Canton. Fita. Tofu. MUNGGO. Jufran. Mang Tomas. White Rabbit. Haw Flakes. Dried Mangoes. Frozen Siomai. AND Sinigang mix. I've successfully made a hearty batch of picadillo. In irony, my stay here has actually honed my Filipino cooking skills. I discovered the store by making friends with a Filipina in the tram while we were on the way to church one Sunday, who turns out to be the head chef at the Italian Embassy staff house, and we ended up having tea and muffins, going to the store, her calling me "sweetie", and an invite to taste her Italian cooking.

The highlight of my brainy month is my first football match... to watch. We had a very IR, very European "US" vs "THEM" student-professor face-off, complete with 50 cent bets, wine on the stands, and blood on the grass. Even with papers due this Friday, it was a good crowd at 40 people cheering and jeering at the profs. Vengeance is sweet. We won, 6-3, with 2 injuries (this player skidded on the grass, face-down).

Advanced Happy Easter! This time next week I shall be in Rome (Three coins in Trevi do work to lead you back there!), itinerary includes Florence, Way of the Cross on Good Friday at the Vatican, Pompeii and a slight chance to kiss the ring of the Pope.

Not much photos this month, as I've been home most days, except for the football match (oh, you girls wouldn't complain...).

February: Pinoy Love

2004-09-09T17:43:00.000-07:00

"How is it to be a Greek?" I wondered, as I spotted Ivy, my classmate from Greece, walking past the big picture windows of the VUB caf. I waved at her and she gave the slow languid wave that is so... Greek? I'm not even sure how her name is spelled, but anyway, I met her during the Researching Online seminar we had for school. We shared a computer console, and with her dark (violet-y, actually) hair and olive skin, she listened slouched down on her seat, while I was up and alert, pen poised and ready to strike. I find out that she has been in the program in September and her valuable advise to me was, with the wave of a hand, to have fun and not to worry too much. Life is too short...and Brussels is too pretty to pass by. Greek wisdom, perhaps?

The thought stayed on during the week, when we talked about Philosophy and Acquiring knowledge in Diplomacy class, where the professor asked if anyone knew anything about Plato's Allegory of the Cave. Of course, shy me didn't even raise a hand, even if I knew it was Chapter 7 of The Republic (Thank you, Fr. Louie David). The class gave him a blank stare, like he was speaking...Greek, which he was. And I wanted to scream, it's The Matrix, people!
A lot has happened since my last memoir and that includes the sudden awakening of the Filipina in me. I participated in the Language Fair at school, reluctantly at first, because I had so much to do that week. But it found me wide awake 1 am the night before the fair preparing this Powerpoint Presentation on the Philippines. I made it as funky as I could go, including anecdotes on politics, food and our lovely beaches. It was held during Valentine's week, so our presentation should have a slant toward Local Lovin', so thanks to Chris (this was his V-day gift, along with a gorgeous bunch of roses!), I gave out these sweet little brochures on how we profess undying love. Jessica, my Fil-Am classmate, was so, well, kilig, at learning all these new terms or relearning them. I found myself so proud of the following things, however mundane to us, were fascinating to others: our mangoes, our beaches, our love songs (I played whatever MP3s I had of local love songs), the fact that courtship is still part of our culture, and yes, People Power. Everyone who passed by my booth were genuinely interested in our 7,107 islands; I even had a couple of discussions on the effect of colonialism, if democracy is working, movie star presidentiables. People left the room engrossed in my little handout, complete with their attempts to a heartfelt "Mahal Kita". I failed to go around the other booths, but I caught a glimpse of some. It was an enriching experience, for those who dropped by, as well as those who represented their country. Where in the world will I again see a Bangladeshi teaching a Czech his language and vice versa?

Last Wednesday, after a particularly boring lecture, the whole class trooped to the Sports Bar in school for a drink. I had my trusty Kriek (cherry beer, yum.) and shared a bowlful of hot fries with the group. I met Pascal, a Swiss girl whose mom had several Filipina friends. It was surprising that she knew Quezon City as different from Manila, and some background on our history. After a round of drinks and stories abound, she suddenly asks me, "So, with the Spanish colonization, American education and Japanese occupation, what is it to be Filipino?" Oh God... Good thing, Jorg, a German beside her, asked her in return, what is it to be Swiss, with your 3 official languages?

While I am not having a Filipino identity crisis within myself or with others, I've been doing Belgian things on the side. Last week, we went to a Chocolate, Coffee and Tea fair, and my-oh-my, was it the best. Chocolate fountains abound. Blue Mountain Coffee 50cents a pop. Mounds of mountain fruit teas for sale. Amaretto liquer tastings. And oh, I forgot, there were free tastes every booth! They featured the cottage industry chocolate companies, not the usual stuff you see on the supermarkets nor the cute little boutiques on Avenue Louise or town squares. Illy, the espresso brand from Italy, had a booth featuring all these funky coffee machines in wild colors. C'est tres cool!

It has gone cold again, after around 2 weeks of a taste of spring at 10-12 degrees. It's the bitter biting cold that dries hands and numbs toes. But there are flowers in our backyard already, and the sun comes up at 730 now (not 830am, like a month ago), plus school is becoming busier as the end of the term looms (end of next month!) and the month-long Spring Break arrives soon. I am looking forward to a Holy Week in Rome, where I shall visit my Tita Bonet, and maybe some side trips to Florence, Naples and Pompeii.

Hope everyone had a Happy Valentine's! It was a mighty cold and boring one here (other than my surprise rose), despite the chocolate shops around. I guess, iba talaga ang Pinoy Love.

Til next time and looking forward to hearing from all of you.

January: Settling In

2004-09-09T17:38:00.000-07:00

Construction workers are the same all over the world, I suppose. What a funny way to start this memoir of sorts, but, really they are. I was walking by Boulevard du Triomphe last Monday, the street of my school (BSIS – Brussels School for International Studies), with my head down, trying to faze the biting wind, and I hear a couple of Bonjour’s! I look up to see Mexican construction workers with their usual smirk and smile. I cringed, though I half expected a familiar “Ssst, Miss, Miss!”. The next day, the same time, same street, I hear them call out, “Konnichiwa! Konnichiwa!”. Ok, so they’ve figured out that I’m Asian...

So finally, here I am, en Belgique: a country so elusive from me the past seven months, a dream almost 2 years in the making. After so much tears and fears, I’ve finally arrived; to a tiny room with a slanted ceiling, to a group of six girls trying their hand on English, to a peaceful and friendly community, so picturesque like a Christmas village, to a school that is truly truly internationaux, to a city so surprisingly quiet, sometimes cosmopolitan, sometimes quaint.

“How very postmodern of you!” was one of the statements that welcomed me during the first few lectures in class. When the professor gave that comment, the class actually laughed. That utterly, utterly scared me. Here I was, barely adjusted to the weather, to the people, to the metro, to speaking French, to the water and whatever else, with my pen poised and ever ready to take notes, dumbfounded and well, doubtful. Of course, I laughed along, trying to act as if I got the joke (or was it?), and I later find out that the rest of the class was just like me!

The first few weeks have been tough. Mom found me crying at the end of my first day at school, as I had found out that I would be staying longer than I expected. (I didn’t know that my exams take place in January next year! And that dissertation will be submitted on May next year!) In the height of my spell, I was actually telling her that I could still back out since I haven’t paid anything yet. That, coupled with limited internet connection, the cold, my dry dry skin, my bad bad French, catapulted me into some homesickness frenzy. But I had to push it away. I’ve worked so hard to get here, gave up so many comforts just to pursue this, and I just really have to face everything that comes along with achieving this dream. Thank God Mom was here to listen to my woes and discoveries as the days went on, to cook me warm meals, to explore ways with chicken and soup, to hunt for the cheapest grocery (we’ve found it, it’s Colruyt and you have to bring your own bags since they don’t issue grocery bags), and to seek comfort in shopping in the soldes (January and July are the biggest sale months here!). Thank God too for the Good Shepherd accommodation as it really is the perfect place to stay given what I need; it’s near the church, the Laundromat, the bus stop, the metro stop, the tram stop. There’s even a market close by on weekends. The neighborhood is very quiet as it is a residential area; perfect place to study as well. The girls here are also friendly, though I am still trying to get to know them. Only 2 of them speak English, and the rest of them speak purely French. Just tonight, Ophelie, one of the English speaking girls, invited us to their home for dinner. How nice! Amelie, the other English speaker, came along with us. To them, it is a chance to practice their English. I guess it has to be the same for me for my French and the rest of the girls! Thank God too for Gina and Jessica! Gina was my officemate from Ayala and she’s now working here, and she will be my weekend refuge for most of my stay here. I can’t really “hang” in my dorm as the French girls dominate the TV (thus all French shows or shows dubbed in French) and I can do that, plus cook Filipino food at Gina’s place. (The girls here sometimes peer inside our pots just to see what exotic dish is cooking.) Jessica is a Fil-Am enrolled in the school and she’s heaven sent; she’s been here since September, so she’s been teaching me the ropes of dealing with school, the cheapest cafés, the best places in the library. I felt right at home with her; I knew it when she addressed my mom “Tita” right on the first meeting.

And so I find out that I can submit my dissertation from home, meaning I can leave after my exams and finish my research in Manila then submit it by post. Since then, and since I got connected through the convent’s LAN for Internet, life here has been much more comfortable. Slowly, my room’s becoming home to me, the school becoming familiar ground (the Library reminds me of the Rizal lib, it’s so uncanny), the coffee more pleasurable (Hema, a home store, is my best coffee so far. And it’s nice to study there, though it’s a tram ride from school.), the faces more friendly. I’ve even bought a yearly pass for the metro, bus and tram, so that means I just have to flash my ID to the driver rather than buying a ticket and having it stamped. It is also such a pleasure going to school, with the different cultures and accents coming into play, the wonderful experience of learning in and out of the classroom, the interaction, the shared experiences of busted printers, of the best sandwiches, of difficult readings, of funny posters on campus, of Thursday pub night. It’s such a rich mix of culture, I haven’t even met a Belgian! Just today, I had lunch with a Thai-American, a Norwegian (I had to ask him about DSound and proudly told him how they loved Manila), a German, a Russian and an African-American. The school work is very challenging as the subject matter is entirely new to me. (Anj is my idol and primary source.) But the faculty is very helpful and friendly, they give recommendations for the best books and bookstores. I have a total of 6 class hours, but with a lot of assigned texts. Much of the grade will be from essays (due in 3 weeks! And at the end of the term) and reports and the January exam. I’ve taken up the challenge to report next week for my class on State, Nationalism and Identity… Haven’t done this in a while, but I guess I’ll manage. I have to!

But then again, there’s no place like home. I miss the most mundane of things: Manang’s inihaw (yung sunog, shet), patis, wearing sleeveless, my sandals, riding a car, soap operas, the sun, Manila radio, telebabad, my nook at our kitchen. Not to mention my family, my friends, and Chris! But once in a while (or maybe once in a lifetime) I felt that I had to shake myself out of my comfort zone just to find out who I truly am, how I am in adversity and diversity, and maybe in the end find out what it is like to truly come home.

Thank you for your warm birthday greetings through text and email and snail mail! You wouldn’t believe how they brightened my day! My family back home celebrated as well. My day was spent in class and in Hema (study+coffee+a conversation with a German mother taking a break, and who again, mistook me for a Japanese) and dinner at an Italian restaurant with Gina, complete with a photo with the waiters. And it was ended with a sweet call from Chris, sweet, even if we had to chop 20 minutes into 5 intervals since he only had five 4-minute call cards!

I found out that KC Concepcion writes a column about her etudiante Parisienne experience. Shucks, I’m not an original. Kebs.

Until the next one, perhaps in a month or so? Do keep in touch and if by any chance Brussels is in your map this year, please do drop by.