A Different Kind of Club

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Friday is always a good time for a barkada night out after a full week focus at work. Together with five officemates in the nearby Laguna Technopark, we traversed the vicinity of Paseo de Sta. Rosa for a closer look on the active construction in the rear site of the place on a cold and humid climate. What we saw is a promise that this place will be in high gear once it will be finished.

It happened while we were searching for a place to dine so we could unwind and relax, trade stories and relieve ourselves from stress. We realized after finally getting our behinds settled in the comfy ambience of Kanin Club, we got more what we bargained for.

Initially we were already convinced by few other friends who already had an experience being delighted by the place boasting its unusual menus and attention grabbing food names such as the Crispy Tenga. Upon circling the entire lot with no restaurant that competed with its attention, we held our breaths and assailed the place like eager beavers finally getting home after being lost in the jungle for days.

Kanin Club located adjacent to Paseo’s atrium is a fine dine that prides itself with classical combining effects of nipa hut window with glass for its tables. Use of wood and varnish is maximized in the chairs that probably extend up to its kitchen interior. It’s uniqueness defines the ambiance which perfectly complements the kind of food being served. The lighting and illumination has also added a different perspective from inside and out.

However, the true test of a good restaurant’s character lies entirely in its food.

The menu is simple and similar to those bakya restaurants with a one page laminated list of all dishes grouped according to its kind such as seafood, veggies and crispy meat. It also presents a list of its specialty, a variety of rice menu cooked in sumptuous fashion. It includes rice cooked plainly, or with garlic for the usual orders but the menu is nicely dashed with Loaded Rice, Aligue Rice, and Chorizo Rice among others, a more fitting description for its name’s derivative.

Stand by waiters donned their own identity with green shade polo of floral prints such as those worn by the late former Senator Raul Roco.

The food arrived in no less than thirty minutes unnoticed since someone already started a joke to fire up the impending evening while another willfully stared at the photographs of the scrapbook I brought. And from the moment the first dish came, the excitement has already begun.

A hot Sinigang soup poured in a white porcelain bowl with vegetables and strips of tadyang ng baka was the first to come. It was billowing steam from its covers and since then, serving bowls were started to fill.

Crispy Tenga ng Baboy and Crispy Pork Binagoongan is not recommended for the high blood people but its appearance and aroma is extremely inviting. Coupled with spices and condiments, a bite or two is good enough to gratify the prohibited craving. For others, the food experience is a pump-up stomach and ultimate bliss.

I ordered Pinakbet, my all time favorite vegetable dish which was introduced to me by my Ilocano mother who have showered me with her delicious cooking while growing up. Kanin Club’s Pinakbet is one of a kind. The taste can be linked to the half-cooked vegetable strips topped with fillet cuts of real crispy pork.

Fried Boneless Bangus and Lumpiang Sariwa, the size of a NFL football cut into half, completed the whole set of meal we ordered.

The overall price shared by everyone is a handful, amounting to almost 250 pesos each. It is not bad for a first time particularly if one is willing to shell out extra stash for the sake of good food.

What probably sets Kanin Club from the rest of Paseo de Sta. Rosa’s collection of fine dine restaurants is that it puts the customer to a different kind of distinct mood. It’s as if you were put in a canister isolated from the rest of the world and presented in a different view. We almost forgot the cold whistling wind and became unaware of the time.

Dreams

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It was a Wednesday when Maria finally had the chance to take us together with our daughter Nikki for a picnic in a beautiful park. The hills ran like waves blanketed with green bermuda grass, and the tall pine trees were dancing along the wind. The sight before our very eyes was a grandeur, like a gorgeous renaissance painting of blue sea, scattered small islands and fishing boats. The sea waves were like giant ripples slowly reaching the shore as if they were arcs and circles drawn from the horizon.

The sun was bright yellow and the sky was in its most perfect timing for a day in the park. Maria placed her head on my shoulder while enjoying the cool morning breeze that brushed against our faces. Nikki busied herself trying to capture with her tender hands one of those colorful butterflies that were feasting on a garden of roses nearby. We let ourselves a sigh of laughter as Nikki was unable to get one after several attempts. She foiled back to us weeping like a child would do and told us about the persistent butterflies.

We ate under a shade, the most delicious sandwich made from a combination of fresh lettuce and tomato coupled with tuna and a delicious spread. An ice cold orange juice, sweet bananas and a couple of red apples completed the set for a morning snack.

It was an ideal day of fun and enjoyment. The beauty nature could offer was beyond imagination. I felt so happy that I wished the time would slow down and the day would never find its end. I napped as Maria used her gentle fingers to comb my hair as if she was luring my senses to rest and sleep.

Suddenly, I woke up with a hissing sound of a dripping faucet coming from the bathroom of my apartment. I realized that a fascinating dream has just occurred to me. A dream from what the future might behold.

I held my cell phone and felt surprised that it was almost 7 in the morning. Instead of simply dialing my boss’ number, I used its 3G video call and mentioned that I may be late for office. I took a shower and immediately put on a pair of gray slacks and pin stripe long sleeves. I hurried past to the garage and soon I was inside a Chevy and quickly startled its engine. The car of course is equipped with GPS that helped me find the quickest route and avoided traffic through a computer in the dashboard. Once on the road, I browsed thousands of MP3s and found John Mayer’s Room for Squares album. I hit the play button using the wireless remote controller, and the car interior was instantly saved from boredom. As I turned towards the gates of my office building, I waited a couple of seconds for the biometrics security device to scan my vehicle registry before they were automatically opened. I got out of the car and walked a few more steps before reaching the office doors. Upon entering the building, I slid my right thumb across a thin scanner for identification. Finally with ease and comfort, I was inside the office and geared up for another day at work.

Time has been a concrete witness to man’s endless quest to develop and improve ways of living. Technology paved the road to modernization. From the simplest form of invention like the incandescent bulb, it provided light during man’s dark ages. Until the era of machines, computers play a major role in our lives.

We see them everyday, in restaurants, in school, in the work place, in the church, and almost everywhere. Technology has risen up to modernize, lest, industrialize almost everything that contribute to human’s endless search for comfortable lifestyle.

However, this challenge has been adversely affecting our nature. It consistently posed harm to our environment, which greatly disturbed Mother Nature and consequently brought disasters.

We remind ourselves of one of the worst oil spill ever to hit our country when a ship sank into the sea of Guimaras island in the Visayas. The ship went down into the sea bed together with a tanker containing millions of liters of bunker fuel. The oil spill instantly devastated marine life, mangroves, tourism and livelihood of the people living there.

When we go out of our houses for a stroll in the malls or in the city, we are dealt with a polluted air coming from all sorts of directions. Smoke belching vehicles, hazardous fumes from non-compliant factories to environmental regulations, millions of cigarette smokers, they all add up to the desecration of air in which we breathe in.

Flood waters are a persistent reminder of how the trees are ravaged. Landslides which brought perils to innocent lives simply show that if these trees are continuously spoiled without conservation, it will surely lead to destruction.

Years from now, I can’t imagine how my children, and their children too, would live if the air they’ll breathe in is nothing but a mixture of fatal gases. Every human being would be required to wear a gas mask to sustain a normal respiration.

I can’t describe how their children would eat if all of the trees are ruined, or if farms are converted into golf courses and real estate. There would be a great cry of hunger.

I find it hard to picture in my mind that they would not be able to see dolphins, whales, coral reefs, and the magnificence marine environment could offer if the waters are terribly destroyed for the sake of industrialization. They would only perceive these ideas through books and documents written from the past.

That is why it is everybody’s responsibility to take part in safeguarding the environment. We bear the obligation of protecting Mother Nature to ensure mankind could continue life in the forthcoming generation. Whatever actions equate a reaction, and it is our duty to make sure that the environment will be fit enough to provide the needs of the future.

Dreams are made sometimes to shed light during darkness, draw inspirations to those who need one and most importantly, move to make actions. I am hopeful I will wake up one day to witness my dream turn into life.

If I die today

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It was a saturday. I woke up at around 10 A.M. and wondered where my fellow housemates are. We just drank the whole evening with vodka and tequila until our wits were laid off. A colleague sadly resigned from work and a simple farewell was not enough. That morning, I didn’t have the slightest idea it will be a day I would forever remember.

My arms and feet were numbed as I summoned all my strength to escape the comfort of my bed. I just learned that I’ve got pending chores in the office. I needed to go to work. So I dressed up, got out of the house, walked an approximate 500 meters and rode the next available three-wheeled vehicles hoisting passengers in the old national highway of Sta. Rosa City.

I was sweating profusely as I arrived in the office. At first, I tried to relax and absorbed what was left from the tons of paperwork when I last took off. I failed. It seemed my mind wasn’t ready to grind and start its monotone duty.

I looked around me and saw the usual faces. My boss certainly was not around. It was a rest day for most of us. But not for those willing to spend a little more time for their job.

My focus was straightened out when I finally saw Diane. She was busy with the keyboard and her eyes were glued on the monitor.

I’m sure she was mad about last night. I promised her I will not rejoin the gang drinking. That I will not ever see Emily again, talk with her and even set foot on their apartment. It appeared as my last chance in proving me worthy of words and fidelity.

All things already passed up and the rest that I can do is feel sorry about what I did. I tried talking to her. She was inattentive. On the phone, she responded frigidly with a lot of uhm’s and ah’s. I tried desperately but she seemed disinterested to any of my efforts. It was late noon and my invitation for lunch fell on deaf ears. I ate alone that afternoon and quickly finished my meal, roughly for about 15 minutes.

As I returned to my desk, I immediately noticed she was no longer in sight. Her chair was arranged suggesting she already went out of the office. It was then that my heart started to race fast.

Suddenly, I sprang to life and rushed toward the exits. I checked the corridors and found not even a trace of her shadow. She was gone. I asked the security officer guarding the exit who may have seen her only to confirm that she indeed left the building.

I hurried back to my desk and quickly grabbed my celfone. Bad fate was on my side and I wasn’t able to call Diane due to unpaid bills. Things turned more ugly because no one around me was able to lend his or her celfone for my use. I sweated a lot harder and without hesitation, I held the company’s phone near me and punched the number zero. When I finally gained access for outside calls, I dialed her number and heard the first set of rings. She didn’t answer. I tried again twice but I got the same response. My shirt was almost soaked and wet when I realized it was no longer sweat that’s been falling out of me. I was already leaking with tears.

I was crying because I felt that was it, I lost her forever. It was entirely my fault. I cried and sobbed on my table and didn’t mind that everyone in the office was witnessing my breakdown. I cried louder until I realized that some unexplained reaction is beginning to take place in my head.

My hands and fingers started to get numb and felt cold as ice. With the aide of email and chat, I sent a message and started a conversation with her best friend working a few meters away from me. I told her what had just happened. I desperately sought her help to contact Diane again. As couple of short messages was transmitted further, I can feel my blood raced very fast to my head as if it was getting bigger and wanted to burst. I ignored it at first and refocused my attention on the keyboard, but I was feeling very ill and awkward. When I sensed that blood was flowing in my face as if rushing along the veins and vessels, and out through my skin pores, I asked her to come near because I was about to collapse. My heart pounded wildly and pumped a lot faster than normal. I was catching my breath. I barely noticed how the faces of those beside me looked like when I was breathing exhaustingly. Seconds later, I lost control of my senses and dropped on my knees and eventually, to the floor.

At that instant, I felt I was on the brink of succumbing to my last breath. It was a near death moment. A couple of hands and concerned shoulders carried my almost unconscious body, literally, to the clinic for first aid.

The in-house nurses immediately identified and confirmed what had just consumed me-- HYPERTENSION. My blood pressure read at 160/110. At a young age of 24, every individual I’ve spoken with was shocked to realize I am high blood. I was still crying and grimacing with chest pains but after putting Calcibloc underneath my tongue, I began to cool down. The nurses suggested that I lie back on the bed, stop thinking of absolutely anything to effectively relax the blood circulation in my tired body and muscles. From there, I wondered aimlessly in the ceiling before throngs of office-friends came and checked my condition.

This story is true to its last word, except for the fact that I change the real names of the persons I mentioned. Nevertheless, the life threatening experience let me paused and thought of the drastic changes and decisions in my life.

I was a retired idealistic student who could have been an activist fighting for the “people’s cause” but instead, joined the ranks of slaves of the corporate world.

I was a frustrated musician, who may have been a successful front man of a band just like what Ely Buendia did for the Eraserheads, but instead, kept my kuya’s guitar hanging in the wall for years of no practice and aggravation.

I was a ball handler who loved basketball so much and even tried mimicking Vergel Meneses’ aerial antics and Johnny Abarrientos’ playmaking abilities. In this game where height is truly mighty, I was pushed beneath the sidelines, made me sober, and eventually quit.

I used to dream of putting up a local weekly newspaper for my hometown in Angeles City when I was the editor of a student publication during college, but it took me a couple of years to get back in writing and finish this essay.

So what if I die today? (God forbid!) I may have the wrong decisions in the past but it doesn’t end there, life still goes on. I may have shared my love with a girl who can't love me back, but hey, time heals all wounds. And as long as my cozy anti-hypertensive drug keeps me alive within the bounds of normal blood pressure, I will never get tired dreaming.

A trip to Sagada

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What drove a group of eleven people into getting their behinds off their office chairs and rode the next available bus bound to the far north of Luzon is simply their passion to explore the wonders of nature.

It was a Friday, eve when most of the people working around the Metro whose homes are in the provinces are flocking the bus terminals trying to catch the next ride. Armed with the eagerness to witness the grandeur that is, of Sagada, I and nine officemates (and one of them's better-half) canceled all our schedules and geared for a countless rear-numbing bus trips and three dedicated days of affair with mother nature.

The journey began when some of us took the company's shuttle going to Magallanes while the others went ahead via a private car. We were supposed to meet and ride a bus for Banaue in España, and from Banaue take a couple of jeepney trips before settling in Sagada. Late did we realize that we won't be able to buy tickets because all scheduled trips that night were fully booked. We were very excited... so much that we were unable to make reservations knowing that we've been planning it for more than a week! Couple of hours more, we were dumbstruck like kids who were left out stucked in a cold rain. But the spirits of everyone didn't falter and our patience paid off when we finally boarded a Victory bus for Baguio on the wee hours of Saturday morning.

Dangwa, an eight hour pilgrimage

From Baguio, we arrived and ate brunch in a seemingly vintage restaurant which offers mostly fried food on its menu and a stale dish good enough for two. Just in front of it were parked non-airconditioned buses whose terminal bears the name 'Dangwa'. One of these buses have on its left windshield a plackard inviting passengers who wish to go to Sagada. Without hesitation, everyone stepped inside and quickly took comfort of his own seat like it was the last space in the bus.

While I was intermittently mumbling "Are we there yet?" knowing that it was still a long way ahead, we found ourselves in awe with the beautiful scenes displayed by a galore of terraces and mountains. The fog appearred to have blanketed some of the mountains' summit. The magnificent view of the terraces seemed to have diverted our attention to focus on the awesome sights and not minding the long hours we embraced to travel.

First night at St. Joseph

6 pm. At the break of dusk, we finally had set foot on the grounds of Sagada. The biting cold was just starting to show its fangs but it was still doable. Immediately, we searched for St. Joseph Resthouse because this is the lodge that one of us at least had an idea with. We then proceeded to the town's municipal hall as their customs require tourists to be registered.

St Joseph boasts its fine landscape of flowers and garden sorrounding the different rooms and apartelles. The lobby displays frames of photos of the native Sagada and its people. These fascinating pictures were long ago captured by Masferre whose signatures repeatedly appear in most of them. We rented a room for five and a staff house big enough for the rest of us. Inside were neatly arranged blankets and comfy beds to shield us from the blistering cold. One of the rooms was named after Bokong, a very small but deep waterfall just a few kilometers from where we were.

We had dinner at Alfredo's, a few steps from the Log Cabin -- it was our first choice but they only serve those who made reservations. Most of us had a nicely done pair of chicken thigh and breast with a fine garnish of veggies on the side. The taste was commendable even though we waited some 20-30 minutes before they served their last customers for the night. What made the restaurant stand out on its own are the Anitos that appeared to be guardians of the place. The human like figures demonstrated Machete, as someone uttered almost instantly, and varied statues of Igorots in black . It was past 9, the town's curfew, when we finished. We went back to the lodge in separate batches while the sound of the beaten bell signaling the curfew was still ringing in my head.

A trek of a lifetime

Sunday morning breeze greeted us with the temperature down causing billowed steam from every exhale and a promise that this will be a great day everyone would never forget.

We were told to eat breakfast at Yoghurt House as we discussed the status of our itinerary. Each had a platter of mouth watering pancake filled with yoghurt-- their especialty in the house. The place was not only unique for the food they serve for we'd also seen native hand made crafts hung from the ceiling and a little library of magazines and pocket books.

Guided by three who are used to speak in Kankanay-ek, (their local dialect which at first, we thought similar to Ilocano) we trekked a kilometer or two, to reach the gates of our first destination-- Sumaging cave. Everyone took ample time to have photo shoots while finding ourselves yelling oohs and ahhs with the magnificent views we met along the way. Huge walls of rock and cliff, tall pine trees with rays of morning sun decorating it, terraces so beautiful they look like stairs leading to heaven, these are just few of the things we saw.

One of the guides quickly briefed us about the dangers we might encounter as we entered the great Sumaging cave. He emphasized on taking extra caution in every step and grip tightly on every stone or rock one could hold support with. (Did someone mention "Madulas ang puting bato!"?)

A chorus of whirring sounds and bats' droppings were waiting as we progress deeper in the cave. Upon reaching the mouth of Sumaging, everyone was shivering as cold struck again in our midst. We passed through the cave barefooted, crawled on every small holes and openings, waded in waist deep waters as we were impressed with the splendid rock formations of stalactites and stalagmites. The King's Curtain seemed impossible to surpass for we have to rappel one at a time to go down further. We are witnesses to different precious stones being taken care of over the past centuries that seem to have been crafted by the hands of God. Cauliflower, Pigpen, Giant's Foot, these were some of the names of enormous rocks which were chiseled in my mind as we advance through most of the difficult to pass tunnels. From huge to small, even butt-shaped and elephant like stones, it completely made us realize the value and existence of such creations in our homeland.

After a breathtaking experience over Sumaging, we stopped over at Lumiang Burial cave were coffins of the old swarmed the fear stricken place. As we gradually approach the entrance, silence grew within the walls of the cave. One coffin was lying open and scattered bones of the dead were evident.

It was way past 12 when we had lunch break at Masferre's Restaurant where huge flies buzzed around the food we ate. But we've seen a lot more photos pasted on the walls brilliantly exposing the lifestyles and cultures of the old Sagada. Pictures in black and white portrayed the ethnicity by the clothes they wore and the simplicity of their living.

to be concluded...