SABBATICAL NOTES. 17 MAY 2014. SATURDAY. N4. Dregs. A MEETING with a poet found me at SM Manila for the first time. We have agreed to occupy the Starbucks, but that coffee haus has only a few chairs and there was no option except to move to another food-cum-coffee store. We settled for pizza and laughter, not the cramped condition at the coffee house we first checked out. We had a lot to talk about--and talk we did--until the day was over, with the dusk hiding faster than traffic enforcers in these parts. This is Manila, and this is the perfect definition of blight. At 7 oclock, we called it quits, Sonny and I. We learned a lot, all the stories that we now know by heart. We said goodbye and we promised to see each other some time soon again, and then he was gone, like the setting sun. I walked out of the humungous mall and walked towards Taft Avenue. Before reaching this busy street, you pass by that park with the Katipunan Monument. I saw the park and there was only one word to capture that: filth. I remembered him, the mayor in B-rate films and in real life, and I remembered his promise of putting order to this blighted city, and all I saw last night was a filthy pillow under the bronze sculptures of characters in the KKK Revolution, many of them in fighting mood, their arms and fist raised, their mouths contorted to express the cry of injustice, lack of democracy, lack of freedom, and inequality. Right in front of this landmark overlooking that street leading to the Lawton to the northeast was a sleeping child, about three, with a piece of cardboard box to cushion him from the concrete. All around, there was garbage unimaginable in a park like this and right beside the Manila City Hall, the seat of this countrys heart. MANILA BY THE CITY HALL/
Posted on: Sat, 17 May 2014 17:28:14 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015