Packing with a P!

Oh well, I made it back to work just after two days of absence. I go back to work today, Wednesday, and there is not a trace of lump anywhere. I am beginning to doubt my doctor's diagnosis; it could have been also the dental cleaning and filling that could have gone wrong, which I had last Friday. I am not sure anymore. I am just glad that things are better now.

There is nothing left to do here in school now. My clearance has been signed, and all remnants of my De La Salle Teacher identity have been turned over to the Personnel Department. Packing will be done next. I brought with me two cloth bags where I am to pack my stuff with. Packing! Packing! Packing! This should not be a problem to me. I am good at it.... More than ten years of flying to and fro Manila has made me a good packer! Too bad, this summer, I am not going to make use of my packing skills elsewhere. I shall be a prisoner of my  fourth-floor three-window unit the entire summer. I don't mind. It will be a blast. I'll just think that while the rest of the of the fashionable and moneyed people fo Manila are doing their rounds of the hottest summer destinations of the country and the world, I shall be basking in my long-deserved break and  will be grateful for the great things that I am enjoying. My summer break will be in anticipation for something greater, something grand.

Happy Vacation!

My last week at work might be spent at home. My doctor told me to stay away from people after she confirmed it was mumps I was having.  This was not my idea of bidding farewell to the people, and if I made it to school, I would limit my interactions with them.

So, I am here in my condo unit, listening to the radio as there is nothing good on free TV nowadays while trying to compose this blog post which I will publish the moment I smell unsecured Wifi connections around.

As I wait for this big lump on my left jaw to disappear, I stay on bed and live the life of a bum, and I am starting to like it. This is life for the next weeks;  I am thinking of keeping  two-day old shirts on me, reheating of  three-day old food, dreaming  and staying on bed. It is  almost like the ideal life, but, no, it won’t work for me. I have other concerns to think of like, how many more pieces of  underwear do I have left until my next laundry which I plan to do in the distant future, or where will the next blackhead grow so  I could prick it with an unsanitized hair pin which I have been keeping within my reach.

This is my vacation, and I have to content myself with it. I don’t mind it though. I am not complaining, but I am not thanking my mumps for making it early for me.  It’s best this way, I guess. I will not have to see my friends’ faces as we officially bid each other farewell, and, besides, it’s not very sightly to see my over-grown left jaw as we do that. But a swollen jaw is preferred to a swollen scrotum which may happen to someone with mumps, and if that happened, that would give me more reasons to let my brother, who is staying with me now,  to do my laundry and cook my meals. And that’s a happy vacation?

Day Tour

Countdowns are no longer reserved for New Year revelries or radio's top ten most requested songs. Mine happens to last for few days. Soon, I shall hit April 15, an end to a glorious seven-year stay as a teacher in De la Salle Santiago Zobel School. It will be over soon. And I can't help but feel a tinge of sadness as I leave a school I have served for a long time. I can't claim to have changed a single student's life through my work as a teacher, but I am sure I have made some very good friends whose daily presence will be sorely missed.

Since the students are off to their summer break, all teachers, who are still reporting for work, face the computers, turning the computer area into a common scene in a neighborhood computer shop where some play Plants vs Zombies, spy on Facebook and watch countless videos on YouTube. In between our computer sessions are our long talks and equally-long lunch breaks. We cease to become school automatons who are hard at work, for we resume our more casual selves in our talks and games.

Ten-months of hard work are capped by a relaxing time at school. It can be boring at times, though. (thus, this blog post!) But I am not complaining. Since it is stress-less, I make time to reconnect with old friends and reinforce friendship with present ones.

I finally get to go around and do things without thinking much of work. One such opportunity was my co-teacher's daughter's baptism. I came for the lunch reception at Gerry's Grille - Market!Market! in Taguig, of course. Although late, I still managed to feast on the sumptuous food waiting for me. The food was good as with everything free, but it was not as memorable as my commute to and experience in Fort Bonifacio, Taguig. I have known all along that there was a shuttle to Fort Bonifacio although I have not taken it before. So, I got off at Ayala MRT station after boarding the bus in Sucat, looked for the terminal, and found myself in a quite unusual Philippine bus terminal. I had to fall in line to pay for my ticket; then, I entered a spacious waiting area with  chairs and real order! Is this how rich bus terminals are? Just after a few minutes, our bus came and left with still vacant seats to fill.

At the bus terminal

It was a day tour of Fort Bonifacio as my last recollection of the place was a dinner many months before. I don't mind appearing 'provincial' as I gawked at every structure mushrooming the complex. It was a treat, and also a not-so-true image of the Philippines for it displayed a very rich Pinas. It may not be a real reflection of the country, but perhaps it is a model of how other cities in this country is to become. I hope so.

Pedestrians at Boni High Street

Photographer photographed

Open spaces at High Street

Together with my co-teachers who were my age, I explored Market!Market! and Bonifacio High Street. Like the many penniless beings all over, we were contented with our exchanges of jokes and stories as we took our comfy spot on one of High Street's open spaces.

I left Fort Bonifacio before dusk. It was earth hour that day, and it was no longer fun to be staying out.

Earth Hour scene at our condominium complex