For Marlon Mendoza, a walkway over one of Quezon City’s busiest roads is as good a place to study as a table at home.
After his Grade 5 classes at a school in Brgy. San Antonio, the 11-year-old commutes south with his younger brother Melvin, aged 9, and their mother to the area of two big malls in the Q.C. north triangle.
Their “mama” Rochelle, 37, brings a lunch-box-sized cooler. In it are roughly a hundred mini-garlands (up to P2,000 worth) of sampaguita flowers commonly worn on Catholic saints and hung on rearview mirrors.
The three divide the flowers among themselves and part ways. Rochelle usually sits on a sidewalk in North Avenue. The boys–still in their blue school uniforms and wearing plastic rosaries on their necks–climb up different walkways.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
Once Marlon sits on the floor of an overpass along EDSA connecting a mall and a call center, he lays out his share of sampaguitas in front of him, opens his bag and brings out one of his books, a notebook and a pen.
Passers-by never fail to glance at the boy finishing his homework while selling his mother’s sampaguitas for his daily allowance.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
“Sobrang halaga sa akin ‘yon para makapagtapos ako (It’s really important for me so that I can finish my studies),” Marlon says of both elements of his nightly routine.
He has gained admirers far more than the number of people who pass him by each night, many of whom are rushing to catch their rides home. Few know their names, only as the boys hunched over a book on an overpass whose images have inspired thousands on social media.
HONG KONG–Rain, 3 degrees centigrade and untimely gusts of wind can make a combination sure to shiver.
We entered Ocean Park Hong Kong with what layers of clothes and jackets we could muster and found ourselves powerless against nature.
In this weather, it became clear the rides here were off limits. Unless we wanted to return with ice on our faces.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
Mental note: Best time to visit this particular park would be summer.
Still, we had to walk on. Couldn’t waste our tickets.
The cold also did not stop the hundreds of locals already lined up at the park entrance before opening time.
Many, including us, sought refuge first in the extended gift shop. Looking again for an indoor attraction to begin our tour, we walked to the big enclosed canopy at the Amazing Asian Animals area.
It was one thing to know we would be seeing a live panda up close. It was another to turn the corner from the obligatory souvenir photo booth and see the real thing for the first time.
Seated on a tree trunk amid an enclosure mimicking its home in the mountains, the panda was peacefully munching on a bamboo shoot.
My companions and I gushed, gazed at the mammal and reached for our phones and cameras.
The panda kept on eating, oblivious to the enamored visitors taking selfies with it in the background.
The other panda in the tent was also immersed in its own world. We saw it through a glass wall, alternately lying on its back and touching its toes.
It was difficult to catch this panda for the camera, since it did all that behind a rock at a corner covered by a wall.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
Yet we couldn’t take our eyes off both.
If you’re this close to mainland China, you can’t leave without an encounter with its most famous animal residents.
And in Hong Kong, Ocean Park is the only place for that.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
The pandas in the enclosure are Le Le and Ying Ying. Beijing gave them as cubs to Ocean Park in 2007 to celebrate the 10th year of Hong Kong’s handover to China.
They’re just 2 of the 4 giant pandas in the park. The other two, An An and Jia Jia, have been here since 1999 and stay at a separate attraction a walk from Le Le and Ying Ying’s Giant Panda Adventure canopy.
Too bad An An and Jia Jia were resting when we dropped by. CCTV monitors outside the glass wall of their own enclosures showed them lying on their backs inside separate walled dwellings.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
We also met other animals native to China that called Ocean Park home.
At the canopy keeping Le Le and Ying Ying, we got a glimpse of the red panda, a little mammal which resembled a fox (think Mozilla Firefox) more than a bear.
We hardly saw the faces of the two red pandas there. Leaves obscured one of them as it ate on a tree branch. The other was taking a nap on a perch too far for our eyes.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
Unlike the resting An An and Jia Jia, their neighbors the Sichuan snub-nosed golden monkeys were much more, erm, welcoming.
The 4 primates, who were the size of human toddlers, were led by Hu Hu, who glared at us from atop a tree.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
Hu Hu was asserting his claim over their enclosure. While the other monkeys were huddled atop a high pile of rocks on the far end, Hu Hu kept baring his fangs at the file of visitors to the Hong Kong Jockey Club Sichuan Treasures attraction. He would then jump to and dangle on the hanging ropes near his tree before approaching the visitors across the glass wall.
Being at Ocean Park also meant visiting the sea creatures on exhibit. Beside the panda sanctuary we browsed aquariums of goldfish, a species that was bred in China. There were tanks of sharks in another attraction.
But the most extensive display of natural life was at the Grand Aquarium, a giant egg-like structure beside the park’s dancing fountain. Starting from the top, we went down in a spiral through the aquarium’s tanks of over 5,000 fish until we saw the biggest tank at the bottom.
Ocean Park’s popular sea lion and dolphin show was also closed due to the cold. Instead, we walked what must have been more than a kilometer down a slope and up another through the freezing air and the worsening rain to visit the Marine Conservation Center.
We got there in time to see the trainers feed the dolphins in the pool.
At all the animal-related attractions, conservation of nature and these unique creatures was the recurring theme. The labels, images and graphics showed how reckless hunting, fishing and the unsustainable use of the natural resources have endangered the survival of many.
A lot of the practices panned are ingrained in East Asian culture, such as the use of animals like sharks for delicacies like shark fin soup and for herbal medicine.
Of all the species endemic to the peninsula, the giant panda exemplifies what could be lost if people do not help preserve and protect the environment.
There are now less than 2,000 pandas living in the world. Nearly 90 percent of them are in their natural habitat in China, the rest in zoos all over.
A map of China at the Giant Panda Adventure canopy is telling. It shows how pandas originally roamed through a large chunk of southern China hundreds of years ago. Red blots now mark the areas where the few ones remain today.
For one thing, pandas only eat one type of food, bamboo, and few habitats have large quantities of it.
It’s also difficult to breed pandas since they become fertile only once a year and rarely mate. Females that successfully become pregnant run the chance of absorbing the fetus, still an unexplained phenomenon.
Just in October 2015, Ying Ying miscarried what would have been Hong Kong’s first locally born panda.
While there are protests to Ocean Park’s housing of animals and use of them for entertainment, the park has been helping breed the endangered species and taking care of its wards.
Exhibitions like the ones we saw could also help increase awareness among people, if not educate them.
For our group, just seeing the pandas made our visit and our day worth it. Who knows when we would get to see another living panda again?
Here’s hoping everyone will pitch in to make sure the next generation could also look forward to a personal encounter with these black-and-white bears and other endangered animals.
But at 6 degrees Celsius late in the night of our arrival, our group felt the clothes we packed were inadequate. And we had already ran the risk of exceeding our baggage limit by packing extra jackets and pullovers.
An intense cold surge was blowing through southern China on the weekend of January 23 and 24, bringing frost and monsoon winds with it. Our visit chanced on the territory’s coldest temperatures in nearly 60 years.
One of our mates, who confidently strutted outside wearing just his plain white shirt from Manila, rushed to put on a hoodie.
The frequent wind and drizzle made it worse on our gloveless hands and muff-less ears. Later, our lips would bear the brunt of the blistering cold.
It was a relief to relish some heat once we boarded our bus from the airport to the city proper. The icy feeling when a palm touched the window reminded us of the conditions outside.
What struck us more, though, was the cold efficiency in the city’s urban planning. We noticed it in our smooth and comfortable entry to a city most of our group had not visited yet.
Hong Kong International Airport, where we landed, was built in the 1990s on reclaimed land a half hour from the city center. The old Kai Tak airport, once at the harbor right smack in the middle of the territory, had put both the incoming planes and the nearby residents at risk because of its location.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
The new runway and terminal changed that. But along with the new airport the city also provided travelers a variety of means to get from there to the city proper.
Signs at the terminal led to docks for taxis, buses and the Hong Kong railway system or MTR.
We first bought an Octopus card–an all-in, reloadable way to pay for rides and even convenience store purchases here in Hong Kong.
The A21 airport bus is the cheapest to Kowloon, the old city. Like most of the integrated buses here, it has two decks. Of course we opted for the top one.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
One tap of the Octopus card or a deposit of coins just past the bus door and we were on.
We cruised the route smoothly, passing through expressways, underground tunnels and flyovers. The roads, 5-to-10-lane and well-paved, were still surrounded by greenery.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
Evidences of thought-out urban planning.
Our thoughts turned to home, and mused at what could be.
(Shots by Anjo Bagaoisan)
The highways soon led to Chinese neon and high-rises. After 13 stops in the span of just an hour, we landed at Chungking Mansions in Nathan Road, one of the longest and busiest streets in Kowloon’s Tsim Sha Tsui district.
Chungking is a compound of 5 condos interconnected at the ground floor. Guest houses mostly occupy them–bed spaces ideal for low-budget travelers.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
We knocked and buzzed a bell at the door stuck with the sign “Unique Hotel / Have Room”.
A short brown-skinned woman in a thick jacket opened it.
“Philippine?” she asked us as we gave her the printout of our 5-night reservation.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
When we said yes, she said, “Tuloy po kayo (Please come in).”
Amid Hong Kong’s coldest night in decades, we were warmly greeted by a kababayan.
Josie, who hails from Casiguran, Aurora, has been here for years. She lives in and takes charge of the Unique Hotel for its Nepalese owner.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
The tile walls in the room were freezing to the touch. There was hot water at the toilet, but it had to be mixed and matched with the cold to be tolerable.
We soon settled down in our beds past midnight. The temperature outside continued to drop–some areas later reported up to 0 degrees the next morning.
Snuggling under the thick white comforters Ate Josie brought for each of us, we thought of the next few days and drifted off to dreams.
Palengkes and open spaces are hardly the place to look for books. Nowadays, they are found in big-name bookstores or second-hand shops inside malls. But just off the MRT Guadalupe Station in Makati is a house of used books that’s out of place yet not out of patrons.
The shop is nestled between closed stalls at a commercial building facing EDSA. Nearby stands sell packed snacks, fruit, rice, and household essentials. Unlike them, this shop has no name, but the stacks of magazines and paperbacks out front make it stand out to any passersby.
Inside, a small lady in her 40’s browses the rows of thin romance novels that sell for 10 bucks apiece. A teenage boy picks out a book in front and starts reading. Outside, a man sits on a plastic mono-block leafing through a hardbound Bible. Other people just mosey in, scan the titles, and zoom in on a few for a closer look.
At the seller’s station, a bespectacled man with ruffled salt-and-pepper hair wraps books and tapes torn covers and pages. Behind him a three-foot pile of unsorted books awaits a fix or a place in the packed shelves.
His mouth is busy as much as his hands. He’s struck a conversation with a male customer who asked about a book in the shelf of 65-peso titles above the pile. Later, the topic moves to Hukbalahaps and Philippine communists.
The seller interrupts the chat by calling out to curious drop-ins.
“That row of books is 40 pesos each. But you can get three for P100.” He doesn’t mind saying it, even if handwritten signs scream it all around the shop.
In between his sold-out appearances at the Christ’s Commission Fellowship in Pasig and at the Smart Araneta Coliseum in Cubao, Nick Vujicic (pronounced Voo-yee-cheech) stopped by the SM Mall of Asia for a quick meet and greet.
The free-entrance event lasted only 20 minutes, but it was the opportunity of a lifetime for those with whom the limbless preacher’s life story and message would resonate the most: Filipino Persons With Disability (PWDs).
The mall managed to get the Serbian-Austalian inspirational speaker for the benefit of several local PWD organizations, whose members made up over a fourth of the 200-plus attendees at the mall’s Music Hall.
Persons in wheelchairs strolled to their places at the front fringes of the laid-out seats. Children and their parents walked in, wearing green shirts that said “Autism Angel”. Many who arrived approached and greeted old friends.
Among them were a dozen members of the Las Piñas City PWD Federation. Some carpooled to the mall in their barangay service vans. Others rode private cars. Family members or personal assistants accompanied them.
(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)
They, like many who first saw Nick live in Manila over the weekend, found him through the Internet. On Facebook or YouTube, they saw how he overcame his disability to personally inspire millions.
Surely capping it all would be a personal encounter with a man who, even without his extremities, has gone surfing, swimming, skydiving and has started a family.
“I heard they bring (Nick) near the exit so that people can talk to him or touch him as they leave, ” Al, a visually-impaired man in his thirties told fellow Las Piñas PWDs on the way to the mall. “I hope they also do that here.”
“I think we should widen our prospects, you know, to those beyond our group.”
The after-dinner conversation had sped and spun through a year or more of catch-up between friends. At a café whose specialty was chocolate pastries and drinks, five college mates talked old times and timely issues.
They were two girls and three boys, 22 or 23, currently single, all barely out of college.
The kids ate dinner elsewhere, but wanted to keep talking, and so landed here. Other friends with other engagements or schedules to keep already bid good night.
The girl who just spoke was appending the current train of thought. Someone had asked the girls earlier what they looked for in a future beau.
From their answers, it seemed no one in their university org or no one their age would fit the bill.
No one remembered talk of boyfriends and girlfriends spoken about so candidly before.
One boy was nursing a dark cocoa shake he found too rich to finish.
“There are other fish in the sea. But you gotta swim,” he said.
The other boys cheered and gave him high-fives, thrilled to stumble upon an interesting extension to the usual advice offered to the love-spurned or the heart-broken.
“Hey, this is worth a blog post. Not just a tweet!” said Boy A to his seat mate, who wore glasses like him. Boy B smiled and kept shaking his head at the lengths the metaphor began to stretch.
ST. BERNARD, SOUTHERN LEYTE–The sky darkens, rain pours, and in a few minutes, it is dry again.
Possibly another day without a story for Manila, but it is good news for the temporary residents of this elementary school-turned-evacuation center.
This is the town of St. Bernard in mid-January, when floods and landslides since the beginning of 2011 led to at least 3 deaths and displaced hundreds.
But we already reached none of the rains that sent us here 650 kilometers from Manila and 5 hours south of Tacloban City.
Heads turn each time a downpour seems imminent, and return to business when it soon fizzles. With no breaking story, our local reporter Sharon Evite sought out how the evacuees were coping.
“Ganyan na ganyan din ang panahon noon.”
(Shot by Jayson Pabua, ABS-CBN Tacloban)
Locals tell us this was almost the same atmosphere 5 years ago on February 17, an event they are now taking pains to prevent. Late morning that day, a portion of Mt. Can-abag bordering St. Bernard broke off and buried the entire barangay of Guinsaugon.
Live from Maguindanao, Day 4
11 days before Halalan 2010
KORONADAL, SOUTH COTABATO– Gastronomical adventures come with any visit to the far away. But that does not always sound appealing when you talk about a month-long need for sustenance.
On my first trip to Mindanao, I think we have had enough of meat. Pork is not a staple here, but from where we’ve eaten so far, beef seems to be.
Heard of the Arabic-sounding balbakwa? They call this soup the local relative of bulalo. Anything, as long as it’s from the cow, goes. One version we ate stocked on the flesh, skin, and hair. Others include innards. All overbear in sour beef-ness.
If not, it has been goat, chicken, the rare pork lechon, and more beef.
Resident Isko Lance Catedral says fruits and veggies are cheap here that they are actually frequent fare–but mostly at homes.
And the outside heat.
One nearby caf now seems to end our search for more than meat. “Food Harbor” is a canteen heavily patronized for its 35-plus choices of viands (yes, someone counted) and doubles as a pub come nightfall.
So along with carnivorous entrées such as roasts (inihaw) and bitter stews (papaitan), we’re again eating familiar greens like chopsuey and lumpia.
In other restos, more variety.
Eating in Maguindanao, meanwhile, is a different story.
When a TV production team was planning a soap opera in late 2008, they looked for a church fit to set its religiously-themed story. A live feature on morning show Umagang Kay Ganda ended their search.
More than a year after, the series became the country’s most watched and the church one of the most familiar in popular culture.
This sanctuary in sleepy Bacolor, Pampanga is now more known as the “Simbahan ni Bro”–the center stage of events in a fictional town and its miracle boy, Santino.
But before it served as the backdrop of sleeper hit “May Bukas Pa”, the San Guillermo Parish Church already told a silent story of its own.
It’s a story that perhaps explains why this temple of stone became the face of a Philippine microcosm aptly named Bagong Pag-asa.
The 430-year-old church was the only visible remnant of Bacolor more than a decade ago after lahar from Mt. Pinatubo buried the town.
Seeing Santino and his “fathers” walk around a plain-floored, one-story sanctuary, you would not easily count San Guillermo among those grand Spanish-era churches.
The ash flow claimed all in the church’s lower ground–the altar, cemetery and monastery. Only the choir loft and bell tower remained above.
Mere shots offer glimpses of its past glory.
After Pinatubo, Bacolor’s citizens salvaged the sunken altar, retablo and the statues it contained. They restored the images and raised the retablo to fit under the single-level dome.
They opened new entrances to the other rooms and blocked off the half-buried ones. They laid out new pews, markers for the Stations of the Cross, and started anew.
With its curious appearance and story of recovery, the church was picked to play the part of humble town parish. San Guillermo’s rise from the ash flow soon extended to Bacolor.
It started with the constant presence of the actors and crew from “May Bukas Pa.” Every part of the church and the town was put to good use–with rent paid.
Then the tourists came. From buses of students on field trips to groups of overseas Pinoys on vacation, all came to see the church of Santino. Local vendors were soon earning from the visits.
When the show ended on February 5, residents would miss its characters and the uplift it brought the town.
“May Bukas Pa” became Philippine TV’s symbol of hope in 2009. But for Bacolor, it literally became its “Bagong Pag-asa.”
All with the help of this church that kept hope alive amid the flood.
PinoyJourn: Stories behind the Stories 