Skip to main content

Dumaguete Diary: Day 3

It's cold and dark and when water isn't raining down on us in sheets, it hangs suspended in the air in heavy mist, the kind that gets you soaked and wets the insides of your nostrils if you stand out there for two minutes. I'm getting cabin fever but there is no way I'm stepping out into that weather. I'll teleport myself back to Dumaguete instead.

So much to choose from! Need more stomach space!
Excuse me po, are you Virgilio Adanza?

On that third and last day of my wonderful visit, I woke up at seven in the morning and jumped into a tricycle. I headed for the Dumaguete market for breakfast. Already it was so warm. I was greeted by rows and rows of small food stalls, all offering kakanins and bread of all kinds with hot chocolate made from tableas -- the real thing! I chose a stall that was fronted by a table laden with budbud. I sat down and asked for tsokolate and budbud. The man selling the budbud, let's call him Mang Virgilio, plopped two bundles down on my plate. Not sure how I was going to fit all of that into my stomach, I set to work and enjoyed the mixing of market ambience, budbud textures, and tsokolate bittersweetness.

Heavenly!

The food stall area was bustling with people cheerfully dipping pan de sal into their steaming cups of coffee or tsokolate, stopping by to pick up a bundle of budbud, or taking a break from their market errands and sitting at a stall to sip cool buko water from a freshly opened coconut. The stallholders bustled about, calling out to passersby, and trading jokes and banter across their counters.

Sto. NiƱo smiles beatifically over my breakfast.

I only ate three pieces of budbud and I was stuffed. I asked how much i needed to pay and Mang Virgilio asked me how many I had eaten. Surprised, I told him. He took the other bundle of budbud, still intact, and put it back on the display table and then he asked me for P40. That wasn't just a cheap breakfast -- it was priceless!

Cooking over charcoal and wood may not be environmentally-sound
(sheesh, I know, I know -- I just had to say it!)
but it certainly makes the food taste better!

The sun was higher up in the sky now and it was hot. I returned to my temporary roost to prepare myself for a visit -- no, a pilgrimage really -- to National Artist for Literature, Edith Tiempo, whom I first knew as Mom E., exacting, uncompromising yet gentle critic of my early, whimsical and childish attempts at poetry in the 1993 Dumaguete National Writers Workshop, and mother figure to many a Filipino writer.

Comments

The Nashman said…
baket mo binalik yung brikpast! dapat inuwi mo ng baguio
padma said…
Nash I went back for more kaso inubos ko rin lang on the way home. Hehe

Popular posts from this blog

Lola of Maipon

It's all too easy to fall asleep under the blanket of everyday life and to smother dreams with the mundane things I surround myself with. But once in a while, along comes a sparkling vision that jolts me out of my daily sleep and reminds me of the existence of convictions and worlds so different from my own. "Our beloved LOLA of Guinubatan, Maipon, Albay is the last true messenger of God. So, let us follow her holy teachings so that we will gain TRUE SALVATION without sufferings and without death." In another story I, the intrepid heroine, the adventurer seduced by mysteries, the pilgrim in search of truth, would follow them back to Guinubatan from Session Road, thirsting to see and hear their Lola for myself. However, it's all too easy -- much safer! -- to fall back asleep under the blanket of everyday life, and to smother dreams with the mundane things I surround myself with. Then along comes 9 a.m., and really, it's time to down the dregs of coffee at the bott

Cordillera Folktales and Story-telling

It was cold and wet outside on the day of the launching of The Golden Arrow of Mt. Makilkilang and other Cordillera Folktales . But inside Mt. Cloud Bookshop we were warmed by stories read and performed by the Aanak di Kabiligan community theater group. Storytelling on a stormy afternoon. Paco Paco. A Benguet story from the book, published by the Cordillera Green Network. Aanak di Kabiligan means children of the mountains. The theater group was born out of the Cordillera Green Network's eleven years of conducting workshops in which children transform their grandparents' stories into theater productions. Here they perform the title story of the Golden Arrow of Mt. Makilkilang and Other Cordillera Folktales.

Birds of Baguio and Benguet

The Little Boss and I went to see the Birds of Baguio and Benguet Photo Exhibit at the Maryknoll Ecological Sanctuary . I carried her so she could see them up close and she pointed to each and every photo demanding, "What's that? What about that? What about this one?" I dutifully read out the name of every single bird featured in the exhibit: Scale-feathered Malkoha, Luzon Sunbird, Citrine Canary Flycatcher, and so on.We discussed the colors of their feathers and the shapes of their beaks. Some of the birds were already familiar to her. The crow and the shrike are frequent visitors in our garden. Shrike in the hands of the Artist-in-Residence, with the Little Boss' first hesitant touch. Taken October 2013. Once a young shrike in flight crashed into our picture window and lay on the ground, stunned. The Little Boss and the Artist-in-Residence held it lovingly in their hands and as soon as it pushed against their palms they gently released it. That was The Littl