Death and life in a day, plus a nightingale comes home

If it's Wednesday, the 9th of January, it must be Manila with all its traffic woes and attention on the Feast of the Black Nazarene.

My husband Rolly Fernandez and I arrive at the Cubao terminal of JoyBus at 5:30 a.m., but hustler cab drivers are ready to pounce on two senior citizens shaking off the weariness of travel. Finally, after three tries we find a cabbie willing to take us and our baggage in at only the cost of what's stated in the meter.

Dr. Florentino "Jun" Martin a.k.a. Kentucky

Where we head at that hour is for a future story. What brings us to the lowlands is the death of our brother-in-law Florentino Martin, husband to Rolly's elder sister Thelma. She and Kuya Jun, as we called the late urologist, are American citizens who had long decided to pour their savings into the Philippines by settling in Puerto Princesa City, Palawan, and building a modest hotel. Already in his 80s, KJ (shorthand for Kuya Jun) continued to practice medicine there.

Also known as Kentucky because he loved to bet at the Kentucky Derby and he practiced his profession in that state, KJ suffered a heart attack on the fourth day of the New Year. He had told relatives earlier, who had quizzed him if he had a life plan, that he wasn't all that ready to go. He wanted to die at age 94. But at age 88, his wish wasn't heeded. And so he went.

So Rolly, myself and my sister Suzy Ellen Suzanne D. Lolarga find ourselves the first visitors of Kentucky at 10 a.m. on a hectic Wednesday as he gloriously lay in state in a white coffin at the St. Alphonsus Chapel in Magallanes Village, Makati.

We say our prayers for his soul's repose quietly, and at a quarter to 3 p.m., Suzy and I take our leave to avoid the EDSA carmageddon exacerbated by the rerouting of vehicles due to the Quiapo feast.

By 4:30 p.m. friend and fellow music lover Joseph Uy is texting me, urging me to come to Oriental Pearl Kapitolyo where "tito is already waiting." Tito is Pablo Tariman, and the occasion of our reunion is a belated celebration of his 70th orbit.

Shall we call them the usual suspects as far as eating well is concerned? Here we are still awaiting our orders. Thank you for hosting, Joseph!

Joseph is just a few years younger than me, but he enjoys addressing me as his "tita." I don't know if it's because of the dust of white hair on my head or the cane I use to assist me when I stand or walk.

What I think is merienda rapidly segues to a simple lauriat dinner (no meat dish as we are groaning from it from the holidays) of birthday noodles, shrimp balls, mushrooms, cold cuts, fish fillet with veggies and Yang Chow flied lice. :-)

The stories are uncorked like bottled champagne and plans for intimate concerts in the New Year are laid.

The blogger and soprano Myramae Meneses

Joseph always has a surprise up his sleeve. A little before 6 p.m. who should walk in but soprano Myramae Tapia Meneses, back from her two years of studies at Guildhall School of Music & Drama, looking trimmer and smiling sweetly as we last remembered her.

No, she doesn't sing an aria for her Tito Pablo, but she does something better. She commits to an outreach concert in Baguio details of which will be written later when everything is ironed out, including a program that's guaranteed to make the most stoic and most hardhearted swoon in delight.

Wednesday isn't so bad. God allowed me to glimpse death (Kentucky's) and a celebration of a life (Pablo's) in a day.

May your Thursday be as meaningful!

Wild talahib sea

At the risk of sounding technical (which I have to sound like to approach a semblance of authority), I looked up some basic info on the wild grass that is abundant in the month of October, and here's what I found from the Google search engine:

"Talahib is a coarse, erect, perennial grass, with stout underground rootstock growing to a height of 1 to 3.5 meters. Leaves are harsh and linear, 0.5 to 1 meter long; 6 to 15 mm wide. Pannicles are white and erect, measuring 15-30 cm long, with slender and whorled branches, the joints covered with soft white hair. Spikelets are about 3.5 mm long, much shorter than the copious, long, white hairs at the base." Source: http://www.stuartxchange.org/Talahib.html

Talahib has several medicinal uses, too, plus bundles of it can serve as materials to make pulp and paper. It even has an English name: wild sugarcane.

Talahib also has personal significance to me. I became aware of them in my college semestral breaks in the '70s when they streaked before my eyes as I took a bus to and from Baguio. Their sheer beauty lifted me up, oh, those white, almost silvery plumes dancing in the wind, the Central Plains' herald of the cool months. 

The online source describes them as "gregarious" and thriving in open spaces. There's a side of me that can be described that way. Other times I'm just a mold in a dank corner.

I consider myself lucky for having been able to capture these images with a digital camera as a JoyBus coasted along MacArthur Highway and Scitex. By the time the bus reached Scitex, the afternoon sky was dimming, and the sunset stole the show. There wasn't much of them anymore when we reached the toll gates at Nlex. Still the sight of the talahib's spin remains with me. Here then are postcards from that trip: the talahib ballerinas in performance.

 Photos by Babeth Lolarga