Rough Groove

Sto. Nino, 2 - Women devotees

Sto. Nino - The procession

In Cebu for the Sinulog

After much coaxing and tempting me with rich photo opportunities in store by my amore, I finally decided to come to Cebu at the last minute. And so, despite failing to secure a booking for my return ticket on Monday, I boarded the 0130H flight of Cebu Pacific.

Looking out the window, I just hope that the procession this afternoon will not be drenched.

My mother

Ma, nagdagkut jud ko sa Quiapo para sa imong adlaw nga natawhan.

Happy birthday Ma!

Bag-ong tuig

Bag-ong tuig napud. Pero it seems nga its just another day for me. Ambot, while the world was busy celebrating the tick to midnight I feel nga I’m not in the mood to celebrate. It would have been better if I have my special someone by my side. Bisag kami lang duha, it would have sufficed.

Last night, the air was already thick with smoke ug nanimaho na ug pulbura tungod sa pabuto but I just watched the sky lit up by firecrackers, randomly lighting up the sky. Not so good display but hey for, maybe, almost 30 years, I’ve been gazing up this same piece of sky at the same time of the year to look at the display of kwitis, flares, and what have you.

While maybe before, I stared with amazement when I was a child, covering my ears, looked with awe and was happy at the moment, to gradually progressing to lighting up these firecrackers, not covering my ears to demonstrate that I’m not afraid of the explosion, a machismo effect (but at the same time feeling a momentary deafness), to just now, staring at the same piece of sky, watching my brother-in-law fire out the baby rockets, whistle bombs, and Judas’ belt.

Explosions. I cover up my ears.