Wednesday, May 07, 2008 Delen: Nostalgia By Annie Delen Jaded Mind
SOME people say cities are at their most beautiful at night. I tended to agree in the past. Hundreds of lights seem to have that effect on even the shabbiest place on the face of the planet.
Quirino Hill for instance may look like my mound of laundry in two weeks but at night, it is breathtaking. The multicolored lights give it a festive atmosphere. So if one hill can evoke such a reaction just imagine what the whole city of Baguio can do to your emotions on a moonless night and most of the houses are lit thanks to Mr. Thomas Edison.
Unfortunately, my perspective changed after I spent almost five hours scouring the streets of this city with my friend Hector.
I've mentioned him before in my previous articles. If not here then it must have been in my first outfit. Anyway, he's the friend who drops by ever so often in order to get away from his hectic schedule. He was here last week for a much needed R and R.
He's not really a stranger here having spent his university days at Saint Louis University a lifetime ago. (I don't wanna be hit by lightning).
Being the wanderer that he is, he knows a lot more about the places in Baguio than I do; embarrassing to admit but true.
Unfortunately, last Wednesday, we simply ran out of places to go. SM was too crowded for comfort and Session Road has become too familiar. So we did what we normally did ...walk. We decided to revisit places in order to get a new handle on things.
If there is one thing that walking does, it allows you to see things up close and personal. From a moving vehicle, a park may look pretty with all the flowers and lights surrounding it but at a closer look; you notice the imperfections and yes, even the "warts".
I have been told often enough that Burnham Park at night is not the place to visit unless you are looking for something in particular. If you were not born yesterday then you'd get my drift. Call me a lily-livered Igorot but I simply never gave up on that park however depressing the descriptions have become. Thus on that Wednesday night, we decided to pay it a visit.
First Scene: A darkened park. The lights were so few that were it not for the lake in the middle, one might think it's the wrong place. Enter ... actors.
Four or five men were grouped around a table near the lake. They could have easily been mistaken as "boatmen" except that in this particular scene, they were "boatmen having a drinking session". To make matters worse, one of them gets up from the table, walks over to the grassy part and takes a leak in plain sight not even bothering to go to the darker corner. No wonder the grass is healthy (see: untrimmed) it is getting a dose of ammonia.
Second Scene: Slightly illuminated pathway. Moving away from the "boatmen" we walked along the pathway that I used to pound with my aching feet when I was still jogging in the mornings. (A lifetime ago ... also) Not only was it muddy from the recent rain but it was also dotted with pieces of trash left or thrown away by undisciplined idi-s who have either never seen a trash can or don't know what it is for. Enter ... actors.
Some guys who try to walk along with us but decide to hang back when they realized we were not interested ... to be continued.
