In Marinduque (Thursday, July 24, 2014)

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Zebra has been unable to sleep well for the past two nights now. I know that there are many elementals about but I decide to tell him this tomorrow morning. Zebra enjoys listening to stories of the supernatural but only in the daytime and never before having to spend yet another night alone.

It is the second day of the "Writing from The Heart" workshop.

I have discovered that the children's activity book "Inang Bayan's New Clothes" is a wonderful, therapeutic tool for female participants. I can relate the book's contents to self-image, self-esteem, creativity, the psychology of color, the psychology of clothing,and the roles of women in society.

My standard, penultimate exercise

Closing ceremonies. Lots of speeches, awarding of certificates, and gift exchanges.

The Vice-Governor of Marinduque

The Provincial Director of the Philippine National Police

Group shots

I meet yet another man, this one the son of a farmer, He has come to sell me his Morion Bulaklakan mask. It is the very same mask that was featured on ANC during a special on Marinduque.

We drive back to the hotel. It is uncanny how, even inside the air-conditioned office vehicle, we can still hear the cicadas clearly above the silence.

When we arrive at the hotel, the midwives' seminar are having their last dinner. I crave ice cream. The waiters tell me that no ice cream is available. The majordomo performs a miracle for me and produces a bowl of Double Dutch ice cream.

Tonight Zebra and I are the only guests on the premises. I note that the resident dogs scurry to the dark shore and back. They are the heralds and messengers of elementals.

The waves of the sea do not stumble, even in total darkness. It is a moonless, starless night because the sky is still overcast. It is possible to scry on its opaque, black dome.

Zebra and I learn from the news that there is a low-pressure area that is threatening to enter the PAR. Should it develop into a storm, it will be called Typhoon Inday.

Thursday night is, indeed, a very dark and somber night. I feel like I did when I conducted "Writing from The Heart" in Calumpit, Bulacan, for Colegio de Calumpit two years ago. I was the only guest checked in at a huge, sprawling, resort hotel. The only other person who was there was a security guard who wanted to keep me up all night as interesting company to chat with.

It is hot and balmy. I am on the front porch wearing nothing but my antique, Maranao malong.

A news report comes in: heavy rains caused flash floods in Quezon City this evening and brought the traffic to a standstill. The air is thick with elementals. They tell me that more accidents will occur in the streets than inside houses. This I can tell Zebra tomorrow morning, since we will already be heading home.

I think of all the nice people I have met in Marinduque, especially the workshop participants. I know that I have touched their lives in many, special ways.