Fascinating Filipino Fare

My Mother's side of the family has been known for serving a good table at any occasion. Well, it did not hurt that my abuela Aurelia owned and operated a restaurant for over fifty years. I remember taking my vacation at San Jose de Buenavista in the Province of Antique as a child, and before first light, the household would already be active to prepare the day's menu.



Unlike the more western concept of what a usual restaurant set-up is, which requires food to be cooked as you order, the average hometown restaurant in early 1950s Philippines had a set menu that was cooked in mass quantities everyday and displayed inside a glass 'escaparate' or display cabinet for people to choose from. By 10:30 to about 11:00am, the viands prepared or cooked in sauces like Menudo [porked stewed with vegetables in tomato sauce], Caldereta [often spicy meat stew], and Callos [tripe stew with garbanzos, poatoes, and bell peppers] need to be displayed at the escaparete and the soup based ones like the sour soup Sinigang -still piping hot- are ladled straight from their cooking pots. Customers would arrive and take a look at the escaparate and would point to what they wish to be served; perhaps the root of the term Filipino term turo-turo -the word turo literally meaning 'point at'- which is a common name for the local eateries of late.



Ihe images contained in this post were taken during the fiesta celebration at Balay de los Reyes last May 1st. My Abuela's restaurant has ceased operations since 2003, but when we can, we cook the food that she was known to have served and served best. With the many changes that have transpired through the years, the Barefoot Baklesa is thankful that the only constant thing is the food we have learned to cook and serve. And thank God for Nanay Elsie for keeping the recipes alive.





Food has always been a universal thread in all human contact. A guest is served the best cut of meat, the family's best dish, or is treated to a local specialty when he arrives. The Filipino and Thai people are best known for their hospitality, mentioned more than one foreigner to the Barefoot Baklesa. A telltale sign that we have not totally lost our openness as a people -a trait often misconstrued as a failure by some critics of Filipino lapses in judgment. But to hell with that, says the Barefoot Baklesa -we are here to celebrate he best of the Filipino, aren't we?

The Barefoot Baklesa would like to take a closer look at Pinoy food culture the many facets that made it the way it is, thus expect some more cuisine culture related posts soon.


thus spake the Barefoot Baklesa

we must cry: "Two Big White Tears" [Due Grosse Lacrima Bianche]

A song can go many ways, and we remember certain songs if they speak clearly of the condition of the heart that hears it. This song is quite old, but I believe it deserves to be heard once more.

My friend Dennis introduced me to this song not more than a day ago. By the first few bars, I was mesmerized by the song and the voice; and I asked him if he could translate it for me. Here it goes...

Nostre cuore dicevi sempre
Non è una stanza che si affitta
Noi ci lasciamo, la stanza è vuota
La porta aperta resterà

Due grosse lacrime bianche
Come due perle del mare
È tutto quello che a me rimane di te

D'amore, no, non si muore
Per non sentir la tua voce
La testa sotto il cuscino io nasconderò

Come un lampo che apre il cielo
Ho visto chiaro in mezzo al buio
Solo d'amore, no, non si muore
Ridendo, me l'hai detto tu

Due grosse lacrime bianche
Come due perle del mare
È tutto quello che a me rimane di te

Due grosse lacrime bianche
Che non faranno rumore
Perché le ultime sai non pesano mai

Our heart, you always said
Is not a room that we rent out
We left each other, the room is empty
The door will stay open

Two big white tears
Like two pearls from the sea
Is all that you left me

No, you don't die because of love
I don't want to hear your voice
I'll hide my head under my pillow

Like a flash that opens the sky
I saw you clearly in the middle of the dark
No, you don't die only because of love
You taught me how to laugh

Two big white tears
Like two pearls from the sea
Is all for me that's left from you

Two big white tears
That won't make a noise
Because the last ones are never heavy,
you know...




~oh how my heart sings this song now... just for the heck of it. Hehehehehe...

thus spake the Barefoot Baklesa

this is just too good not to share...

"Blessings on your friends,
and blessings on your enemies.
Turn their hearts.
If the Lord wont turn their hearts,
We'll ask the Lord to turn their ankles,
So you'll know them by their limp!"

~Ancient Irish Blessing


I pass thee this blessing and go and see who will be limping...Bwahahahaha!!!


Thus spake the Barefoot Baklesa

posting drought is that you?

Lately, i don't know if it's a combination of being busy with sudden bouts of procrastination that has been hindering me from posting anything new or maybe i have nothing with any sense to go on about; But trust me, my readership rates at google analytics have been dipping -not that it's much but i do enjoy the clicks... come on, we're not out here blogging just for our personal pleasure to read -that would be too absurd even to the vainest of all of us.

So I leave you with something to think about today, because I have been stuck with certain pages of my book and it's taking a while to write/move on:

"Like are we writing for Art?
And is Art a springboard for fame?
And will fame give us a paycheck?
And will a paycheck mean that we're sellouts?
And if we sellout, will they yell out me and you?"

-Title of Show




thus spake the Barefoot Baklesa

I must be making sense to someone out there...

Remember how I often refer to my postings as "the swirling mist in my head"? Well, i often wonder if what i'm going on about here makes sense to some, or if I seem to be blabbering on about random things that catch my fancy, or getting emotional and passionate about -well, just about anything...

Just now, I found a curious message in my inbox... it was a long read, and a juicy one at that. Before I actually make a response to his dilemma, I'm going to ask him if I can feature it in The Barefoot Baklesa blog. I think what he went through and what I have to say about it I reckon is something we can all learn from.

Until then, i leave you with Bernadette Peters singing "Not A Day Goes By" from Sondheim's Merrily We Roll Along




thus spake the Barefoot Baklesa

The Barefoot Baklesa Cooks: 001 Three Mushroom and Grilled Eggplant Pasta

I decided to start a recipe series since The Barefoot Baklesa was actually cooking lasagna barefoot when his dear friend, Sandro Lopa, called him The Barefoot Baklesa for the very first time. It was a few days to Halloween back in 2006 when that came to be... And just this evening, I experimented on something that deserves to be the first recipe to post.

The Barefoot Baklesa's Three Mushroom and Grilled Eggplant Pasta
[serves 3 to 4 very hungry people]
You will need:


250 grams button mushrooms, sliced
250 grams straw mushrooms, quartered
200 grams dried shitake mushrooms, rinsed twice and soaked in distilled water for at least one hour, rinsed a third time and soaked again in distilled water
two medium sized garlic bulbs, crushed and minced
4 large eggplants, whole
1 heaping teaspoon dried basil leaves, if fresh ones are available, then substitute 1/4 cup minced
1 and 1/2 cups of either vegetable, chicken, or beef broth -fairly concentrated. if not available, dissolve one instant broth cube in a cup and a half of hot water
4-5 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons tomato paste [optional]
2 tablespoons Balsamic Vinegar
Worcestershire Sauce
crushed red pepper flakes
500 grams cooked pasta in flavored pasta brodo, Barefoot Baklesa Style
salt, sugar, and pepper to taste
Grated Parmesan Cheese

1. Preparing the Eggplants
With a steel tong, take the eggplants and grill them directly above an open flame -the stove is best if you're in a rush, keep a good watch and turn them constantly. once most of the skin is singed to black and the eggplants are soft, take them off the flame and place them in a large container and cover with plastic cling wrap and let them steam for a few minutes. after they have steamed, take a clean damp kitchen towel or paper towel and run the eggplants against it -this will peel of the singed skin cleanly, if not automatically. chop the eggplants into half inch cubes then set aside.

Pasta Brodo, Barefoot Baklesa Style
in a pasta cooking pot, add the proper measure of water to cook your pasta, 1 laurel leaf, a pinch of dried basil leaves, 1 whole broth cube, a few teaspoons of salt -or subsitute liquid amino salts if you're watching your salt intake, a few drops of Worcestershire sauce, and a few teaspoons vegetable oil to prevent the pasta from sticking. allow to boil and cook pasta the usual way.



TIMING IS VERY IMPORTANT FOR THIS RECIPE, sautee only when the water is boiling and you have just put the pasta in to cook.

2. In a deep non-stick pan or skillet heat 4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, flavor the heated oil by sprinkling a dash of crushed red pepper flakes and allow to fry for a while; add garlic and sautee in medium heat until golden -take great care not to burn the garlic.


add in the basil leaves and allow to cook a little before adding the shitake mushrooms, the straw mushrooms, and the button mushrooms, allowing some time for each type of mushroom to cook. sautee for another minute or so after all the mushrooms are in the pan. shake in some Worchestershire sauce, salt, and pepper to taste.



Remember, other than the varieties of mushrooms with a woodsy flavor like the shitake or porccino, most farm cultivated mushrooms are bland and in some cases lightly sweet. thus they require some flavoring from the garlic and spices.

3. After that, add in the chopped grilled eggplants and your choice of broth and the 3 tablespoons tomato paste, bring to a boil and allow to simmer in medium heat for about 3-5 minutes. you will notice the sauce thicken due to the grilled eggplant breaking down during the cooking period. add the balsamic vinegar and allow to boil and simmer once again before stirring.


The tomato paste enhances the basil in the sauce while the balsamic vinegar balances the woodsy flavor of the mushrooms. you can add sugar upon what your taste requires.

4. By this time, the pasta will be cooked al dente. Drain the pasta using tongs or a kitchen spider, do not rinse, and mix them in with the sauce -don't worry about some of the pasta water going into your sauce -it's also flavored anyway.


5. Plate and top with grated Parmesan cheese and crushed red pepper flakes.

I also discovered cream cheese goes well with this when still warm... hehehehe!!!

I do hope you enjoyed my first in The Barefoot Baklesa Cooks Series

thus spake the Barefoot Baklesa

Oh gods oh gods, are you there? [text message banter during an unexpected april shower]

I just had to share these exchanges through text... It lifted my mood a little -considering the the week i have been having [having being the operative word], and give or take that the person on the other end was located in central luzon for that matter. Here goes:

Drake: Yehey! Mahal talaga ako ni Bro, ang lakas ng ulan, migs!

Niki: Teka lang, tatawagan ko si Bro ha, baka kasi si Shiva o si Vishnu ang may gawa.

Drake: Si Hades daw. Hehehe!

Niki: Mali, si Horus daw may gawa. Nadapa at nadali yung pitsel ni Santa Martha kaya bumuhos ang ulan.

Drake: Nabitawan nga ni Horus yung jug sa Pampanga. Lakas ulan may bits of ice pa o.

Niki: Nagalit si Santa Martha, best pitcher daw niya yon... Hahatawin yata si Horus ng basket of grapes.

Drake: Ako heto, sobrang tuwa. Sarap pakinggan ng mga kulog at makita Thunder bolts ni Tatay Zeus.



Well, primera lluve de mayo [the first rain of May] is hopefully around the corner... Here's praying to the heavens that this insufferable heat will pass... Soon.



Thus spake the Barefoot Baklesa

Can i just Say?

I slept in rather late, my body was a little worse for wear from the day before -unusually cold summer day that went all humid on me- But i woke up a while ago feeling as if the world is going my way. And that nothing, not even Uncle FreUd with a few lose screws in his head, can ruin this day...

I'd like to share this wallpaper from Bon Bon Underwear which pretty much sums up what I feel today...Enjoy!!!



Thus spake the Barefoot Baklesa

Thoughts of You...

"Once upon a time, I wanted to know what love was. Love is there if you want it to be. You just have to see that it's wrapped in beauty and hidden away between the seconds of your life. If you don't stop for a minute, you just might miss it."

~quoted from the movie CASHBACK

I think in the current state of things, I'm beginning to think that I keep doubting things too much, that I seem to not live in the moment, that I have certain fears about where this takes me...

But don't get me wrong, I'm in a very happy place -I have not been in a place remotely near there in like five years- thus the jaded and cynical shell of Barefoot Baklesa isn't one to shake off so easily.

There's really no such thing as a normal state of anything when it comes to love or loving -we are all weaklings and the wisest of us would not know better. Maybe that's why Shakespeare went as far as saying that "Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid's eyes painted blind." [A Midsumer Night's Dream]

Frailty, flaws, and futile-fruitless-fits of infatuation all seem funny to some but as we know, some people spend an enormous amount of energy just to be normal and be above these.

Here's me, trying to shake off this undesirable shell of fear and doubt.

Bawal na talaga ang aning-aning...Hahahaha!!!

[oh yeah, the video above is for emphasis...]


thus spake the Barefoot Baklesa

ten things in my gay mind: missing a few friends and some other things...

10.] Remember your Friendster account? Well, with so many beta and networking sites that have been popping-up, it has become quite a chore to deal with the nitty-gritty of that site. I mean, when did Friendster become FS? And when did it become so loaded? Here I am still trying to figure out Facebook and I never realized how much FS had a major face-lift, pardon the pun.

For the longest time, i have just been logging on to Friendster, just to see if the site's still up, but have never bothered updating the contents. To get to my point, there i was going through the dust bunnies, cobwebs, and the corpse of a dead friend by a corner [kidding!] when I started checking out my messages in the inbox.

And there it was, this simple e-mail that prompted this blog post and it read, "Hey Niki, here's my number _ _ _ _ _. Text me, okay?"

And sorting through a dozen or so more messages, I read another e-mail, sent earlier than the previous one, answering the same e-mail message I had sent him long ago. And I must say, after reading them both, i was touched.

You see, Robert is not the type of friend that i have spent innumerable hours with bonding as friends would. I met him under the circumstances of digits and e-mails; yet he is as dear to me as someone I have spent a lifetime of friendship with. He's a person that's not hard to like; and he has this very positive vibe about him. I appreciated his sincerity, the helping hand he extended during my brief stint at ABS-CBN, and the many musings about almost anything exchanged during coffee breaks and lunch hour. And it did not hurt that he was Ilonggo and could also speak Kinaray-a as well...

Robert strikes me as a traveller in this lifetime. Having kept in touch after working for the other network, I have seen the guy juggle with staying in the Ateneo or leaving the Ateneo, learning to be a pilot [i gotta ask what became of that], attend what seemed to be fun parties, come back from whichever corner of the world he decided to explore -such things that I only associate with him.

In the simplest exchanges, catching-up, and just letting the other know what's up, Robert has earned a spot in my heart for being genuine amidst the distance.

I believe that there are people in this life we don't seem so obviously connected to, but they are bound to us eitherway. If there is a next lifetime, It would be nice to find him there as souls get reincarnated with the same set of souls from a previous life. [But I'm babbling again, and we must proceed]

This is to you, Robert... I'll call you in a while. [oh yeah, i just had to post your photos here.... Hahahahaha!!!]

9.] We had dinner at Alba's in West Gate, Alabang a few hours ago... That was one to clog the arteries, Hahahahahaha!!! Thanks, Owee!!!

8.] I have been staring at the plans for the Cathedral I'm doing consultancy for, for days now... I had better get a move on...

7.] I miss my friend Ara... I hear she's making a name for herself as a maquillage expert/artist. Apparently, she just got back from the US for some more training. She was the first friend I called "Kagandahan" as a term of endearment... We have shared many-a-sleepless nights doing production work for Tanghalang Ateneo during our day.

6.] On my way from Greenbelt Five yesterday, i chanced upon a fellow intellectual and kindred soul whom I call Tita Maggie [Margarita Muñoz-Shih]. I have not seen her in three years! Such a classy lady, I tell you. Her poise, her bearing, and her fashion sense: she was wearing this fabulous empire-cut teal green blouse tailored to produce such a clean silhouette. And the green complimented her mestiza complexion so well. And her purse was to die for... I'm beginning to sound like a gay cliche ergo I must stop now.

5.] Tita Maggie informed me that Tito Jorge [also a kindred soul and beloved friend] is currently in the hospital; and that his mother passed-away two days ago. May God grant eternal rest upon her soul. I'll see you soon, Tito Jorge...

4.] The rain does wash away many things... and it has ways to stir the heart...

3.] What the F_ _ _ is with this Korina Sanchez and Senator Mar Roxas engagement hooplah. I am sick to death of this contrived spectacle complete with tears on Mar Roxas' cheeks!!! Im sure, the senator took an acting workshop to learn how to "cry on cue"! i want to know who was the acting teacher who taught him and give him a telling because the tears aren't genuine enough. [insert image of the Barefoot Baklesa hunting down insufferable second-rate acting workshop teacher... Hahahahaha!!!]

2.] Apparently, leche flan [caramel flan] and French-pressed coffee make for a great 4:00am snack.

1.] Finally, to end on a more happier note, my cousin Amy said "Yes" to Steve; I just found out on Facebook a while ago. Congratulations on the engagement and here's wishing thee all the best.



...thus spake the Barefoot Baklesa

ang santa mo ba ay a-attend ng JS Prom? [a post semana santa look at the many be-sequined processional images I encountered]

One of my pet peeves when watching holy week processions is when the processional images are robed in be-sequined fabric… I don’t understand what the fascination is with these razzle-dazzle bolts of fabric acting as textile disco mirror balls that they make their way into the wardrobe of the saints that come out during the processions.



It’s one thing to want your image to stand out; it’s another to dress them in fabrics meant to be worn by a dance sport contestant. Now, I have nothing against sequins and sequined fabric. In fact, the sequin’s closest relative, the flat-spangles, have made it into many of my designs including those raining cherry blossoms I once did for a children’s musical. But this is not the finale to Jesus Christ Superstar, people. This is a procession that’s supposed to commemorate the very foundation of your faith, not some Mardi-Gras parade… Fat Tuesday was about nearly forty days ago and dancing samba at Carnevale is way past the drunkenness



If you analyze the very aesthetics of Philippine Santo Art, these images were originally dressed in lush velvets and rich brocades with gold embroidery and patchwork. The use of sequins was merely for accents to substitute for the expensive gold thread embroidery. I think it was about the disco era when these fabrics started appearing. I remember seeing a lot of these used in the movie Flash Gordon when I was a kid. And I reckon, ever since disco, nothing has ever been the same… Fabrics covered entirely in sequins have then been a staple in some processional image’s wardrobe.



On the drive to the airport yesterday, my friend Mike told me, “Hindi ko lang I-post ang mga photos ka mga Santa nga ma-attend sang JS Prom sa Flickr.” [translated: “I won’t be posting photos of those Saints who will be attending the Prom on my Flickr site.”]. To which I responded with raucous laughter… Unfortunately Mike, I’m not above that. Thus with this blog, I have posted away!!! Hahahaha…

Another friend of mine hath observed that this is often the case in some provincial towns where the general public’s impression of a good processional image is one that is shining and shimmering -unfortunately I shall hold the use of the world splendid as they are far from the mention of it. This year, I had used sequins in the Good Friday robe of my Saint Mary of Bethany, but as accents against the all-black template of her robe; I wouldn’t dare use more than 6 square inches of sequins as they do have the danger of making the clothes tacky.

Maybe this kind of reaction was fuelled by an event last Holy Thursday when one of the images of another family dressed in gold sequined fabric -which arrived late at the line by the cathedral and messed up the established line- was passing by, and the son of the owner had the gall to look at me from head to foot with an eyebrow raised and rather judgmental eyes. But, the Barefoot Baklesa responded with a look that said all these: “Look at my Saint, she’s wearing hand-painted chiffon with Italian silk brocade, and we don’t use plastic flowers like you.” -all achieved within a slight raising of the chin and the left eyebrow… Oh, we can be such vicious queens.




Thus spake the Barefoot Baklesa

Between You and Your God [the barefoot baklesa responds]

this is a post I composed in response to The Catholic Ordination of the Filipino from The Coconuter's Blog [just click on the title to read it]. The photo of the sliced tomatoes are for emphasis...


First, I would like to point out that I refuse to draw lines between other people's beliefs and mine. At this point in my life, I do not see anyone's God and/or gods any less than mine.

I am gay, and a Roman Catholic. If that's not fucked-up enough to some, then heap the pyre if you have to and burn me. I'm not looking down on anyone, but you see, I was educated by the Jesuits and raised in a purely Roman Catholic family with two priests for uncles. I guess that afforded me the insight I have now, as mentioned above.

The days of the gods of old are gone, Bulalakao, Saragnayan, Idianale, Makaptan, Si-Dapa, Kasaray-sarayan-sa-silgan, Lakampati, and these hosts of immortals have long since left the minds of the Filipinos. They are but mere anecdotes and mentions in rare literature books as but mythology and legend -that still, tragically are less recognized by the Filipino youth as part of their heritage. Animistic in nature, the Spaniards found out that the best way to evangelize the 16th century Filipino was to use the Church's first weapon during the age of the Counter-Reformation: ART. They began bringing religious images that replaced the wooden idols of old, the unearthly pallor of ivory in rich robes decorated in gold replaced the 'larauan' and the 'tawu-tawu' [literally, 'parang tao']. The suffering hero who rose above his trials told in the epics of olde was replaced by the suffering Christ who died and resurrected in the gospels. These have contributed to what I call "Folk Catholicism". And the Filipinos have embraced these for generations to come.

In my early 20s I suddenly saw all this organized religion as a pointless waste of time and I began to explore the many other things out there that peaked my curiosity. The Jesuits taught me that every human being has the right to doubt and discover for himself the worth of any truth. With this, I began studying other people's truths, religions, Buddhism, Zen philosophy, the occult, and I even learned how to read Tarot Cards in their many disciplines: modesty aside, I was so good at it, people from UP were visiting me at the Ateneo where I hung out to have their cards read.

My family never gave me flack for it. What did my family think of it? They thought being gay was enough a burden to hurdle in my maturity and to throw religion into the pot would be unwise. They let me be...In respect to the faith that my family had held on to, I became nominally-Catholic, and did my best for the sake of appearances. Yet all the experiences, knowledge, and insight I have acquired, it was all waxing emptiness.

But then, one day, for a brief moment in time, I felt genuinely that God actually walked the earth. There was this silence that I felt down from my skin to my very soul, an unexplainable yet somewhat eerie silence that had struck me so, that I knew it was time to go home.

So I went into Quaipo church, and I just sat there for hours, asking God to take me as I am where I knew him best. I am not chaste nor do I claim to be entirely pure, and I'm sure the Pope has a lot to say about me if he had the chance. But that's between me and my God, I chose to stay Roman Catholic because that is where I found him -As much as any man, can find Allah, Vishnu, Kami, Asaka, and Nirvana where they can find them.

True, the Roman Catholic Church can seem to be stuck in the middle ages when it comes to certain things. But what most of us fail to realize is that it was one of the first to admit that it must change with the times -too slow at certain times. It apologized for the trials of Galileo, it apologized for the mistakes of the Holy Inquisition, and is continually studying its mistakes in the line of history. It has corrected many an issue with dogma and doctrine which some Filipinos chose to ignore not because they are blind but because they often see that as secondary to the relationship they find with God. Then there's that issue with birth control that's really got my wand in a knot as well as many things that require a second look but I keep my hope for the better.

If you claim to have had a personal connection with Jesus Christ but still are quick to judge those who have none with him, then you may have lost the point that to practice any faith is a continued learning experience. Let them learn their mistakes and misconceptions and let them decide for themselves. Who are we to tell them their faith is less when they have seen its power in their lives.

If you judge my Church as like any business, then you must have met the LaSallian brothers and studied at a LaSallian school for a while like I have, and got jaded. Hahahaha!!! But you see, that's another cliché within myself I have to hurdle and no one else's business. Yet seriously, then I would be so gay to point out 'in taray' how Born Again Pastors also live off on the tithes from their congregation, or how some families of friends from Christian sects follow that 10% to the point of financial imbalance, or maybe I should pick-on the defined rules for giving money to the service of Allah, or the money we spend on ourselves for pointless things when children in Africa are starving -No one wins in arguments like these.

A lot of people think they are entitled to the pedestal to speak ill of society's ill yet would not lift a finger for they think they have done their part in helping the plight of the poor by voicing out. I don't want to sound like that self-righteous Pharisee from the parable, but have you actually gone out there and taught English and Math to underprivileged kids during the summer? Have you volunteered in a provincial hospital for a Medical and Surgical Missions? Have you ever deprived yourself of something so that someone else could have it? And we're not talking about sandwiches or you half-finished soft drink here... People who have an opinion of what's wrong in this world are often those who do it much damage.

Right now, the table I share, I share with some Christian Friends, some Roman Catholic friends, an Eclectic Believer, a full blooded Muslim Prince, and even an Atheist...And you don't see us brewing another world war or modern crusades. Respect begets respect.

While some of you are off to Puerto Galera, Boracay, or Bali this Holy Week, some of us choose to be of service to our Faith. You're more than welcome in my home or maybe I'll see you in the processional line.

thus spake the Barefoot Baklesa
Niki de los Reyes-Torres

That Last Piece of Your Broken Heart [believing in a deeper love]

This is for you, you know who you are…

It started out with this, “Hey, are you still awake?”

The reply came sometime in the late afternoon of the next day, “Hi Niki, sorry for the late reply. I donated blood yesterday kaya medyo lutang me since last night… What’s up? Please text back.”

To which I responded, “I just want to know if you’re okay. When you left the seminary, it was never clear to me why. I couldn’t ask you the first few times since we have been in contact again.”

The response was rather complicated.

We had agreed to meet the Friday next, to finally see each other. All this time, we seem to have been just reading each other’s blogs and sending each other these ubiquitous obligatory greetings during Christmas for the last five years. Has it been that long since we saw each other last? One thing’s for sure, we just drifted apart. The sun had set and the shadows have fallen on each day of those last five years. Days too many to count, faces and places changing, yet what is true and lasting did certainly endure.

But Friday next seemed too far away, and I took a stab in the dark. “Tomorrow,” I said. “If you can make it, I’m just at home. I can make you some lunch.” I really did not hold-out much hope for that one for that tomorrow was Friday the 13th.

13 still is my lucky number. It’s the number of my house after all…

And there you were in front my gate today, wearing a smile on your face, yet it was not the smile I used to know. As I held you once again, ever so tightly, I realized that we are not as we once were; and that the pain of the years I have held seem to drift with the unusually cool breeze that blew on today, disregarding the summer that had begun.

It was nice to hear your voice again. I had not told you that a few years ago, I woke up one morning trying to remember what your voice sounds like; it seemed insignificant to tell that afternoon. It was nice to see the wonder in your eyes when I was mixing up the wasabi paste with the mayonnaise. It was nice to see you laugh at the fuss I made getting the food ready. I really had thought none of it, fussing over the details of that meal.

What mattered was there you were again, sitting across me, trying to squeeze in as much of the five years we’ve missed while certain sentiments had to be said. It’s funny how the usual drama haunts us again.

You’ve always been the good boy, with a fixed set of life goals and a certain set of rules to live by. I have always admired that about you. But I felt as if that has held you back from truly living for yourself, from doing things the way you wanted, and from enjoying your life. You were surprised how I came up with this conclusion even way before you got to the complications of your -dare we call it- ‘quarter-life’ crisis? Yet I was also surprised to find out how you’ve been moving around the country trying to find yourself these past few months. It was quite amusing when you regaled opting to be a farming laborer; you would have looked so out of place there.

We had decided to watch a movie to let the time pass. ‘Taiyou No Uta’’ had been playing for a few minutes when you asked we should watch ‘The Love of Siam’ instead. “Really now, you know that movie?” I asked with such curious surprise. “I’ve heard about it,” you said. Because I don’t remember mentioning it to you at all. Of all the movies you would have chosen from, I thought to myself, you had to pick the one movie that has taught me to let you go.

Just like old times, there we were picking-on and musing over things we found interesting about the movie. I could read your laughter when Mew sang the lyrics, “You can’t write a love song when you’re not in love.” Funny how a few days ago, I was holding a copy of the script of a movie I had written for you.

“Is it possible that we can love someone, and never be afraid of losing them?” the movie asks.

I think it is… I believe it is.

And as much as reunions bring back waves of emotions within a person, I guard my thoughts. My first duty towards you is as your friend. I’ll take as much of your friendship as it comes for there is a part of me that knows you could go away again one day with nary a word, like you did once. Training to be a flight steward does not really assure anyone that you’re going to stick around. There’s a Japanese expression that if translated goes, “It can’t be helped.”

Indeed, it can’t be helped. You have asked me twice that day if I thought you really were that callous and insensitive in the past. I already knew you were, it just couldn’t be helped. That’s the tragedy with some good actors is that they go up on stage and they can bring your heart to places where it never knew existed, yet in real life, they can be so clueless. Knowing you as I do, every now and then, you’re capable of a deeper love. So, you’re not what you think you are…

The time came for you to make your way back to the metropolis, after seeing you off on the bus going to the metro, I went back home. I saw the garden hose and I thought I had to be a bit domestic and give the plants a little watering. “Water is good,” I thought to myself, “It washes away many things…” Then a neighbor’s jeep passes by playing that song by the Indigo Girls that goes, “So we’re okay, we’re fine. Baby I’m here to stop your crying. Chase all the ghosts from your head…”

What are the chances that the song I have associated with you would be blasting off some speaker at that exact time? Now isn’t that something?

So here I am, picking up that last shard of my broken heart… settling… not afraid of losing you another time. It’s not such a bad thing.

gays and dolls [not what you would expect]

"Kayong mga bakla talaga, kung hindi kayo magbibihis babae pagtanda niyo, mag-aalaga kayo ng mga Santa."
["You gays... It's either you dress up as girls when you get older, or you end up taking care of images of female saints]

A mother of a dear friend of mine once commented on how most of the owners and caretakers of processional images happen to be gay. She herself has a cousin who has a personal chapel with his own collection of processional images he takes out during the Holy Week processions [thus quoting her above]. For all the non-Filipinos or the non-Catholics out there reading this, you have to understand how much Lent is a big deal to a fair portion of the gay population in the Philippines.



Aside from the Flores de Mayo or Santa Cruzan -a tradition wherein beautiful young women would dress up in their finest ball gowns and would promenade or walk through the streets at the end of the month of May representing heroines christian legend and apocryphal traditon to commemorate Empress Helena's quest for the true cross of Christ- [of course the cross dressers also have their own version of this and they often give the real ladies a run for their tiara -now isn't that ironic? the true cross and cross dressers?], Lent also enjoys a place of importance in the hearts of many a gay men here. You ask why?

Well, it's either the gay population converges to Puerto Galera or Boracay during the Maundy Thursday and Good Friday break to do a Gays Gone Wild or some of them take on the Herculean task of taking out the religious images they own or are obligated to. No judgements here...to each his own.

I own three processional images myself [featured in the photos with this blog]. When I was a kid, I used to dream of having my own processional image as I saw the owners take out their rebultos dressed in the richest fabrics and fine array. So, when the opportunity -and the money- came, it was just a matter of which one came my way first.

My cousin once blurted out, "Let me take a picture of you with your doll." and I suddenly went, "What?" -She thought I got offended or something but it was more of me realizing that she actually had a point. I know a few people who treat their images like they were life-sized Barbie dolls entirely missing the point that these were blessed images representing or commemorating the men and women who played a role in the life and passion of Christ. This kind of got me thinking about my obligation to beauty in the context of my religion and spirituality... then again, I do tend to over think things therefore expect a follow-up to this post. oh well...



thus spake the barefoot baklesa

Celebrating Candlemass with Gratitude

Simeon's Canticle featuring Celia Uy from the album HANGAD



Our Lady of the Candles [Nuestra Senora de Candelaria], miraculous image from the cathedral of Jaro, Ilo-Ilo City, Philippines

Today, the 2nd of February, the Roman Catholic Church celebrates the Feast of Candlemass -represented by Our Lady of the Candles [Nuestra Senora de Candelaria]- and "The Presentation of the Child Jesus". For me, this is the official end of the Christmas season [i got that from the mexicans and actually, it's also an excuse to keep my christmas decorations and displays mounted for an extra month].

As a child, I learned about an old man named Simeon who was told by God that he would see the chosen one, the Messiah, in his lifetime. Years would pass, and Simeon faithfully waited for that child to be brought to the Great Temple at Jerusalem. Then a couple arrives bearing their first-born to presented to God with nothing but two turtle doves as offerings[thus the famous two turtledoves in that ubiquitous christmas carol]. And upon seeing this boy, he utters:

Luke 2:29-32

29 Now lettest thou thy servant depart, Lord, According to thy word, in peace;

30 For mine eyes have seen thy salvation,

31 Which thou hast prepared before the face of all peoples;

32 A light for revelation to the Gentiles, And the glory of thy people Israel.



It's late in the afternoon here where I'm composing this blog; and in places where the Lady of the Candles is venerated, the celebrations have begun as early as 4:00 o'clock in the morning. This year, i am unable to come to Jaro Cathedral where I keep constant pilgrimage. But it's not a matter of being there physically, but more of a matter of faith.

But I'm going to add to that faith, an amount of gratitude. Gratitude for the fierce friends that have stood by me, for the life i am living, for the love i am receiving, for the family i am given, and for the many things that have been bestowed upon me and those which i shall look forward to receiving. I have no complaints, not everyone has the life I'm living.

So here's to you, Catholic, Christian, Buddhist -whatever your denomination is or even if you have none at all, I wish upon thee the blessings of this day. And may you find the opportunity to share it.

the barefoot baklesa gets wasted for the first time this year!!!

this one is for the books!!!




You know what else is good about getting wasted? Getting wasted with a great friend around at a great friend's birthday bash!!! I'm like the last person one would expect to pick up a karaoke/videoke microphone; but at Owee's house, i held on to that microphone like there was no tomorrow...thanks to Char, who accompanied at the microphone that night; until next time, dear.

My friend Sandro and I took a ubiquitous "wasted at the party photo" -posted above- just in case the world needed incriminating evidence against the expectation that the barefoot baklesa doesn't get wasted...hahahaha!!! Someone even asked Sandro and I if we were related, I guess that's saying a lot about how genuine a friendship is. Indeed that is one thing to be grateful for.

On the other hand, I haven't been this wasted in like... forever!!! It's nice to let loose and let your guard down in a place where you know you're safe and in great company [that's the third time I used the word 'great' in this blog...wait, let me count...okay, four, including the one within the bracket]. I guess that's how cautious I have been lately...

the barefoot baklesa shares, [#002]

"You cannot prevent the birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair."

~ Chinese Proverb

If you think about it, this is one for those of you who like to wallow in your own misery... Then again, that's also been a guilty pleasure of mine: to wallow. Hahahaha!!!