camp john hay
August 28, 2007
catesbool
i woke up this morning feeling the hushed stillness in the air. with great reluctance, i set about my day, beginning with a warm shower in the spacious bathroom of manor hotel in baguio city.
the day, it seems, was bent on starting me on a path of great recalls. the shower reminded me of seinpost, my home at the beach with dina, kazuyo and avie. the same silver model with the same adjustments. except of course, the water coming out from it. when the water hit me this morning, it did not have the strong odour of chlorine and it was not accompanied by the howling singing of the north wind outside. there were only the noises coming from neighbouring rooms.
as i was shampooing my hair, a familiar blood sucking insect came into my line of vision and clung upon the wet walls of the bathroom. bloody big mosquito the size of a baby dragonfly. i only saw them in the netherlands and i seem to have that sense of deja vu when i hit it splat against the wall. for a moment, the tiles on the walls turned white and i was trying to look for that weird looking toilet bowl which is uniquely dutch. another hit of warm water on my head and i hit earth again with a thud. i was in ne-i-therland again.
i got dressed, sure at the thought that any minute now, i would hear the insistent buzzing on my door, rommel in tow and telling me it’s time to go to class. of course, this is just an echo in my mind (and the bloody singer just seems to want to sing about it just now, as his melodious voice creeps into my consciousness straight from the hotel restaurant about ten feet on my left while i sit here writing inside the cubicle known as the hotel’s business center).
as my roommate took her turn inside the bathroom, i opened the floodgates of light by drawing the curtains open. i had the pleasure of looking at a much nicer garden, so much nicer than the one i had in bazarlaan. instead of being greeted by the sight of iss sitting idly by up on my line of vision, a misty mountain view presented itself to me as if telling me that it was placed there for me to conquer. so much about melodramas.
i went outside to take some photos. it was just 7 a.m. early enough for my dead brain to play its tricks on my sense of reality. but not too early enough to make me want to reach out and simply stand in the cold, basking in the coldness of the gentle morning air while i listened closely to the sighing of the birds and the tinkling sound of water running from a small fountain nearby.
i had seen this hushed morning stillness before. i was part of it for about 11 months as i sat through beautifully depressing mornings inside my kitchen waiting for class hours to begin. i had thought i had purged myself of these memories because of the constricting way they reminded me of what it feels like to be truly in a moment of unrestraint.
a gentle mist quickly descended in the air, making me shiver. it was time. i walked back inside the room, locked the sliding doors and drew the curtain to a close. there are days when you simply let your mind play tricks on you. but i did not want to forget this time my unreality. i picked up my things. business awaits. i closed the door, hearing nancy’s words telling me i never should forget what is real and what is not.
i still have miles to go before i sleep.. and i still have promises to keep…
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