Let's start with a Plath quote

"I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart: I am, I am, I am"

I'm writing this because today, I gave up. I suffered 5 minutes of pure, unadulterated pain under the hands of a callous nurse when changing my dressing. The pain in the stump subsided right after he left but it crept through my heart. For about half an hour, I wept. I grieved the loss of my independence, wept for the pain that is coming in the next few days, weeks, months, shamed of the brave front I have been wearing, I just want it all to stop. I want to hit pause, rewind and get back to the last day of my old life. But it doesn't work that way, thus the quote.

Now, I just want to write about the things I look forward to when this is all over. Instead if hitting rewind, let's fast-forward, shall we?

1. I miss the love-love kisses from my nephew when I come home at 12 midnight. Like her tita, my nephew, who calls me Ate, is a raging insomniac. The love-love sessions usually occur after I hand over my daily pasalubong, him giving me a bear hug and a thousand kisses, me pretending to be absolutely disgusted . I miss dancing along with him to Glee songs (we love Valerie) and singing along to metal (Korn and Nine Inch Nails preferably). I vow to bring Oreos and Yakult everyday and resist the temptation to make him cry because he looks so freaken' adorable when he does.

2. I miss street food - kwek-kwek, banana-q, fishballs/squidballs/chickenballs sa fire station, barbeque sa kanto ng zoble, inihaw na hotdog na iba ang lasa kesa prito sa bahay. Fine, titirahin ko na din ang isaw, balut at betamax. I wanna go back to Elbi and eat Pappu's siomai, orlian sa grove, proven malapit sa whitehouse, fried siomai sa sEx, Mernel's cake, Bugong sa Vega.

3. I miss my legs. Not just the amputated one, but the pre-tabatsoy legs. My mom used to hoard Avon lotions to undo my tween bakokang days. Growing up with three brothers and dozens of male cousins, I had my collection of scrapes and scars and my mother's biggest fear is that I grow up with ugly legs. Yep, my momma didn't aspire that I grow up pretty or smart or talented, just that I grow up with amazing legs. Sorry Ma, after the physical therapy and all that, mag-lolotion ako araw-araw.

   

4. I miss artsy-fartsy nights -- red horse Saguijo nights with George, Cubao X with Alejandro and Kuch, bottles of wine with Brandy and Monet at The Collective. I have yet to dine at Van Gogh is Bipolar and experience an earth jam at Ayuyang. I will hold movie marathons at my house based on directors and film genre and compare people's reviews before and after they were drunk.  I draw the line at slam poetry nights, though.

5. Speaking of movies, I will watch more 3D movies with Bebe, alhtough it gives me one hell of a headache. Can somebody tell me which is better - putting your eyeglasses under or over the 3D glasses?

6. I miss MEMA lunch (dinner?) dates with Madamme and Paige and the daily piece of heaven that is Ricelab's lemon square. Also, the daily tsismis-fests with Jake, Esgee, Arls and Mich at the pantry when I'm having my first coffee at lunchtime. I now lift the boycott  for the food provider at the Ops pantry after the catering brouhaha, because I heard they have great viands sometimes.

7. I miss cooking pasta at 2am, when the hunger pangs strike and the ulam in the fridge just won't suffice. I learned how to cook during the godforsaken early hours of dawn. I still follow Jillian's menudo recipe to the letter and use adobo mix instead of the real vinegar/soy sauce deal, but what the heck. I didn't say I learned how to cook WELL.

8. I will shop for more shoes. Nothing beats the rush of buying something pretty and is there a more beautiful thing that a new pair of shoes? I'll probably buy flats for the rest of my life, but hey, I already had my day of rocking slamming stilletoes.

9. I will climb the Great Wall of China, dammit. I have purchased several tickets to Beijing on numerous occasions, only to have the trip cancelled for whatever reason. I will learn how to use chopsticks (my new year's resolution for the last seven years). I'm salivating at the thought of the noodles and duck and dimsum  waiting for me in China.

10. We will have more family trips - to Boracay on Devin's next brithday, picnics at the Lamesa Dam, Enchanted Kingdom on Christmas, the Aguilar-Abad family outing in Laiya, hitting the buffets with my brothers, the promised Disneyland trip with Bebe  - probably next year na lang Beb :-(

11. Lastly, I will walk the aisle on Kit's wedding. Payat na ko by that time. And hold my first niece in my arms when she arrives in November.

There, I'm over it. I will probably give up again tomorrow so I might have another list. Or I can file a restraining order against the nurse. If only I can remember how he looks like. Shoot, they all look the same.

The last day of my Old Life

 
It started out beautifully. I woke up at 7am, had a leisurely breakfast of (our favorite) stir-fried noodles with heavenly Cambodian coffee with a Pinay traveller, whom I met on my way to Siem Reap. She is on her way to Bangkok, which leaves me, for the first time. alone in my 5-day "solo" trip. I made plans with the hotel tuktuk driver, Vey, to take me back to the Angkor complex at 8:00am, with a rented bicycle in tow.

I don't remember feeling so calm in my entire life, the crisp wind on my face, both my feet up in the tuktuk, the promise of a whole day revisiting my favorite temples at my own pace left me feeling giddy. Ah, La Vie Boheme. My demanding yet so alluring mistress.

Vey dropped me off near the complex (cheater) so I can pedal my way to the Wat proper. I stopped for pictures, waved to foreigners and locals alike. When I arrived at Angkor Wat, I deposited my bike with Vey and braced myself for my first step towards my beloved Angkor.

I am not a spiritual person, still am not, but there's something about temples that moves me to tears. I decided to connect with the Wat not just emotionally but physically. I'm barefootin' my way today.

I picked up my trusted Havs and shoved it in my bag and took my first step on the bridge that spans the moat. I didn't care about the stares from some tourists. I'm not the one wearing a long-sleeved shirt over a Tshirt and a stupid hat. Or kitten heels for that matter.

It took me an hour and a half inside the Angkor Wat. The top part was closed since it was a Buddhist holiday, so less tourists today, yay! I tried to sit down and read a book or write somehting, until I realized my stupidity. Why bother, when you have the most beautiful thing around you. I had no concept of time, of space, of social conventions. I didn't care if people saw me cry  nor did I care if they thought I was a lunatic everytime I touched the walls and sighed. I didn't take pictures either. Again,why bother? No camera or words are up to task.

Next stop, Angkor Thom to see my beloved elephants. Vey dropped me off at the entrance (majestic) so I can pedal my way inside. It was too late to ride an elephant as they already made their way up to the hill. To my surprise and utter delight, I caught glimpse of a couple of  late-riser pachyderms on their way to the entrance. Kandarapa ako sa pagbaba to get a clear shot. I was in heaven. Elephants charging their way towards me, in their full glory, no ugly tourists on board. I admired their grace, their majesty, their utter indifference to those who are disgusted by their bulk or smell. Until I felt a hand grab me out of the way. A couple of Cambodian policemen looked at me sternly, mad that they have to rescue a stupid girl from being trampled to death by elephants (how will they file the paperwork). I smiled guilelessly and pretended to be an airhead idiot (it totally pays!)

Next stop, Bayon, with the numerous faces of Buddha. Lord, ang dame. I lost count when a cute-ish Amboy asked if I want my picture taken, probably noticing my one-armed shots. I obliged, then felt the crushing disappointment when people fail to guess that I don't want my distended stomach in my shots. Cute ka pa naman, nagtiwala ako dahil may SLR ka. He asked why I'm barefoot, I replied I don't need shoes. He just said "cool" then walked away. Cool mo mukha mo :-)

All kinds of things went through my mind as I explored Bayon - kailangan masama ko si Bebe dito, I wonder if they allow overnight camping here, if I got lost here, will people think my bones are part of the display, if the Decepticons came back to destroy this place, I'm gonna go postal on their junk ass. But as I've said in a previous status, there are things so majestic, so overwhelming that it only demands utter silence. You just have to take it in, with an open heart, and just be thankful you are there, alive, to see it.

A lot more things happened for the rest of the day. I found the stall of the Cambodian girl I met on the bus in the old market and got schooled on real silk vs polyester blend. She got mad at the wackjobs who ripped me off by selling me polyester blends, I said it's okay, my friends won't know the difference too. I bought a few scarves and contemplated buying a painting of the Angkor Wat until I saw all the stalls in the market selling the exact same painting.

Another highlight, I tired to walk my way back from Pub street as the map looks pretty simple. Just my luck, as I was about to turn on my last street, it poured hard. My handy-dandy HC red umbrella crumpled after a few minutes. I decided to wait inside a mobile shop for a few minutes but since the rain shows no signs of stopping, I thought screw it. I secured my phone and my camera (may they rest in peace) inside a plastic bag, and walked in the rain. It felt good, a fitting counterpoint to a perfect day. I had an "aw" moment when I reached the guesthouse and found out that my tuktuk driver,Vey, tried to look for me in the Pub street vicinity when it started to rain.

While waiting for my pickup for the night bus (cue music of doom), I had the privilege of having dinner with a new arrival, Wesley from New Yahk. He is a veteran of the banana pancake trail but was retracing his steps as an adult and a student chef. He talked to me about going to market in Pnom Penh for a cooking class and finding himself the only white boy in the whole market, people sizing him up if he has a camera crew in hand or he is just what he actually is, a lunatic with balls. He said he was deeply enraged why, when he is in the greatest city in the world, with the highest per capita income, and they have the worst food in the world. I shared my sentiment that the poorest places has the best food because they have no choice. They have to extract flavors from the meager resources they have. Nagbo-Bourdain Bourdainan lang. We shared my last stick of smokes and bade each other happy travels.

Well, it must have been love but Wesley doesn't believe in facebook. We'll always have Siem Reap, char.

To those who may ask, I didn't feel any foreboding before I left. I just felt peace, joy and was incredibly grateful that I experienced everything I set out to do that day. And no, I didn't have any regrets either. As my new motto, life is short, eat pork. And chocolates, and amok, and chicharon bulaklak and broccoli and yes, even a fried tarantula, if that's what floats your boat.