Truly Thrilling Trillanes

Thursday November 29, 2007 is another eventful day. It was raining since last night until early today. I’m sure streets were flooded thanks to twins Mina and Lando

We left the house a bit late; I have a hard time waking up the kids. I was tuning on my am radio from left to right hoping that any DepEd officials will declare classes’ suspension on grade levels. Traffic is building up already just outside our village, direction heading to airport was hardly moving, flooded portions of road fronting the Casino. I ask my driver to turn right and will take the skyway instead to avoid flooded street near the NAIA airport.

It was almost half past seven in the morning when we arrive at Makati, my youngest daughter was crying already, worried that she won’t be able to go to her classroom since the gate maybe were already closed. She only stopped when she saw cars still lined up at Ponce Street, inside San Lorenzo, dropping off girls at Assumption College. After I saw my youngest daughter run to catch up with their daily "morning talks" and my second girl was on her way to her classroom, we left Sanlo and was on our way to Don Bosco church just outside of Sanlo to attend Mass. After the Mass, me and my Mom usually goes to Landmark to get our breakfast. Wait for my two little girls dismissal time, pick them up and go home. It was like the same ordinary day, not until my hubby called up. He told me that Tony Trillanes and Danny Lim were up to their antics again and holed up at Manila Pen (These guys have good taste when it comes to their choice of venue, last time was at Oakwood for Tony). I thought it would be the usual blah blah and not much will going to happen. My Mom a fan of Tony (fan for the lack of better word as "uzisera" she voted for him during the last national election) asked me since we were few hundreds of meters away from Manila Pen, if we could go atleast to Ramon Cojuanco Building and see if people were starting to gather. Since that was still early and was raining that time, not much people were there to lend support to Tony and Danny.

Me and my Mom were back at Landmark Dept. Store when the news broke out. AC’s text brigades were quick, informing parents of the dangers which were just more than a kilometer from our girls place. We learned that Police and Military are filling up near Makati Avenue preparing to confront the Magdalo Boys. As to how they will assault the Senator, no details but few speculations were ripe that they might use the "Septic Tank" of Manila Pen to flush out rebel soldier holed up at the hotel. Police report found out that it was very effective during the last G-2 blast.

Classes were suspended and I need to go back and get my girls. I have to make an urgent call to my driver to fetch us here in Landmark, I don’t want to go back and walk thru Glorietta. They still have this “septic tank” I would have thought so. (the true reason why I am skipping Glorietta is that my hubby was still keeping my x'mas shopping budget) It was almost 2:00 pm when I got hold of my two girls; the only gate that was open at Sanlo was the one at Savio, their Pasong Tamo exit. We have to deal with that and took a longer route, past 3:00pm and we were back in our place.

Right after cooking our dinner, I was able to see the drama in Makati as it unfolds. I have a better view in our living room than when I was out standing near the Ramon Cojuanco Building, wonders of live communications.

Tony Trillanes amuses me, since he had the guts to stand as to what he speaks of. No elected Senator with 200 million (pork barrel) annual budgets attached to his office for three years and a very promising political career will do as such. For what, just to bring change to his country and stand to what he believes in, I doubt if any Senator would do as such. Even Lito lapid, would have not thought of this concept in any of his movies. Much more of Bong Revilla, who was busy counting his children if it is almost half of what he's father have.

Tony Trillanes may be wrong or maybe right, but he proves to be the kind of man he was. With not much to gain but everything to loose, it took a lot of courage to do as such. Gregg Ohnasaan (opps, sorry, I have misspelled it, should be Honasan) never did that and was always missing (nasaan?) after any failed attempted coup.

It pains me to watch on TV, valiant uniformed men planning and assaulting the likes of Danny Lim and Tony Trillanes and with complete disregards for the safety of other people so that Gloria and his gangs could continue to plunder the wealth of our Country (my second daughter once asked me if she was really an “Assumptionista” and why was she always short in temper. Sister Maitel taught them the contrary).

Tonight Gloria will sleep with smile on her lips thinking that Filipino people can easily be bully, just run one APC and nobody will show even their sympathetic support to any valid cause.

I was in deep thought when Manang Sansa told me that dinner was ready.

Vigan City

Final Leg - The Northern Region Exciting Activities

Nightfall October 31, 2007. Streets were lighted already when we entered Vigan City. Hubby, our ever reliable driver since day one, was having problem with the van’s windows tint. It was him though who choose the medium colored tint. I don’t know if he was just tired after almost six days of traveling, since this was his first time to complain about the tint since day one. Early today we left Pagudpud at 10:30 AM to see the sight at Laoag and other Ilocos Norte towns. The last stopped we had was at Badoc, home town of Juan Luna. It was 6:30 in the evening, still rush hour at Vigan when we parked our van in front of Ilocos Sur Capitol Building. We were looking for two things. First was for Max’s restaurant and second was for our pre arrange accommodation in one hotel at Vigan which I don’t want to mention the name. The streets in Vigan were small and motorcycles were everywhere.

I had a chance to ask a middle age woman for direction going to our hotel and I was impressed since she gave me direction like she knows the place like the back of her palm. We decided to drop our things first at the hotel and then go back to have our dinner. From the woman’s direction we reached the hotel. Vigan’s most streets were very narrow and some of them have one way direction only, I felt its like very congested at Vigan’s city center.

The hotel turns out an old building converted to a hotel. Parking was at the back near the swimming pool. Main entrance going to the hotel is thru a small double opening door which was just a step away from the street. Inside you’ll find their reception counter. We were greeted by a staff at the counter. She gave me two rooms with three single beds. What I have reserved was for one unit with two bedrooms in it, which they have confirmed thru SMS early last week. The staff told me that the unit was not available since the Koreans who were supposed to check out today have changed their mind. None the less, she offered me if I wanted to see the rooms.

At the second floor of the hotel where our rooms are, there was a big receiving area with old furniture and chandeliers (ofcourse were in Vigan, what would I expect). It’s like a scene from typical Pinoy scary movie. It was Halloween that night and my son kept pestering his two little sisters with creepy stories about hunted house. My second daughter was acerbic when she asked her Dad, if he was sure if the place was a hotel or another ancestral house of the Marcoses. Three single beds were lined up inside the room. It has walls and floors made out of hard wood. The toilet was on one side and an air conditioner unit on the opposite side, a colored TV was hanging on the other wall. I heard my daughter again spoke in low voice “Dad, this is not an ancestral home but an ancestral public hospital” Hubby was quick in covering her mouth before the staff could hear her.

Hubby made an excuse to the staff and told her that we would just take our dinner outside and once done will come back. In no time were out again in the streets of Vigan looking for Max’s (the only familiar name in sight) with no intention of going back to that hotel. At the plaza, there was an “October Beer Festival” that night. The stage was fronting Max’s Restaurant and people started to gather, we could not parked in front so the guard had told us to drive around and parked at the back.

Inside the restaurant we saw one familiar group having dinner. They were one of the guests also during our stay at Apo Idon Hotel in Pagudpud. They told us that after dinner, they were heading for Manila since they have completed their Vigan tour. Fried chicken never tastes so good after 7 days of eating fresh vegetables and sea foods. Crispy Pata and Karekare were ordered, I guess kids have grown tired of Bagnet. Hubby had his Vigan Longanisa (my youngest girl fondly called this at Pagudpud as “shortganisa”). After dinner since Calle Crisologo was a block away from the restaurant, we went straight to see what it can offers. 6-Cycle Mind band was at the stage when we went out of the restaurant

As if time stood still at Calle Crisologo, holding hands while walking with my hubby (yhey…), we talk about how on earth they were able to keep these antiquated houses. It was a romantic scene walking on narrow cobbled stone on a calm night with my hubby. Street was well lighted with antique looking street lamps. Large capiz wooden windows can be seen at the second floor and some souvenir shops below these century houses. My girls were running after a Calesa, this was their first time to see and was very fascinated. My son was busy looking for souvenir bracelet or a bag; he wants to give it to his special friend once we got back to Manila. I saw my Mom very busy looking for bargains. She bought an Ilocos Blankets and told me that the price in SM was more than double than here. We walk a few hundred meters with my husband holding my hands; Mom took pictures of me with my hubby hugging me close on his arms. It was passionate not until my hubby softly whispers to my ears “I will keep you in my arms, there’s no way for you to do another souvenir buying spree”. I caught other local tourist attention when I blurted with a big laugh. Truly Vigan is a place like no other.

Vigan Plaza Hotel Looks modern but still has a Vigan appeal. Since it was Halloween eve and kids don’t want a creepy night, we stayed at Vigan Plaza and did not come back to the other hotel I mentioned a while back. The plan was to sleep and rest until late morning. Since the kids were tired after a long travel and Vigan has not much to offer that will be of interest to the kids, we decided to cut our trip by one day. Tomorrow after lunch we will leave for Manila. It has been a very long day; it was 10:00 in the evening when I turned off the lights.

Laoag City

Third Leg - The Northern Region Exciting Activities

Wednesday October 31, 2007. Today we travel back to explore Laoag City and the towns near to it. This was the third leg of our eight days “Northern Region Exciting Activities” tour.

How I wish every morning would be like this. Waking up my two daughters every morning is a challenge. I have to tell them countless times “ Wake up and we're late” before these girls would get out of bed. It would a bonus if one of them will not cry before getting up. Like these past few days, this morning, I just told them to wake up and the magic word “its time to go to the beach” and like magic, my two girls just rolled out of bed. After a breakfast with cereal and milk for my kids they were all ready to head for the beach. We always go out swimming early to avoid the heat of the sun. Good thing at Pagudpud, there were many trees along the beach that gives shades, even when you were at the water, from the heat of the sun on early hours. You just have to be there early to enjoy the golden white beach and escape the blistering heat of sun. At 8:30 AM were done swimming at the beach and having our breakfast at the restaurant. If only not were leaving today, the kids were in the pool for sure.

At 10:30AM we were almost done at Apo Idon, what were left was ofcourse are souvenir shots. Photos were taken at the hotel’s lobby, their staffs and at reception counter. Mrs. Romero, the Hotel owner, went out of her office to ask me if we had enjoyed our four days stay at their place of which I told her we had a grand time. I saw my hubby took something on his wallet and gave it to Belinda; she was one of the Apo Idon’s female staff who always serves us on all our meals at the restaurant. I hope it was money and not my hubby’s celfon number (LOL).

We left the hotel after much bye byes with their staff. I had a glimpse at the clock at the dashboard of the van, it was 11:00AM that time and we were in front Pagudpud Municipal Hall already. A quarter past mid afternoon and we were already at Laoag City proper. The ride was a lot quicker compare to last time. No more “photo ops” and sight seeing maybe. Since we just had a heavy breakfast at Apo Idon and kids were not ready for lunch, we decided to try the Laoag Empanada. One traffic aide told us that we can found that Empanada at the food court which was at the back of PNB Building. Off we go and after few minutes, we were eating this special empanada. It is very different from the empanada that I knew. It has an orange color and a crispy shell or cover. Inside it was the same longanisa ingredients we used to ate for breakfast at Apo Idon. Also were eggs and finely cut potatoes. The taste was good but too much cooking oil for me.

First stop after the special empanada encounter was at Museo Ilocos. This turn out to be very helpful. From their office they gave us a leaflet, sort of a tour guide for Ilocos Norte. In that office also we saw pictures of the entire town in Ilocos Norte with its important and significant places to discover. How ironic, it was a semestral break when geography class started with my kids. A very minimal fee to enter the museum is needed. Common to any museum, we found history, arts, culture, and famous people of Ilocos Norte.

After taking pictures at the Capitol Building, The Ttown Plaza and a trip to the Sinking Bell Tower at Laoag, we were heading east to the town of Sarat, the home town of the late strongman Ferdinand Marcos. Sarat is approximately eight kilometers from Laoag City. After a few minutes drive we entered the quiet town of Sarat. Mostly were residential lined up with old houses. First stop at Sarat was the ancestral house of Marcos. It is an old brick house with wooden finished at the second floor and fronting the main road of Sarat Town. A caretaker (senior in age, I forgot his name) met us at the front door. He told us that in this house where Marcos grew up as a young boy. He pointed a public school few meters from us where Marcos started his early school and the same school where Doña Josefa was a teacher.

First floor is where they kept most of F. Marcos scholastic achievements and her mother honors recieved. Wooden second floor is where the family rooms. Just at the end of the wooden stairs displayed were the family trees of Doña Josefa’s parents. The caretaker lead us to the young Marcos room where you can see the same old bed he used. Beside the room was her Mother’s room. A big sala is at the second floor where paintings and other memorabilia of Marcoses. There was a family painting of the three siblings with their parents. The caretaker painstakingly pointed out who was in the picture one by one. I thought the caretaker was a relative but he told us that he was one of his barrio mates. The old man was very accommodating; you can really feel that he was happy to see us there, who have traveled hundreds of kilometers just to see the humble beginning of Marcos. There was an old piano sitting at the floor since it has no more stand, but still functional. My second daughter immediately sits down on the floor and started to key in portion of her favorite piano piece.

My Mom being true blue Marcos fanatics (Fanatics, to tone down being tag as Loyalist) was ecstatic. On this house alone she might have used up 40MB of her pictures in my memory card. She was enjoying every minute in the house. She used her address at Leyte, not the one at Parañaque, in writing down her name at the guest book. I think she even put her celphone number. All of us wrote our name at the guest book except for my hubby. He even got only one picture taken at the house, which is when my Mom asks the caretaker to take a group picture of us.

I knew that my husband during his college days, on the first half of Eighties were “teargased” many times attending political demonstration against the administration of Marcos. A diehard “Corysta” during the snap election of 1986. He was even quick in depending Kris Aquino during the “Joey Marquez” brouhaha (LOL). But in all fairness to my hubby he was the one who organized this tour. Though it may be different from his view, he respects anyone’s opinion, even my Mom’s political color.

Almost a kilometer from the Marcos house, you’ll found this old Santa Monica Church. This was the same church where Aireen Marcos and Greggy Araneta had their wedding ceremony. My Mom was very proud telling my kids that the wedding was so beautiful and it was like the marriage celebration of Prince Charles and Lady Diana of England. Hubby was quick in adding that it was so lavish, that even ice creams have to be flown from Manila to Laoag by Philippine Air Force. He told the kids that after a month from the extravagant wedding, a big earthquake hit Sarat and strokes the church and tore its altar. My Mom was quiet; maybe she can’t and would not believe my hubby’s story.

After some souvenir pictures were taken, we went back to Laoag and headed to Fort Ilocandia and Malacañang of the North which were all in Paoay. Before reaching Fort Ilocandia, there was a direction going to the La Paz Sand Dunes, but kids were not interested, much more my Mom who wants to go to Batac and see the remains of her idol. Fort Ilocandia was the only five star hotels at the region. It has a manicured loan, Olympic size pool. Furniture at the main lobby was fantastic. Malacañang of the North was fronting the Paoay Lake, Be that it may, these were some of the legacy of Marcos.

It was funny since two people were looking at the same thing and seeing differently. My Mom was telling my kids that these beautiful places were all constructed during the Marcos Administration. Hubby was telling kids about the lavish lifestyles of the Marcoses and the obvious disregards for public funds. With my Mom’s voice not to be outdrawn from the back of the van, she said that the excellent cemented road we were driving at was all of Marcos projects.

My son pointed a big Partas Bus, coming on opposite lane, with Manila as its destination and said “Grandma, if you keep on telling Dad about Marcos achievements, you could end up riding in one of those Partas Bus to Manila today” laughter filled the van.

Then we went back to Laoag again and headed to Batac, never knowing that from Fort Ilocandia we could have gone straight to Batac with out coming back to Laoag again. Once in Batac, hubby was asking for Marcos Mausoleum direction when he crossed a red stop sign. He was stopped by a traffic officer. Since we were a tourist from Manila, thanks to the officer, he just gave us the direction to the mausoleum and told my hubby to be alert and not to bit traffic signal.

When we reached the mausoleum, which was just outside the Marcos house at Batac (This was the ancestral house of the Marcoses’, what was in Sarat was the ancestral house of the Edralin’s) there were other people lined up to see the late President remains. At the door of the mausoleum we saw flower offerings; the only name that rings a bell to me was that of Imee Marcos and her children with loving thought to his father. It seems I lost my sense of time, after almost 7 days of carefree travel, I forgot that the following day was All Saints Day. Maybe that was one of the reasons why were flower offerings were at the front door of the mausoleum.

A caretaker (retired military sergeant that was he told us) preceded us inside the mausoleum. He was like a marine drill sergeant instructing us not to take pictures, not to go beyond cordoned area and not to stay long, with out even a trace of smile on his face. Inside the mausoleum was a glass coffin covering the late President body. The body was neatly laid on top of a concrete adobe blocks that forms like a tomb. Below the base of the concrete was surrounded with flowers carefully tucked on cobbled stone. It was dim lighted with well appointed lighting fixtures. Walls were covered with thick purpled colored curtains. It was very cold inside and with the Gregorian Chant music on the background, adding an aerie atmosphere inside. My Mom out of her excitement steps inside the cordoned area, she wanted to get a close up look or even touch the glass coffin, but was politely stopped by “Sergeant Major Sir”. The darkness of the room can’t hide my hubby’s smile. My two daughters were whispering to my son all I can hear was “it’s a wax, not its not, no it was”. I saw my Mom just before we went out did a sign of the cross and say a little prayer taking a cue with that; I, my hubby and the kids did the same.

A few minutes more and were out of the mausoleum. We entered the next room with some of personal things were on display. Pictures of him and Imelda were on display. Images when he was a young decorated soldier. I saw my daughters busy reading some of Marcos personal letters when he was exiled at Hawaii. Even his car plate numbers when he was a congressman up to when he was the President of the Republic. Even the old campus news paper of UP, with the news of the young Ferdinand Marcos toping the bar exam. Many other things were in the room but the one I can’t forget is the thought that even in death, how lavish is our late President.

To be continue……