Standing Around Downtown Manila

I invited D. out for a date, but my own wife stood me up on the last minute. She had the best reason in the world (our daughter). So I headed out alone and promised I'll be back within three hours. The Spanish language school, Instituto Cerevantes, sponsored a music event in Escolta.

This gig is an attempt to spark a cultural renaissance cradled in Downtown Manila. To me, it’s never been dead or out of fashion. Perhaps our Spanish sponsors know our city and history better than us, and it did look like people are having fun. I’m happy for them. It was a very small space in art gallery within a historic building. It’s a terrific crowd - Spanish men and women drinking wine in plastic cups, and a bar that sold craft beer and reasonably priced local beer.

I came for the music, and I was on time for the up-and-coming, local indie artist’s set that I sought for.. She plays electronic music while singing along. I wanted to experience her music. "I like to make eye contact with the audience." I heard her say in a YouTube interview. Her performances require an amazing amount of multitasking along singing, flipping through switches, waving through radio buttons, devices, microphones. She is convincing anyone who still thinks that electronic music is a soul-less enterprise, to reconsider. Through changing tones and a shadowy pair of eyes, it is as if she tries to peer through your soul. There's an immature thing here and there in her lyrics, or the hat she's wearing. But when you’re as young as her, what better time do you have to nurture your raw feelings? She is only coming out of her sheltered enclave. I was persuaded to listen to how this music blooms when performed live.

And I was disappointed with the set because she really was just there to spin. Soul-less as shit, just as how i felt standing on the pavements of Escolta with a drink in hand. I wanted to be home listening to Spotify instead of being surrounded by a good crowd. Maybe I’ve been outside the circle too long (if ever I’ve been in). Maybe it’s because D. wasn’t with me, and I failed to rekindle that penchant for being alone.

I saw the artist on her way out. She was flanked by two young, tall gentlemen who surrounded her like groupies. I overheard one of them saying, “You want to go Makati? But both of us are broke.”

I spotted a pair of young women. Both of them were fancifully, fashionably dressed, the sides of their hair shaved down to a half-inch. Under an Escolta lamp post, they kiss on the street. I didn’t mean to intrude, and I was in a far-enough, respectful distance. I realized they wouldn’t have given a damn if anyone was watching. Let them all see true beauty, they seemed to say. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in this night, impressing upon me how Escolta's always been alive and it's no secret.