Two Onion-Slicing Ninjas

Marriage story

It was only later that I found out Noah Baumbach also directed Kicking and Screaming, a life-long favorite about the post-college dilemma. It's been about 23 or 24 years since I first saw it. It's still in my head. Noah Baumbach's themes has of course evolved, to the ever-evolving concepts of family, marriage, fatherhood and motherhood. The tears though, seem like a constant. A while back, I saw While We're Young and that one was really funny. I am thankful for Noah Baumbach because these movies are conducive for life-affirmation. The time you spend with children is the ultimate catch-all, an infallible justification of why you live and why you love.

There were so much tears in this movie. And I watched it with D., even more thankful that our own marriage didn't need to have any.

The Two Popes

Hannibal is Pope Benedict and the High Sparrow is Pope Francis.

It is our fortune to have lived at the same time as Pope Francis. We are certain that his papacy will be scrutinized in the future. It might take another 700 years for a pope to abdicate. But perhaps, from here on out there will be more who are as humble, as left-leaning, and as human as many of us who like pizza, football and fanta.

D. and I cried almost half the time while watching this movie. We were crying about how happy we are to have witnessed positive change.

We will certainly cry more, but it won't always be tears of sorrow.

A Pair of Commendations

Hi, J.,

Thank you very much for this year. 30 minutes of every lesson is very short time to talk with you about a lot of things. So, let me say my deepest appreciation to you and your family in this message.
I am really grateful to you for always teaching me English and making a wonderful experience in the Philippines in this summer.

Thanks to you, I can improve my English skills, learn discussion skills in English and the ability to thing about a lot of things and learn about the Philippines society, culture and so on. And, I had the valuable and wonderful experience in the Philippines, which became a best memory. I really appreciate your kindness.

In near future, I would like to go to the Philippines to meet you, your family and your niece.
And also, I hope that you and your family will come to Japan in the future! 😊



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J., 

Your lesson had been wonderful and I was fully satisfied every Thursday sessions.  I learned a lot from your teaching style and positive radiation through the screen.  I’m so sorry to be rude for this abrupt ending.  I do hope you’ll forgive me and someday I will be blessed to chat with you in person😊.  Thank you so much, and wishing you prosperous feature ahead.  I will continue to send LINE text to you sometimes!  

Thank you gazillion!

December in Five Cups of Coffee

Cortado

At 9am the drive going to V.'s Quezon City school is against the bottleneck of people packing themselves up to the business centers. The drive only takes us about half an hour. We drop off V. off, and spend two hours at cafes, the supermarket or run other errands. Today, we have a working breakfast at small coffee shop called Goffa. It's quiet, the dark furnishings are simple but sensible. The menu looks like it won't lie to you. A lot of the pastries are from another excellent local bakery, Purple Oven. The cortado is a strong winner. It's coffee that is capable of warming and ironing those wrinkles in your weary spirit, even more effectively with honey ham and gruyere on a croissant while hitting the keys on an old laptop, stealing glances to my beautiful wife across the table. 

Double Espresso

I'm waiting on I. doing his Kumon and I have 45 minutes for coffee while reading a chapter or two. Normally, I bring a tumbler of iced coffee from home and wait outside the Kumon center, but sometimes there's not even time to make coffee. Then I have the excuse to hit the nearest (half) decent coffeeshop I can venture to, which is a Starbucks. They're too busy at this time of the year. Everybody's collecting stickers, and it gets too crowded. I'm glad I didn't shy away from another small local shop beside the Benilde hotel. The double espresso had a nice, thin, brown top layer made by baristas who weren't trained to pretend to you. I thanked the barista sincerely as I handed over my finished cup, short of telling her that their place is infinitely better than Starbs.

Flat White 

I can't hate coffee chains like Toby's Estate because the skill level and expertise at which they make coffee seems textbook. Their flat white's coffee art is always perfect, the milk is velvety smooth even while you feel the unmistakably strong punch, the light acidity of the beans. Even if the cups are huge you always want more. They're even mindful of sustainability. The no-nonsense staff appear well-paid. Perhaps being I'm biased, as I always tie up the memory of going to Legaspi park, running around the playground with D.and the children. It couldn't be more perfect.

Cafe Latte

I always enjoy hanging out at a Coffee Bean with V. or with I. because the place does has a conducive appeal even if everything in there seems cut and paste. No character, just a template. Their cafe latte feels all milk and plain bubbles and I almost regret availing my free upgrade from ARC. If I put sugar, it'd be like sweet milk. I enjoy because  the people you converse with, the people you choose to spend time with, with caffeine, naturally lifts your spirits.

Short Brewed Coffee

Recently, the only beverage I order in a Starbucks isn't even on the menu. It's also the cheapest one ,(partially the reason why I love it) but it's probably the most decent. No pumped syrups or pumpkin spice, peppermint, toffee nut or whatnot. A short brewed coffee, the barista warned, won't get you a sticker. The tall one does, though. Even if the short one is actually good enough for sharing. Because we saved money by not ordering two venti frappucinos, we go to the Thai massage place across the street and get a 30-minute foot and back massage. It sure feels better than another empty diary.

Quickly in the Queen City

The silence inside you is comforting when you hear everyone speaking in a different dialect. It cements the fact that you understand very little about everything. Even if I was just a mere 1.5-hour flight away, I was an outsider.

In a little over 24 hours, I accomplished everything I was set out to do.

• run out of town
• work remotely
• quench my craving with craft beer from a microbrewery (just one and not too many)
• perk up with a good flat white and/or pour over in a decent cafe
• books (I finished a short one) and music all along 
• come running back home

I was telling myself that age is catching up on me. I've forgotten to mention how it also equips you with a decisiveness, with brevity. A familiarity with knowing what you want. And at this point, I know it's going home to family.

You're also quick to decide that you've become a more fragile little piece of flesh. Walking back to my budget hotel, I sprained my ankle on a deep pothole. Shocks. It was pretty bad and I was ready to give up on the race. After some stretches, some unscientific assessments (otherwise known as listening to your body), you summon all your experiences about being sprained, or sleepless and pained. You pump enough adrenaline and gas to drag on for one more morning and worry about it later on. That throw-it-all-away ability to say fuck it. I dragged on for 16 kilometers at a 6:53 average pace and it was as if there wasn't an exhausted bone in my body. I breathe deeply and it was nothing but a good run.

Waiting at the boarding gates and sitting on the plane is a time for reading and music. Passengers no longer seem fascinated that we're all together floating on this tube at 20,000 feet with coffee and snacks. Sayaka Murata's Convenience Store Woman was perfect because it was eerily easy to relate to. A mindful joy of loving what you do. We arrived after sunset. Manila's lights honestly looked pretty and all of it is winking at you.

Maybe we'll do it again next time, with a little more sleep and without breaking any ankles.

Benefits of Home-Based Folks

My three-year-old V. trudges silently to my desk as if to check whether I'm in a class/video conference. She stays quiet, looks at me and flashes a bright smile, the kind that crunches with her shoulders. Our eyes meet and I beamed her a "Yes, I'm in class." She steps away from my field of vision. She comes back and puts one of her candies by my desk.

今日は何をしましたか？

What did you do today? I ask that question to the students everyday!

While I am passionate and committed to work,  I'd like to think that we've structured our lives solidly around family and children. Whatever flexibility our sources of income allow us, we build and spend around maximizing time with family. In other words, we're not rich. But we get enough of each other. The food at home is lovingly made, we hear and say things, and even with all my inherent paranoia, or the devils that hide in me, I consider our home to be a utopia, a living dream. Once in a while, we dream some more. Which means we all have enough time to squander on streaming and social media.

So forgive me for being off-track on our usual routine, D., as I fly out to another city to run a race. I'm being selfish. The opportunity was handed to me through frequent flyer miles that are about to expire. I had to jump on the chance to scratch my travel itch.

I asked myself about my day and I notice, every day, how age catches up on us. We, tend to run slower, get sleepier, get more idle. So we try to figure out how to run differently. Away from the devils of procrastination. Away from the devils of being dreamless. We're bound to find a good story.