Outing

I don't know how for how long these relaxing weekends will last, but I'm thankful for yesterday, when I joined the outing of my youth group in church. We went to a nearby pool, a couple of blocks away from our church building in Timog Avenue. For most of the morning, we played Guesstures, a modified charades game where one has to act out four words for a given time period.

guesstures

guesstures

A race against time, this game should make one appreciate the value of the spoken word. In ordinary circumstances, I could've easily said "bellydancing" and everybody would get me, but that morning, I had to act it out. And, no, I'm not posting any incriminating video of myself. I did shoot an amateurish video of other people, but I haven't asked permission if they'd like to publicly display their award-winning performances in this blog.

Our team won, thanks to Koji's interpretation of "mermaid," among other words, which have us a solid 16 points.

final tally

Beside the pool, we saw this graffiti. I didn't pay any attention to it then, but as I look at the photo now, I realize it's a Caucasian kid suffering from some disease, possibly filariasis. Consider, for instance, the asymmetry in the arms and buttocks.

trajectory

There were random paintings of butterflies and colorful things and this creepy woman with dragonfly wings. She reminds me of the ABS-CBN morning cartoon shows I used to watch before going to school.

dragonfly?

colors

Praise God for this blessed time!

Comments

  1. AnonymousSun Jul 03, 07:13:00 PM GMT+8

    the fairy reminds me of hiraya manawari!! abs-cbn shows! :)
    lance, where in timog is your church? the street is near my house! maybe we can meet up with leeann one time. she also lives nearby!

    -aa

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Afternoons at home

Image
Rare are the afternoons when I have idle time for myself. But yesterday was something else. There arrived an unexpected blessing—a pocket of sweet time when I had nothing to do.   As soon I parked the car, I greeted my mother in her room, interrupting her Netflix viewing. I headed out to the living room. The sun was glorious but not scathing. Photographers call the late tropical afternoons the golden hour. I went back to my desk to grab the camera, whose existence I only recall when I travel.  I jolted Paul from his nap. "Dali na!" I said. He yawned, stretched, and trailed me. After three years, we've figured out his body language. He was waiting for a treat, a belly rub, or some play time that involves an old tennis ball—or all of the above. "Hulat lang, Paul, ha?" I speak to him like I would to a three-year old. Nanay's small garden is a place of tranquility. You'd hear birds chirping. You'd see nests on top of the tree. They must feel saf...
Keep Reading

Life happened

Image
I know. I don’t post here as often as I should. When I do, I hardly write anything at all. I post fillers: random photos of my daily grind; quotations from books and articles I like to commit to memory; summaries of my meditations; epiphanies and random links to miscellaneous items I hope to return to but don’t. When I scroll through my blog history, I’m surprised that I’d posted about a film I would have otherwise forgotten if I hadn’t written about it in the recent past. In the early days of this blog I wrote many entries each month. There were years when I’d post something daily. It was fun. Updating blogger.com was enmeshed in my routine as toothbrushing; my day wouldn’t be complete without it. And then I gradually skipped it. The short of it is: life happened. And the internet became a dangerous place. I became more mature and private, relishing the absence of web footprint, while the world—including my circle of family, friends, and acquaintances—was only discovering the joys ...
Keep Reading

Once upon an island

Image
May 30, my parents’ wedding anniversary, a date on the calendar we still celebrate, seven years after Tatay has passed on. In my mind—in my family’s mind—Tatay’s memory is alive. We speak about him, in random circumstances. Over dinner, for example. And my faith tells me: he is alive, in the fellowship of saints in heaven, laughing and singing and feasting and supremely enjoying the presence of God. I imagine him looking down, saying, “Dali na kamo diri. Kadugay sa inyo.” But the last days of May found us in a plane, from General Santos, with a brief stopover to Manila that would take us to Busuanga. If you’d spotted us at NAIA, you would have noticed Manong and me, holding on to our mother in laughter, provoking her with random comments that got her riled up; or, more correctly, she holding on to us, complaining about her eyeglasses that still give her trouble with depth perception. She is adorable. She is getting older. We make most of our time to take her aro...
Keep Reading