Ulong Tubig

© Joselito Briones

I had this dream when Ate Julie died.  She was with Joie, Jaja and Janelle.  They were all singing and dancing, with arms linked together,  Like in a chorus line.  While they were dancing, led by Ate Julie, the ground got spectacularly inundated with “Ulong Tubig” water.  Everyone rose above water level, still dancing, still having fun.  Then Ate Julie started fading into the background, smiling. 

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So dance, come on let’s dance

© Joselito Briones

Up until third grade my inay’s favorite form of torturing me was to make me perform a dance number whenever we have  guests at home. It wasn’t such a big deal, until it was.

Late 70’s, tail end of the disco era. We had this “stereo”, a behemoth of a casing for not much power . It had a turntable, a radio tuner, and not much else.  Kuya Toto, electronics wiz that he is, added  stuff to it until we had a decent 4-way stereo system. We had three vinyl lp’s, all by the beatles. 

One day my father came home with new album. Tina Charles.  The album came with its own instructions on how to do the dance steps.  I tried to do them but my vocabulary just wasn’t good enough at that point.  All I understood  was that I was supposed to step with one foot forward while pointing at it.  I did exactly that. Over and over.  And over.

What I didn’t realize was that my parents were planning a party. The day came and there was no turning back.  There was a good turn out.  I absolutely refused to do the one-step dance number but I was outnumbered.  Everyone was egging me on. The more I refused, the more I saw how disappointed my parents were. 

Finally, I relented.  I found out quickly how unentertaining it was to watch a child point at his toes. As one by one the guests dispersed and awkwardly, I secretly celebrated my freedom.

https://youtu.be/TMnns_iIB2M

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Dried flowers

© Charles George 

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Spa day

© Joselito Briones

When every wash day is a spa day, courtesy of Charles.

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Riding on a feeling

© Joselito Briones

In the summer of 1974, the preschool kids in my neighborhood learned riding a bicycle together.  There were 5 or 6 of us.  My brother Uwel took it upon himself to teach us.  The school, the designated training spot about ten houses from our house, adjacent to open rice fields, was still closed for the summer season.

I was late to learn about what was going on. Everybody was  already in the school grounds when I got there.  Jojo and Toto had their turns. Then everybody else.  I was jealous.  By the time my turn came, it was getting dark. We did one quick round of me riding poorly then we went home. 

We never got to finish the training.

  

A few days on, I discovered that as long as I could keep my self vertical on the bike with my feet on standby by my sides, still barely on the ground’s sloping  driveway I can just let go and let the bike roll by itself.  Doing it several times, i saw t could just rest my feet on the pedal, then the pedal was just a matter of going through the motions.

The next day, full of confidence, I proudly mounted the bike in the middle of the street. Perfect balance.

Only it won’t go. Tried and tried but, no.

Out of nowhere, Uwel yelled, “RELEASE THE BREAK!“ 

I did, and lo and behold. 

(Soundtrack: Hallelujah!)

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Mystery flowers

© Charles George

We couldn’t figure out what these are.  From our local bodega/deli. Any idea?

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