Trip to Quiapo

No, not the Ricky Lee book.

After paying Lola Mommy and Lolo Daddy a visit and spending some quality time with them in Loyola Memorial Park early morn of All Soul's Day, Mama took up her cousin Tita Jeng and I to a romp aroud Quiapo. Why on such a day? don't ask me. Maybe Mama just wanted to take advantage of Ttia Jeng's skill for discovering "buried treasure", i.e. the DVD shops hidden deep in the bowels of this ecclectic center of local religion and commerce.

From Loyola, we took a jeep ride to Katipunan, then the fairly-new, sleek n' spacy Metro Railway Transit to Recto, and from there proceded on foot with Tita Jeng leading the way. We went about crossing junctions, dodging low-hanging plastic canopies, and keeping our gazes to ourselves lest some quickhand help himself to our pockets. I had to resist the urge of visually devouring every detail of the shops and stands we passed, but I did manage to sneak a glance for every other step -- bright orange kwek-kwek freshly fried and huddled together in a pink plastic nest, a display of printed diplomas under plastic covers ( intellectual dress-up, academic one-night stands, a name and a title on sale), a father teaching his son to fix a bike's chain in a shop, rearing bicycles in a neat row hanging from the ceiling.

Wending our way between a corner of a residential area that closely mirrored the Subdivision I lived in and the placid beige-and-white pot belly of Quiapo Church, we found our first DVD stop, a long mint-green corridor of around fourteen nooks, each with a pull-down gate to close up. I must say, I was pretty impressed with the way the whole arrangement was given careful thought. Bright pastel colors on the walls were easy and pleasing to the eye, and refreshed the travel-weary customer, so he or she can devote more time to perusing the shops' million titles. The shop-keepers organized the DVD titles and stacked them in neat piles by genre for easy perusal and referrence. plus, should any of Edu Mazano's hounds sniff the joint out and an ill-timed raid come around, the pull-down gates make for a quick hide-away, keeping the goods secure and giving the proprietors a chance for a quick, clean getaway. Now that's good strategy.

Oh, did I mention the DVDs here around P15 less than the selling suki price in Greenhills, plus the dealers are even willing to drop the prices way lower for you should you decide to buy in bulk? ;)

While Mama gave Tita Jeng a brief tutorial on discerning the good DVD (and basically finding her own titles), I went around flitting from one shop to another searching for hard-to-find titles. By the time I got back to the two-grown-ups, I already had Satoshi Kon's Tokyo Godfathers (very good for Christmas viewing) & Millenium Actress, and Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction.I had previously discovered (and drooled over) three Asterix full-length animation features on DVD ( Asterix the Gaul, Asterix and Cleopatra, and Asterix in Rome). To my dismay, all three DVDs were purely dubbed in Swedish, and had no English audio or subtitling whatsoever. Agh! whatta loss!

Mama on the other hand found me Akira Kurosawa's Sanjuro,(a follow-up from his Yojimbo, with both movies being the precursor to Clint Eastwood's cowboy films), and a right-good healthy copy of Spike Jonze's and Charlie Kaufman's Adaptation.

We took a breather and breathed a prayer in Quiapo Church, and this time, my eyes devoured everything in sight. Herb and miracle oil vendors peppered the church's sides, Prayer Women (who pray for you and your intentions for a "donation" in cold, hard cash) sat on kiddie plastic chairs, planted to their spots like cabbage patches, lazily fanning themselves with their El Shaddai hankies and waiting for a customer in need of a beaded decade or two. I wanted to avail of this unique service they offered, even if just for the experience, but Mama had other ideas for our money. So we took a breather and breathed a prayer, and Mama told me to make a wish. It had been my first time to step into Quiapo Church, and wishes made inside a church visited for the first time were thought to come true. So wish I did.

(Hours later, we recieved word that the long-unsold payloader standing in our lot's empty space was finally sold, after five months of seeking and coaxing and letting go of buuyers and half-baked deals. Mama at last could breathe easy. )

Tita Jeng took us to say hello to the Nazareno, and this gave me another chance to tip in my wish. I looked deep into the coffee-colored wood of the image and thought perhaps God was chuckling to himself and saying, "Alright, you funny little skeptic, pagbibigyan na nga kita.".

I found the row of diviners on the other side of the church, setting camp (or in this case, umbrella-and-table) under a crucified hand. A stone's throw away opposite the palm-and-tarot readers were the candle vendors, heaps of different-colored candles all compacted together, their wares looking like a rainbow bee-hive of sorts. (for Wicca practicioners, this may prove to be a good place to buy the colored candles according to your needs.) As soon as Mama came back from ATM business, she went right to the Quiapo Church courtyard and bought three-days' worth of dinner: tomatoes, cucumbers, kangkong, oranges and other produce, at P10 a small, healthy pile.

We continued hunting for the last two DVD nooks Tita Jeng knew of before calling it a day. On this account, I found the HBO two-DVD special of the play Angels In America, Charlie Chaplin's City Lights, and the Palimpsest of Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose, starring Sean Connery as the Inductive Brother William. Definately a good find.

Before we hied off for home, Tita Jeng took us under the Quiapo bridge, where all the capiz and seashell lamps and decor were sold. I have never before seen so many tiny shells in cascades hung on lamps. Perhaps if the streets were quiet enough, one would be able to hear the chimes of the shells.

Mama bought three sets of brightly colored stocking butterflies of all sizes to decorate the parish with. As the parish council flocked to her every year to ask (plead, and beg) that she be in charge of decorating the church for Christmas, she assumed that it would be best to get ready for it.

We went home on a one-stop G-Liner ride full of good booty and good news, and retired to a meal of heated, good home-cooked Sinigang sa Miso and red rice.