Epic
This was how the glorious day of 16 January started: I woke up with a very uncooperative stomach.
I woke up
way ahead of my alarm to sit on the faux porcelain throne and take care of my junk. I know this is kind of TMI*, but really, this was how my day started.
I went back to bed and tried to catch a few hours of snooze. I was almost successful. By the time I really got into sleeping, I only had an hour left. How fantastic. (Lately I’m having the hardest time sleeping. It’s very frustrating.) Reluctantly turning off the alarm and zombie-walking to the kitchen, I prepared for the day.
This day we planned to see Pope Francis. To be honest, the first time I learned that the Pontifex will be visiting the country, I felt rather
ordinary. Yes, I was excited; it was very thoughtful of the Pope to choose the Philippines as one of his pilgrim countries. Being part of our parish’s Media Ministry, my co-members and I were assigned to produce short informative videos about the Pope for the perusal of our parishioners. It was a task that was made complicated by our conflicting schedules, but thank goodness, we were able to produce and release two AVPs. I was assigned in the actual and post-production. (Note: there were only three of us working; it demanded multi-tasking.) Editing the videos, working on them, heightened my excitement for the Papal Visit. It made me realize how important the Pope is not just to us Catholics, but also to other people, regardless of race or belief.
But what really
amplified my anticipation to its seams was the actual arrival of the Pope. I opted to watch the coverage of CNN because I wanted to know what non-Filipinos thought of us and our faith. (The CNN correspondent’s pronunciation of “Tacloban” made me smile.) Upon seeing the Pope alighting his chartered Sri Lankan plane, I felt this surge of
desire and
need to see him in person and witness his Pontifical glory. And so the epic day of 16 January happened.
I was with Mark Inocencio (my co-Media Ministry member) and his best friend, Lucky Chinatown (I don’t know his last name). We first went to the Malacañan Palace. We weren’t able to see the Pope’s motorcade to the palace, so we opted to join others who were hoping to see the Holy Father’s exit. We walked a few miles, and it would’ve been tiring had it not been very fun. All those Catholics in their Papal Visit commemorative shirts, waving little flags saying “Welcome, Pope Francis!”, added excitement, emotion and meaning to our own little pilgrimage. We squeezed ourselves in between spectators to get a good spot. The people in my life would know that putting me in the middle of a crowd is a recipe for disaster. I have something I call “semi-claustrophobia.” (I panic over tight spaces, and once I was even afraid of riding elevators.) I fitted myself in the available space, and tried to control the images in my head that were threatening to make me cry and scurry away like a rat. I don’t like clichés, but you know what? All the short breaths, the humid feeling, the pain from walking and standing, and the jitters, they were all
worth it.
Seeing the Pope in person was like an out-of-body experience. I was waving and chanting “Viva! Viva!” while balancing Mark’s Canon. I most definitely looked like a fan fawning over a famous rock star. I was thinking of two things during the encounter: 1) “Oh my goodness, the Pope!” and 2) “No stampede, please. No.” The Pope mobile passed in front of us for, like, two seconds, but the effect of it would last a lifetime. I almost cried; Mark was left speechless; Lucky had goosebumps. I can’t fully describe how it felt like; “amazing” doesn’t even cover it.
After the motorcade, we continued our trudging to Manila Cathedral. Again, we didn’t make it on time for the mass, and we were starving so we opted to roam around and look for food. There were tons of people and tons of souvenir items being peddled. It was amazing. I’m not particularly fond of crowds and muggles in general, but seeing individuals from all walks of life come together to strengthen their faith gave me a new perspective. Everyone was united through God, Jesus, and the Vicar of Christ Pope Francis. He truly is
Pontifex Maximus: the nation and the people’s
bridge builder.
Faith in humanity restored.
PS: I have an interesting story to tell – I almost died. I had the worst cramps in my life and couldn’t even take a step. I fell down on the ground, on the highway, like my legs suddenly turned into jelly but really excruciating. Mark and Lucky helped me get up and recover my senses. It was a first time experience and I don’t want it to happen again. I was so nervous about it I almost threw up. My companions laughed at me while I recovered. Through the pain I made a self-deprecating joke: I was dancing “Wiggle, Wiggle.” Humor is a quack doctor.
*TMI - too much information.
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Epic
This was how the glorious day of 16 January started: I woke up with a very uncooperative stomach.
I woke up
way ahead of my alarm to sit on the faux porcelain throne and take care of my junk. I know this is kind of TMI*, but really, this was how my day started.
I went back to bed and tried to catch a few hours of snooze. I was almost successful. By the time I really got into sleeping, I only had an hour left. How fantastic. (Lately I’m having the hardest time sleeping. It’s very frustrating.) Reluctantly turning off the alarm and zombie-walking to the kitchen, I prepared for the day.
This day we planned to see Pope Francis. To be honest, the first time I learned that the Pontifex will be visiting the country, I felt rather
ordinary. Yes, I was excited; it was very thoughtful of the Pope to choose the Philippines as one of his pilgrim countries. Being part of our parish’s Media Ministry, my co-members and I were assigned to produce short informative videos about the Pope for the perusal of our parishioners. It was a task that was made complicated by our conflicting schedules, but thank goodness, we were able to produce and release two AVPs. I was assigned in the actual and post-production. (Note: there were only three of us working; it demanded multi-tasking.) Editing the videos, working on them, heightened my excitement for the Papal Visit. It made me realize how important the Pope is not just to us Catholics, but also to other people, regardless of race or belief.
But what really
amplified my anticipation to its seams was the actual arrival of the Pope. I opted to watch the coverage of CNN because I wanted to know what non-Filipinos thought of us and our faith. (The CNN correspondent’s pronunciation of “Tacloban” made me smile.) Upon seeing the Pope alighting his chartered Sri Lankan plane, I felt this surge of
desire and
need to see him in person and witness his Pontifical glory. And so the epic day of 16 January happened.
I was with Mark Inocencio (my co-Media Ministry member) and his best friend, Lucky Chinatown (I don’t know his last name). We first went to the Malacañan Palace. We weren’t able to see the Pope’s motorcade to the palace, so we opted to join others who were hoping to see the Holy Father’s exit. We walked a few miles, and it would’ve been tiring had it not been very fun. All those Catholics in their Papal Visit commemorative shirts, waving little flags saying “Welcome, Pope Francis!”, added excitement, emotion and meaning to our own little pilgrimage. We squeezed ourselves in between spectators to get a good spot. The people in my life would know that putting me in the middle of a crowd is a recipe for disaster. I have something I call “semi-claustrophobia.” (I panic over tight spaces, and once I was even afraid of riding elevators.) I fitted myself in the available space, and tried to control the images in my head that were threatening to make me cry and scurry away like a rat. I don’t like clichés, but you know what? All the short breaths, the humid feeling, the pain from walking and standing, and the jitters, they were all
worth it.
Seeing the Pope in person was like an out-of-body experience. I was waving and chanting “Viva! Viva!” while balancing Mark’s Canon. I most definitely looked like a fan fawning over a famous rock star. I was thinking of two things during the encounter: 1) “Oh my goodness, the Pope!” and 2) “No stampede, please. No.” The Pope mobile passed in front of us for, like, two seconds, but the effect of it would last a lifetime. I almost cried; Mark was left speechless; Lucky had goosebumps. I can’t fully describe how it felt like; “amazing” doesn’t even cover it.
After the motorcade, we continued our trudging to Manila Cathedral. Again, we didn’t make it on time for the mass, and we were starving so we opted to roam around and look for food. There were tons of people and tons of souvenir items being peddled. It was amazing. I’m not particularly fond of crowds and muggles in general, but seeing individuals from all walks of life come together to strengthen their faith gave me a new perspective. Everyone was united through God, Jesus, and the Vicar of Christ Pope Francis. He truly is
Pontifex Maximus: the nation and the people’s
bridge builder.
Faith in humanity restored.
PS: I have an interesting story to tell – I almost died. I had the worst cramps in my life and couldn’t even take a step. I fell down on the ground, on the highway, like my legs suddenly turned into jelly but really excruciating. Mark and Lucky helped me get up and recover my senses. It was a first time experience and I don’t want it to happen again. I was so nervous about it I almost threw up. My companions laughed at me while I recovered. Through the pain I made a self-deprecating joke: I was dancing “Wiggle, Wiggle.” Humor is a quack doctor.
*TMI - too much information.
← older / top / newer →
a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Profile
Already several months had passed, and I am missing
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry more and more each fleeting day. There are just some things in life that we can never forget – especially that something that had given us knowledge, skills, strong relationships and a second home. I am glad that everything in the magical world is now at peace, since Voldemort (yes, I can now say his name; no need to be afraid) had died. I had secretly admired Tom Marvolo Riddle (Voldemort’s birth name) though, because of his intelligence, passion and love for magic. Wasn’t he very clever to think of and conjure his seven
Horcruxes to preserve his life, or form a clan of
Death Eaters who were very loyal to him and would give up their lives just for him to succeed? Not everybody can acquire that much loyalty from people these days. I do not, however, admire him for the way he had carried out all of his plans. He had a good agenda, his means just weren’t morally right. But he still is one of the darkest wizards of all time… and let’s leave it that way.
Oh, for all those who are baffled of what I’m saying here and who the heck I am, my name is
Christine Faye Ordas, and I am an alumnus of Hogwarts. I came from the bronze-and-blue-clad house of the smart ass witch Rowena Ravenclaw and her dictum
“Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.” And yes, I know the wonderful Luna Lovegood (she’s such a darling) and Harry Potter’s first crush Cho Chang. I had just left Hogwarts last May. Right now I am trying to pursue a career in magical researches, literature and writing. It’s my dream to inscribe intellectual books, publish and sell them in
Flourish and Blotts for the future Hogwarts students’ use. I am also planning to credibly write for the
Daily Prophet, the magical world’s primary news bulletin. And of course, I will be very much honored to contribute to Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood’s
Quibbler (hence, my interest in magical researches). I have always found the Lovegoods a fascinating family, and I bet working with and for them will be very exciting. Or maybe, in Merlin’s beard’s time, I can write legends and bedtime stories like the famous – and wickedly brilliant – Beedle the Bard.
And that’s how my life goes these days. I am utterly missing my old school, my friends, the Great Hall, the bronze eagle knocker just outside the Ravenclaw common room, Professor Flitwick (the head of our house), Hogsmeade, the Quidditch matches (although I didn’t actually play for the house), the moving portraits, the castle ghosts, the pumpkins on Halloween, the giant pine trees on Christmas, Rubeus Hagrid’s (Hogwarts’ gamekeeper) tea and treacle fudge – even the crabby Argus Filch (Hogwarts’ caretaker) I miss. Maybe I can visit the school grounds sometimes and see how the magical world’s been doing since Voldemort died (I’ve been spending my months in the muggle world, you see). I’ve heard everybody’s been moving on and starting all over again; the ministry is back on work under Kingsley Shacklebolt; and Harry Potter’s scar haven’t been disturbing him since.
All is well, indeed.
And because of that, we should celebrate and drink firewhisky! Oh, I still don’t drink firewhisky; I can take butterbeer or tea or pumpkin juice – just not firewhisky, please.
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