Sunday, July 5, 2009
From my second floor window.
This is in continuation to my previous post. I felt compelled to write this because I accidentally deleted the post when I had meant to post it. That's what I get from writing with one eye shut due to drowsiness. It's was almost 11pm!!!
Anyway, our new apartment is a typical two-bedroom concrete abode with a medium-sized living area/kitchen downstairs and two bedroom upstairs. Certainly nothing special. Well I consider myself a simple person. I don't require too many material things to be comfortable. One thing I love though is that perch above the action. Of course, one of the upstairs room is my bedroom, and it's where I stare out of the window, daydream, and where I check out the scene as it affords me a direct birds eye view of this small village.
There is a fair amount of action here, although perhaps "action" is the wrong word. It's more like a typical daily life in a quiet city village.It's just that my house literally sits at the end of the road, a poor marked narrow lane and well away from the busy highway. There is no thru-road through our village.
From my window I can see the top of coconut trees and water tanks in this subdivision and the next. On certain days I can look down the street and see men sitting in the worn wooden benches, their shirt rolled up around their bellies quietly sipping their brandy and ice tea. As the day wears on, they become louder, they laugh a lot and they start to do that drunken lean.
From my window I can watch the comings and goings of the residents here. I also watch as the various characters wander through trying to extract a few peso from the residents. The village is practically hidden and yet, they still manage to find us. The general quiet of this village is constantly being interrupted throughout the day by people selling their wares - the fish vendor, the guy selling "taho"(sweet tofu snack), the shoe and umbrella repair man, the ice cream vendor, and many others. And as the night fall, the ever present "balut" vendor. Easily the biggest activity of the day in this village is the buying, selling, delivery and carrying of items. It's truly amazing how we Filipinos spend an inordinately large portion of out day dealing with something so basic.
On some evenings, I can see teenagers gather regularly under the street lamp and play guitar and sing songs. Or mothers sitting on benches talking and laughing. Dogs and cats cannot be ignored as their noise would mingle amongst the existing ones.
But what truly amazes me is that time of day when it's not night and it's not day. The point where night just ends and morning has yet to begin. That's where the "blue hour" occurs. It can last for just a fraction of a second, but when it does, the entire world comes to a halt and there is complete and total silence.
Most people are asleep at that time or, if they are awake, are not paying attention. I once happened to be awake at that time and I found myself staring out of the second floor window looking out over the trees into the dark night.
And there it was.
For one precious moment the world had come to a complete halt. The wind died, the rooster and dog went silent, no cars or planes could be heard. A moment later the world explodes into a new day and the blue hour is gone.
A glimpse of some magic right from my second floor window.