Race Against Time (Last Part)

Previously on L'Heure Bleue

IV.

The week after my mother received her last dose of Sinovac, I became a strong advocate of vaccination. I have seen friends suffer from the effects of Covid so I told anyone within earshot to get the vaccine, no matter what the brand is.

Persuading the boyfriend, though, was another story. Being a person with a disability, it was necessary for him to get immunization as soon as possible. Getting the jab isn't the problem as he has always been a man of science, but like everyone, he had second thoughts about getting the China-made ones. He preferred doses with higher efficacy like the one being offered by Moderna or Pfizer. In the end, he decided to wait for the vaccines to be procured by their office. It might be months before it gets shipped, but at least, it was from a more reputable pharmaceutical company.

He also said he had already signed up for it.

But I digress.

V.

Mid-May and the surge of Covid cases at the beginning of summer had somehow ebbed. It gave everyone a sense of relief, while in other countries like India, Covid deaths numbered a thousand every day. Health experts suspect it was a new and more contagious variant. Meanwhile, the vaccine rollout in the metro continued unabated and the Weatherman had, at last, received a schedule. At the same time, a vaccine is being offered by his doctor so for him, it was just a matter of choice.

I would have preferred his doctor's vaccine even if it was less effective. It had mild side effects and the doctor would be the one to administer it. Knowing firsthand that she would just be a call away if problems come up, I think it was a worthwhile tradeoff. I told him to ask the doctor's advice and she shared the same insight. The next day, I drove the partner to the clinic. The inoculation process was fast and true to our expectations, he barely felt the side effects.

It would have been a different story had he taken the Astrazeneca being offered by the local government.

VI

The days in between the Weatherman's first Sinovac dose and the fateful morning, when I showed up at the Moises Salvador Elementary School to inquire about getting a vaccine and going home with my first jab were of little consequence. Life somehow became mundane. We were clandestinely doing road trips again going to the Sierra Madre - seeing breathtaking vistas for the first time, and we were finally meeting friends, even if we had to keep ourselves some distance as told by the doctors. The only other highlight was the boyfriend's siblings getting their jab as walk-in patients. 

On the day I got my immunization, one of the kasambahays got hers and so was the brother-in-law. 

When I completed my Sinovac doses a month later, only one extended family member (an elderly uncle, who would rather believe in hearsay than facts from her doctor sibling) remains defiant of the vaccine. 

This, so far, was our journey and we did race against time to protect those closest to our hearts. The Covid explosion in India and then in Indonesia, where mass graves had to be readied for the huge number of deaths, had finally arrived in the country last August. 

Known as the Delta Variant, it spreads thrice as fast as the original Covid strain from last year. And the vaccines that give us immunity, will eventually lose their efficacy. 

It is just a matter of time.

Credit

Race Against Time (First Part)

I.

When the first batch of Covid-19 vaccines was flown in from Beijing last March, a family member was able to secure a vial and got a jab ahead of everyone else. It was of course, unacceptable, unspeakable even. But knowing how wretched the system was, anyone with military connections can secure a slot. Besides, the vaccines were avoided like flies back then. Hesitancy was so high that even healthcare workers refused to get inoculated by anything coming from China. So the government gave the first batch to anyone willing to be Sinovac's "Guinea Pigs." And there were a lot of them, actually. Born out of desperation, they signed up without even knowing the side effects of the inactivated vaccine.

II.

I was adamant to get the jab. In fact, I was once called out by the woke children on Twitter for saying, "why should I take the vaccine from the same country where this virus came from?" They said it was a racist remark. I retorted, "mama mo racist," just to taunt them back.

But my outlook began to change when I learned that the Favorite Aunt got it. Sinovac was offered to doctors, nurses, and other healthcare workers and she was among the first to sign up for vaccination. The side effects were minimal. "Inantok lang ako," she claimed, and with the second wave last summer leaving us in a weeks-long state of anxiety, I signed up my mother when slots were assigned for the elderly.

III.

A month after a family member received a Sinovac vaccine ahead of everyone, the local government of Manila had announced that it will be inoculating the city's educators. It was Mid-April and the priority will be the elderly. The news broke out on the eve of the mass vaccination event. I immediately called the Favorite Aunt to seek her advice. She was very supportive of my decision to have my mom get the Sinovac vaccine. The next day, I drove her to the Palacio de Manila in Ermita to get her dose and as the needle found its way into her arm, her eyes revealed how terrified she was.

My mother was listed as one of those on the waiting list that morning. It turned out that the teachers belonging to the city's elementary and high school system were the ones scheduled that day, not the educators from the country's state universities in the city. As we were considered walk-ins, we almost went home, resigned to the idea that we would have to postpone and get another schedule. The series of miscommunications made us think that we would have to wait until the afternoon for our turn. With God's grace and my unyielding persistence though, we discovered that the queue had disappeared an hour after we arrived at the site.

She was among the first seniors to receive her first dose.

Inspired by our accomplishment, the Weatherman's dad had his first jab in another city the next day.

- to be continued - 

Monologues On A Rainy Saturday Afternoon

 Previously: Soundtripping On A Sunny Saturday Morning

Working on a beautiful Saturday morning is really bullshit. But since I have adapted already to this working lifestyle, I might as well enjoy it. Tutal, a Saturday work means extra income. Ok na rin to kahit paano.

Working on a Saturday is no biggie at all. You've been used to the hustle - for more than half a decade now. In fact, you even work on weekends. Sometime around your thirties, you realized that your salary will not be able to support your lifestyle - especially now - that you have 4 credit cards to pay, an 18-year old Toyota Revo that demands constant car maintenance, and a house that relies on your constant financial support to keep everyone's needs fulfilled.

One thing I like in the morning shift is that the bosses aren't here... well except for my ever-concerned supervisor who was hired two weeks after we started working on the floor. Having her as our supervisor means that she's more lenient and comfortable to work with compared to my other bosses and besides we share the same wavelength since we came from the same educational environment before we arrived here.

One thing that has changed is you no longer have to follow a fixed schedule. You go online and work as you please. In theory, you are the operations head: A lenient manager who leaves the day-to-day affairs of your colleagues to resolve among themselves. The owner of the company doesn't even check on you anymore. Either he is busy with his business affairs, or he has learned to trust that you won't fuck up on the job. And it doesn't mean that you leave things unattended. Technology has advanced tenfold that you can now observe, check on your colleagues' work, and be in constant communication with them with your smartphone. 

Anyway, as the music from the radio blared again, I've realized that they were still tuned in to Love Radio. My God, I was working straight for 12 hours yesterday and the whole time, it was tuned in to that friggin station. But of course, there's nothing wrong with Love Radio. In fact, it's kinda amusing to listen to novelty songs once in a while... but to listen the whole day, dude, I'm not committing suicide here... hellur!!!

Credits

Take for example yesterday, the Song to Memorize this week was a new song by Regine. Ampota, I heard it yesterday morning, then it was played again at around brunch time, then it was played again at around 2 pm, then again at 5 pm which matching sabay kanta from my colleagues here at work. It was the same with other songs. Anubayun, nauubusan ba sila ng patutugtugin?

Lucky for me, since I am in-jigs with my morning shift supervisor, I can ask her if I could change the station on our radio.

Anyway, since you have been working at home for almost a lifetime now, there is no need to accommodate colleagues who prefer a radio station different from yours. In fact, had you been working in the office, you can simply tell them to use an earphone so as not to disturb your inner peace. Would you believe that Love Radio is still around? They have been on the airwaves long enough that some kids won't even know what "Novelty" songs are. Regine Velasquez is still an icon but she is with the Kapamilya Network now. After building a career with GMA-7, she would sign up with the largest broadcasting network in the country (that is, before the President's lawmakers refused to grant them a franchise last year.)

If I have a choice, I'd switch it to NU-107, but since our happy radio only tunes in to three stations, I have no choice but to choose the two alternatives. I was lucky to find some super-conyo station today. I tuned it to Jam 88.3 and my morning and suddenly, my morning became inspiring.

Sadly, NU-107 is now a legend. Their station had an upsetting reformat a decade ago.

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What I prefer about my music is that it should be alternative/indie - meaning, only a few people know my music and fewer would appreciate it. I prefer light alternative over metal or some other genre that involves shouting and cursing. I like my songs to be melancholic, if not relaxing. I would really love to travel listening to songs that could make me contemplate things.

Years down the road and your genre has never changed. You still switch to Alternative Rock and Indie music because they take you to another place and another time, where you see everything through rose-tinted glasses and relive moments that your heart still remembers. 

Often, I download the songs I liked on KAzAA. That way, I could include it in my collection of MP3s (which I think could already be considered as one of the most diverse among the OUTSIDERs.) In fact, I think the only one who rivals my MP3 collection is James.

If only I could have access to more indie-light alternative music like today, then I'd spend most of my evening downloading songs as I compose an entry in my blog.

And no longer do you settle for bootleg copies. Gone are the music players and MP3s are so 2010. Kazaa is history and while you have remained an avid music playlist curator, your songs these days come from streaming and you listen on platforms like Spotify. You have your handy smartphone to download the app.

  

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Before, when I was often in the party crowd, I'd choose House Music over Hip Hop. Nun nga, I was engrossing myself with Diva House when my gangsta cousin from the US, influenced me to make space for Hip Hop in my genre. After our unforgettable party at Temple, where a nice lady made passes on me, I started adopting that genre - buying pirated Hip Hop CDs at University Mall if time allowed.

And house music? Well, ever since I dropped out of Malate, I've realized that its time has already ended. We would wait perhaps another year, before another mutation of club sounds appears on our disco bars.

Sad for toinks and arrjae eh? ganun talaga eh.

A lot of things have changed since you published this blog. You have never really found Hiphop and Rap music to your liking, Diva House lost its appeal sometime in 2010, the University Mall has likely become a derelict building after face-to-face classes were prohibited last year when the pandemic began. The Malate generation has likely outgrown their taste for clubbing and electronic dance music, and Arrjae, your dear friend has passed away a few months ago. 

Someday, we hope to tell his story one last time.

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For as long as I could remember, music has always been one of my best way of relaxation/find relaxation - From the enchanting voice of Enya and happy-go-lucky songs of Eraserheads during 2nd-year highschool; to the angsty, jaded songs of Green Day, Paula Cole and Alanis Morissette during 4th-year h.s.;

From Smashing Pumpkins, Cranberries, and a dozen of alternative bands during College and Trance, house, chill out when I started partying after graduation -

I think I've always been a sound tripper.

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But some things will always stay, and likely you will carry on until the end of your days. Music for relaxation is no longer about sound tripping to fall asleep or do repetitive tasks at work (you would likely find yourself updating your Spotify playlists instead). It is more about turning your car's stereo on full volume to relax your mind as you cruise along the Skyway. Green Day, Eraserheads, Paula Cole, and Alanis Morissette would likely leave you nostalgic these days instead of actually singing along the most gut-wrenching lines of your favorite songs. For what it's worth, we look back on a rainy Saturday afternoon just to amuse ourselves at how surreal life has changed. Because should you be blessed enough to have enough breaths for another 17 years, maybe, we would find the time to write back and tell us what your life has become.

Minecraft

 

Post originally published on Instagram

Early this year, I bought my nephew Minecraft after he promised that he will improve his math grades. His turnaround wasn't stellar, but I decided to keep the end of the bargain. After all, I was doing far worse, academically, when I was his age. So I thought, why must we impose expectations when those same set of expectations simply left me upset, disappointed, and resigned with my mediocre quiz scores back when I was still an elementary school student?

These days, he was showing off his creations on that app. The last time, it was a sophisticated house with lots of rooms and even fixtures. Now, it was a zoo with exotic birds and even a panda, pixilated and digitized so it would exist in a sandbox video game. And while he barely got my attention, I was aware of how this will shape his way of thinking and perceiving things. What he is doing, unconsciously, is creating his own imaginary world, and along with it, he is putting his vision to work.

And that makes me so proud.

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I do not know a lot of gaming apps and how they work on mobile devices, but for a kid, barely 10 years old to engage in world-building and being good at it is something to celebrate.

Because we don't teach creativity these days.

And as someone who had spent much of his childhood playing video games - learning world history from it (Civilization), learning astronomy from it (Master of Orion), learning urban planning and transport management from it (Sim City and Transport Tycoon), and learning storytelling from it (The Sims), I would rather see him getting immersed in his worlds and creating objects as he envisioned them than playing games that promote senseless violence and wanton destruction.

And who knows where his creativity would take him one day.

If only we could imagine.

Lenin complained of a sudden headache a few nights ago and it was immediately followed by a surge in body heat. 39.0 when we took his temperature. As he wasn't displaying the usual symptoms - cough, sore throat, or runny nose, we asked if he had trouble breathing. He said no, but instead, he complained of a tummyache. Having a fever and stomach discomfort these days is already a cause of alarm. Children are no longer spared from the Covid 19 Delta variant. Some are even dying from it. And so the next day, his grandparents from the father side traveled all the way from the highlands of Cavite with a MedTech to get his bloodwork done, and to also perform an Antigen test. That same day, the results came in. He had no infection whatsoever and his White Blood Cell count is normal. We would just have to wait for the Antigen results. 

Lenin still had a high fever that night.

We are supposed to be used to our kids getting sick. Diego had lots of hospital confinement and even Den had one. But this time, things are different. All the hospitals in Metro Manila and the surrounding provinces are swamped with Covid patients. Some people now even die in parking lots. So it is very difficult to imagine should one of us needs to be rushed to the hospital. We might not even get accommodated. 

It was a sleepless second night as we watched over Lenin while waiting for his results to come out the next day. I worked, I played Stellaris, I even went to Quiapo Church at daybreak just to seek another favor and ask the Nazareno for an intercession. The results got delayed for a few hours and so was my bedtime. 

At the back of my head, I would like to believe it wasn't Covid. The Favorite Aunt and I made sure everyone's already vaccinated just before the Delta Variant became widespread. I took that sliver of hope into my sleep hoping that when I wake up, things will get back to normal.

And it did.

The Antigen result showed that it wasn't Covid19. Lenin's condition has also improved significantly. While another round of bloodwork is still needed to make sure it isn't Dengue, we are hoping that we are out of the woods and that Lenin is now set on a path of recovery. 

Daybreaker (Rinavia Remix)

Previously on Daybreaker

"Indigo sky. Lovely. This is the reason I love daybreaks." I posted on Twitter. I've always been a sunset person. The one you'd see staring blankly into space as the sun disappears on the horizon. But there are times I turn my back and crane my neck to the east. It's difficult for a nocturnal person to chase the sunrise, but seeing the world in slumber, about to open its eyes to a new day is a sight worth waiting.

There is nothing amusing to fall asleep at past noon, only to wake up when evening falls. Joyless it is to regain awareness (after sliding from one forgettable dream to another) only to sink into the realms of confusion as the absence of sunlight robs you with the perception of time. Occasionally, sleep knocks hours before midnight, only for me to regain peak wakefulness when everyone is already in bed. With silence as my companion, I start my day during the hours of the wolf, which extends around lunchtime, and then the circadian rhythm renews another cycle.

This has been my body clock ever since the Weatherman decided to look after his siblings. When the 3rd ECQ was announced early this month, he had to be the Kuya once more. Their father, the once head of the household, is already living with his sister and is looking after his nephews. Someone has to step into his shoes and direct the affairs of the house.

The Weatherman's absence had forced me to move my sleeping time way past sunrise. Not only do I dread the thoughts of nightfall, but in the early days of his return to his familial duties, the significant other also found it difficult to catch that much elusive sleep. So I kept him company only to realize we're still up at past 7 in the morning.

Make no mistake. Sleeping past brunch time has already been a habit, especially when there is a need for long-distance driving outside the city. The only difference now is the seemingly unshakeable pattern and the hours when drowsiness finally catches up. It's not healthy anymore.

And so, this is the nth time I would likely go to bed sometime around noon. And though the daybreak wakefulness has its perks (the sights and sounds before sunrise still leave you a little bit hopeful of tomorrow. Also, less human exposure means lesser chances of catching and passing along the Covid 19 virus), I still yearn to return to a more conventional sleeping pattern. 

Nobody wants to be the sole person awake when everyone has gone deep into slumber.