Tawi Tawi Solar Eclipse Rewind

Tawi Tawi Solar Eclipse Rewind

Amidst the hectic preparation for the upcoming Shanghai Solar Eclipse expedition this July, I can’t help but recall the wondrous and bittersweet events that happened many many years back.

The year was 1995. We’ve set up an expedition team to the southernmost region of the Philippines to witness, a Total Solar Eclipse, a phenomenon, which it seems even now rare and to-die-for..

It had all the elements of a seemingly insurmountable task – a rare event that couldn’t be postponed, a remote location purported to be terrorist-infested, a four-year old organization with meager funds.

We had the guts to venture to a place where no other Phil. University-based astronomical organization ever set foot before.
We had the technical expertise of our founding members (Bamm, Winston, Denncapps and Monchie come to mind) to make the expedition laudable.
But the one thing that we lacked was funding.

As the head of the organization at that time, the greatest share of burden was with me.
We had to ensure that the team had a fighting chance of going to Tawi Tawi.
There was no room for delays.
There was no room for errors.

We might have been experts in identifying the heavenly bodies in the sky, but soliciting money from sponsors, we sucked. Big time.

I recall going from one company to another in my office attire to solicit for funds. At that time I would say I was looking my best. On hindsight though, I might have looked hideous in my oversized yellow polos, slovenly tucked on poorly pressed khakis, not to mention, an obtrusive umbrella and worn-out backpack in tow.

I braved the sweltering heat of the sun (MRT and FX were non-existent yet at that time, so imagine the perspiration I might be having) knocking on the doors of would-be sponsors. Botak, Aboitiz, and Fujifilm. (if we can’t solicit money maybe can save through tshirts, films and transportation)

Looking back I realize how naïve I was of the corporate world. I tried looking for their marketing directors without even setting up an appointment.

Fortunately their secretaries have been very much cordial, meeting me at the lobby informing me that their bosses are outside the office (a story they probably made up) and that they would call back. We never heard back from them.

I recall our team going to ABSCBN to audition for the game show “Ready Get Set Go”. (TV auditions were popular for orgs during those times- some could get a whopping 20,000 in one weekend). Of course we never made it, nor even had a crack at the initial selection process. I don’t blame the producers. Who would want to put a bunch of boring, bespectacled nerds on their TV show?

I even tried tapping our congressman in Batasan but failed to have a pinch of his pork barrel. (now I understand why I partly loathe the congressmen hehehe)

Fortunately some team members were resourceful enough to get us some slots in the military C130 flight to Zamboanga; a tedious process of constant calling which fortunately bore fruit. We were also fortunate to tie up with MSU-Tawi Tawi to give us accommodations.

Despite best efforts, I was only able to solicit PhP 2000, from Hans Arber, an amateur astronomer who incidentally documented the great 1955 Total Solar Eclipse in Manila. (Sir wherever you are, maraming salamat po!)

In the end, the 12 delegates who chose to go, had to raise the money for themselves Monch, Winston, Bamm, Denncapps, Sean, Aleah, Francis, Beng, Lisel,Camilo, and Joan were fortunate enough to get money from their personal circles.

As a DOST-scholar living only on stipends, the PhP 2000 I solicited was my passport to Tawi-Tawi…If not for the kind gesture of Hans I would have never made it.

Though I was immensely lucky to be part of the 12-man expedition I still somehow felt bad because there would have been other members who could have gone had we generated more funds.

I am so terrible with closures and I guess the Tawi-Tawi frustration was something I had with me all these years.

When I heard about the Shanghai Solar Eclipse, I just knew that life was giving me a second chance.

Many many years have passed since my college days. At my current status I could observe this rare event on my own and not sweat a thing.

But I wanted to extend that experience to one, two or three souls who might find the event life-changing. Souls who have the yearning to observe, but like us before, are limited by resources.

So we’re exhausting all means to help them in our own capacity by reaching out to other people in our network

I might have failed once in TawiTawi in 1995. I sure hope not to do so this time in 2009.

I guess despite all these years, there is still that clueless boy in me who once trudged on the desolate hill of Pag-asa.

I know he would be very happy.

Shanghai Solar Eclipse

In many ways, being an astronomer entails a lot of risks.
We risk the indifference of others when we marvel at ordinary celestial events
We suffer ridicule when we revel at a seemingly banal night sky
We endure mockery when we find magic in the most mundane of things - a clear moonless night, a setting sun perhaps, a shooting star so fleeting and feeble

Yet the common redemption that we amateurs share, is that in a world that has gone detached from life’s simple joys, those moments of basking at the unknown and unfathomable is an experience far more profound and enlightening.

And then there are times when an enthusiast truly risks everything in pursuit of the rare.
For while we delight in the ordinary, what wonders could be expected in the extraordinary?

To say that a total solar eclipse is a rarity…. is an utter understatement.
The upcoming eclipse in Shanghai will be the longest in our lifetime.
And the chance to observe a similar event (at least for those based in the Philippines) might never pass again.

In the past we have travelled to the southernmost part of the country to chase the elusive; the odds almost insurmountable; the results heart-breaking.

The overcast ruined what otherwise would have been a spectacular view

So here we are again 14 long years after, with Nature beckoning and giving us a second chance.

We might have been scarred before but our spirits are not dampened.

Yet the bitter truth that we amateurs must face- and this is where the greatest risk lies - is that despite all our efforts and preparation, we will still be at the mercy of the Supreme during that crucial moment.

In the past I took lightly the words of a colleague that “astronomy is a humbling experience”. But only now do I truly realize what it meant.

I will be in Shanghai soon for that second chance - longing and hopeful.

The Journey...part 1

Life is a journey. Indeed it has been. And it still is.

And it goes for everyone. For every human is a traveler, a nomad in search for his own answers.

And though I am no longer a big fan of life- for life has its own flaws and peculiarities- I embrace the journey that has been.

The years are slipping by. My memory starts to fade. I used to bask in the enormous power of youth, revel in its beauty. But now the inevitable has come.

And as I approach the twilight of my youth let me share my own piece, stake my own claim.

Of all the journeys I have traveled, one stood out among the rest.

One that struck a chord in my heart.

One that I chose to hold on, with such steadfastness as if my whole being resides on it.

Ten years ago, it all seemed like it was yesterday, I embraced the unknown and embarked on a journey hoping to find some answers on life’s elusive questions.

A movie once said that a woman’s heart is an ocean of secrets.

A man’s heart is no different.

Despite the calmness of its surface, the currents of emotions are raging, well hidden in the abyss.

To unearth the hidden, one must have the patience and the will to go down deep through the darkest cracks and crevices.

Beneath every smile is a story of pain. And behind every sorrow is a promise of redemption.

Writing this now, ten years after, is a journey on its own.

It a journey within.

And a journey back home.

The time has come…

I am not an Eheads fan... Really

Tonight as I write this, hordes of fans from the metropolis or probably all over the country, are heading to MOA to witness a closure of a much sought-after reunion. If you are one of the fans (which I suspect you are) I am sure you know what I’m talking about… the Eraserheads.

It had nearly been a decade that die hard folks have clamored for the reunion concert which became a reality sometime in August, albeit anticlimactic with the collapse of the lead vocalist.

But tonight, fate it seemed, conspired to finally give what many thought was impossible.

That I chose to stay at home to listen to their mp3’s in my laptop instead of chanting and head-banging with a delirious crowd under a moonlit sky would probably make my close friends wonder.

After all, I am a huge Eheads fan capable of reciting the lyrics of all their songs from their early albums : Ultracelectromagnetic pop to Sticker Happy.

I can still recall the time I passed by SC and saw the promotional poster for Circus. I even offered a silent prayer that they would make it. I recall the time I discussed with Aleah and Francis the songs in Cutterpillow album or the time Denise, Ting and I went to Anonas to watch the Eheads gig (and couldn’t believe my eyes that Ely was performing less than 3 meters away from us!). I recall how my Jeoppard barkada would play their sounds on our weather-beaten cassette atop our treehouse.

I know the concert would be a trip down memory lane but my enthusiasm is tempered by my fear that the crowd would be unmanageable and unruly, not to mention the inconvenience of the traffic and the long queues. I am hoping to live vicariously once the video is eventually uploaded on Youtube.

But maybe (and it’s still something I debate with myself) I have learned to embrace early on about their break up.

It was inevitable, admittedly disheartening that it was bitter, but let’s face it .. the tunes they were belting out after Sticker Happy were horrible.

I have learned that while Eheads played the music of my life, that they have articulated the angst of my generation…( Huwag mo nang Itanong: Field trip sa may pagawaan ng lapis ay katulad ng buhay natin……Spolarium : Pwede bang itigil muna ang pag-ikot ng mundo….Alapaap: Ang daming bawal sa mundo.. sinasakal nila tayo) , there comes a point where you just have to accept the inevitable and move on.. I guess it’s part of growing up.

Haven’t the Eheads captured that thought impeccably? Kalayaan: Tayo ay nilimot ng kahapon. Di na mapipilitang buhayin ang ating pinagsamahan…

But then again..

Ngunit kung sakaling mapadaan baka ikaw ay aking tawagan… dahil minsan tayo ay naging tunay na magkaibigan

Maybe that’s the reason why these clueless folks are converging if only to have a brief glimpse of the past.

And maybe that’s also the reason why though I have convinced myself that I have moved on, I will still play their music tonight on my laptop.

Past Forward

I have been swamped with a wave of nostalgia of late.

It started, I guess, when I went back to my hometown to attend the wedding of a childhood friend.

As his Best Man, I gave a speech during reception; on how our friendship went back a long way; on how things were when we were young.

I realized that what seemed like yesterday now reside in the distant and irretrievable past…

Those afternoon treks to the nearby hills, those evenings lazing in our tree house, those jamming sessions with the Eheads blaring on our weather-beaten cassette..

It was easy for me to recall those memories because they have such a huge impact on our barkada.

But browsing though my diaries last weekend, I realized there were so many stuff from the past that I have logged but could no longer recall.

Also during the Xmas break, there were 3 incidents from long time ago, that my friends have narrated that I could barely put a simulacrum that would give justice… The tutorial session in Visayas Ave. that Maritess was insisting; the drinking session in Night Brews where I got drunk and hyper as Jua and Noy were narrating; the horror room which we’ve put in the neighborhood as Jua was fondly reminiscing

It had been frustrating trying to squeeze my brain out for some memories, for some clues, for some remnant information that would validate my friends’ stories. But it had been a futile attempt. And it still is..

It was a bit unsettling because in my Pisay batch, I would be the one who would be able to recall the most significant bits ad pieces of our high school life.

I came to accept that maybe some events have been not that significant that my mind no longer holds it along with the emotions and feelings that went with it.

But then again maybe I have not worked hard enough to log the others that should have been significant.

For there are some memories that have long been kept in the deep recesses of the mind that spring back to life the moment an association is made…a haunting smell, a weird dream, a familiar face, a moving journal.

We are defined after all by the bits and pieces of the memories that we have.

Our significance, our identity, our existence rests in a way on those information. ( A Twilight Zone episode, The movies Total Recall and Dark City all come to mind)

And so I made a vow to write as much as I could of all the significant things of the past that I have not yet written.

Not for anyone else but for my older self who would someday be reading this to make a grasp of the past.

Wet Dreams May Come

A few nights ago in Hanoi Vietnam, I had a rather weird dream…

Well dreams mostly are weird, it lacks logic. Yet the weirdness of this one was not in the absurdity of its content but rather on its cohesiveness in the sense that the plot went on smoothly; every scene woven intricately to make a meaningful story. It was probably the reason I had a vivid recollection the morning after.

In my dream there was an inquiry on some unexplained absences in COE . Ms Manette was explaining to the investigators, the reason .

It started with a seemingly innocuous jar that looked like kimchi manufactured in Taiwan. Turns out the product had some weird ingredient that any girl who consumes a significant serving gets impregnated. The product was simply the tip of the iceberg. It was learned that there was a whole syndicate behind its mass production. The real intention was to harvest the babies and aborted fetuses from the customers, to be sold as delicacies.

Mommy Ellen accidentally discovered upon this information through an incompetent tele-marketer selling the product.

She shared the whole story to the COE team. The syndicate wanting to safeguard the information, placed the entire team on their hit list.

In order to protect the COE team after office hours, Ms Manette relocated the COE Team to Corregidor Island temporarily.

Ezra who just came from the island over the weekend shared the story to me discreetly.

I got paranoid because with the information, I would now also be in the hit list.

And then I woke up.

Ok don’t ask me for its meaning… I have no idea.

************

I guess dreams have fascinated me.

They fascinate me still, hence I have been keeping a dream journal since college.

I haven’t been really diligent in logging down entries these past few years. Had I been; I might have finished 2 notebooks already.

There are times that I get to have a glimpse of the future through my dreams… a premonition, if you will.

I foresaw a transfer of a colleague to Singapore.

I was warned by a betrayal of a friend through a dream.

Once in Mindanao I dreamt about a colleague I haven’t gotten in touch in a while. The following day he called me that he was in town.

Two weeks before the Tawi Tawi Solar Eclipse expedition was announced I dreamt being in the southernmost part of the Philippines.

Had some dejavus as well from my dreams… the bend in the house of Vince in Bulacan, a street corner in Anonas, the rooftop of Boys Residence Hall Annex with my roommates, the mini-waterfalls in Magdalena… these are some of the things I recall.

The romanticist in me would like to believe that yes, dreams are indeed a gateway to another dimension, a glimpse of things to come, a harbinger or maybe an omen.

On the other hand the skeptic in me would say that with millions of possible combinations surely something would come true…

The rationalist in me would say that dreams are nothing but the product of the brain making sense of random electrical pulses during filing of memories, thoughts and cognitions.

It could be those hidden hopes, repressed thoughts, filtered desires that seep out of the subconscious…( I have tried being the shrink and the patient with the help of the dream journal, but self-analysis can be pretty knotty and oftentimes deluding)

The realist in me would just go with what Isacc Newton has marvelously captured in his quote…that I am just a boy fascinated with the shore while the great of ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.

Dream on Jodl…

BONDing moment

Just watched the new Bond movie “ Quantum of Solace”.

Well… what could I say… whew it went beyond my expectations.

It’s the most adrenalin-pumping movie in the series yet, a pure rush right from the car chase in the opening scene.

But I won’t spoil the you with the other details.

You just have to watch it to enjoy the ride.

As I’ve mentioned in a blog 2 years back, watching a Bond movie has always been an intimate experience for me.. a communion of sorts.

http://jodl007.multiply.com/journal/item/5/Ramblings_of_a_Bond_Afficionado

This time around I had the pleasure of watching it with my youngest bro and youngest sis.

It’s probably the Bond fan in me that makes me remember the folks I was with when I watched the movie for the first time.

My dad, my unc, bro # 2 for The Spy Who Loved Me

My mom, bro #1 for For Your Eyes Only ( I remember this vividly because we had to cut classes haha)

Jazz Ramiro for GoldenEye

Ms Doctolero for The World Is Not Enough

Pazette and Darwin for Die Another Day ( the only Bond movie I watched outside the Philippines)( thanks for the poster Pazette, I still have it with me)

Person X for Casino Royale ( I was under the specific instruction not to reveal the name until maybe after 5 years for some funny but very valid reason)

Bro # 3, sis # 3 for Quantum of Solace

Guess I owe sis #1 and sis #2 a date when the next Bond movie comes out.

It’ll be a 2-year wait but I think it’ll be worth it.. Yeba !

Goodbye James...

The first time I saw the Tomorrow Never Dies poster in a decrepit hall of Ever Gotesco Kalookan, I just knew it was to die for. The following week I was scouring the streets of Manila in the dizzying heat looking for a video shop that by some stroke of luck would be selling that poster.

I had one eventually. Two long months after the Bond movie was shown.

When I came down to Mindanao for my 3-year sojourn, a roll of that “Tomorrow Never Dies” poster came along with my 20-kg baggage.

And ever since, in every chapter of my journey, that poster has always been with me, taped on the cold walls of my bedroom.

From the teachers’ cottage in Kalsangi to the engineer’s quarters in Cannery housing to the cramped bed space in lungga to the 4-th floor apartment in Sucat to the 2-bedroom unit in Antipolo and finally to my bungalow in Sucat.

It had always kept me company through the crests and troughs of my life. Somehow those piercing eyes of Pierce watched faithfully how I grappled with my daily mission. Sometimes a mission gets botched. Other times I save the day. And in all those it stood a silent witness, a loyal comrade.

As fate would have it…I once again had to leave my house in Sucat ….just when I was about to call it home.

When the packing was done I was amazed at how my 20-kg baggage has grown to gigantic proportions…tons of memories I have amassed over the years…

And my 10-yr old poster was still there.. torn and tattered through years of taping and re-taping.

When the time came for me to remove it from the wall, somehow it told me it finally wanted to stay.. Peeling it again would further aggravate whatever damage it has gone through all these years.. Maybe I have held on to it more than what was needed.

I wish I could still post it on my new bedroom. I wish it could be with me on my future missions.

But somehow those probing eyes of James Bond this time was giving me a new mission . …To finally let go.

The Climb (part 4)

Smacked in middle of the sparse vegetation is the base camp of Mt. Sembrano, complete with all its amenities - water source 5 minutes away, flat ground for the tent, and nearby thick bushes which would serve as nature’s comfort room.

(Warning. Mountain climbing is not for the squeamish or the weak-hearted. When push comes to shove, you would have to dig up a hole amidst the undergrowth to answer the call of nature. Pray that momma nature doesn’t give you the kind that could only be stopped by Immodium.)

We had our late lunch at the base camp – rice, luncheon meat and Lucky Me instant pansit canton cooked up by Jhoc and James.

It must be the dire need for energy source or the communion with nature or the scarcity of luxuries but out there, ordinary food tasted heavenly; trumping even those chef’s specialties in hotels. We wolfed the food in no time, though careful not to overconsume lest we receive a call from mother nature.

Feeling inutile, I volunteered to wash the utensils and the cook set afterwards. In climbing there is that tacit agreement of division of labor. You let others do the tasks in their field of expertise. Since am no expert in pitching tents or cooking rice or opening cans with a spoon, I took the most macho of all tasks – washing the dishes.

So there I was in the waterfalls of Sembrano busy scrubbing off the stubborn oils from the pans, contemplating upon my newfound competency. Jodl Gayatin EHS expert, and Six Sigma black belt, now also a certified mountain boy and dishwasher extraordinaire.

After what felt like a worthy break, we resumed our trek.

This was where my will got tested. Unlike the first part, the other half of the trail was now mostly assault - with inclines as steep as 45 degrees. In physics terms (here’s where the geeky part of me steps in), it was not only the X displacement that was tiring us. There was now the force along the Y, the eeeevil gravity that was taking the toll on our bodies. And with the heavy packs that we were lugging, every step was hell.

I was beginning to feel the tiredness and the pain. Every 5 minutes or so I would stop by to catch my breath. The memories of the sumptuous meal was fast slipping away.

I thought about my officemates and wondered how would they have handled the situation. Martin might have backed out because of his back problem. Lester might have surrendered with his dislocated shoulder. Gian… well he’s the metrosexual of the Big Brother facility, he would have opted to stay in the base camp near the water source.

(Another warning: Mountain climbing is not for the compulsively vain or the cultured metrosexual. Out there in the wild, you would have to live without the toners, the scrub, the facial cleanser and other stuff you get to see in those grooming kits. In some places where water is scarce you would have to forego bath for at least 24 hours.)

The thought of my officemates brought me a new surge of energy. I was still annoyed at them but now it was pride that got me marching on. I just had to find myself up there in the summit so I could narrate the details of my conquest come Monday and make them feel they had made the wrong decision.

Though tired I still took note of how my teammates were doing and they were consistent; Jhoc still the perky trailblazer, James still the Axe perspirant endorser and Win, still the huffing and puffing Michelin incarnate.

After about 1 or 2 hours in the woods (which seemed to last a lot longer) we hit the grassy area where the trail leveled off (yeba!!!!!).

Apparently my relief was short-lived because 10 minutes later we hit off another incline (aaarghh).

There is truth to the saying that the darkest part of the night happens before dawn. This is where the hardest part of the trail met us. The last leg. The hill before the summit. The final hurdle.

The hill was rather bare and we had to grapple on weeds to haul us up. Win was already tired and Jhoc, saviour as he was, slung on Win’s backpack. I tried to keep a good distance from Win as we maneuvered our way up and for a good reason.

The incline was so steep that any imbalance on his part could send him rolling down. I did not like the idea of a human avalanche hurtling toward me. If I were to appear in the news the day after, I would rather be found in the ravine from a fall than in the trail flattened by a human snowball.

Fortunately none of these grim scenarios happened.

And so it came, like any stories of human hardships, we finally hit the summit just in time to watch the magnificent sunset over Laguna de Bay.

This is the prize that every mountaineer seeks after long bouts of hardships. The view at the summit.

Most would dismiss it as something trivial. Perhaps foolish. For some not worth the trouble maybe.

But up there in the summit… there is that sound that only a mountaineer could hear.

I have heard it before in Matutum. I was hearing it again.

It is that sound of silence as one views the world from the top.

The sound when all the chaos of the world fades in the background and what remains is that deep silence that is moving .

The sound of the eternal.

The sound of the majestic.

And for that moment up there, the mountaineer and the mountain become one.

(fin)

The Climb part 3

The rendezvous was at our old office in Pasong Tamo.

We were supposed to conquer Makiling, but somehow we ended up with Sembrano, a minor mountain in the town of Pililia, Rizal.

James invited two non-officemates to join the climb: Jhoc and Win.

Jhoc had been James’ buddy in previous climbs. The first time I met Jhoc I knew he was a true blue mountaineer. There was something in the way he tied his shoelaces or the way he rolled the flysheet that exuded deft, discipline and bravado. He’s the kind of guy you don’t want to end up in a brawl but would be happy to have in your team.

Win, Jhoc’s cousin, by contrast was at the far end of the spectrum. I knew from the moment he boarded the taxi when we picked him up at the MRT that he was a neophyte. He wore a pair of slippers and lugged a highschool backpack, he might have thought we were in for an afternoon stroll. He bore an uncanny resemblance to a stalker I had in Mindanao so unconsciously I was a bit aloof to him.

In all honesty, I was a bit relieved to have Win with us. There was something intimidating about the way James and Jhoc held their mountain bags. They somehow exuded an air of seriousness about their craft, and I only tagging along for a taste of the mountain was obviously the weakest link.

Having Win with us gave me company in the amateur division, so to speak

We took a taxi to Edsa Central where we boarded on a cramped FX van to Tanay. We bought some stuff first in the market- rice, onion, cooking oil, Generoso brandy - before taking a jeepney to the jump off site.

We registered first at the town hall (which by the way is good practice, so they would have your contact numbers in the event of an emergency).

The trail started off on a slightly inclined road and we began the climb right about noon time. The midday heat was searing but the trees along the road, mostly mangoes, provided good shade.

I was a bit surprised on the level of energy I had that day. It was probably because there was still this remnant anger (for my other officemates abandoning me).

I was channeling it to the heavy and determined strides I made.

Every time we stopped to have a photo op, I made it a point to have my hatred documented. Discreetly, of course.

I would raise my hand then curl my middle finger inward. Fill in the blanks was the caption in my mind. ( It was my subtle way of saying f**k you to my office buddies, haha)

It was my first climb with a group ( I climbed my first mountain- Mt. Matutum, alone) and having folks to chat with somehow made the climb easy. (It was on this climb that I learned the nicknames Empoy and Longgoy)

As I predicted Jhoc was leading the pack. He was skipping from rock to rock like a creature in its own habitat, gung-ho and throwing caution to the wind; his nimbleness, jaw-dropping, his sense of balance, impeccable.

James was also a force to reckon with. He might be timid in the office, but out there in the fields, he strode commanding and formidable. He was by far carrying the heaviest load in the group, yet he barely sweated out, like he’s an endorser of Axe antiperspirant or something.

Win as I predicted was a mess. He was sweating profusely and his white shirt-oops wrong choice there- has turned into a rag of sweat, grime, and dirt. He looked worse than that guy in the Tide commercial dragged across the mud.

The ascent was rather easy and before we knew it we hit the base camp. Freshly picked coconuts at 10 PhP a pop were a welcome sight. I guzzled 2 nuts worth of juice in less than a minute. I was rather disappointed that the climb had been easy…

Little did I know we were only half way through and that the harder part of the trail was still up ahead.