Thursday, November 15, 2007

Memories of Bohol

It's been more than a year, and I am more than excited to go back to Bohol - Piper's most favorite place in the whole world. We were there in May 2006 for a project we did together.

We had fun, but because we had limited time, we were not able to see much of the place.

With the whole crew: Stickies in Bohol!

Before that, in January 2005, I went to the northern part of Bohol to do a story on seahorses, but I didn't get to go around either.

In October of this year, Piper was there with Prue for the kick-off charity of The Happy Sun campaign.

I would have gone if my schedule had permitted it. She and Prue got to spend some leisure time around the island and I am just green with envy.

They even got to reconnect with the Charmed Ones' long lost sister, Phoebe.

This month, I finally get to go back to Bohol (November 29 to December 2). I'm going with Single Fish, who is just as excited to explore (ravage?) Bohol. I hope to finally see and experience its more popular offers - the hills, the fauna, the river cruise, the people, Brownbuds, and Phoebe. This time I am not leaving anything out. Of course, first on the agenda is to get in the water with the fishies and the dolphins.

Bohol, you better be ready, because you and I have a date!

(Photos from Piper and Prue's Bohol trip courtesy of Piper and Prue.)

Postscript: If you've noticed, I've been backtracking a bit lately. Recently, I've been able to get my hands on a lot of old pictures so indulge me a bit as I look back into my wonderful past. Later, will post pictures from my Pangasinan vacation with my brother and sister. Plus, Single Fish is sending me more pictures of the Boracay wedding we attended.

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The Chronicler's Creed

Where there's water and sun, where there are friends to see or new people to meet, where there's something new to learn, experience, or do, where there's life, there I will be.


Y fue a esa edad... Llegó la poesía
a buscarme. No sé, no sé de dónde
salió, de invierno o río.
No sé cómo ni cuándo,
no, no eran voces, no eran
palabras, ni silencio,
pero desde una calle me llamaba,
desde las ramas de la noche,
de pronto entre los otros,
entre fuegos violentos
o regresando solo,
allí estaba sin rostro
y me tocaba.

And it was at that age... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I do not know, I do not know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I do not know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

- An excerpt from LA POESÍA (Poetry) by Pablo Neruda