Airplanes and Cemeteries

Saturday, your favoritest couple (uy! self love!) decided on a whim to visit the runway. I wanted to go through the airport or the airbase (Gim just told me there’s a difference. Airport is the part where the commercial planes take off, airbase is the part where government air transportation takes off. Ooh. I learn new things everyday!) to get to the runway (which he says is commonly owned by the “people” so it has no name, hmm, is that a valid reason for non-naming something?) but I simply didn’t have enough loose change to pay for a plane ticket (‘coz really, if I just had an extra P7000 or so I definitely would have trudged in for a picture) so we decided to peek through the thorned fence (which marked the boundary) to wait for the planes instead. No planes came and no planes went and we didn’t want to have wasted precious gas (for the trip), so I decided to take a picture of the thorns on the fence. Very pretty, huh? Yeeepp (long drawl), that’s our . So much money gets lost in City Hall (case in point, fixing unbroken roads and water pipes all around the city but not making any new ones where it’s badly needed!) somehow so we call anything that’s old “rustic”. Makes it sound like we intended it to be that way, huh?

Across the road was San Roque Archdiocesan Cemetery. I’d gone there once before, for an RS project back in college. (When I say it like that it seems so long ago! But it’s not. Really.) I think it’s the nicest cemetery in the city, so serene and classic. Even prettier than Forest Lake or other commercial cemeteries. So even though Gim or I didn’t have anybody to visit there, we decided to enter anyway, just to take pictures. And I learned something new. Some of our priests and bishops were buried there! And I thought priests were always buried near their chapels!

And while we’re on the subject, I just wanted to say that when I was a kid I hated to eat the “hostia” or the sacred bread dipped in sacred wine offered during communion. For one, it was a symbol of Jesus’s flesh and wine. Now I was raised a Catholic, studied in a Catholic school and I’m teaching in that same Catholic school. (Not that I’m all that religious anymore, growing up has opened my eyes, now I’m just logical and scientific.) I revered Jesus! Why would I want to eat him??? But I knew it was just a symbol so I wasn’t that worried. The thing was, I believed, really believed, that the bread and wine we were eating were actually the flesh and blood of our dead priests!!! Morbid, huh? I think I thought that way ‘coz we were always told that our priests were symbols for Jesus. So if the bread and wine were symbols for Jesus’ flesh and blood, theeeennnn… You get my point.

Gim and I tarried for quite a while in the cemetery. There were lots of trees and benches so even though it was sweltering hot, we had some shade. Sometime during our contemplation Gim told me to look up. I lifted my face, hoping for a kiss (he hasn’t given me one on my lips since April coz in May he had a cold and I wouldn’t let him touch me, but that didn’t seem to help, oh and those few stolen ones did the trick I guess ‘coz I got infected in the middle of June and I’m still sniffling!) but alas he was fearful of my phlegm; so he was, in fact, just telling me to look up ‘coz the plane we were waiting for was now up in the air. It was a fast one and I only got one shot. But I think it’s perfect, don’t you? :)