Stainless: 1. Perspective

This is something that's surely occurred to me before, in my previous trips to the Philippines, but I'm only noticing this now. It has something to do with perspective. It's like this. Guam, in sheer size and area, is much smaller than the Philippines--I think it is smaller then even just Luzon, the northern island--but in some way it doesn't feel smaller. I look around in Guam and I always see green and blue--the plants and the sky. I am always cognizant of the space not just in my vicinity at the moment, but of other vicinities. When I drive to work and go on the Route 16 overpass, I see Micronesia Mall from far away, and the ocean and the hotels beyond that. When I go to Kmart, I see not just Kmart but the jungles around Kmart and the cliffline upon which Chalan Pasaheru, Route 10A, was built. When I go to the beach in Tumon, not only do I see the hotels lining the beach view, but also Tanguisson and Two Lovers' Point, from miles away.

The same is not the case in Manila. You take the jeepney to Lawton, and all you see are the other sweaty faces riding with you on that jeepney. Try to peer outside the jeepney's open windows, and what you'll see are the facades of houses, businesses, and the people inhabiting the street right at that moment. You walk the street to RFC, and all you see is the street. Unless you're right at Real Street, you won't see that Jollibee or McDonald's that you know is just a minute's walk away, and even if you did, chances are you're looking at the large signs these businesses had to erect in order to compete with all the other signs all around them. In other words, you can't see Espana from Lawton, and you can't see E. Rodriguez from Espana.

Now, am I saying that this is a bad thing? On one hand, I do fear that the military buildup that is being planned for Guam may have the effect of "closing in" our vistas so that our perspectives cease to be open. Already I observe that once those four towers at Oka are built, they will be an inescapable sight for miles around, even as you're going towards the intersection between Routes 1 and 10A on that final stretch of road near Kmart. Now guess what you will see when you are standing at the Hospital parking lot, near the towers. That's right, the towers. Just the towers. Even since before the towers were built, you couldn't see the ocean from the GMH parking lot anyway, even if you tried, but now, with the towers in the way, you wouldn't even consider the possibility.

But perhaps this "closed-ness" that makes the very messy but functional public transport system in Metro Manila possible. Because the only landmarks available to them are the ones in their immediate vicinity, Filipino commuters soon learn to recognize them even within the confines of a jeepney where you have to hang down your head to see out the window. Perhaps they do not see their daily commute as a two-dimensional map, but rather as a linear ordering of landmarks that they consult as they ride the tricycles, jeepneys, and buses in their route. Because their vistas are closed, every intersection comes to look different. I think back to the time I dropped off a friend in Liguan Terrace. I dropped her off all right, but it took me 30 minutes of driving around to realize how to get back out to Marine Corps Drive. Why? The houses all looked the same at night, and the only landmarks I could find were faraway ones, in this case the tall trees that grow from some of the houses. Since the trees were far away, they look similar even when viewed from entirely different intersections.

I decided that an amorphous, market-driven public transport system would not take off in Guam, simply because of our lack of immediate (as opposed to large and faraway) landmarks. I'm pretty sure you've heard of Bear Rock, but what about Pacific Plaza? Would you be confident in getting dropped off at Pacific Plaza if you knew that there was another place called Pacific Place? (There is, by the way.) What about Baltej Pavilion? Sounds familiar, right? But where is it, and how could I use this information to get where I want to go?

This is when I realized that the tension between open vistas and closed vistas is a tension between the picturesque and the efficient. In fact, I did not set out to write this post the way you are reading it; I was supposed to say something about how Filipinos compensate for this lack of perspective with open minds. But that seems rather New-Agey and quite like that bit about the white woman Margaret Mead telling the Pacific Islanders from the outlying islands what they are really like in her book when really, in the opinion of the islanders, she really doesn't know what she's talking about.

So I am glad I instead talked about public transportation, as this is a topic that engages both my political and mathematical proclivities. For many reasons, Guam will greatly benefit from a public transport system. But how will it be accomplished? Perhaps this talk about getting the commuter thinking about his or her route as a series of landmarks in closed vistas might help quite a bit.

Thoughts?

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Hayley Williams, B.O.B., and Eminem, "Airplanes".

Synesthete

I'm thrilled to find out today that Marian McPartland is still alive. In recent weeks I've realized what I really enjoyed about her show on NPR: she and her guests kind of play off of each other in a way that makes me think neither of them expect the gloriousness of the sound that they produce. Since Marian can bounce off any style she hears, and her guests represent so many diverse jazz styles, there really is no telling what you're going to hear every show, except that it's probably going to be talking and excellent jazz.

Now I don't think I would ever get to play with Marian: a) I'm not a jazz pianist and I don't think I ever will be, and b) I don't think she'll be alive long enough to wait for me to make it big. But that's not going to be a problem for her; her immortality is almost more than ensured.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Black Eyed Peas, "Boom Boom Pow".

Heard it in a song

Tonight I finished writing a song that was in my head all week. When I realized that this was the case, I turned my car radio back on. You see, during the time that I am composing or writing a song I try not to listen to the radio or any kind of music so that I can hear the music in my head a bit more clearly.

Anyway, that got me thinking about all the things I did and the decisions I made based on what certain songs said. When I started to get really close to someone we'll call Prairie Dawn for now, that was when that song by Jason Mraz, "I'm Yours", was gaining traction in the radio. (This was the version that had a more stripped down, percussion-less arrangement and not the one in We Sing, We Dance, We Steal Things.) One of the lines in that song went

I won't hesitate, no more, no more
It cannot wait, I'm sure
There's no need to complicate, our time is short
This is our fate, I'm yours.

I credit these lines for inspiring (if not dictating) my course of action towards P.D., which of course led me to going to the Philippines with her and two of our other friends and the subsequent birth of imo.

Has anyone else had the experience where some lines of a song inspired a decision or some subsequent behavior? Now it may turn out that I'm the only one susceptible to this, and that this is a non-question and should be dropped. I'd be fine with that. But if it happened more often, why does it happen at all?

As I reflected on it, it dawned on me that song lyrics gain power through the order in their composition. (See my previous post for more about order.) Maybe we're more likely to believe song lyrics because song lyrics are usually orderly in some way, and since the universe is also orderly, maybe an orderly song lyric closely describes the workings of the universe. And what, pray tell, makes song lyrics orderly? Well, rhyme, rhythm, the notes you sing those words on, any number or combination of those things.

Could it be that I broke my leg ice skating with a girl and brought to mind a new musical genre simply because of the words to a good Jason Mraz song? That'd be life imitating art, wouldn't it?

And who said that was wrong, anyway?

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Nickelback, "If Everyone Cared".

P.S. Here's another instance of life imitating art. I was driving Sexualspam around one night, when he suddenly called my attention to a scene playing out in front of a house whose corner we were rounding. In the moonlight, he saw some young punk and a girl, and the punk jumped over the gate, unlocked it, and let the girl in.

He jubilantly growled, "I just saw 'Hands Down' with my own two eyes!":

The streets were wet, and the gate was locked
So i jumped in and let you in
And you stood at your door with your hands on my waist
And you kissed me like you meant it

Walking backwards

Now I know what it's like to be carless.

It's quiet... too quiet.

Today what woke me up was the "Gimme Gimme" ringtone I had in my phone (which, as I am reflecting on it now, I was quite fortunate to set to "ring" last night). Had the phone stayed "silent" that time, I would have missed work. And of course, that would have been disastrous.

Now, this was not what I was planning on writing about, but the more I reflect on that simple action of setting my cell phone to "ring" last night, the more amazed I was about the "butterfly effect" I am observing wround it. Had I not been awakened by that phone call, I would certainly have come late to work, which would have been completely my fault. I would have been censured... heck, I think that once word had got to my boss of such a thing happening I would have been fired on the spot. I wouldn't be writing on the blog today; instead I would have answered a few emails a bit more enthusiastically, and I would have gone to sleep worried about where I would get one more semester's worth of tuition from.

But the action that prevented all that--my setting my phone to "ring"--was comparably insignificant. It was very much an afterthought. I mean, when I went to bed last night I knew I had to be at work at a certain time, but I was confident that I would wake up on time. Now that I reflect upon it, I did not have a conscious reason to set my phone to "ring". I was thinking to myself, "Hey, wouldn't it be cool to hear someone text me in the morning?"

It leads me to an observation: small actions can have big effects. Now, this is something you (and most certainly I) already know, but never before has it been demonstrated for me with such force.

So pay attention. Is that the lesson here?

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Jim Brickman, "Destiny".

P.S. Actually, the title refers to an observation my coworker made about the Plantation. It is very quiet here. In fact, the point was driven home for me this morning as well. I woke up to the cell phone ringtone, and when I got off the phone, realizing that I had to leave the house now, without any hesitation, I realized how quiet it was.

There was nothing to be heard other than my thoughts.

Silence is a double-edged sword.

Seventeen syllables, No. 65

Artificially
Quick winds blow my hair when I
Roll my windows down.

Seventeen syllables, No. 55

In a speeding truck,
The cool, fenced jungle night scent
Is just one breath long.

Speed test

Sometimes, it's not the speed at which you get things done; it's the actual things themselves that you get done. Today is a classic example of such an axiom: out of the six things I wanted to do today in terms of "errands", I was only able to do 3. Poor planning contributed to the noncompletion of the other three. All I can say is, I have my work cut out for me if I want to succeed in reorganizing.

In better news, it looks like a good semester, and the wind comes into my Plantation bedroom with the crisp coldness that it always greets me with. I don't know how much power consumption I now save by not running my airconditioner (I have lost count, having done it for almost a year now), but I have to say that it's one of the first lifestyle changes I was successful in doing. Now my airconditioner is on as an exception, not as a rule.

I almost cannot wait for the semester to begin. Almost. ^_^

I heard from my Chinese penpal today, via email. I was happy about that, but it entailed poring over the online Chinese Dictionary in order to decode much of what she said. Or maybe that's a good thing? ^_^ All I know is, I'm getting rusty at this! I'll need to practice more.

OK, that's it for me. 謝謝你閱我的網誌!

Song in my head: Yes, "Owner of a Lonely Heart". Now this one really was in my head all weekend!

And before I forget, I'd like to invite you to take a speed test of your own, which was the inspiration for the title, anyway. Are you really getting broadband throughput rates? (No, it's not a scam... ^_^)

Seventeen syllables, No. 39

The house is on fire--
And Santa and the reindeer
Dance upon the flames.

Seventeen syllables, No. 36

Through the window the
Deep blue skies flash: Night--day--night--
Day--night. Then thunder.

Seventeen syllables, No. 26

I can see where the
Car went airborne from where the
Railings were crumpled.

Seventeen syllables, No. 17

"Hey green car, you must
Stop behind the red stop sign!"
Blue lights swim through rain.

Looks like my Spring haiku are done... now on to Summer.

Seventeen syllables, No. 15

The passenger seat
Is always occupied by
My friends yesterday.

Seventeen syllables, No. 7

One black slipper lies
Along the road, Sun-crackled,
Stepping towards shade.

--From an inspiration from Kim.

Laughing all the way

What was I doing at 4:20 at 4/20? I was driving.

Song in my head: The Pillows, "Sha-la-la-la".

P.S. OK, more things happened yesterday, but to make it clear, I didn't participate in the festivities. ^_^

Golden hour

I drove down Airport Road yesterday at about a quarter past six in the evening. Since Spring is now with us, the Sun was still peeking through some clouds, not content to leave the show just yet. What I saw was spectacular--the Sun shimmered on everything it could get its rays on. Everything from the coconut tree fronds swaying in a lazy wind, to the buildings that consequently looked like they were all made of gold, shone in the Sunlight. It was Guam's Golden Hour--and I saw it in the fifteen-minute drive from the Plantation to the Vestibule.

What a coincidence. Had I delayed in getting ready that afternoon, or otherwise not done any of the chores I accomplished that day, I would have missed the very narrow window for the Golden Hour. My day must have been progressing the way it was supposed to.

And I wonder how many of my fellow motorists noticed. Maybe they were too busy driving. But then again, so was I.

Thanks for reading, and Happy Easter, everyone. And welcome back, Kim.

Song in my head: Shamrock, "Paano", originally by the APO Hiking Society.