**As published in Sunstar:
http://www.sunstar.com.ph/baguio/opinion/2013/06/02/brett-pinay-diaries-part-vi-285408
THERE’S this long strip of a park right in the middle of two main roads that comes fully alive once the city dusk settles. It’s conveniently situated in front of the building I reside in hence I do my evening jogs here when my lazy bones are not into their indulgence mode.
It’s not much of a park. Some generous patches of grass, a few benches here and there and the seasonal flowers that strive to thrive in the midst of two busy intersecting highways. I like doing my runs here. The people who also frequent this place could not care less if I storm by like a flash (I wish!) or just jog-walk leisurely like I have all the time to spare. The same way that it’s none of my business whatever it is these numerous park-goers do here.
http://www.sunstar.com.ph/baguio/opinion/2013/06/02/brett-pinay-diaries-part-vi-285408
THERE’S this long strip of a park right in the middle of two main roads that comes fully alive once the city dusk settles. It’s conveniently situated in front of the building I reside in hence I do my evening jogs here when my lazy bones are not into their indulgence mode.
It’s not much of a park. Some generous patches of grass, a few benches here and there and the seasonal flowers that strive to thrive in the midst of two busy intersecting highways. I like doing my runs here. The people who also frequent this place could not care less if I storm by like a flash (I wish!) or just jog-walk leisurely like I have all the time to spare. The same way that it’s none of my business whatever it is these numerous park-goers do here.
It’s interesting how so much diversity can unintentionally happen in one place. You get to see individuals of various nationalities languidly passing off twilight till midnight doing the most humdrum but relaxing things after a long day’s work. You see a group of Pakistanis squatting on the grass with a cool beverage in their midst, a refreshment for the desert city’s sweltering heat. Then there are the Indians comfortable on the benches, some chatting, some busy with their handheld gadgets. You also see local families with their baby prams, pushing through the paved pathway that’s crowded with Asian, Middle-Eastern and Western joggers, walkers, gawkers, and dillydallyers alike. If I were a painter or a photographer, I think there are lots of interesting subjects to capture in this place. Kids playing football, making do with the sparse area they could occupy. Grown men having badminton mini-tournaments, using their footwear to indicate imaginary lines. Couples dreamy with their stolen moments, students studying on the grass peering through the pages of their books with what dim light the park lampposts can afford, and even a number of part-timers who aggressively sell phone credits as you pass by them. I can only describe so much. But that’s more or less the picture.
I have what I call a me-moment; that part of the day when you can devote that precious sparse time being unstrung and unoccupied. You devote this special time by either being lost in your own thoughts and in your own world or by sharing it with someone else. I think this period of the evening in this tiny belt of a park is the avenue for these respective ‘me-moments’ that all these other people are eager for. They are a lot like me in this aspect. Individuals who are away from home who came here with hopes of doing better in the illusory greener pasture and are hungry for a respite from the day’s toxicity.
This little strip of a park is special. It doesn’t even span a mile but it fuses numerous nationalities, cultures, varying interests and racial conglomeration that are all reduced to a common appreciation of modest personal moments after a long day’s work. It’s a venue for recluse, for feeling the normalcy of life, the simplicity of things and the slightest pleasures beside the stresses, responsibilities and homesickness. It’s a bit of home.
I have what I call a me-moment; that part of the day when you can devote that precious sparse time being unstrung and unoccupied. You devote this special time by either being lost in your own thoughts and in your own world or by sharing it with someone else. I think this period of the evening in this tiny belt of a park is the avenue for these respective ‘me-moments’ that all these other people are eager for. They are a lot like me in this aspect. Individuals who are away from home who came here with hopes of doing better in the illusory greener pasture and are hungry for a respite from the day’s toxicity.
This little strip of a park is special. It doesn’t even span a mile but it fuses numerous nationalities, cultures, varying interests and racial conglomeration that are all reduced to a common appreciation of modest personal moments after a long day’s work. It’s a venue for recluse, for feeling the normalcy of life, the simplicity of things and the slightest pleasures beside the stresses, responsibilities and homesickness. It’s a bit of home.