The morning mist filled the Montana with fog that seemed surreal, a landscape of clouds as if I was floating in the sky. White and cotton-like, it enveloped the whole Plantacion and the visibility is zero. I took my cup of brewed coffee from the kitchen of my farmhouse and went to the extended pavillion overlooking the river. I felt the December coldness, and I covered myself with thick blanket over a comforter last night.
Which one of us doesn’t get nostalgic around Christmas time? Personally I slip into ‘fantasy mode’ as the aroma of season is floating in the air with Christmas songs, carolers stroll around villages and parols hanging on windows.
Enveloped in festive fervour my mind reminded to my last Christmas holiday in the misty cold Plantacion Montana Fuentes.
From Manila International Airport I took a transfer airport vehicle bringing me to a domestic flight to Pagadian, a good one week before Christmas. My idyllic rural life is my bucolic sense of therapy away from the metropolitan chaos and strenuous city life. High spirited, took me to an hour and fifteen minutes to reach Pagadian and my flight was smooth as silk. It was quietly my rejuvenation and relished while I inhaled the unmistakably native air as I beeline on luggage check out counter.
Mark Sebastianne my 5 year old son was waiting eagerly outside the airport building so as my nephews and other family members. The traffic ouside was minimal, a very sign that at last I reached my distination. A quick drop at Jolibee for lunch made my baby smiling all- over, knowingly it is his favorite restaurant. I felt short of a fake Bohemian Zamboanga style with cornucopia of my Louie Vuitton mixed Hermes scarf and juggling my Hermes bag that I brought along my la provence holiday.
I marveled as I watched orders of French fries,burgers and chicken joys strucked down on our long table. I can’t still believe I smelt a lifestyle change from my Gothic environment and fashion playgrounds abroad to this unbelievable sway of change, de rigueur 360 degrees.
But see, the spirit of a holiday is that of an intrepid backpacker is definitely not me…realizing that, it’s like waves of nearby sea, accepting and consuming. It doesn’t repudiate the wannabes, the unsophisticated that the ‘real vibe’ imbibers say is corroding my destination. Sipping an orange juice, I prepared myself to leave behind chauffeured stretched limousine and jump into my military typed mountain jeep in top-down like going to a Rambo.
If you are a Carrie Bradshaw-like cocktail chaser, follow what I call ‘Pagadian’s Beverly Hills – a trail that begins from the downtown Avenue up to the top of the Hiker’s Plaza, dotting the main road with beer joints and cafes.
For those seeking an aventurous nights, Django’s is your hotspot, bling-bling young crowd meets jungle Janes and cute Romeos.
Now if these places neither suit you, then ask some snotty boys to go far down to a quirky check and meet Tony near the pier for some barbecues and balot.
As I fill my lungs with the moist Yllana Bay sea, I concur that nightlife in Pagadian is an assault to the senses and the peculiar flavor of the city’s fascinating attempt to uplift itself to quality nightlife. Discerning tastes must be adjusted and slip into the flow as a veteran night owl told me, “Either you get it or you don’t”….there’s no middle ground. So if you are toeing to classic, jazz and other bars to fit your chic/hip bars make a graceful exit and go to Plaza Luz and listen to Opera music that compliment the dancing fountain.
Summer is almost over and the "BER" months near, glittering events and parties are promising, but how about your social nightmares, like meeting someone you intently avoid up close and personal? should you apply vanishing creams on your skin...or prick yourself feeling like a balloon and hope to burst and disappear on thin air?
Conversations, even apologies for it, are supposed to follow greetings in social gatherings -- whether they are in the form of Hi, How-are-you-I-am-fine, Great-to-see-you, or even those bisou-bisou moments.
Increasingly, however, here, it was a face-off between avoiding or pretending they don't exists, kind of thing. But this time a stand-off for an eternally long two minutes, during which the two of you silently deliberated on whether to kiss or not to kiss.
The awkward moment passed .... no bisous, not even a half-knowing plastic smile and then continued pirouetting and gliding like swans on the lake...but in two different directions!!!!
Is there, I wonder, a silent shift of tectonic plates taking place under the edifice of social etiquette? or perhaps, the snobs are a bit in retreat from their obeisance to the fashion rules of social intercourse. Come to think of it those whose ascension to the paradise of the chosen ones has already taken place are horrified by the fact that kiss and made up doesn't happened overnight. Egos, egos and egos, wearing dark shades of Tom Ford and feeling like either Anna Wintour or Stevie Wonder...in distress...and yes do pout or exercise the stiff- upper-lip moments.
Ah yes, apropos the-paradise-on-earth for the wannabes: To find a place amongst the chosen in our times, you need an entrée into the inner sanctums of parties and events in venues and areas discreetly cordoned off.
A nodding acquaintance with somebody who knows somebody who is friends with somebody who knows somebody who is part of your inner circle of friends; who has had breakfast in Bangkok, lunch in Hongkong and relaxing in Singapore...oh lalala......
Interestingly, while the ‘muahh-muahh’ may disappear, but the competitive banters sunk in, about their vacations, new Chanels and LV's..and even their acquisitions of personal dieticians, personal therapist and personal psychic masters!
Perhaps, it’s time we turned in our social life for meaningful friends and conversations –conversations without agendas, deep and meaningful conversations are happier than those who generally unfashionably talk about nonsense in style and trends.
And then there’s always your analysis. But, that’s only one point of view....one direction. Build your own parties and invite your collective butterflies to massage your ego.
