street photography

One Week Later

Two weeks ago, I was holed up in my apartment. My skeleton workforce duty was extended to two weeks and I was not assigned any work from home tasks so I was only using my time for my online foreign language course and some readings for the upcoming audit of our office.

I felt like a slug just easing slowly and unproductive, work wise. I kept thinking on managing my time with email management and process approvals for consular work. On a bright side, I just thought that it is somehow good not having been assigned with work from home tasks because I was also able to focus on my readings and do my online foreign language course homework on time.

Come this week where I return for onsite work, it was quite a hectic work week because it was audit season, as I put it. I am part of my agency’s Internal Quality Auditors and I am also a Quality Management System representative of my unit’s core team. So I wear both hats as an auditor and an auditee.

At this point, all this I am sharing is boring and oh so my apologies. Chronicling the end of my work week made me realize some things. These realizations effect were positive in all sense. What I am saying was, yes it was a hectic work week but I was able to go outside of my apartment. It was just this week that has sank in me. I realized from my transfer of transit that my body aches for this experience. My mind, my heart and entire muscle are missing this constant mobility. This work week was not perfect. But manageable enough to make things work for me productively.

My commute experience was the highlight. I challenged myself to take at least one photo a day of my five-day work week. This is an opportunity I accepted and pursued because queueing is an understatement while I took my commute daily. A total of 3 transfer transits were my thing. I spent an average of 40 minutes waiting in line before I can get on a mini bus. The trains were more efficient but still long lines await you towards the end of the week. Around Thursday or Friday during the after-work rush you will be caught in a doom, long lines of passengers eager to go home. Waiting. Standing. Aching feet. Uncomfortable humid platform environment. Just there waiting.

Patience is company.

Eye Spy

This was a random shot while a stream of people in a procession kind of manner flooded the street each with their own “Jesus Christ”. I have taken a couple of shots before retreating inside our veranda and this moment was captured. I understand this portrays the scene of Jesus being helped by Simon of Cyrene. This “Simon of Cyrene” in my photo seemed more than happy to help “Jesus” in carrying his cross. It blew me away as I zoomed out and checked his reaction. His eyes gleaming with a crooked smile. And it wasn’t the kind of reaction I am expecting of him.

It was a Good Friday. A time to relive the passion of Jesus Christ. My hometown preserves this tradition of reenacting His last few hours before He died on the cross—from the moment He carried the cross on His back towards Mt. Calvary.

It becomes one man’s devotion to submit himself to this sacrifice when the observance of Holy Week commences. Vesting a maroon colored robe with a nylon rope tied around the hip is a sight representing himself as Jesus. He is accompanied by lanky boys garb in Roman guards costume with whips and ropes hanging by their side. Their red synthetic leather skirts and vest are adorned with insignia of their fraternity. Sometimes a sigil is also seen with that same insignia. So it appears more of a communal effort, a cooperation of a certain group to stage this reenactment much like doing a play or a street performance.

Maybe he was not oriented of his role or maybe he was just there to help “Jesus” for he cannot bear his cross anymore.


As I sit in front of our reliable desktop computer, in my mind I was trying to form on how will I take this week’s photo challenge. Few hours ago I have already picked the photos from my archive folders while I took a sit-down break from cleaning the kitchen drawers. As I type and compose, I just finished watching a replay of Masterchef USA’s episode and it all dawned on me thinking about the “grid” theme. What about it?


It was a day after the storm. I was standing in our veranda looking at these men, a pair of them was a father and son tandem. I looked like being in a cage because of the chicken wire. It was attached for safety of our household as per request by my mother. Given our house was standing few feet from a rural road so strangers pass by everyday and we don’t know what might happen.

My thinking veered into reconsidering the photos I picked for the challenge. Indeed, I sound challenged but not really. I’m just romanticizing my way of taking this challenge. I’ve never been out and about—yet, since my previous post of temporarily moving away and then finding my way back to my archive folders—with my camera dangling on my neck and shooting at subjects that appeal to me just so I could put on a collection of images I can sift through in the coming challenges.

I’ve been out last week. Quite such a productive week. I helped a mommy friend make a DIY baptismal invitation for her baby. We worked on it for around 2 days but not straight. So to say I was on the grid of creativity last week. In between doing the invitation, I spent one day making my personalized first birthday present for another godson gained from a close mommy friend too. I thought lowly of myself that I wouldn’t be able to do it in just a day but I did. It was a papercut art. I’ve checked Pinterest and Instagram for inspiration and some tutorial and added creative flare. It was the craft art I’ve been wanting to make more so of putting myself into a cocoon of inspiration and creativity. The same thing for wanting to try calligraphy and hand lettering too. It’s just like finding a match with these arts.

I am putting my DIY-er and crafty self on the grid, again.


During my childhood days, soaking and playing under the rain is but limited in the confines of our house. With its high, unfinished wall and two panel steel red gate, I can’t really see what is going on outside, like in this picture. This highway is just in front of our house and I knew there were a lot of children exploring the streets, walking and having fun under the cold rain. DSC07437

I realized now that my parents were just over protective of us not going outside. They were happy to know with their minds’ content that we were nearby at the yard, away from the dangers of being on the streets that they do not know what might happen to us.

Two years ago I took this photo, it was an October afternoon that the rain came pouring hard. Observe how intense the drops of rain as it hit the paved road. It was few meters away before these kids pass by our house and I hurriedly reached for my camera to capture a moment that flash backed on my memory.

That moment full of excitement that I could play under the rain, together with my elder brother we could go showering in the water-spout at the gutter of our rooftop. The splash of water hitting our heads and backs were just pure fun. Stomping our feet to create big splashes as rainwater begin to pool beneath us.

We would also get down on the dirt and mud creating dams to control the flow of the water out to the sewerage. We would use palm fronds and some Popsicle sticks to serve as bridges and dig up the mud to find pebbles or stones to strengthen our mini dams.

Mama’s voice could be heard from the inside, “Go fetch me the pail and dipper and help me save some rainwater to water my potted plants. Go! Now!”, as she orders loudly.

She would always be in bad timing—scratching our heads out of dismay and frustration—asking us when we are about to make some last-minute finishing of our architectural feat made of mud, sticks and stones. My brother and I would tease one another who gets the pail or the dipper first. And the race is on.


Last Thursday night, September 18 was the kind of night that I expected when it is raining cats and dogs. Truly, when it rains, it pours. Underscoring this quote aside from the heavy rainfall our hometown was also engulfed in total darkness. I presumed it was precautionary by the power cooperatives since there were reports of flooding in nearby towns earlier before nighttime succumbed.

My hometown would not be spared really. We are one of the catch basins from rivers and streams runoff and down flow. With nothing to do after taking our dinner I decided to play with my reliable point-and-shoot camera. It was my way of killing boredom if only there was power I could have been couch potatoed watching a Korean Rom-Com series to cap my night off.

Nonetheless, my creative juices kept me alive and so pumped up that moment. At first I was just observing the intensity of rain based on sound as it hit our roof. There was a light wind. A few rustling but no howling. The main highway in front of our house was gradually flooding.

Then I saw these people walking, riding in motorbikes and pedicabs whenever there were buses and cars driving by with their headlights bouncing off on them.

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