Pandoraspace

Before the workshop, I could not find much information about Jawahar Bangera. I only knew that he was a senior teacher of Iyengar Yoga in Mumbai, India and that he had trained Rina and some of the other teachers of the Iyengar Yoga Center Manila (IYCM). From Alya, I also heard that Jawahar was a tough no-nonsense teacher but one who was compassionate nevertheless.

I learned that IYCM was sponsoring a workshop by Jawahar sometime in July, and at that point, decided that I was going to attend all seven days of the workshop. Unfortunately, I got very busy and was not even able to cram for this workshop. In fact, I only paid the fees on the first day of the workshop as I was uncertain whether I would actually be able to attend.

So, unlike Faeq Biria’s classes, I am totally unprepared for this workshop with Jawahar.

I was rather peeved when I saw this picture posted on my sister’s blog. This was a photo taken by my beloved grandfather of the Baguio Day parade sometime in the late 1940s or early 1950s. The first thing that came to mind when I saw it was why my sister was given a copy of this photo while I was not. Anyway, I am sure there is a perfectly good explanation for this. But, being me, my knee jerk reaction is – THIS IS UNFAIR, MOM!

Having gotten over my short outburst of temper, I am extremely pleased to post this picture on my blog (albeit belatedly) as it gives me yet another opportunity to write about Baguio and its people.

On 1 September 1909, Baguio became a chartered city. Each year thereafter, the people of Baguio celebrate Baguio Day. I do not know when the Baguio Day parades began, but certainly, Baguio Day was celebrated even during “Liberation” (right after World War II) as evidenced by the photo. In the photo, you see a band marching down Session Road (or at least I think this is Session Road).  Baguio appears to be less cluttered then and it seemed like life was simple.

Last 1 September 2009, Baguio celebrated its 100^th year of “cityhood” and a grand parade was held on that day. It is sad that my grandparents did not live to see the parade on this occasion. I am sure they would have been as delighted as children to be part of the fanfare.  Perhaps they would have also seen many people who they knew.  I would have probably had a great time at any Baguio Day parade but the sad thing is, I do not recall having attended any Baguio Day parade ever. Shocking isn’t it?

While I missed the Baguio Day parade again this year, I console myself by the fact that I have not forgotten what a wonderful place Baguio had been while I was growing up.

Sometimes, specially when we are very busy, we forget who we are. If we are fortunate enough, however, something comes along to remind us about ourselves.

One of my parents’ friend who knew me as a child recently posted a picture of himself, Joe Sage, Bob Stone, my sister and me. This picture was probably taken by my dad. We were in Baguio; in the café owned by Briccio Santos that was in front of SPED, and I was just seven years old.

Although over twenty years had passed since the picture was taken, I vividly remember that afternoon in that café. My parents took my sister and I along as they met with friends. Although the café faced a busy street, the place felt relatively secluded because there were plants that shielded the café from the street. We sat on some tables outside and I remember looking down on the rich red earth and kicking some stones around. I also remember that it was a pleasant afternoon and the sun was out.

We must have been there for hours. At some point (most likely because I was bored), someone (either Joe or Bob) was teaching me how to play the flute. I was extremely frustrated because no sound was coming out of the flute even if I was getting a headache from expelling so much air. It was then that I realized that I had no talent whatsoever for music. This fact still hold true until today.

I do not know why I remembered that day vividly but looking at the picture now reminds me of who I am – the bored child who has no talent for music.  I miss that time in my life when I could spend a whole afternoon in Baguio doing seemingly meaningless things like sit in a cafe, kick stones and hopelessly attempt to play the flute.