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To Market To Market to buy…

For many, a trip to Baguio would never be complete without a visit to the market.  Tourists flock to the market to buy local produce to take home with them.  I too feel that a trip to Baguio would never be complete without a visit to the market.  Unlike tourists, however, my purposes is no just to buy the local produce, but also, to visit old friends and be reminded of my childhood.

When I was a child, my grandmother and mother would take me with them to the Baguio market to buy meat, fish, vegetables, fruits and coffee from their vendor-friends.  When I got older, I would  go to the market on my own to buy things from the same vendor-friends.  Those friends have seen me become what I am today and  are  privy to my  many childhood antics.

Nowadays, when I see those vendor-friends, they would remind me of how I was as a child.  For example, as soon as the ladies at the fish and seafood section would see me, they would remind me that when I was a child, I would always pinch my nose upon entering that section of the market.  Some vegetable vendors would also remind me about  the time I got lost in the market and was later found in the police outpost.  Of course, my mother gets uneasy when she hears this because she was the one who lost me in the market.  Loosing me in the market was more traumatic for her that it was for me.  Then, there is Ray, the guy who owns a meat stall in the market where we get the yummy de recado longganisa (garlic sausages).  My mom updates him on the goings on in my life like when I graduated, when I moved to Manila and I suspect even about my love life.

Apart from visiting friends and being reminded of my childhood, I have always loved the Baguio market.  It has never ceased to stimulate my senses.     (more…)

The Dreaded Bus Rides to and from Baguio

Recently, my family went to Baguio without me as I was tied up at work. At the last minute, I managed to get some free time and I decided to go to Baguio. To my utter dismay, I discovered that no airline flies to Baguio anymore. For some reason, I could not also get anyone to drive me up to Baguio. I had no choice but to take the bus. “What a nightmare!” was the first thought that came into my mind. Followed by doubts about whether I should travel to Baguio. Since I really wanted to go to Baguio, I decided to take the dreaded bus ride.

I dread bus rides to and from Baguio because, on 9 out of 10 times I take the bus, I get dizzy and throw up in Kennon Road or Naguilian.  The bus rides where I am sure to get dizzy and puke are on those buses with pine tree air-fresheners. The smell of those air-fresheners combined with the almost roller-coaster like movement of the bus means only one thing for me – VOMITSVILLE. (more…)