memories of a traveling goldfish: April 2012

Last month was a busy geeky month--I presented a paper in a conference on Asian films in Hong Kong and attended a symposium on documentary filmmaking in Selaya, Thailand sponsored by the European Union and the Goethe Institute.

The biggest camera I've seen donated by the Queen's Theater in HK
that closed down decades after it first opened

After the official functions, my most awaited part is the lakwatcha. I thoroughly enjoyed the tour of the Hong Kong Film Archive, where the conference participants also watched one of Bruce Lee's early films, The Orphan (1960).

After the conference, I went to the Hong Kong Arts Centre. I enjoyed this the most in my trip to HK.

Brochures for free

Arts Centre Bookstore

Exhibits on display:

A miniature set used in the short film projected

The artist drew on each of the page of this dictionary
to create the animation as one flips the pages.

real-time photo developing machine

sound magnet

my delayed reflection

Shoot your own film

The symposium on documentary filmmaking was held at the Thai Film Archive, where I got to watch a documentary film from Indonesia about the Bali bombers. I watched it with an Indonesian participant and discussed it with her. The inside stories she shared to me add more to my understanding of the situation and the film.

My favorite part of the trip is the tour of the Thai Film Museum. It was my first time to visit one. Thais are really good with museums, making them interactive for the visitors to enjoy. I've visited their national museum years before and my friends and I had so much fun there while learning about the Thailand's history and heritage.

The Thai Film Archive

The film museum, although small, contains film memorabilia that span decades of filmmaking in Thailand. It contains actual props used in movie sets, Apichatpong's scripts (he has a corner in that small film museum), old film cameras (as in, big old cameras), and even ashes of a film that was censored.

actual clappers used

These pamphlets were distributed to the audience before entering the movie house.
They serve as guide to the plot, dialogue, etc.

old old projector

Ashes of the censored film

What I enjoyed the most was the screening of a short film documenting the King attending a public event. It was projected using an old-school projector where the projectionist manually spins it at a certain speed so that the pictures move. The sound the projection makes transports me to the early days of cinema. How I wished the first cinema in Escolta was preserved to house a Philippine Film Museum.

our guide and the gang

A very famous Thai actor

Memorabilia from a Thai animator

An actual set from an actual Thai film. Audience can watch in the set while filming

Apichatpong's corner. The iconic character from his film Uncle Boonmee

Apichatpong's actual shooting script

The Box Office

Movie house owner's office
Because filmmaking is a business

Just a few weeks ago, I went to Cebu to visit a local film archive owned by a foreigner: the Tioseco-Bohinc Film Archive. I would be writing a paper on this to be presented in a conference in Singapore in June. At the moment, the collection is in the owner's house, but he hopes that it will be housed soon in a proper venue in Cebu City. His 16mm collection of classic films were already transferred to the University of San Carlos, where he teaches, in an "on loan" basis.

DVD and Book Collections at the Tioseco-Bohinc Film Archive

The owner and I

16mm collection, including Citizen Kane

Book collection includes early Cahiers du Cinema articles
written by the French New Wave directors

Seconds away from crossing the finish line

Exactly a month ago I ran my first marathon, a full 42.195 km. It’s like riding the LRT line 1 almost thrice over, or going to Alabang from Los Baños--on foot. When I tell my friends about my running a marathon, they are wowed and, being my true true friends, they’d tell me I’m crazy. I now believe them. But crazy is good, most of the times. I get to push my limits until this word does not exist anymore in my system, and this, I think, is what my marathon experience was all about. It made me believe that everything is possible when the mind believes so and when you act on it.

It’s really difficult to summarize what I experienced that day, and I actually postponed writing about it deliberately to let the experience sink in. As the days go on, however, I find it difficult to push the pen into the paper because I could not find the words that would best express this unbelievably surreal experience.

So how do I make sense of my running 42.195 km in 6 hours and 47 minutes? Here are a few things I learned:

1. I am loved. I had a whole cheering squad with me led by a person closest to my cardiac muscle--En, who was there with me before the gun start until I finish almost seven hours after. He was there to make sure I cross that darn finish line (and have photos as proof!) and receive a sweaty hug from me.

(L-R) Ai, Kitch, Jaja, me and Cid.
Look at those "I am with a marathoner" shirts!

The En and I
(what's wrong with my right foot? It's in lurv.)

My friend Kitch and former students Jaja and Cid were also there from start to finish, sacrificing one night of good sleep. They even made a shirt for me and for the cheerers. Ai arrived in the morning just in time to see me cross the finish line. Also there were my cousins, my mother (whom I did not expect to come) and my nephew, who at Km 40 was calling my name at the top of his little lungs, giving me a second wind.

Marathoner shirt.
Thanks Ja and Cid!

Not to forget of course the Dream Chasers all throughout the route who gave me gummy bears, chips, chocolates, ice and gave me the needed boost through their energetic cheers and gimmicks. One station had balloons to welcome runners, while another near the finish line set up a vanity station where runners can look at the mirror and see if they look decent enough for their photos when they cross the finish line.

A big thanks also to Coach Jim Lafferty, who was riding on his motorcycle yelling some encouraging words for runners, and another man, whom I think is also a coach and one of the organizers. I’m so sorry for not knowing his name since I was not able to attend any bull sessions. I was running on an uphill and stopped to walk--no, not because I gave up but because it’s already time to walk following my 4:1 pace. He passed by me and probably noticed my sudden stop. He gave me advice on how to run again while in an uphill, or something like that. It’s a wonder how such small talk helped a lot in giving me confidence to finish the race.

2. Running is Zen and sometimes, surreal. It may be a competitive sport but for me it has always been a form of meditation. Despite the fatigue, the rhythmic movement of my arms and legs in tune with my breathing calms my body and spirit.

I experienced it best somewhere near Km 8. It was still dark since the race started at 2am. The moon was out but there were clouds threatening to cover it. I saw cows in the hilly road side, one standing and another lying down but both are very still looking at the moon. I stared at them for a while and then looked at the moon again. The clouds had already covered it, and the cows were just there looking at it disappear in the dawn sky.

I find this episode really surreal and enchanting yet very calming. It was as if the cows had this ritual of seeing the moon set to give way to the sun. It was as if they understood everything in the cosmos, including its randomness. For me it was one of the things I’ll remember most and tell my friends about during the race.

3. Mind over matter. It works. At 10 km, I was already hungry. I did not have any gels with me simply because I don’t like them, and I did not have a hydration belt where I could have snuck in chocolates or energy bar simply because it’s expensive. I had been running for more than an hour (I know, I’m a slow runner) and I badly wanted to eat a banana. Remembering the race map, I know that at 16km, there would be a Key Station where I can get food. When I got to the station, nothing was there. I think I saw some boxes, but there were no people manning the booth.

Hoarding bananas
cause I don't wanna get hungry again!

I continued to run hungry since I can’t do anything about it. I just thought that I could meet En in the first turnaround, which is more or less 5km away, and get bananas from him. To quell my hunger, I drank more Gatorade than water. I thought the sugar can do for the meantime. When I reached the turnaround, I did not see any familiar face. The turnaround was not the start/finish line, where En and my friends were waiting. So there I was, running hungry from km 10 to km 25. All the time, I was fighting my hunger pangs in my mind--and I won.

When I finally saw bananas in one station, I ate and took two for the road. I ran the rest of the route with bananas in my hands (turn your green mind off, you). I made sure I’d never get hungry again during the race!

4. Training pays off. One achievement I consider in running the Dream Marathon, aside from finishing it, is running all the uphill. Several weeks before the race day, I joined a 10km run in Los Baños. I thought it would be easy since I already had long runs in my training prior the race. Talk about underestimating. The route was so difficult! The inclines were really crazy hell. Every time I would see an uphill, I would walk--no, drag myself. I was traumatized.

After that fun run, I trained hard in all the uphill in Mt. Makiling. I ran where the “elite” runners in Los Baños run. I was determined to not let uphill beat me.

Came race day I told myself the trauma was over. It’s a good thing that the uphill during the race was less crazy hell than those in Los Baños. Even in the last kilometers of the race, I was still running the uphill and I was uberhappy and proud of that.

5. Success is pure joy when it is shared. At the 42km marker where runners make a right turn towards the finish line, things were getting a little crazy surreal for me. Did I just run 42 km? I started to hear faintly the cheers of those waiting in the finish line, and I could see a crowd gathered there; a crowd was also on the sides leading to the finish line, including dream chasers and new marathoners.

A few meters away I saw Man, a friend from LB who also ran the marathon, and hugged him. He finished ahead of me. A few more meters I saw my cousins gathered together, and they were surprised when I called them because they said they did not recognize me. They did not see me before the race so they did not know what I had on.

A few meters from them, the finish line.

Crossing the finish line wearing the singlet in my first fun (trail) run
in LB two years ago

A medal at last!

A few steps (as in two steps) away from the finish line are my cheerleaders.

Everything went crazy inside me when I crossed the finish line. So crazy that I was forgot to take a photo with the Bull Runner herself and to do the pose I imagined I’d have when I crossed the finish line. It was just all reflex when I lifted both my arms in surrender. I felt relieved, yet I felt I still had too much excess energy left in my body that I can run a few more kilometers (ultramarathon? why not?!). My thoughts had gone haywire.

The (Sweaty and Smelly) Hug
Thanks Ai for the pic!

But not for long since after two steps after I became a marathoner, my friends greeted me and--my favorite part--En and I, all sweaty and smelly, hugged. He and my friends were so happy to see me cross the finish line all intact and free from any injury. And it was pure joy for me to share this moment with them.