At last, after a couple of failed attempts and many unrealized plans, the family finally saw the insides of the famed People’s Park at the center of Davao City. The failed attempts had to do with our failure to take note of the park’s schedule, which is 5-8 AM and 1-10PM. These are periods one would not likely see us in the downtown area.
This time, the plan was to go to church at 7-8AM and play at the park afterwards. We almost completely missed it when we arrived five minutes before closing, again only taking our chances and not knowing what the schedule was. When we realized that it was already closing time, my wife and the baby in her arms got off the car in front of the gate and inquired. To everybody’s delight, the “park rangers” led us in and even allowed us to park inside the parking area reserved for officials.
Here’s a slideshow of our short but enjoyable stay inside the People’s Park.
It needs to be mentioned that developing a park at the heart of the City is laudable. Considering that this was not in the original set-up (the area was an open, poorly maintained athletic field, more bare soil than turf) like most towns/cities in the country where parks are negligible, almost bereft of trees and poorly maintained. Also, the area is prime location, near commercial establishments and tourist spots of the traditional center of the City. Concerts and other shows had been staged and regular events such as early weekend morning aerobics classes are open to the public.
There’s much to admire about the concept and the intention of providing for recreational and cultural services to the people…contributing to the livability of the City.
In the past Halloween seasons, our family sees to it that we spend time together doing activities that we can only do during vacations and holidays because my wife and I were then starting our respective careers in the industry. ‘Tis the time for movie/tv series marathons, beach frolics and park/mall hangouts. The most Halloween participation we had was to prepare goodies for neighbor trick-or-treaters.
Because of many invitations from their classmates this season, the whole family (except for the baby) got a taste of this popular western tradition. It’s our kids’ first time to have fun with scary creatures and another chance to confront issues about death and afterlife in not so serious way. My two eldest kids had known the concept of death when their puppy died in a road accident a few years ago, followed by the death of their grandmother about a month later.
For most of the younger trick-or-treaters, it was just a costume party involving many houses with scary decors, and then getting candies just for showing up. Sweating it out at the village’s playground with friends afterwards seemed to erase the creepiness of the whole ritual.
The movies my older kids watched in separate occasions had more impact than the scary decors they saw. My daughter and her friends specifically asked not to have a bad dream in their prayers before hitting the sack during their sleepover. My son was not satisfied with a prayer, and insisted on sleeping in our bed last night. Twice I attempted to transfer him to his room and twice he came back.
In my time, my family did not have this Halloween tradition and I grew up eventually liking horror flicks regardless of the season. What’s my take on this tradition? Making the idea of death fun might help children deal with it better when it occurs in the family. Uhmm…maybe. But at the very least, for me it’s a social event that promotes community spirit and interaction among neighbors and friends, which should be encouraged as many now prefers to spend more time online to the detriment of the good ‘ol days of good-neighborliness.
Today is another Sunday and I am reminded of the first Sunday of this month when my family deviated from our Sunday routine. Just like what happened in my blog the previous Sunday when we attended mass in a new church, we went to the Cathedral instead of the usual chapel inside the village.
It was quite a big deal for me because it was my father’s insistence on having his haircut that morning that led us to the Cathedral at the heart of the city. A haircut when in fact he just had it a couple of weeks ago and his white hair had not grown that much anyway (well at least in my opinion).
My father had been living with us for a few months now ever since he suffered an asthma attack. An earlier mild stroke that left him limping on his right leg did not force him to change the routine he had for years. He was resolute in living alone in his house at the center of the city to enjoy all the freedom he’s been accustomed to.
It all changed one morning as he went about supervising a small project at the third floor of his property. According to him, he already felt heaviness in his breathing as early as eight o’clock but only decided to seek assistance from one of his tenants a couple of hours later. Instead of going straight to the hospital less than one kilometer away, he instructed the tenant to bring him to my house, which is a good 15-20 minutes drive from his house.
My initial reaction was to rebuke him about his decision to come all the way to my house at the other side of town only to take him back to the hospital close to his house. But I later realized that my father was afraid and just needed me to be there for him. Moreover, he must have felt that there was no way to contact me as he already tried desperately to call the whole morning but to no avail (I imagine panic must have contributed to this).
The incident made him more acquiescent that led to the current living arrangement. My wife and I speculated that as he recovers and gains more confidence, he would want his independence back.
There were already a number of instances prior to that Sunday wherein he made some demands to go to certain places and do certain errands. It was becoming clear that he’s feeling well enough and slowly becoming restless. But for now, let us leave those stories - our (mis)adventures as he regains his confidence to venture by himself in a future blog.
Giving in to my father’s wishes did not come easily as we interpret them as merely excuses to go out of the house. However, it occurred to me that I may not always have such opportunity to bring him where he wants to go. I was just probably afraid it might become too frequent to handle. Anyway, he and I can always come up with certain compromises on how and when to do them should some conflicts emerge.
To accommodate his wishes to go to his barber, we went to the Cathedral and found it overflowing with people. The kids, my wife, my father and I content ourselves standing on the stairs leading to one of the three or four Cathedral entrances. We literally “heard” mass as we saw neither the priest nor the altar.
The Cathedral was just across the street from a park where a children’s playground was recently added. So while my father was having a haircut, the three kids had a blast with the animal statues.
It was particularly exciting to our toddler as he’s been learning to sing “Mr. Rhino…got one tail, four feet, twelve toes” much to our amusement, especially with his cute rendition and all. He proudly got on to each of the animals: the rhino, the tiger, the giraffe, the elephant, the zebra, but not the monkeys as they were literally on a tree, while the crocodile, tortoise and eagle were fenced and beyond reach.
I thought we would run out of things to do as it might turn out to be a long wait. But what a relief! It really takes so little to please these kids. I guess it was the fact that they were all there together to enjoy the rides and each other's company that made it fun, plus a chance to each demand from me a lift onto the back of the statues.
The baby happily watched us from her mother’s lap, while the latter got a chance to play catch up with a couple of long-distance friends over the phone. My father was of course happy not only because of his new haircut, but I guess also the importance he must have felt when we worked around our schedule to accommodate his needs (or whims).
The new week witnessed our toddler talking incessantly about the animal statues as he vividly recalls the giraffe’s long neck and the elephant’s big ears. It was the same excitement when he first rode a horse in a merry-go-round and the many other “firsts” that never fail to remind me how inconsequential the price I had to pay for the joy my children brings me.
Thanks in no small part to my father’s insistence and my decision to give in that the day became one of the family’s best Sundays. It turned out that giving in to make someone happy is actually a gift we give ourselves.
Today was quite different from our Sundays in recent months. A need to meet my students in a local university necessitates some adjustments in our Sunday routine; adjustments that turned a usually slow, simple day with limited things to do into a day teeming with energy and activities but restful at the same time.
Everyone in the household turned in early last night so it was no surprise that there was no trouble waking the kids up about an hour earlier than a normal Sunday. Our toddler was first to demand a bottle of milk who then cheerfully woke his older siblings up in the next room. Without much ado, they were up and inside the bathroom to shower.
The baby waited a bit for her cue, quietly looked around and listened to the activities from her crib. As my wife calls out from downstairs for a breakfast of champorado, anchovies and hotdogs, the baby also cooed to remind me to pick her up, too.
With much cooperation from everyone, we made it to church a few minutes into the mass (even though it was still on time according to my watch). It was our first time to attend service in this university chapel. Beautiful music, a serene atmosphere, and a homily about servant leadership were our immediate rewards for attendance.
In the three hours I spent fulfilling my work duties, my wife managed the needs of my father, our kids and a relative. The kids were freed to explore the university grounds, my father was taken to see my brother and his family, and a relative got a chance to see the kids.
As boredom sets in a couple of hours, a change in venue was needed. The nearby mall was a welcome solution. There was an organic produce fair to hold the kids’ attention for a few minutes and the kiddie rides took care of the remaining time that allowed my wife to leave them with their nannies to fetch me and my father from our respective appointments.
Much to her delight, we allowed our eldest child to decide which restaurant to dine in for lunch. My father also happily took care of the bill with an added incentive for him to take advantage of senior citizen discount.
After a hearty meal of chicken-based dishes, the kids and I went to the bookstore to check out children’s books, while my wife accompanied my father in buying a few clothing articles. It was then I realized how books became natural companion to our kids as our toddler eagerly feasted on various titles as did the older ones.
As we drove back home, the kids were as boisterous as they were early in the day. They were all talking and singing, including the baby who seemed to be making the loudest noise. The same degree of enthusiasm that got her booted out from the church during the homily as her “singing” started distracting elder churchgoers seated next to us.
The afternoon found most of us sleeping to later wake up to our regular Sunday game of scrabble. With much bravado, our eldest finally beat her parents after many Sundays of disappointment. It was indeed the greatest Sunday ever, she exclaimed.
As we perform our nightly gratitude ritual, everyone recognized how especially blessed this day had been. The kids enjoyed the sun as well as the modern amenities of a mall. The boys got to ride a “robot’, a “horse” and a “duckboat”.
Our nine year old showed leadership as she gave way to her younger brothers and let them enjoy the rides (and not herself) so she can stick to her “budget” and return the “emergency funds” in full to her mother. Allowing her to decide on the restaurant for lunch and winning scrabble over her parents later in the day also gave tremendous boost to her confidence.
My father got his wish to see my brother's family and to buy some new articles of clothing for himself. A relative was happy to see the kids once again. Our nannies got to see places they’ve never been.
I got to do my job and instead of ruining a Sunday, we were blessed with a great family day. Thanks to my wife who showed flexibility and turned an otherwise sticky issue to an opportunity to do something different: a Sunday with the usual activities we look forward to and a lot more.
With a wife and children like these, fatherhood is indeed a breeze…
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