Alternative time killers

Two weeks after I flew home from my grad school tour of America, I realized I had turned into a zombie. No, not the vicious, disfigured flesh-eating kind one would find antagonizing entire towns in Hollywood B-movies or tormenting your friends on Facebook. I felt like my mind had turned off and my body was trying to function without it. I was experiencing existential anguish over the fact that I would soon be transitioning back to school and had absolutely no idea where I would end up in the next few months. My anxiety was only further amplified by a severe lack of sleep brought on by jetlag. I tried to calm myself by talking to friends, only to learn that those capable of hearing out my spastic, insomnia-induced panic attacks at the buttcrack of dawn were those who lived in different time zones. Needless to say, the late-night IM sessions with my friends in New York and early-morning phone conversations with my better half in Los Angeles did nothing to help my situation. I locked myself in my room and only left my bed to shower, eat and occasionally pay the Jollibee delivery guy for another bucket of Chicken Joy. Each day was spent in this limbo of futile attempts to pass the time and wait for my future to be revealed, in the form of letters from the admissions committees of the schools I applied to. I knew this would not happen for a few more months and my impatience made waiting all the more excruciating. I was the living dead, meandering through the waking world with no more goals to check off my to-do list.

Thankfully, the apathy with which I was living my life did not last long. One day I finally woke up, decided to shake off my reclusive urges and knee my lack of motivation in the nuts. My skin had taken on an unholy color from being cooped up in a room that was even darker than a Skid Row song. My pajamas became my uniform and I would shower only to change into another oversized band shirt and pair of boxers. The highs and lows of my days had become dependent on what programs were showing on television. I was in the Bell Jar and I did not like it. I’d had enough of my self-indulgent lethargy and thus decided to grab life by the balls in ways that would make the Pepsi Max marketing team proud. The fact that I had a lot of time to pass didn’t mean I couldn’t take a proactive approach to it. I had run out of items to cross off my checklist of things to do, so I decided to make a new one. I knew I wasn’t going to reach any life-changing personal epiphanies with this new set of goals, but anything was better than succumbing to a zombie-slacker existence that made waiting for my life to happen about as exciting as watching paint dry. For everyone’s perusal, I’ve included this list of productive ways to pass time below. These days, I still go to bed at dawn, but at least now, I have reasons to get out of it.

1. Fall in love again. No, I don’t mean with a person. When coming home puts you in a bit of a slump, it’s probably a good idea to explore the reasons you call it home in the first place. I decided to rediscover Manila and began to explore the strange cultural cross-sections that give meaning to this wonderful (yet terribly misunderstood) city. I signed up for Carlos Celdran’s walking tour of historic Intramuros, which I had actually done before. Much has to be said about Carlos’ ability to condense centuries of significant events into a highly entertaining history lesson “for those with absolutely no attention span.” His undeniable talent as a performer is put to excellent use as he walks you through various monuments around Intramuros, and with his arsenal of costumes, visual aids and music, gives you the lowdown on Philippine history from a paradigm you won’t find in any textbook. “I can’t change the way Manila looks,” Carlos says, “but I can change the way you look at Manila.”

While walking through Intramuros with Carlos did wonders to rekindle my love affair with my hometown, it is a known fact that the quickest way to my heart is through my stomach. So imagine my delight at discovering Ivan Mandy’s eating tour of Binondo. I signed up for it almost immediately with the enthusiasm of a heartbroken woman rocking a platinum credit card during sale season. The Big Binondo Food Wok is a four-hour adventure that walks you through 400 years of history in Chinatown. Ivan fills your mind and your belly with tidbits of Chinese culture and cuisine and explains its relevance to contemporary Filipino culture. The tour stops at several traditional Chinese shops and restaurants, but it’s the more obscure food stops that make it a trip worth taking. “On the whole,” Ivan says, “it’s really more of a cultural experience which involves seeing the sights, hearing the sounds, understanding the stories and appreciating the taste — essentially making everyone celebrate the fun in being Filipino.”

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To book a tour with Carlos Celdran, call or text 0920-9092021 or visit www.celdrantours.blogspot.com. To book one with Ivan Mandy, call or text 0917-329-1622 or visit www.oldmanilawalks.com.

2.  Take up a new hobby… and try not to fall down. In a desperate attempt to get out of the house, I called up my high school friends one Saturday afternoon to come pick me up and save me from my Howard Hughes existence. Imagine my surprise when I answered the door — in full makeup and disco Chucks — to see them standing there with longboards. “We’re going to teach you how to skate today,” they said. Needless to say, I was pretty much forced to reconcile with my gravitational issues on the spot, while my friends stood and watched. Surprisingly, I didn’t eat concrete on my first attempt and had more fun going up and down my street than I ever had before. Never mind that my eyeliner had dripped down to my collarbones at the end of it. I hadn’t played outside with my friends since we were in the seventh grade. Now I’m wondering why we ever stopped.

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I had so much fun learning to skate I’m saving up to buy my own longboard from Ladera Manila’s site, www.whiskeyhill.multiply.com. Hopefully, with enough practice I’ll be brave enough to do all those fancy tricks. But for now, I’ll settle for not falling down.

3. Conquer your fear with friends. I hate to say it, but quality time with your crew can get kind of old if you’re hitting up the same happy hour joint for after-work cocktails every single weeknight. Of course, when you’re not really dressed in your boogie shoes and aren’t in the mood to shake your groove thing at a place with a dress code and a doorman, it’s always good to find a cheaper, chilled-out venue for your shenanigans. During our quest for new ways to go nighttiming, my friends and I discovered Rockeoke, which happens every first and third Monday of the month at Mag:net Bonifacio High Street. Hosted by Quark Henares, JC Medina and Gabe Mercado, this wicked alternative to karaoke encourages participants to “rock out with their c**ks out” while a house band (The Johnnys) backs them up. Those ready to rock pick a song from five books that circulate throughout the night. When the time comes, you can call on friends to back you up or choose to face the music on your own. What bumps Rockeoke all the way up to the top of my fun list is the bonding experience it promises everyone who attends. It doesn’t matter if you’ve sung professionally or if your vocal abilities haven’t made it past your shower door. Your timing can be off and your voice may crack when you try to reach the high notes, but your peers always applaud you for your efforts and by the end of the night, you’ll find yourself high-fiving strangers and swapping numbers with new friends. I’ve already been several times, and while I’m more certain than ever that I will never merit a career in the music industry, my Monday nights have definitely become more interesting.

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Check out www.magnethighstreet.multiply.com for more updates on Rockeoke.

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What do you do to pass the time? E-mail me at whippersnappergirl@hotmail.com. I’m always up for an adventure.