Time is our friend in Perth

My family and I just came back from a short trip to Perth, the capital and largest city of the state of Western Australia. 

It was a very pleasant trip mainly because life ambles along in Perth, which contrasts greatly with how it seems to be in danger of getting choked in the road and pedestrian traffic that gurgles and rushes to fill any gap in Metro Manila, where I live.

We're the only ones waiting for a free ride
on a blue CAT bus that will take us
to the Fremantle Markets.

First, there is no heavy traffic, even in the commercial business district of Perth. We ride bus after bus for free, and we don’t even line up to get on one. Perth provides zero-fare bus and train trips around the city center (the "Free Transit Zone"), including four high-frequency CAT (Central Area Transit) bus routes. 

Compare this with the line of people stretching along Epifanio de los Santos Avenue (EDSA) to get a bus ride, with some even ignoring the danger posed by Manila’s major thoroughfare to break into a run and meet oncoming buses in an effort to get on first.  Add those waiting to get tickets to the Metro Rail Transit (MRT), whose line also snakes all the way down EDSA. 

In Perth, one can actually breathe. Look around. Walk. 

It isn’t just because we are on vacation mode.  The energy is different. People get to where they need to go; there’s just no tension about it.

The view from our room at the hotel, located
near the Elizabeth Quay of the City of Perth.

Maybe it’s because Perth is considered one of the most isolated major cities in the world, with the Indian Ocean on one side and the Australian outback on the other. The nearest city is Adelaide, which is over 2,092 kilometers away. There are some 2 million inhabitants, with about the same number of visitors in a year.

Everything closes at 5 p.m. OK, maybe not everything. Some at 5:30 p.m. and the few beyond that at 8 p.m.  I look forward to coffee after dinner and am aghast to find coffee joints closed. We get off a bus stop past 5 p.m. along St. Georges Terrace, Perth’s main street, and find stores and offices shuttered, even the main grocery chain Woolworths, where we had hoped to get some items we’d forgotten to pack. 

So we walk on, because in Perth, there are a lot of public, open spaces which we want to explore. Except that the cold, cold wind is against us. We are in Perth in September, on days when the temperature is recorded at a maximum 21 and a minimum 2 degrees Celsius. We are quickly disabused of the notion that it is better to walk late in the afternoon when the sun is low, and decide it is best to do so at noon when the sun is highest.

We see the Perth City skyline from Kings Park.

We quickly adjust to walking around, barely perspiring in the cool weather, even during hours of walking at Kings Park and Botanic Garden, which covers 400.6 hectares and is one of the largest inner city parks in the world. We are wowed by the views since Kings Park overlooks Perth City and the Swan River. But what holds our attention is the beauty, size and variety of the West Australian flora painstakingly planted and documented in the park’s cultivated gardens.

Hubby poses in front
of a 750-year-old (estimated)
Boab tree.

My daughter quickly gets lost taking picture after picture of the flowers and plants which catch her eye. Even my husband, whose only motivation for walking seems to be a game of golf, doesn’t complain. He points out the magpies and parrots that ignore us, chirping away as they arrange themselves on tree boughs and flutter to the ground every now and then. 

I look around and note the absence of ambulant vendors and food stalls, which pepper public open spaces like Luneta Park in Manila.  We agree that this is one of the reasons King’s Park retains the feel of a natural habitat, and remains pristine and clean even as my daughter remarks, “I could use a hotdog just about now.”

We visit the rest of the sites the same way, unhurried and in hand with Time: Elizabeth Quay; the Esplanade; the streets of Hay and Murray, where the malls are located; the markets and streets of Fremantle and Perth’s cultural center.

I am startled to see some men and children walking barefoot along city streets, in groceries and at the Fremantle markets. I understand that some people in Australia prefer to walk barefoot because they believe in a way of life that makes them feel more “free” yet connected to the land. I cringe inwardly at how unhygienic and unsafe it is, but that’s just me.

But I applaud at the way they take pride in things made and grown in Australia, as illustrated by the many signs put up in market stalls, cafes and other commercial establishments.  They have every reason to be proud of their produce.

At a market in Fremantle, I can only sigh at the sight of the

There are so many fruits and vegetables
we cannot bring home.

gigantic-sized bell peppers and the even larger sugar apple (atis), which I know I cannot bring home per a 2015 joint circular of the Department of Health, Food and Drug Administration, and the Bureau of Customs which prohibits bringing in fresh or frozen unprocessed foods - even in quantities for personal use - into the Philippines without prior clearance from the Department of Agriculture of the Philippines.

There’s a burst of energy on Friday nights, it seems.  The streets come alive as professionals break out of their offices to fill watering holes and end the week relaxing and drinking. We are not drinkers so we avoid the bars, even if we cannot escape the din from joints like Public House Perth along Adelaide Terrace which stretches all the way across the street.

With the St. Mary's Cathedral in the background.

The rest of the days, it goes back to slow, even crawling to a near stop on Sundays. A last-minute decision to visit Rottnest Island falls through so we decide to explore the heritage buildings on Perth’s east end after attending Mass at the nearby St. Mary’s Cathedral. 

Aside from the beauty of the church and the solemnity of the Mass, two things stand out to me: Majority of the boys who were installed as new choristers after the Mass bear Filipino surnames, and there are customized envelopes for tourists, allowing them to make contributions via credit card.

We take the time to buy souvenirs, confirming what we already know: In Perth, things are expensive. Because of Perth’s relative geographical isolation, you have to pay a bit more to cover the costs of freight and logistics in getting goods delivered. 

Too soon, it seems, the trip ends. We end the time warp we find ourselves in Perth and go back to busying, hurrying and running around in the humid, wonderful familiar that is our home country. 

But if given the chance to visit Perth again, we certainly will to explore the places we missed and catch up with friends we did not get to see. And yes, to renew the friendship we made with Time in Perth.

Babang Luksa

It is customary in the Philippines to mark the first death anniversary as the end of mourning or “babang luksa” as the Tagalogs call it. The word “baba” means to lower, referring to a veil customarily worn to mourn the passing of a loved one.

As prescribed by tradition, my sisters and I offer prayers for my mom and celebrate with a meal, signaling that the period of bereavement has ended. It hasn’t and I doubt if it will anytime soon.

But we are dutiful daughters. My sisters in Cebu go to Mass, visit Mommy’s grave then have breakfast together. The rest of us attend Mass where we are located. As usual, I go on overdrive. I have the 7 a.m. mass said for my mother at the nearby chapel of a Formation Center, then again at 6:30 p.m. at the Parish Church and one at the Minor Basilica of Our Lady of the Most Holy Rosary of Manaoag in Pangasinan. Except for the last which is celebrated some 200 kilometers away from where I live, I attend both masses.

I am not the only one. My youngest sister also has two masses offered for Mommy on her death anniversary. Everyone, including those in the US, have flowers bought for her grave. One of them puts out an ad in the local paper to honor her memory. What harm can it do? My sisters and I laugh about it over the phone, in between bouts of crying. No, this mourning period is not likely to end anytime soon.

I think these traditions for the dead are more about enabling the living to cope with their loss and to feel that they have dutifully mourned the passing of their love ones.

I believe in praying for the repose of our loved ones’ souls and/or offering the Holy Mass for them. God is with us, whether it is in this life or the afterlife and He has dominion over all. We have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

But I do know that we, myself included, overdo things because we feel that somehow, we need to do something more for our loved ones who have passed away.

I believe that Mommy is with God in heaven yet I feel the need to fly to Cebu to visit her grave, buy flowers that easily wilt under the heat of the sun and light candles that are quickly extinguished by the wind or worse, disappear once our backs are turned. Because I MUST do something on her death anniversary. Mommy would scoff at me, but she would still be touched and if just for that, I do it anyway. Because it makes me feel better.

So we go to the noonday mass Mommy liked attending at a certain chapel then proceed to a restaurant where I ache remembering the countless times she treated all of us to a meal there because the younger ones cannot have enough of the chicken skin.

Then I fly back home still aching but feeling better that those of us who could, gather in prayer for Mommy on her first death anniversary. I am glad we all made the effort even if honoring the babang luksa does not end our grief over losing Mommy. In my heart, I know Mommy is glad for any reason for her children to come together, even if it is her demise.

A Message from the family of Evelyn R. Luab

(Delivered during the book launch of “Light Sunday” - selected essays written by the late Evelyn R. Luab for the regular Sunday column of SunStar Cebu - which were compiled and published into a book by Class '72 of Sacred Heart School for Boys - Ateneo de Cebu)

To the Sacred Heart School for Boys Class of ’72, led by Mr. Jose Soberano III, our friends from SunStar Cebu, Saint Theresa’s Alumnae Association of Cebu City led by Ida Magallon, all of Mommy’s close friends who we are privileged to call “Tita” and “Tito” from the bible study and meditation groups she attended under the Cenacle sisters and the Redemptorist Fathers, and those from her Ayala hiking group, friends ... good afternoon.

I wish Mommy was here. I wish she could see all this. I wish she could feel all the love, support, respect and the high regard with which you hold her. She would be very thankful and quite touched that her former students have chosen to honor her by publishing an anthology of her essays written for “Light Sunday” of SunStar Cebu.

This book has taken a long time in the making. Class ’72 tried to do this while Mommy was still alive but they found her at a stage in her life when she no longer had the energy to do the work needed to do this book. She was also too proud to take me up on my offer to do the work for her. Nothing that my sisters and I said could convince her that to take on this project for her would not be a burden to us.

As you know -- as anyone who knows her well knows – Mommy did not want to be a burden to anyone.

You see, Mommy was a giver. She was the best at giving. But she was not that great at receiving. For some reason, she always felt a sense of discomfort that she had caused a person to spend time, energy, money and effort on her.

Take for instance the time she ran into Mr. Soberano at UCC Café. Mommy said that when she asked for the bill, she found out that he had already paid it. I heard this story almost every time we would be eating at a restaurant and chance upon one of her former students there. She was always anxious that THAT person would do a “Jo Soberano” and pay for our meal without our knowledge.

But that story always ended with her telling us how good she felt that a student of hers from some time back remembered her well enough to do such a nice thing for her. She appreciated what Mr. Soberano did, just like she appreciated all the nice gifts and touching gestures that people did for her and she took well to remember them, even keeping things from way back.

After she died, I found a clipping in one of her notebooks which contained her “Light Sunday” articles published in 1999. It was a clipping of GEETEEVEE, a column by Bien Fernandez titled “Flashbacks.” I saw that she had circled a paragraph where Bien expressed that he had been fortunate to have had Mommy as his English teacher in high school because not only did she teach discernment in English literature, more importantly, she taught compassion.

Indeed, she had loads of compassion. You will see this in the articles contained in this book, which offer a view of how she lived her life as a wife, mother, grandmother, teacher, friend, a member of the Cebu community, a citizen of this nation, an employer, and all the other roles she played in her lifetime.

Mommy wrote what she knew. She laid out what was real to her and what stood out to her. She did not pretend to be a connoisseur or an expert of anything. One cannot go through 1,350 clippings collected over 27 years of her writing “Light Sunday” and fail to realize that here was a real person, a woman with thoughts and experiences just like ours, laying herself and her life open in the hope that it would help someone gain something – whether it was an insight, values, strength, a realization, an appreciation of their blessings…anything.

And because Mommy was a person of faith, she made sure that even as she shared of herself in “Light Sunday,” that it would not be about her but about how God’s love and amazing grace shines in the most mundane to the most unusual of experiences, in the daily rigors of our journey here on earth and through people from all walks of life, even from those we least expect it.

This is why we agreed to have this book published. In our hearts, we are sure that Mommy appreciates this tribute. However, we must be honest and tell you that she did not expect one and she did not really want to have a lot of fuss made over her. She had even left instructions to this effect before she died. “The less people who know I am gone, the better. I came quietly into the world – my passing should also be quiet and simple,” she wrote us.

Obviously, this did not happen. I think Mommy never fully realized the impact she had on people … or the power of Facebook and social media.

So, we would like to take Mommy’s lead and make this book not about her, but about the mission that she had set for herself in writing “Light Sunday.” She saw her column as a way to spread God’s Word in her own words by telling stories of how His Love prevails in our lives in times of joy and sorrow and even in the midst of problems and obstacles.

Thanks to Class ’72, her work outlives her and we hope, inspires readers both old and new, to do all things with Love – Love of God and of fellowmen, and to keep believing that with God, all things are possible.

We would like to mention in particular Mr. Soberano not only for leading the group in taking on this project but also for believing in and supporting Mommy. We also thank the other major sponsors -- Mr. Erramon “Montxu” Aboitiz, Robert “Bob” Gothong, Benjamin “Boojie” Lim and Jasper Tan.

Raymund, we are amazed by your creativity and the amount of work you did in so short a time with your wife Estela and your kids. There are 73 articles in this book, which Raymund got his kids to encode – and this does not include those that they encoded and which did not make the cut. Thank you for the patience and sensitivity you displayed in handling our family and for respecting what Mommy wanted for this book.

We also thank the members of the core group working on this project – Mr. Bien Fernandez, Roy Emil Yu, Danny Kimseng, Rene Villarica and his son Carlo and the staff of Cebu Landmasters.

We also thank SunStar Cebu, without who this book would certainly not be possible. Mommy always counted as among her greatest blessings the fact that she was able to do what she loved, which was to write, in the service of the Lord.

To all those who are here, I cannot name you one by one, but please know that you are as much a part of this book as all those I mentioned earlier. Some of you, literally and by name. We are all part of "Light Sunday" because we are all part of Mommy’s Life.

So let me end by thanking everyone the way Mommy usually thanked someone for a gift or a gesture that was so big that she knew she could not repay it:  “Thank you very much. This is exactly what we wanted for Mommy. Ang Ginoo na lang ang mahibalo kaninyo (The Lord knows best how to reward you).”

Good afternoon.