is that noise coming from inside my head?

Late this afternoon I made a last-minute decision to go to Rizal Park to look for a certain Benjamin Gabuni, hoping that I can interview him for my Feature Writing project. For those of you who are too lazy to click on the link, Mr. Gabuni is a member of Food not Bombs Davao--ah, nevermind, just click on the link you lazy bum!


So anyway, I got off in front of the Magallanes Public School and made my way to the park through the back of City Hall, with camera in hand. I figured this guy--if he was still in the park--would be pretty easy to spot, going by bananas' description. Just look for the torn jeans, the predominantly black outfit, the piercings, perhaps a pineapple do. Also, he'll probably be surrounded by snotty kids. Okay, this interview's practically in the bag, I thought to myself.


Alas, what I didn't expect to find was a Rizal Park swarming with warm, sweaty bodies.


Sheesh, how could I forget--it was the Christmas season! Beside Rizal's monument was a merry-go-round. "LIBRENG SAKAY," says the streamer in front of it. Tsk, there goes my snotty kids.


I also noticed that everyone was holding a styropore bowl, which I assumed contained rice porridge. A ray of hope, I thought! I then began looking for the long line which will possibly lead me to the person I was looking for. But, when I saw the end of the line, I was dismayed to find out that the purveyors of the lugaw were not of the "Punks not Dead" variety. Rather, they were just a bunch of brusko-looking middle-aged men. I took a close look at the red printed matter on one of the bowls and was enlightened. It read: Pahalipay ni Rody sa Katawhan (my rough translation: Rody's Gift of Joy to the Warm, Sweaty Masses).

Abandoning all hopes of finding the elusive Mr. Gabuni, I instead contented myself with taking crappy pictures of my be-decored surroundings. I apologize in advance for my spastic hands and my camera's dirty lens.