maximine and minerva’s owl

five years ago, at the ripe old age of 39, my older sister died of lung complications due to breast cancer that had metastasized. her death was the first real pain that i had ever experienced; i didn’t know how to deal with the fact that she is never coming back and i would never see her again. i thought to my self that i had to do something to forget about the pain even for a little while (six months would have passed and i would still be suddenly crying even in the train, in my class, or in the middle of a task), something that would help diminish the sadness of the thoughts of her being gone. something seemingly more overpowering than my pain, so i thought of climbing fuji san. in my mind, though it may have sounded a bit arrogant, if i could conquer a mountain then maybe i would be able to conquer my pain. fuji san is shaped like a breast, thus making it even more symbolical.

fuji san is japan’s highest mountain and not easy to climb, it’s an inactive volcano composed mainly of basalt, gravel and dark sand, and towards the top, sticky red mud-like earth good for pottery. three quarters of its body from above the base upward to its peak is devoid of existence of any plants or animals, not a single shade to screen you from the scorching sun of summer. but when you’re on it you can get a magnificent view of the other mountains that surround it. the clouds look three dimensional against the blue sky and have an ‘optical illusion’ effect as if within your reach, as if you can touch or grab a handful of it. they change their form very quickly too that sure will amuse you like you are a child again. i couldn’t help thanking God at that moment i was there for His beautiful creations laid out in front of me before my very eyes. and when the night falls , the sky is so breathtaking, just like the ocean after the sunset, nothing but darkness and borders on the frightening and the mysterious. but once the thick clouds that loom give way, you could see an infinity of heavenly bodies: shooting stars, planets, the milky way, the moon, and every thing/one else that shines up there.

in the past 4 years i had had 3 attempts to climb fuji san, each time of which prevented either by a dismal weather or a mild illness on my part, or my husband’s sometimes erratic work schedule.
3 days ago we climbed it! but we didn’t reach the summit (again, same fate as Mt. Olympus) [*see July 26 Archive if it doesn’t work] because of sandstorm. we reached only up til the 8th station (a total of 9 plus a few more meters to the summit/crater). very strenuos but it’s worth every bit of it, it took us 9 hours from the 5th station (climbers usually start here; it’s a 2 1/2 hours bus ride from tokyo or shinjuku) with 15 minutes rest every 2 hrs. mt. olympus was a walk in the park compared to fuji san, we only needed enough provisions and warm clothing for the former, but for the latter we needed a whole lot: a staff, head flashlight, gloves to protect your hands from sharp rock edges as there are times that you have to move slowly on all fours, rain coat (for squall or sand storm), portable oxygen tank (in canister the size of a small thermos), and lots of drinking water so you don’t get dehydrated. upon reaching station 8 at 9PM, the plan was to have dinner, sleep and wake up at 3AM and continue the ascent to make it to the summit just in time for the sunrise which was to happen at 5:43. we had curried rice for dinner, edible enough; we were also given ahead one small styrofoam box each of sticky japanese rice with azuki beans and some pickles for breakfast. we stayed the night in the sleeping quarters at station 8. it’s like a military barracks sans beds, about 30 people sleeping side by side in musty beat-up futons and serried in a constricted rectangular space, we were packed like sardines literally. the toilet was hideous, an outhouse with a killer smell no toilet paper or running water - this to protect the mountain daw. and so came 3AM, everybody was up and with regained strength ready to complete the ascent. but the guides told us we couldn’t proceed anymore, too dangerous, the sandstorm was too strong and blinding. we were advised to start descending instead, and we did when safe enough at around 6AM . it took us about 31/2 hours going down to the 5th station. we’re back home by 2PM tired and dizzy.

i slept the whole day yesterday and am not tired anymore and my knees no longer feel bockety. i want to go back there and climb again and reach fuji san’s summit, and i will. next year then. for my ate E.

Last year in late April we climbed Mt. Olympus in Greece, it had been a long time obsession of mine (since High School) to set foot on that mountain. I’m not an avid mountaineer or a professional mountain climber or anything of sort, it’s just that I like mountains. I like looking at them and I climb those that I know would be possible for me to climb without the use of any special gears or undertaking proper training and climbing techniques. For one thing, Mt. Olympus is not so difficult to climb; it is verdant and the pathways are fairly easy to trail. If the weather is cooperative and Zeus likes you, it can be hiked in just one day. There are several refuges where you can get a short respite or even spend the night should you decide to stay until the next morning and catch the spectacular view of the early sunrise over the Aegean.

The day was sunny and the air crisp, we stuffed some choco bars, grapes, baguette bread, beef jerky, and bottled ice tea into our backpacks. The kind elderly lady in our hotel gestured to me that I needed warmer clothing over the flimsy cotton sweater that I had on, and she was right of course.
April and May are spring months in Greece and still chilly, naturally there is still snow on the Mt. Olympus’ summit, after all it’s the county’s highest peak. And this we didn’t realize because I thought spring was the best season to climb a mountain. Big mistake. I should have researched more about it. The police at the station in Litochoro (the village at the foot of the mountain) where we had registered for the ascent didn’t tell us that there was still thick snow enveloping some of its edges that lead to the summit and the rocks were icy and slippery thus reaching it was quite an impossible feat. I realized afterwards that they didn’t need to, because from the village square we could see it all white and frosty, idiot me, I guess that’s what excitement does to you. We climbed it anyway. 200 more meters and we would have reached the summit had it not been for the perilous icy rocks and ’still closed for the winter’ Refuge A (the refuge nearest to Mytikas-its highest peak).

Mt. Olympus is not a single lone structure that stands imposingly above the ground, say, unlike Mt. Fuji which is a large mass of basalt in a shape of a cone; rather it’s a series of big chunks of verdant slopes and ranges. Maybe it’s just me but looking at it from the airplane window high up above on our flight from Thessaloniki to Athens, it had seemed, to me, like a majestic white castle protruding from the clouds topping it, really quite something to behold especially from afar. There were so many varieties of trees, wild flowers, birds, bugs, and rocks and pebbles of all shapes. My penchant and romanticism for anything Greek, especially Greek myths and deities had solidified the delight that I was experiencing during our ascent. I was mesmerized by my own endless imaginings and a lot of things were playing inside my head: what if Zeus plays us by messing up the weather or sending a centaur to trick us and we lose our paths, what if Bacchus suddenly appears and offer us some inebriating food and drinks that we couldn’t refuse, or we get mesmerized by Pan’s flute playing and we fall asleep, freeze to death and wake up in Hades, or Pegasus taking us for a wild ride on his mighty wings? Crazy.

The experience was eventful and a great refreshment for the soul and having been in it was as whimsical as the characters inhabiting it (i’m getting so carried away now, hahaha..). This post is getting really long and tiring. I’ll continue next time. After our Fuji san ascent the day after tomorrow.

  i like this blog:   http://miloflamingo.blogspot.com

HE strays. his wife becomes fatally ill. he feels remorse, quits his job and devotes his time taking care of her. she dies. he blames himself and full of guilt shuts out the whole world. he lives in a small cabin deep in the woods at the foot of a mountain. after nine years he begins to open his door again, so to speak.
 
we met again after 13 years. he invited me to come over to his quaint little house amid poplars and pines, briars and wild flowers wherein you’d be delighted by the symphony of cicadas, warblers, and chilly breeze of mid-summer.
 
i first met him when i was in grad school back in the early 90’s in california; he was the bureau chief of the **** office in l.a., prior to that he had assumed the same post in manila at the time of the original edsa revolution. sitting in an uguy-ugoy on his cabin’s porch while sipping excellent locally produced yamanashi red wine we talked incessantly about the philippines: poverty, corruption, npa, kidnappings, imelda, cory, gringo, enrile, imee,fabian ver, and so on and so forth. he said imelda was very charming, disgusting but charming, nevertheless. and marcos was bitingly witty and handsome. he told me stories about his meetings and interviews with said people. he told me about how much he loved the philippines then and his and his wife’s penchant for sinigang and freddie aguilar’s song ‘anak’.

napunta ang usapan sa panahon na nadestino sya sa Japan, sa isang siyudad sa norte sila nanirahan, napakalamig doon at makapal ang yelo kapag winter. hobby nya ang pag-i-ski pero hindi gusto ng kanyang asawa. mas gusto pa nito ang tumigil sa bahay at mag-pinta ng self portraits-magaling siyang magpinta. pagkaraan ng dalawang taong paninirahan doon ay nagkasakit ang kanyang asawa. kanser sa bituka. 4 na buwan lamang ang itinagal nito.

tinanong ko sya kung ano ang pinakamasakit na naidulot nya sa kanyang asawa bago ito nagkasakit at namatay. ‘neglect’ daw. yun bang tipong nandun sya at magkasama sila pero wala ang isip nya sa kanya o sa pagiging magkasama nila. yun bang tipong ok nandyan sya at magkasama kami, tama na yon. walang spark, walang passion. hungkag sa madaling salita. hinihintay ko sanang sabihin nya na ‘yung pambababae ko’ pero di nya sinabi. i guess the word ‘neglect’ summed it all up.