There is a certain experience in my life that I have been through a couple of times but which I don't how to describe without sounding vague or ridiculous. If you happen to be reading this and have had the same experience, be sure to leave a message. For the lack of a precise term, I must name whatever it is I've set out to describe here as the "loss-of-knowledge state."
It is a particular moment in your life when all of a sudden you lose your ability to communicate. The change occurs all of a sudden and can usually last for several days or a few weeks. For no apparent reason, your oral (not written) communication skills seem to hit rock-bottom, and you are almost completely inarticulate if not mute. You open your mouth but what comes out are random words, because in your head you can't string coherent or at least meaningful sentences.
While this loss-of-knowledge state lasts, you are powerless and have no control over the situation. No matter how hard you try to concentrate, it seems impossible to express complex thoughts such as opinions, observations or personal emotions. In extreme cases, articulating simple thoughts such as questions or commands can also prove difficult. The loss-of-knowledge state is so overpowering, that you often have no choice but to wait until it is over.
I call it loss of knowledge because I'm referring to one's knowledge of words and of speech. Your capacity for oral speech is momentarily disabled. It usually occurs when you are going through a particularly stressful period in your life, which is best captured by the Spanish concept of "nervios" -- an emotional state characterized by stress and anxiety. If you're thinking that being dumbfounded after a stressful day in the office (because you had an argument with your boss and embarrassed yourself during a presentation) constitutes a loss-of-knowledge state, then you don't get what I mean. Because I'm referring to something worse. Loss of knowledge occurs when two weeks have passed since that stressful day, your boss has given you a salary raise, your presentation has been praised by clients, and yet all of a sudden you find yourself incapable of coherent speech.
The closest comparison I can think of is a writer's block. However, I'm not talking about the few moments or hours wherein a writer can't seem to hit upon the opening sentence of his article. That's a petty kind of writer's block and must not cause worry. The loss-of-knowledge state is closer to a phase in which a writer is totally rendered incapable of producing any writing and has to wait for a few months or even years before his new piece comes out. Thus, I'm talking about a more profound and persistent kind of block.
Those who speak foreign languages are most prone to fall into this loss-of-knowledge state. All of a sudden, they can't communicate in the foreign language they supposedly know.
A couple of years back, shortly before leaving Japan, I felt I went through such horrible experience. Towards the end of my stay, my Japanese-speaking skills diminished almost to a ZERO-level. I couldn't construct complex and meaningful sentences. I could understand what people were telling me, and yet I couldn't shoot back with meaningful answers. For no apparent reason, I was limited to simple sentence constructions like "I see," "certainly," "really?" etc.
Right now I have reason to believe that I've slipped back into this loss-of-knowledge state. I feel that I'm losing my knowledge of Spanish! A few weeks ago, I was at the supermarket and no matter how hard I squeezed my brains out, I couldn't figure out whether plastic bags were called "bolso" or "bolsa." These days what comes out of my mouth are simple sentences with one subject and one predicate, and I can't seem to construct longer sentences that use relative pronouns such as that, which, who, whom, etc. It's as if I hadn't studied Spanish and lived here for two years!
Whenever you're trapped in the loss-of-knowledge state, your best bet is to simply continue talking to a lot of people no matter how dumb you might sound to them. The harder you try to overcome it, the more futile it seems to fight the thing. As for me, I think I am more curious than bothered by it.
In Filipino, there's an adage that goes "Hindi nananakaw ang talino." Which roughly means that knowledge can never be stolen from you. However, if what I'm saying is true, then momentarily at least knowledge can be taken away from you.
So, anyway, does anyone understand this post at all? Have you ever experienced this loss-of-knowledge state?
jueves, noviembre 16, 2006
lunes, noviembre 06, 2006
From Rosa Montero
I've been reading literature quite a lot lately, at least more than I used to since I graduated from college. The last book that I read, La Historia del Rey Transparente, was surprisingly like olive oil. It tastes good but you shouldn't take in too much of it. However, I stumbled upon a nice passage from the book which I would like to share. I'm not sure whether my translation captures the impact of the original, but here goes:Los hombres suelen llamar destino a aquello que les sucede cuando pierden las fuerzas para luchar.
(Men often call destiny that which befalls them when they lose the will to fight.)
Food for thought?
jueves, noviembre 02, 2006
Japanese friends on honeymoon
This is Tomomi and Yasuaki. For those who are not familiar with Japanese names, Tomomi is a she and from there the rest is easy. I've known Tomomi for some seven years now through a cultural program in Tokyo which we both participated in. It turns out that she tied the knot with Yasuaki last May and they decided to come to Spain for a belated honeymoon. It was fun to see them again! I got to play Mr. Tour Guide -- as I always do whenever some friends happen to be around the area -- and invited the couple to have dinner in my flat. Modesty aside, I must compliment myself for not messing up the food this time. My culinary skills are above average under normal circumstances. Yet for some reason, something fails whenever I cook in volume. So I was surprised (and almost bewildered) when everything turned out fine last week, except for the steak which kind of came out rock-hard because it wasn't completely defrosted before frying. No matter how disastrous that sounds, I was actually delighted. I've hosted more embarrassing dinners in the past :--)
domingo, octubre 29, 2006
Sleep2
For the past two weeks, I have been rudely awakened in the wee hours of the morning by a tiny and yet powerful noise. My bed is placed right next to the window from where the noise comes into my bedroom and it stays to hover around my face and my ears until my unconscious state is rudely interrupted. My usual response is to clap my hands helplessly in the dark and halve with my palm the air around my ears, but that is not enough to make the noise go away. It continues to fly, like a helicopter soaring above a volcano top, and shoots an annoying zzzzzzzzzz sound deep into my poor eardrums. The bane of my sleeping hours -- a mosquito -- just won't leave me in peace! I have a feeling that the same mosquito has been coming to visit me for the past two weeks. Because my room is always mosquito-free both during the day and right before bedtime, so perhaps it has always been that ONE mosquito with a bad habit of turning up at 3 am. The flapping of its wings, worth more decibels than my alarm clock and cellphone alarm combined, has always been enough in itself to suck me out of slumber. Autumn is officially here, but I can't close the windows at night because that would be too uncomfortable as of yet, so yesterday night my tiny little adversary came back again. This time, he wasn't back to simply demonstrate the vibrating effect of his flying skills, but he even bit me on the face! I just wish that his sucking tubes were clogged with more facial oil, than blood!
domingo, octubre 15, 2006
Nicotine
The cigarette vendor downstairs must be very happy. Sales are rising and it's all because of me.
Look at this one-of-a-kind work of art. It's mine...
But don't try this at home.
Look at this one-of-a-kind work of art. It's mine...
But don't try this at home.
Cathy in India
Cathy finally jumped into the blogging world, at http://masala-raga.blogspot.com. Her latest conquest - India.
domingo, septiembre 24, 2006
Dreamy state
Since I started this blog, I have been trying not to let pass a single month without posting even one entry. I'm afraid that if I did, it would be the start of this blog's slow but sure demise into oblivion, that one omitted month in my archives list would lead to another and another and another... This month, September, is especially hard for me to keep up to that promise. For all the "focusing" and "getting my act together" that I have been trying to do, it seems that these days I am not in the mood for anything. My mind knows what needs to be done, but my body would rather prefer to be a couch potato, constantly falling into a state of drunken stupor. I'm not in the mood to start working on a journal article which I promised to co-write with my thesis adviser. I'm not in the mood to jog with Enrique and use up my remaining entrance stubs to the public swimming pool. I'm not in the mood to start reading a novel I thought I would finish in two weeks. Nor am I in the mood to prepare hand-outs for my English class. Oh, by the way, how I hate teaching English! All it seems I have the mood for is to solve sudoku puzzles before going to sleep! If for anything, yesterday would be a good example of how my life is recently. Saturday took off with me having a mental list of tasks to be done, but I ended up buying a pack of cigarettes, dozing off in the afternoon, pigging out on pasta in the evening, and staying up late to watch sickening hard porn on TV at 2am. I swear, had the glass of 20%-alcohol wine that I drank been enough to induce vomiting, I would have pumped out of my stomach a whole sea of foul greenish liquid that spells A-N-X-I-E-T-Y. That's the culprit of it all!
miércoles, agosto 30, 2006
Summer backpacking 2006: Portugal
This year's destination for our summer backpacking was Portugal, which flanks Spain on the western side. Because it is so close to where I live, I would compare it to flying from Manila to Hong Kong except that you wouldn't even have to take the plane. A bus could get you there. From the very start we were debating which country to visit, taking into consideration our budget limit, our preferences and stuff we had heard about different places, and in the end we both settled for the country that was right next to ours, as well as two regions in the north of Spain which were Castilla y Leon and Extremadura. Since our point of origin, Malaga, was located in the south, we ended up following an "elevator route," heading off to Portugal and going up, up, up north, then crossing over to Spain and continuing down, down, down until we reached the coastal city of Málaga, our starting point. Well, two-man adventure kicked off in the evening of August 7 and lasted till August 22, spanning a total of 13 cities.
Lisbon. Our very first stop was Portugal's capital, where I learned the Spanish term for "steep road," or "cuesta," because I would hear José María utter it in a characteristic frustrated tone all the time. Much to our disappointment, a big part of the historic quarter was spread out in an elevated section of the city. So walking the streets of Lisbon was like training to be a mountaineer, aggravated by the 40-degree summer heat which made us buy bottled water a lot of times. Portugal's capital for the most part is dirty and disorderly. The old houses seem to fall into ruin, paint chipping off their walls and droplets of stale water skydiving onto your head from the rusting roofs of five-storey buildings. Right below is a typical residential building in the historic quarter.
Belém. Strictly speaking, Belém is still part of Lisbon except that it is six kilometers from the city center and looks like a different world altogether. It sits by the river and offers a splendid view of the waters lined by a bridge so tall it is almost a skyscraper! Belém's main attraction is a 16th-century monastery declared by UNESCO as a world heritage site, which transports you back into an era long gone as soon as you step into it. Here's a picture of the lovely cloister.
Sintra. Before we decided to go to Portugal, I'd told Jose Maria that we must strive to do some physical activity, aside from the usual church-hopping which he liked no end. Sintra was the closest we got to being "physical." There was a fairy-tale-like castle on top of a hill from where, on our way back, we had to hike because a fallen tree somewhere had blocked the roads that the buses couldn't pass. We saw a lot of trees, some ducks, horses, and a rather boring lake. Not bad, haha! Here's a picture of the castle.
Évora. This place is white. The houses, the public buildings, even the restaurants are white. It reminds me of the Spanish region of Andalucia where most of the old houses are white. The only thing that's not white in Évora is the cathedral and some unpainted buildings that have retained their natural stone color. The historic centre, also a UNESCO-protected site, constitutes a small town in itself and is set apart from the rest of the city by walls. Here's a picture of a white building.
Fátima. On our fifth day in Portugal, we found ourselves with nowhere to go. The previous night, we had been to check out the gay scene in Lisbon (which didn't amount to anything really), so we woke up with bloodshot eyes and a mild headache. At the bus station we wanted to pick a destination at random and it somehow occurred to us to visit Fátima. The city itself is not a marvel but the Virgin's apparition to Lúcia, Francisco and Jacinta piques the curiosity of many. The place was filled with pilgrims, camp sites and rosaries for sale. Here's a picture of some devotees who walk on their knees from the southern part of the square to the miracle site.
Coimbra. We arrived in Coimbra on Sunday morning so the place seemed peaceful and dreamy. Only a few cars were on the streets and most commercial establishments were closed. If there's one thing I liked about this city it certainly was the university, which the Portuguese consider as the "Oxford of Portugal" because it is old and has great architectural value, unlike most modern European universities. A small corner of the 18th-century library is shown in the following picture.
Oporto. Old houses, huge crowds. Pretty much resembles the 19th-century Manila I've seen in black and white photos. I consider Oporto one of the most memorable for four reasons. First, because on the day that I had to wash my clothes all the laundry shops seemed closed and I felt seriously threatened to put on used underwear. Second, because we group-toured a wine stockhouse and it was my first time to go to a wine-tasting (pic below). Third, because Oporto wine is sweet and has 20% alcohol content! Fourth, because it rained a lot even if it was summer.
Braga. This is one place I don't remember a lot about. I think it's got the usual churches and other historical stuff. We were supposed to go to Bom Jesus do Monte, a church perched on a hilltop, but we missed the city bus, which made us miss the funicular, which gave us no time to hike all the way to the church because we had already bought the tickets for the ride back to Oporto. To José María's disappointment, we just meandered around the foot of the hill. Here's a picture of the main plaza.
Lisbon. Our very first stop was Portugal's capital, where I learned the Spanish term for "steep road," or "cuesta," because I would hear José María utter it in a characteristic frustrated tone all the time. Much to our disappointment, a big part of the historic quarter was spread out in an elevated section of the city. So walking the streets of Lisbon was like training to be a mountaineer, aggravated by the 40-degree summer heat which made us buy bottled water a lot of times. Portugal's capital for the most part is dirty and disorderly. The old houses seem to fall into ruin, paint chipping off their walls and droplets of stale water skydiving onto your head from the rusting roofs of five-storey buildings. Right below is a typical residential building in the historic quarter.
Belém. Strictly speaking, Belém is still part of Lisbon except that it is six kilometers from the city center and looks like a different world altogether. It sits by the river and offers a splendid view of the waters lined by a bridge so tall it is almost a skyscraper! Belém's main attraction is a 16th-century monastery declared by UNESCO as a world heritage site, which transports you back into an era long gone as soon as you step into it. Here's a picture of the lovely cloister.
Sintra. Before we decided to go to Portugal, I'd told Jose Maria that we must strive to do some physical activity, aside from the usual church-hopping which he liked no end. Sintra was the closest we got to being "physical." There was a fairy-tale-like castle on top of a hill from where, on our way back, we had to hike because a fallen tree somewhere had blocked the roads that the buses couldn't pass. We saw a lot of trees, some ducks, horses, and a rather boring lake. Not bad, haha! Here's a picture of the castle.
Évora. This place is white. The houses, the public buildings, even the restaurants are white. It reminds me of the Spanish region of Andalucia where most of the old houses are white. The only thing that's not white in Évora is the cathedral and some unpainted buildings that have retained their natural stone color. The historic centre, also a UNESCO-protected site, constitutes a small town in itself and is set apart from the rest of the city by walls. Here's a picture of a white building.
Fátima. On our fifth day in Portugal, we found ourselves with nowhere to go. The previous night, we had been to check out the gay scene in Lisbon (which didn't amount to anything really), so we woke up with bloodshot eyes and a mild headache. At the bus station we wanted to pick a destination at random and it somehow occurred to us to visit Fátima. The city itself is not a marvel but the Virgin's apparition to Lúcia, Francisco and Jacinta piques the curiosity of many. The place was filled with pilgrims, camp sites and rosaries for sale. Here's a picture of some devotees who walk on their knees from the southern part of the square to the miracle site.
Coimbra. We arrived in Coimbra on Sunday morning so the place seemed peaceful and dreamy. Only a few cars were on the streets and most commercial establishments were closed. If there's one thing I liked about this city it certainly was the university, which the Portuguese consider as the "Oxford of Portugal" because it is old and has great architectural value, unlike most modern European universities. A small corner of the 18th-century library is shown in the following picture.
Oporto. Old houses, huge crowds. Pretty much resembles the 19th-century Manila I've seen in black and white photos. I consider Oporto one of the most memorable for four reasons. First, because on the day that I had to wash my clothes all the laundry shops seemed closed and I felt seriously threatened to put on used underwear. Second, because we group-toured a wine stockhouse and it was my first time to go to a wine-tasting (pic below). Third, because Oporto wine is sweet and has 20% alcohol content! Fourth, because it rained a lot even if it was summer.
Braga. This is one place I don't remember a lot about. I think it's got the usual churches and other historical stuff. We were supposed to go to Bom Jesus do Monte, a church perched on a hilltop, but we missed the city bus, which made us miss the funicular, which gave us no time to hike all the way to the church because we had already bought the tickets for the ride back to Oporto. To José María's disappointment, we just meandered around the foot of the hill. Here's a picture of the main plaza.
Summer backpacking 2006: Castilla y León
From Oporto, Portugal, we took a bus that headed eastward towards the Spanish region of Castilla y León, passing by the seemingly endless expanse of dramatic fields and cinematic sky views between the two countries (pic below). Spanish police conducted a short inspection at the borders, after which was a stopover at a highway restaurant, where, for the first time since the start of the trip, we had a complete two-course meal with wine and dessert. Something that simply wasn't the custom in Portugal.
León. The road trip from Oporto took about ten hours so we arrived in León at night. We went out of the hostel to take a walk and sat on a bench in front of the cathedral. Apparently deceived by my oriental looks, a Japanese couple approached us to ask me to take their picture. After the shot, the woman attempted some small talk and was surprised that I was talking to her in Japanese even if I had just told her I was Filipino. That incident reminded me how long I hadn't used my Japanese...whew! Here's a sample of what's inside the lovely cathedral.
Salamanca. In Filipino, the name of this place means magic, and indeed it is magical, for José María at least. He adores the place so much that he was at once incredulous and threatening when I told him it was somewhat visually boring. I thought Salamanca was lovely, but the uniform stone color of the buildings in the historic center was quite monotonous, unlike the varied hues of the old houses in Oporto. Here's a picture of the Casa de las Conchas, or the Shell House, which looks much better in picture than it really is.
Segovia. One thing that surprised me about Segovia (aside from its breath-taking cathedral, its 1st-century Roman aqueduct and the alcázar) is that it is so expensive. At lunchtime, we had a rather difficult time scouting for a place that would suit our shoestring budget, since most restaurants were offering a standard two-course meal at 20 euros! For the first time in Spain, I felt like I was in France! Right below is a picture of the very old but still standing Roman aqueduct.
León. The road trip from Oporto took about ten hours so we arrived in León at night. We went out of the hostel to take a walk and sat on a bench in front of the cathedral. Apparently deceived by my oriental looks, a Japanese couple approached us to ask me to take their picture. After the shot, the woman attempted some small talk and was surprised that I was talking to her in Japanese even if I had just told her I was Filipino. That incident reminded me how long I hadn't used my Japanese...whew! Here's a sample of what's inside the lovely cathedral.
Salamanca. In Filipino, the name of this place means magic, and indeed it is magical, for José María at least. He adores the place so much that he was at once incredulous and threatening when I told him it was somewhat visually boring. I thought Salamanca was lovely, but the uniform stone color of the buildings in the historic center was quite monotonous, unlike the varied hues of the old houses in Oporto. Here's a picture of the Casa de las Conchas, or the Shell House, which looks much better in picture than it really is.
Segovia. One thing that surprised me about Segovia (aside from its breath-taking cathedral, its 1st-century Roman aqueduct and the alcázar) is that it is so expensive. At lunchtime, we had a rather difficult time scouting for a place that would suit our shoestring budget, since most restaurants were offering a standard two-course meal at 20 euros! For the first time in Spain, I felt like I was in France! Right below is a picture of the very old but still standing Roman aqueduct.
Summer backpacking 2006: Extremadura
From Castilla y León (where the weather and the people were quite cold), we headed south to Extremadura where we felt again the searing summer heat. By this time both I and José María were already exhausted and looking forward to returning to Málaga.
Cáceres. At the heart of this city is a medieval town so little changed since the 15th and 16th centuries, it's worth visiting even under the sun's scorching heat. This town, often used as a film set according to Lonely Planet, is set apart from the rest of Cáceres in a walled space. The old buildings are all made of the red-brownish stone that you see in the picture below. We were there on a Sunday so the town was very quiet, I felt like I was transported back to the Middle Ages!
Mérida. I'd heard good things about Mérida even before, but all that went down the drain as soon as we got there. Aside from some major sights like the Templo de Diana and the Teatro Romano, the only thing that Mérida can boast is archeological ruins dating back to the Roman times. We gawked at A LOT of rocks -- or whatever's left of the settlements that used to occupy the city -- I almost wanted to study them. Here's a picture of the Teatro Romano.
Footnote: Well, that's it! Till the next backpacking trip!
Cáceres. At the heart of this city is a medieval town so little changed since the 15th and 16th centuries, it's worth visiting even under the sun's scorching heat. This town, often used as a film set according to Lonely Planet, is set apart from the rest of Cáceres in a walled space. The old buildings are all made of the red-brownish stone that you see in the picture below. We were there on a Sunday so the town was very quiet, I felt like I was transported back to the Middle Ages!
Mérida. I'd heard good things about Mérida even before, but all that went down the drain as soon as we got there. Aside from some major sights like the Templo de Diana and the Teatro Romano, the only thing that Mérida can boast is archeological ruins dating back to the Roman times. We gawked at A LOT of rocks -- or whatever's left of the settlements that used to occupy the city -- I almost wanted to study them. Here's a picture of the Teatro Romano.
Footnote: Well, that's it! Till the next backpacking trip!
lunes, agosto 07, 2006
Sleep
It's a little past 8 am in Malaga and I just got up from bed after five measly hours since I drifted into slumber last night, or rather, early this morning. For the past four weeks since I transfered to my new flat, my body clock has seemed to be bewilderingly odd if not completely altered. Every morning I wake up to a mild headache generally at around 9, and no matter how late I dozed off the previous night, watching TV, surfing the Net, or simply doing stuff in the four corners of my room, it seems that I am unable to sleep beyond 10 am. My consciousness snaps back into reality, autmotically it seems, without the aid of an alarm as if it were a timer-controlled machine itself that does everything painfully on the dot. Worse still, on certain days of ill-luck, I wake up to the unbearable noise of a neigbhor trying to start his shitty car in the parking lot below, right outside my room's fourth-floor window. It is the kind of noise that makes you want to drop a rock on the roof of his car, because it sounds like the pleading of a helpless pig about to be butchered at the break of dawn, but then you are not capable of such evil too early in the day. You just wish for his pathetic car to deteriorate into a state of complete malfunction.
You see, having to wake up early is rather unfortunate as I can't take advantage of the fact that I have nothing much to wake up early for these days. I'm taking a break from teaching English, something that I don't enjoy doing, and the rest of my daily errands do not generally require that I leave the house first thing in the morning. It would be nice if my sleeping habits could change before I get busy again. I would love to sleep like a lazy, pot-bellied father who burps and snores in his bed until 3 pm!
Today I have to go downtown to buy a battery for my digicam and a book to bring along for the trip. Time flies I didn't realize that it's been a year since I first backpacked with my travel companion, Jose Maria, and later tonight we will set out again to do exactly the same. I wonder what little adventures or misadventures we will bring upon ourselves this time...
You see, having to wake up early is rather unfortunate as I can't take advantage of the fact that I have nothing much to wake up early for these days. I'm taking a break from teaching English, something that I don't enjoy doing, and the rest of my daily errands do not generally require that I leave the house first thing in the morning. It would be nice if my sleeping habits could change before I get busy again. I would love to sleep like a lazy, pot-bellied father who burps and snores in his bed until 3 pm!
Today I have to go downtown to buy a battery for my digicam and a book to bring along for the trip. Time flies I didn't realize that it's been a year since I first backpacked with my travel companion, Jose Maria, and later tonight we will set out again to do exactly the same. I wonder what little adventures or misadventures we will bring upon ourselves this time...
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