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• Looking Back

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I consider myself lucky every day that I am only a few seconds away from streaming movies and documentaries online. Unlike in the golden days of physical piracy, when you had to go to Quiapo to catch up and buy old and new films on DVDs and CDs. Which, might I add, was an experience back then. After lining up at the street stalls, one would eventually find themselves digging through a pile of plastic DVD packages trying to find a good film. After you found a film, the store vendor would usually play it on a small TV to “test” whether the film quality was good and if it ran smoothly. We would usually buy about four (4) movies, which I would then watch repeatedly for the entirety of the week. Almost to the point that I would get scolded by my grandmother, saying, “You’ve already watched that.” Then again, we did not have cable TV, so what choice did I have?Although, if there was one film franchise that I repeatedly played, it would be Jurassic Park. I had a fascination with the franchise because, unlike my other DVDs and CDs, it came in a larger package. Larger package DVDs usually meant that the DVD contained more than one (1) film, usually a film franchise or a set of movies produced by an actor/actress. Additionally, the visuals for the first installment were nothing short of magical to me. I could still vividly remember hearing the satellite phone ringtone of the third installment and getting goosebumps. Obviously, playing the film repeatedly would lead to damage. It was my most damaged DVD, next to Barney, who, might I add, was also a dinosaur. It came to a point that the film would slow down and stop at a particular point, and my heart would start to beat faster and faster because the moment that I saw the DVD logo again, it was definitely a goner.

While writing, I learned that there in fact is a Dinosaur day celebrated every 1st of June

Well, it was rather different seeing dinosaurs in books than seeing them in real life, with actual skin, moving, with glowing eyes, and roaring right in front of you.

My fascination with dinosaurs did not end with the films alone. It had an undeniable impact on me.
I armed myself with some plastic Tupperware, plastic bags, a used toothbrush, a used paintbrush, a couple of wooden sticks, a few spoons, and my grandmother’s fabric gloves; I was ready to excavate my first dinosaur. I had a noble excuse for going out of the house when my grandmother asked, “Saan ka pupunta gamit yan?” (“Where are you going with that?”), to which I replied, “Maghahanap ako ng dinosaur [bones]” (“I’m going to search for dinosaur bones”). Eventually, I would find myself at a nearby chicken coop, since it was the only large, unpaved area in the neighborhood. I was unbothered by the chickens since I had a noble mission. After collecting a few pieces of bones, whatnots, unusual-looking rocks, and gemstones, I hurriedly came back to our house as soon as I could, ready to prepare my findings. I cleaned the bones and the other pieces of I-don't-know-what very carefully. Nothing beats the excitement of cleaning those pieces and seeing them in a much clearer form without debris and dirt. After cleaning them, I would dry them with my unused “Good Morning” towels and lay them on my bath towel on our dining table. Indeed, I got a few expletives; my grandmother was not happy about it. I explained to her that what I dug up were important and valuable dinosaur bones and gemstones. To which, I got other expletives, further adding that what I found were chicken bones and a piece of bone (beef shank) that is usually put in Bulalo (Beef Marrow Stew), and the gemstones that I found? Were but pieces of bathroom tiles and broken pieces of beer glass. I was not hurt, though, as I was still proud of my discoveries. After drying, I would display them on my study table beside the house entrance door and label them accordingly. Particularly, I would label the ones that I couldn’t guess with folded sheets of paper that said “Unknown,” and the others as dinosaur fossils, with made-up scientific names, the date of discovery, and my name.

While writing, I learned that there in fact is a Dinosaur day celebrated every 1st of June

“…to know what he ought to believe; to know what he ought to desire; and to know what he ought to do.”
– St. Thomas AquinasBack in seventh grade, while living in Las Piñas, I developed a habit of riding my bike around our village after school. These rides became a time for quiet reflection—an opportunity to process what I saw, thought, and felt throughout the day. I found joy in exploration and discovery, both of places and of thoughts.Among the many insights I gained during those rides, one stands out most: after every exam, I would stop by the nearby church’s adoration chapel. Initially, I prayed for good results, but I’d be lying if I said the cool, air-conditioned room didn’t help me escape the brutal midday heat. Even if my motives weren’t entirely spiritual at first, over time something changed. I started coming even when the air-conditioning was off, drenched in sweat, with no requests—just a need to pray and sit in stillness.This habit continued even after I moved back home a year later. I found new sanctuaries—places like the National Shrine of Our Lady of Lourdes or Santo Domingo Church, which I visited two to five times a week depending on my schedule and mood. This habit, I carried on into the pandemic (a story for another time) and even more so in college.

In fact, one reason I chose my university was its proximity to historic churches. The on-campus chapel, adorned with works by the nation’s greatest artists, was stunning. But despite its beauty, I found it difficult to pray there because of a strange buzzing sound inside the space. So, I developed a weekly pilgrimage of sorts: on Wednesdays, I’d visit San Sebastian Basilica just a short walk away. Thursdays were for St. Jude. Fridays, either Quiapo Basilica or my favorite—Montserrat Abbey at San Beda Manila. It’s the quietest place I know, where I go to clear my mind or brainstorm ideas. It’s become central to my decision-making process.I once spoke with Dom Gerard, the rector of San Beda Alabang, and we discovered we shared a similar reverence for the abbey. Despite its sacred stillness, the place was always stifling—no fans, no air-conditioning—making every visit feel like stepping in and out of purgatory. On the opposite end of the spectrum is UST’s Santísimo Rosario Chapel: bright, white, and fully air-conditioned. After major exam periods, I usually take a longer trip to the Antipolo Basilica—its higher elevation and crisp atmosphere offering a full mental reset.

Well, it was rather different seeing dinosaurs in books than seeing them in real life, with actual skin, moving, with glowing eyes, and roaring right in front of you.