A Night with the Opera Ghost

A week has passed and the Phantom of the Opera is still singing songs in my head. Youtube has been a constant companion these past few days as I repeatedly play tracks of the world-famous musical. Even during moments when I am busy with something, I find myself still humming the tune of "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" or "Point of No Return." Yes. I have the fever. And I am glad that I haven't been relieved of this affliction.

My sister and I were among the crowd who filled CCP during the September 30 matinee show. I reserved our tickets a month early and, not having a definite schedule of exams or requirements yet, chose a Sunday just to be sure that there won't be any last-minute complications. I was looking forward to the show ever since I took hold of those tickets and so it comes as no surprise when I became pretty nervous that very day of the performance. What if the actors don't live up to my expectations? What if the production is far from what I have imagined it to be? I was overthinking again. This could either heighten my admiration for Phantom of the Opera or end it altogether.

We were seated at the fourth row, center, of Balcony 1. We arrived rather early and so we waited for at least 15 more minutes before the audience settled and the lights went down. When I heard the voice of the auctioneer, I knew that an event of a lifetime is indeed transpiring right at that very moment. I tried to calm myself. It's Phantom of the Opera, no big deal, I feigned nonchalance. My nerves began to steady as I sat back and watched, as though I'm committing into memory every detail in case I decided to replay it once more. And then, Overture happened! The chandelier rising, the stage transforming, the organ resounding. I can't even begin to describe it! Let's just say five minutes through the show and I've already got the price I paid. Yes, it was that marvelous!

My Phantom of the Opera Journey

It was during my high school sophomore year when I had been introduced to The Phantom of the Opera. My roommate Ate Elisa brought her box of movie CD's and began endorsing each one of her favorites. No, she didn't rent it for money. She simply wanted to make a legion of fans out of us, her roommates. I remember her collection including Finding Nemo, Pride and Prejudice, and of course, Phantom. I wasn't fond of watching movies back then but I was too shy to decline her generous offer of bringing the Phantom CD home for the weekend. Not when she's too enthused. And so I did brought it home with me.

I invited my eldest sister to watch the movie adaptation starring Gerard Butler and Emmy Rossum with me and she gladly accepted. But when she heard the gothic and too-loud-for-her-taste Overture, she made an excuse to attend to something else. I guess my family has always found my music preference as queer. Too melodramatic, they say. (Michael Bublé and Josh Groban top my list, and I regret nothing!) Well, I like to imagine my taste is just too highbrow! :P

Anyway, digression.

I instantly liked "Think of Me," "Music of the Night" and "All I Ask of You," just because the melody is pleasing to the ears, and the lyrics heartfelt. But to be honest, I was a bit lost on the story. What I only picked up was that the deformed Phantom haunting the opera house falls in love and becomes obsessed with ballet-dancer-turned-opera-star Christine Daaé. He hides behind his mask and disguises himself as her Angel of Music, but only up to the point when he already trusted her enough to lead her down his lair and expose himself as someone real and vulnerable. Then there's Raoul (impeccable name of Vicomte de Chagny), Christine's childhood sweetheart who apparently is the new patron of the opera house. I bear witness to the love triangle, each guy trying to persuade Christine to choose him over the other. All the other details were a bit of a haze. In fact, after Masquerade, I paused the thing and took a nap! Well, I had no appreciation of such things back then so don't blame me. Although some scenes were quite unforgettable--primarily Raoul's proposal (All I Ask of You) and the Phantom's outcry (Reprise)--I still didn't quite like Ate Elisa's movie pick for me.

Fortunately though, I watched it a second time. That time, I have been more open-minded. I guess growing up expands your horizon and makes you more open to possibilities. So instead of relying on just the melody, I learned to delve deeper into the words. And imagine the treasure I've unlocked. The veil that shrouds the beauty from my eyes has finally been lifted. And it was liberating. Who thought Ate Elisa will eventually succeed in recruiting me in her phan-dom a few years later?

Down Once More

Choosing among all the brilliant songs of The Phantom of the Opera and picking one out to call it my favorite is not as easy as it seems. If the question had been posed some years back, my reply would immediately be "All I Ask of You." Why, with all those romantic lines and sweet melody, who wouldn't be moved? But years have passed and preferences have changed. The musical which was perceived by a younger version of me as only a complicated love triangle between a disfigured musical genius disguised as the Opera Ghost, his muse, and her childhood sweetheart turns out to be more than just that. And in my opinion, nothing else encompasses all the feelings this musical want to evoke better than "Down Once More" sung at the Final Lair scene.

I particularly love this song because it is where everything culminates, the final showdown between the Phantom and Raoul for Christine's love. It is filled with so much passion and intensity that a surge of emotions is inevitable whenever I watch or listen to it.

Back to the Pilgrim City

I could have just waited another month for our semestral break and save all the money and effort in going back and forth to the province. But I've already allotted a part of my allowance for the fare and luckily enough, there wasn't much schoolwork for that weekend. So I pushed through with my plans of going home in Naga. It's September, you see. And on that particular September weekend, the fluvial procession of Our Lady of Peñafrancia, lovingly called Ina by the Bicolanos and devotees, was scheduled to take place.

Festival at the Pilgrim City

My experience of attending fluvial processions of Ina is always unique every time. The first one was way back during my high school year. I was with Mama and Papa then. All three of us were new to the tradition and so we didn't know where to go or what to do. And so, we merely followed the flock of people. We ran (yes, feel free to imagine!) from bridge to bridge, hoping to catch a glimpse of Our Lady's passing retinue. Needless to say, the riverbanks and bridges were packed with people and we couldn't see a thing. Not seeing Ina can already be a reason to feel down, but there was just something about hearing all those people present shouting "Viva Divino Rostro! Viva la Virgen!" in unison while waving their handkerchiefs in the air which moved me. Clearly, it was the voice of faith, filled with conviction and passion. It was, then, that I became a devotee.

Post Reunion Thoughts

As more years slip away, the less frequent our high school batch gets together. Perhaps it's because we're getting busier, or the rendezvous is just a little far and inconvenient for some. But I can't shake off the possibility that it is also because we are having fewer and fewer things in common. Each one has walked his own path, met a lot of other people and had his own share of experiences. From that little part of the world which used to be our everything, we learned to branch out and discovered vast new places we'd never thought existed. Ideas filled the nooks and crannies of our mind, numerous events in our lives since graduation day gradually shaped us, and, unknowingly, we changed a lot since. The overlapping area in the Venn diagram of our similarities and interests grew smaller, the things we can talk about after a long time of not seeing each other became scarce. And during the reunion, when the inevitable awkward pause happens, we either frantically rummage our brains with a new topic to discuss, or just submit to the silence and wonder however did we grow so far apart.

Thank God there's still the memories we shared in our four years of high school. We could always come back to that. Although the reunion is characterized by usually starting off with inquiring what's new with you, it always ends in reminiscing what used to be for us. Exactly the logic behind our "out-of-place or OP game" every after a get-together. In this game, we group ourselves according to our sections back in high school--even Elective classes included! And it never fails to excite even the most unenthusiastic person in the group (who has no choice but yield to the group's whims lest he wanted to be "OP" and eternally branded as buzz kill).

Change is already a given but, at the end of the day, the Venn diagram will not cease to intersect.

On 'Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children'

"Stars, too, were time travelers. How many of those ancient points of light were the last echoes of the suns now dead? How many had been born but their light not yet come this far? If all the suns but ours collapsed tonight, how many lifetimes would it take us to realize that we were alone? I have always known the sky was full of mysteries, but not until now had I realized how full of them the earth was."

This line in Ransom Riggs' Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children was one of the musings of Jacob Portman, a boy who has always been fascinated by the stories told by his grandfather Abe--stories about Abe's childhood, the peculiar kids he grew up with, even the monsters they were running from--and the photographs he showed to prove them. But when Jacob realized that he is already too old for fairy tales, he was convinced that these stories were only made up. It was not until the day of his grandfather's death that he began to question again which is true and which is not, for on that same day he saw the creature common in the stories he dismissed as unreal. And for the days after the tragedy, that creature continued to haunt him in his dreams. This urged Jacob to set out on an adventure to find out what his grandfather meant in his last words, and perhaps uncover the truth behind all the stories.

The book combines prose and vintage photographs which is an effective technique in creating a fantasy world such as this. For me, it felt like I was watching a movie in my head, the pictures contributing a lot in setting up the mood.

On 'That Kind of Guy'

It is not an uncommon trend on Philippine television shows and in romantic movies where the leading lady, often projected as someone who is plain-looking, will attract a bad boy type. You know the formula; boy is the appealing type with a long list of pretty and insecure girls that are now history, girl is your typical manang who still can't get over her last relationship which ended n years ago. Then the inevitable happened: boy meets girl, girl meets boy. For girl, the meeting was nothing special--she's wary of guys his type, and she's just not impressed. Meanwhile, the seemingly ordinary meeting for girl was actually a pivotal moment for boy, for he is, for the rarest of times, actually in love! We, girls, do not understand however this happened and so we begin to openly criticize the story for being so typical. But deep in our hearts, there is a very small question mark: "what are the chances that this can happen in real life?" Okay, I won't delve deeper into that. You get my point. There is a story that we know how it will end, always. Mina Esguerra's That Kind of Guy is not an exception. It is predictable, story-wise. But, as they say, it is not the destination, but the journey, which really matters. This chick-lit novella was a journey I was willing to take.

One of the reviews is right in saying that it is hard to put down. Primarily because it is a short and easy read. But mainly because it felt like listening to a girl friend I haven't seen for quite some time and there she was telling me her fairy tale all at once.