"Life is short, eat pork" by Nina

Someone I respect and admire (from a distance) figured in a sad bus accident in Cambodia. She lost her right leg in this tragedy. It's a sad story that gave me one of the biggest shocks of my life. When I read about it online, I just couldn't understand why these things could-should happen.

Nina's a gigantic brilliant mind with a big heart (and a power J-Lo butt). At work, she makes things - miracles - happen. Over a few smoking breaks and a couple of encounters at Starbucks, I became a fan (SUPER LIKE!) because of her humility, sincerity, humor and wits. And she loves life. When we still worked in the same office, I'd imagine Julie Andrews singing "I simply remember my favorite things, and then I don't feel so baaddddd" whenever I'd see her.

Less than a couple of weeks after the accident, she posted this "note" FB. Even in tragedy, Nina continues to inspire everyone with lessons in healing, courage and hope.


The last day of my old life
by Nina Kristine Abad on Sunday, August 14, 2011 at 8:32pm
~Posted with writer's permission

It started out beautifully. I woke up at 7am, had a leisurely breakfast of (our favorite) stir-fried noodles with heavenly Cambodian coffee with a Pinay traveller, whom I met on my way to Siem Reap. She is on her way to Bangkok, which leaves me, for the first time. alone in my 5-day "solo" trip. I made plans with the hotel tuktuk driver, Vey, to take me back to the Angkor complex at 8:00am, with a rented bicycle in tow.

I don't remember feeling so calm in my entire life, the crisp wind on my face, both my feet up in the tuktuk, the promise of a whole day revisiting my favorite temples at my own pace left me feeling giddy. Ah, La Vie Boheme. My demanding yet so alluring mistress.

Vey dropped me off near the complex (cheater) so I can pedal my way to the Wat proper. I stopped for pictures, waved to foreigners and locals alike. When I arrived at Angkor Wat, I deposited my bike with Vey and braced myself for my first step towards my beloved Angkor.

I am not a spiritual person, still am not, but there's something about temples that moves me to tears. I decided to connect with the Wat not just emotionally but physically. I'm barefootin' my way today.

I picked up my trusted Havs and shoved it in my bag and took my first step on the bridge that spans the moat. I didn't care about the stares from some tourists. I'm not the one wearing a long-sleeved shirt over a Tshirt and a stupid hat. Or kitten heels for that matter.

It took me an hour and a half inside the Angkor Wat. The top part was closed since it was a Buddhist holiday, so less tourists today, yay! I tried to sit down and read a book or write somehting, until I realized my stupidity. Why bother, when you have the most beautiful thing around you. I had no concept of time, of space, of social conventions. I didn't care if people saw me cry nor did I care if they thought I was a lunatic everytime I touched the walls and sighed. I didn't take pictures either. Again,why bother? No camera or words are up to task.

Next stop, Angkor Thom to see my beloved elephants. Vey dropped me off at the entrance (majestic) so I can pedal my way inside. It was too late to ride an elephant as they already made their way up to the hill. To my surprise and utter delight, I caught glimpse of a couple of late-riser pachyderms on their way to the entrance. Kandarapa ako sa pagbaba to get a clear shot. I was in heaven. Elephants charging their way towards me, in their full glory, no ugly tourists on board. I admired their grace, their majesty, their utter indifference to those who are disgusted by their bulk or smell. Until I felt a hand grab me out of the way. A couple of Cambodian policemen looked at me sternly, mad that they have to rescue a stupid girl from being trampled to death by elephants (how will they file the paperwork). I smiled guilelessly and pretended to be an airhead idiot (it totally pays!)

Next stop, Bayon, with the numerous faces of Buddha. Lord, ang dame. I lost count when a cute-ish Amboy asked if I want my picture taken, probably noticing my one-armed shots. I obliged, then felt the crushing disappointment when people fail to guess that I don't want my distended stomach in my shots. Cute ka pa naman, nagtiwala ako dahil may SLR ka. He asked why I'm barefoot, I replied I don't need shoes. He just said "cool" then walked away. Cool mo mukha mo :-)

All kinds of things went through my mind as I explored Bayon - kailangan masama ko si Bebe dito, I wonder if they allow overnight camping here, if I got lost here, will people think my bones are part of the display, if the Decepticons came back to destroy this place, I'm gonna go postal on their junk ass. But as I've said in a previous status, there are things so majestic, so overwhelming that it only demands utter silence. You just have to take it in, with an open heart, and just be thankful you are there, alive, to see it.

A lot more things happened for the rest of the day. I found the stall of the Cambodian girl I met on the bus in the old market and got schooled on real silk vs polyester blend. She got mad at the wackjobs who ripped me off by selling me polyester blends, I said it's okay, my friends won't know the difference too.

Another highlight, I tired to walk my way back from Pub street as the map looks pretty simple. Just my luck, as I was about to turn on my last street, it poured hard. My handy-dandy HC red umbrella crumpled after a few minutes. I decided to wait inside a mobile shop for a few minutes but since the rain shows no signs of stopping, I thought screw it. I secured my phone and my camera (may they rest in peace) inside a plastic bag, and walked in the rain. It felt good, a fitting counterpoint to a perfect day. I had an "aw" moment when I reached the guesthouse and found out that my tuktuk driver,Vey, tried to look for me in the Pub street vicinity when it started to rain.

While waiting for my pickup for the night bus (cue music of doom), I had the privilege of having dinner with a new arrival, Wesley from New Yahk. He is a veteran of the banana pancake trail but was retracing his steps as an adult and a student chef. He talked to me about going to market in Pnom Penh for a cooking class and finding himself the only white boy in the whole market, people sizing him up if he has a camera crew in hand or he is just what he actually is, a lunatic with balls. He said he was deeply enraged why, when he is in the greatest city in the world, with the highest per capita income, and they have the worst food in the world. I shared my sentiment that the poorest places has the best food because they have no choice. They have to extract flavors from the meager resources they have.

Well, it must have been love but Wesley doesn't believe in facebook. We'll have always have Siem Reap, char.

To those who may ask, I didn't feel any foreboding before I left. I just felt peace, joy and was incredibly grateful that I experienced everything I set out to do that day. And no, I didn't have any regrets either. As my new motto, life is short, eat pork. And chocolates, and amok, and chicharon bulaklak and broccoli and yes, even hair if that's what floats your boat.