Time

Saturday was my essentially last gig with Palabuniyan Kulintang Ensemble for a while at least. I've been slowly letting go of things trying to make time for other things, like a fast approaching big event in my life. I may find time some time in the future to return, maybe not, it was a good couple of years while it lasted. You can't beat getting a chance to listen to brass and bronze gongs ring week after week. And for that opportunity, I am grateful.

Being such a go getter, time has always been precious and limiting. But timing is just as important as time, knowing when it's time to move on and change direction.

It wasn't my best show. Then again it was a really long day. I did enjoy the Asian Arts Museum gig. We got to show little kids dance moves in Pangalay. There's nothing like getting a chance to play with kids. That gig was done at 3:30 and I had 2 hours to kill before meeting back up at ODC theater for the night's show, so I decided to explore the city a bit.

There was some kind of festival in Civic Center, which my its odiferous presence soon found out it was a ganja/crank/weed/marijuana festival. You could get high just standing there, a thick haze like a marijuana fog just hovered. Several stands selling hemp items, alternative medicines, pipes, and for 2 for $10 some enhanced baked goods. Two stages: one mostly bands, the other with several speakers preaching to the very high choir.

I didn't need to get a serious buzz before performing so headed to the Mission. Got off on 24th and walked my way back to 17th where ODC is located. There were less eatery places than I had thought there were. Perhaps it's because most of those restaurants are over on Valencia. I rarely walk the Mission during the day. I'm usually there in the evening for events. It's a totally different neighborhood by day. Most of the stores were discount shops: thrift stores, payless shoe stores, odd and end knick knack stores where you could get high off the smell of cheap new plastic and rubber.

Many of the shops are run by Asians who speak enough Spanish to close the deal on an item. I got a pair of cute tsinelas for $2. Inside there were several older Filipino women contemplating the floral patterns on kitchen curtains and fake flowers with light up fiberglass strands. Barely getting through the crowded aisles, it was the kitch that all immigrant households seemed to be made of: clocks that chime fake bird calls, fiberglass ornamental arrangements, and just about every plastic kitchen utensil you can imagine.

I stop at a Guatamalan restaurant for an order of tamales, which had a richer flavor wrapped in banana leaf than the usual corn wrapped tamales. Based on the menu, Guatamalans seem to like their soup and roast chicken.

Just past 17th, I stop in at Brendan Lai's Martial Arts Store. This spot has been here for decades and is a bit of must see place for various weapons, mostly Chinese swords. I hear if you're a regular, they might show you the even better stuff that they have in the back. I am not a regular and let myself be content with the showcase offerings. I did find some spears and staffs that I had been looking for that I might pick up on another day.

Walking through the Mission makes me want to walk the Fruitvale district in Oakland more often. Oakland always has the lesser known neighborhood cousins of SF: Chinatown, Fruitvale. Though the seedy reputation of deep east Oakland tends to overshadow anything that might happen in Bay View Hunter's Point or the rest of the city for that matter. Now that I have some time, I might just get a chance to do that.