TSUNAMI, REDUX
By: Iris P. Concepcion

There he is with his massive tusk, carrying a green chair atop his flapping ears.

Startled, I have seen his humongous brood inside the wild rubber trees, inhabiting the life of humans.

Elephants. They rule this area.

A son of my sister-in-law's sister was asked by this writer if there is a park in Takuapa.  He replied that it is still being developed.

He asked if I wanted to see the beaches. I said  "Yes."  The three of us glided ourselves in a motorcycle and explored this other dimension of the urbane forest.

Here, a lane for motorists is especially  reserved for humanoids with motorcycles.  We wheezed past elephant camps and schools and buses and trucks and wheezed just as fast as bullet trains.  I was told to wear a helmet which made me look like a car mechanic.  I thought it was silly but it made sense once we hit the gravel-ly roads.

Along the way, the elephant with a green chair on his head, munching grass leisurely, was on cue, prepared to face the digital camera looking  like a very serious Rodney Dangerfield.  I am very comfortable with these giant animals despite my bantam stature. I could not figure it out and bears no illusion to dissect this instant affinity.

This is the tsunami memorial area but no traces of disaster is apparent here. Khao Lak had resurfaced as an invigorating town and it had removed any traces of its disastrous experience.  It is filled with resorts and hotels; its surroundings a John Wayne scene template. I was impressed with its innovative store signages: "Good Goods", "Think Of", "Book Tree"  that made absolutely no sense at first glance.

Words run silkier through the gates of a futuristic wilderness.

These people know how to pay respect to their dead with the dynamism of encompassing, architectural heritage.

One could not miss the nuance; this ever evolving routes to creative roulette.  Bowing down to the forces of Nature with its dark secrets and little compartments of honey and frogs and butterflies.

This is a good, narrative style done in installation art. We had passed by champion taglines on the way back and rightfully so. The three-eyed men of restrained but justifiable conceit bearing the gifts of words, music and possibly, hypnosis, have come afront in their quest for explanations. They have more than parried; they have perpetually won over them by bringing the skeptics straight to where the vortex of action is. This is what we do; this is how we live.

We passed by a stall that always makes my eyes bright : a McDonald's outlet. We nonetheless dropped by Khao Lak's local 7-11 store. I bought four Mexican burgers done in homestyle barbecue and met a guy who asked me where I came from. I replied that I am from Planet Mars and he simply nodded. These things happen often in this side of the planet. His burger looked bigger than mine and that was the skit between us, meat chompers.

This is how Alex Garland had envisioned a modern nomad: leaving a path  with a changed view. My elephant taught me tenacity to accept surprises with tact.

I am caught in the middle of this transformation/ And I beg to differ, fifteen questions contain immediate perpetuation.

This begs for a novel chapter as the experience astounds beyond immeasurable margins.

Meanwhile.

I have seen this rough draft by a housemate lying on the table. She was writing a poem. She wrote:

"My journey continued with blessing in disguise 
I was bearing a life which suddenly disappeared
A life was sacrificed for me to realized many things about life
I felt sorry for my angel, and I thank him/her for the change have given to me
I felt sad for what happened between me and the man I love


Many there were really  things that a person must face
A situation that he/she must go through
Pains, fears, wonders, doubts and struggles must felt."

After listening to a kid being taught conversational English, I sat beside her and made her outpouring collude with some semblance of poetry.

I had inserted some words here and there and changed some for tonal bounce.

"A journey continues with blessings in disguise
I am wombing a life which suddenly disappeared
Sacrificed for me to realize many things about life
I feel sorry for my angel and I thank him for the changes winged upon me
Desolation awaits between me and the man I love.


Maybe there are things that a person must face;
Situations lived, felt and digested
Pains, fears, wonderings, doubts and struggles, converged."

I had asked someone if he could attach melody to the words. This is called evolution and it turns round and round and round.

P.S. I am extremely proud of the corn kids. Do not ask the writer who these are but they are never, ever porn without a societal feel to what is just, humane, creative and transformational. Drop the heels, dig the bus. Right  now, I am reading an original play titled "One" which is a serious comedy on cross cultures.