Filipinas

Philippines is called "Filipinas" in Spanish.

In the afternoon of the 11th of February of 2022, I drank black iced tea at the cafe, which was full of standing students. There were Filipinas at two different tables. A stocky redheaded bearded man in grey ordered coffee. A big-bodied Hispanic entered to use the washroom. Later, I was the first customer at a brand-new bubble tea shop nearby, where I ordered taro oat milk iced tea and a blueberry cheese dorayaki.

In the early morning of the 27th of March of 2022, I was not the usual pizza junkie. I drank iced black tea and ate barbecued potato chips at the Lulu Island cafe. Two noisy Cantonese men were present. Outside, near the park, I saw a large orange thermos in a shopping cart. Some were promoting the Orange Dream, the fantasy of an Oriental conlang. Walking on, I encountered the French-Canadian Alex with his friendly Chocolate Labrador, Ellie. I reminded myself that there was also the Chocolate Dream of a fantasy conlang. In the late morning, I went to the pizzeria to eat two slices and drink a cold diet cola. I found out that Rose, the Filipina vendor, was about 9 or 10 years younger than me, so she alerted me that I should not use the Tagalog "po" reverential grammatical particle to her. My third walk took me to the pizzeria in the evening. I was drinking just cold diet cola, as I was watching the 94th Oscars on the big screen with sound off. Three young Filipinas came in to order. Later, I peeked into the new Japanesque SunTea Bakery, and the Purple Yam Mochi Soft Bread, selling at "9.5" Canadian dollars each, intrigued me. I might try it someday. The vendors spoke Mandarin.

It seems that many people at the Roman Catholic church on St. Albans Road, here on Lulu Island, like Interlingua. They know that I'm an Esperantist, as well as a Lojbanist. I'm Buddhoanimist. I was there at the "Clam Temple" this morning around ten, this 17th of June of 2025, maybe my 46th visit there this year. I was wanting to enjoy the void and silence in the grand worship hall, but two Filipinas were hammering at the electric organ, and the Filipino custodian was starting his vacuuming. The hall was empty, except for us four. I then headed to the Adoration Chapel, where there were more people, many of them Filipinos, praying in silence. It's a cloudy day today, but not drizzling. At home, I've been reading electronic books: The Jesus Incident, by Frank Herbert, a sci-fi book about colonizing the planet Pandora and a giant starship that thinks it's a god. I've read it already many years ago. I'm also checking a religious book, The Urantia Book, the Japanese version. As my right brain is more active than most people's, I read for texture rather than plot. I tend to read random pages. At Tim Hortons café, I enjoyed a Bacon Farmer's Wrap and Earl Grey tea with oat milk. I will be returning to enjoy Iced Coffee with oat milk.

It's a grey cloudy morning this summer day of the 22nd of June of 2025. Before dawn, I had a snack of two tofu fish cuttlefish corn potato tangerine pork rolls with strawberries. Around 8, I was at Starbucks café, there to drink Passion Tango iced tea, which contained hibiscus, lemongrass, cinnamon, passion fruit, pineapple, and so forth. I waited for my religious Baptist Filipino friend, Greg, who was there usually on Sundays at that time, but he didn't show up. Then, I walked to Tim Hortons café to drink an iced coffee with oat milk and eat a sausage English muffin. There were families. There were several ex-Soviet bachelors who spoke Russian. Before 10, I trekked towards the Roman Catholic church at St. Albans Road. I admired the bamboo grove and the Emerald Tree on the way. At the church, there were already some worshippers in the nave: many Filipinos, and some Hispanics and Cantonese. The Filipina nun in her habit was talking to some Filipinas in the lobby area. They were admiring someone's blue skirt, which cost 80 dollars. Today, this morning, many blue hydrangeas adorned the front of the nave, inside. (There is interest in Interlingua.) Yesterday and today counted as my 50th and 51st visits to that church, the "Clam Temple" as I call it because of its architecture. Some people wore beige, an interest in Chabacano. When I walk outside, I usually talk to rabbits in Lojban: "coico'o ractu" (Hello-bye rabbits!). I'm often like Dr. Dolittle.