Waking up, I noticed having a headache. We crossed the Seine twice the day before to eat something and I was only wearing my Norwegian sweater hand knit by Synnøve, a blond nurse friend from Ålesund who’s been a reassuring angel in these pandemic. We rushed to the corner pharmacy and got a self test kit which showed we were positive.
Reading the news, there’s a city in France with more than 200,000 unvaccinated. And hospitals don’t stop emphasizing globally that 80% of patients with Covid didn’t get a jab. And I thought there was this light at the end of the tunnel already with terms of herd immunity now rising.
Why are some people just stubborn and hard headed? Did they hear about polio? I’m the baby boomer generation and have been through all the virus and vaccines imaginable. Thank God, for that and most of all prayers from Carmel Bacolod.
My father who cringed at cash donations in church was their doctor and being a true Ateneo boy would swear that the Carmel convent was the only place where prayers were being said all day. Let’s give a shout out for Carmel, Bacolod! Merci for the constant intentions.
Although talks of lockdowns in other countries are starting, France is still on red alert, using the Covid pass to gain entry to bars and restaurants. Masks are obligatory unless one drinks or eats. Everyone on the streets wear masks.
I still believe in First World efficacy and the contact tracing is excellent. And for all Our Lord’s mercies especially our Carmelites in Bacolod. Please stop giving them eggs and donate cash this time!
Being silent on their finances don’t mean they have no need for your cash. Every cent counts in prayers, n’est-ce pas? Carmel hugs to Mother May Salvatierra, who left a high position job in finance in order to enter this décalcifiée organization and has been leading this holy order in the Asian region. Bacolod is proud of you, Mother May.
The Pinault Museum has opened its doors last year but I took my time til the maddening crowd has gone. We almost had the whole place to ourselves. It’s signature oeuvre (which was a wax sculpture replica of a sixteenth century “Rape of the Sabine Women” by Giambologna) was strewn all over the huge dome area where I first watched Kenzo’s fashion défilé.
Now a tourist must-see, the $194M art museum reflects a Parisian sense of aesthete that makes the City of Lights the world’s premiere destination. The nine wax figures by Urs Fischer “Untitled” (2011-2020) are fitting metaphors for the passing of time.
The broken melted pieces on the floor pointed out to me that perhaps mankind has reached its peak with this pandemic and the world cannot cope up with the fast deterioration of humanity and order.
I also was impressed by the restoration of the 360 degree mural inside the rotunda depicting the extent of French global trade specifically made for the Universal Exposition in 1889. This museum was called the Bourse or Commodities Exchange when I arrived for the Kenzo fashion show in the 70’s and became the Chamber of Commerce before falling into disarray.
Sounds almost like the history of our Negros Museum, although it started as our Provincial Agriculture Building. Then, it became Bacolod’s Chamber of Commerce, right? Will Angie Urra Vda. de Berrie become our island’s Pinault?
MY PRAYER. Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken. Psalm 55:22, NIV*