Sunday, October 26, 2003

Disneyland, the Land of Fantasy

Dear Mouse, A journal is a documentation of where we were at a specific time and a specific date. As I am writing this travel journal of mine about this magical vacation destination and the most popular tourist spots in the USA, I came across a picture of the only-with-dimple-in-a chin star of Spartacus Kirk Douglas taken in Disneyland. It must be several decades ago since Michael Douglas my favorite actor of Disclosure, Fatal Atrraction,Romancing of the Stone, Perfect Murder, to name a few was just a toddler. Several years from now, a descendant of mine may also fall to the habit of journaling, and she may find that cartoon characters and movie icons may have passed away but not Mickey, Donald, Pluto and the classic characters of the stories that end with and they lived happily ever after... It took me three visits in Disneyland to have this compulsion of writing down the memories that they claim to last a lifetime instead of just capturing them in video or still pictures. For how can one catch 1. the bliss of feeling young again...shrieking on delight during picture taking with Disney characters; 2. pensive mood of people who wish that their loved ones are there to share the excitement; 3. mood changes as the person go through the whole gamut of emotions from hysteria to anxiety discovering the magical world that come alive with sights and sounds, with colors and lights ; 4. or just feeling good to realize a childhood dream. once Upon a Time... There are two theme parks in the Disneyland Resort; the Disneyland and the California Adventure. In my last visit, there was only one. Since we got one day ticket only, we decided to spend it in the Disneyland park where the magic of storytelling begins. First things first, the Town Square, the Civic centre of the Disneyland community where one finds the City Hall. A place where lost parents, I mean lost children are brought for parents-who are-so enchanted-themselves-that-they forgot-they-have-kids-with-them-and-do-not-know-where-they-lost-them-hoping-they-did-not-fall-in-the-water-by-the-castle-of-Sleeping Beautiy. The sign said that it is completely functional as in "can they also perform marriage ceremonies? " or do these signs apply only to Post Office or to the Fire Department ? And of course there is the railroad station. It was still early that the train that brings the visitors around the park to get the glimpse of the eight theme lands was still empty. My " tourist" and I scaled the stairs that led us to the waiting station. The train operator and the diminutive conductor welcomed us, as we climbed the first car and seated ourselves in the bench that gives us ample view of the gates to the diverse entertainment attractions in the park. As I was seated in the bench, I decided to indulge in my favorite past time as well...people-watching...Hey you people, here I come....thought baloon...(hehehehe). Seated conveniently in the first row were two German ladies. How did I know that they were Germans. Well the language, was germane to me. hihihihi.One thing that I learned in my travels, Latinos always do their thing as one big family. So thus this family of seven that occupied one whole row; the grandmother who seemed to be chattering all the time; the mother who always carry a baby aside from the small children in tow that must have one to one and a half year age gaps and the father who is proud of his machismo dotes on his family like a rooster would to the chicken and its small chicks...what with all those kids as a proof of his virility. Ahhaaaaa, to my left were a mother and a daughter . Filipina sila sa ilong, sa kulay at sa suot. The daughter was wearing a HERBENCH shirt just like my "tourist". A popular local signature shirt like the US Guess and GAP. I waited for them to greet me first. None. Then I remembered, nobody thinks that I am a Filipina except when I blurt in Tagalog. Thanks to my father's DNA, I got olive skin ( kaligatan sa Tagalog o kaya nognog para sa mga salitang kalye) an aquiline nose courtesy of clothespin that my nanny clipped my nose to give me something to direct my attention while she read her favorite comics...and my deep set eyes...due to too much internet... Either they mistake me as Italian (read: Itali-yan) or a Peruvian or an Indian The Indian title is given to me together with a feather when I miss an appointment).. So, I said HI...Filipino kayo ? They did not respond. They merely looked at me. If I were not thick -skinned (makapal) I would have melted just like the way a butter melts on top of the hot pancakes in IHOP. I felt hot in my ears, stinging hot. It is a feeling when someone was food poisoned I liken myself to a cartoon character who got smokes streaming out of his ears and nose due to ire. But I am a CAT. I merely shrug off mga supladita after showing my fangs. Mewooorrr...huwag kayong magkamaling Magtagalog, tatapilukin ko kayo. Besides ang mga may pinag-aralang Pilipino, would greet any people with a language they are comfortable with. After the snobbery, I focused myself to our next stop, the New Orleans Square. Itutuloy... The CAT


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