Budji-Hype

Pre-halloween Spooky Discovery

2011-10-23T02:22:00.000-07:00

I went to research the paintings in this seminary (please see previous story). There is this very old religious painting, nearly 150 years old, of St. Anthony, The Abbot. This painting is said to be the work of Mariano Asuncion, El Menor (that 'Junior' for you 21st century people!) ca. 1865. But the painter's signature and date cannot easily be seen in this oil-work.

The story of this saint is very interesting, he was born in the 3rd century in Egypt. He decided to become a hermit to devote his time contemplating and praying for God. He gave away his inheritance and as an ascetic, he was tempted for 20 years by the Devil. He was tempted with different forms, afflicting him with diseases, boredom, laziness, even phantoms of women, elementals, scary shadows, poltergeist, etc. One day, as he was always successful with his resistance of all these trials and temptations thru prayers and his faith in God, the devil actually had him beaten by his minions. The poor saint was found nearly dead inside the cave he was living in. In the CIN website here was the story goes: "When he began to come to himself, though not yet able to stand, he cried out to the devils whilst he yet lay on the floor, "Behold! here I am; do all you are able against me: nothing shall ever separate me from Christ my Lord." Hereupon the fiends appearing again, renewed the attack, and alarmed him with terrible clamors and a variety of specters, in hideous shapes of the most frightful wild beasts, which they assumed. to dismay and terrify him; till a ray of heavenly light breaking in upon him chased them away, and caused him to cry out, "Where wast thou, my Lord and my Master? Why wast thou not here, from the beginning of my conflict, to assuage my pains!" A voice answered: "Anthony, I was here the whole time; I stood by thee, and beheld thy combat: and because thou hast manfully withstood thy enemies, I will always protect thee, and will render thy name famous throughout the earth." The devil then ceased to tempt he no more. He then established a monastery as his 'devotees' had increased. After establishing the monastery he went back to the wilderness. St. Anthony, the Abbot is said to be the Father of Christian Monasticism. (source: Catholic Information Network)

The painting I saw was partly restored yet more has to be done as the back of the canvas was nearly covered in molds. We placed the painting on a chair fronting an open window since we cannot take any photo with flash bulb. We first took a photo of the painting then the back part to document the condition of the canvas. I was interested of the parts where the restoration was done, we then took the photo of the painting with its back on the light-source: daylight.

Now here is the tickler, when we got home to my parents' house, I showed the photos to my sister, while we were intently looking at the 2nd photo, we noticed that more images of evils, elementals have appeared. And this 2nd picture shows about, as of last count, there are 6 more 'evil-looking' entities on the painting. There is even 1 more that seemed to have appeared on the back of the canvas!! From the front the painter has painted 7 including the yellow crocodile and the blond woman. The 'tikbalang' is more like a shadow but the figure of a horse still appears. Anyway, we think there are 6 more in the 'shadows' plus the one at the back!!

One can only surmise what was going on to the painter while this painting was being painted! That question wasnt raised by me, but of the person very much familiar to the painting. I had the same thought, mind you. If you are not convinced about my 'superstitious' findings (and not scholarly, mind you! So I hope I am excused by all scholars and academicians, esp. by my professor) I hope you will indulge me. Its just the 'gossipy' side of me thinking of these things.

So judge for yourself! Happy Halloween!

New Adventures! Back in Bicol

2011-10-22T02:33:00.000-07:00

My professor in Historiology of Philippine Art gave me the topic of my research project, to research and document the religious paintings at the Museo Del Seminario Conciliar de Nueva Caceres or the Museum of the Holy Rosary Minor Seminary of Nueva Caceres. Its was a bit daunting considering this project entails that I travel to Naga City and with a short a time to submission deadline, I had to take the challenge. It is good to note that current Seminary Rector obliged for my request and the Museum Curator was very welcoming to me.So for two days on October 12 - 13, 2011, I took my brother, Dino, with me to photograph the pictures. Our Dad wanted to come, as he is already retired and practically this trip was a welcome distraction for him. Dad took the measurement for the paintings. The following day my younger sister came along, and she wrote the information that we cannot take out with us.It was a bit amusing to see that I was with my family during the entire time of the research! We were filled with awe when we saw 19th century painting that dates back to 1865 and painted by the Mariano Asuncion, el menor (the younger as he was a junior) of the famous artistic family of Mariano Asuncion, el major (the father or the senior) of Sta. Cruz, Manila during the 19th century. If you are familiar with Justiniano Asuncion, was the younger brother of Mariano, el menor. My Historio professor, Proj. Santiago A. Pilar, opened my eyes to the beauty of our culture and heritage. I have sort of a connection to this mini-project of mine. I went to Colegio de Sta. Isabel high-school (noe University of Sta. Isabel) in Naga City in the 80's and I was an 'interna' for about 3 (was it 2) years. Being an 'interna' means that we were boarding inside the school premises, specifically the school's dormitory. It was like living at a boarding school, yet we were about less than 5% of the all-girl school, where most live with their parents within the city. I enjoyed my life as an 'interna'. We have to attend the in-house daily mass and also the masses said in school. The nuns who are the administrators of the dormitories and as strict as hell (or heaven?). Breakfast at 6am, lunch at 12nn, Lights off by 9pm. We only get to eat special food during major saints feast days. Since there is a saint being celebrated in the Catholic Calendar, not all of them counts. The nuns get to eat lechon (roasted pig, a favorite Philippine delicacy) during Mama Mary's birthday, while we get to eat lechon paksiw (stewed roasted pig left-overs) the following day. Breakfast was 1 egg (hard-boiled or sunny-side-up), 1 hotdog or dried fish and steamed/garlic rice. Bring your own chocolate mix or coffee. Inspite of that, we enjoyed every bit of it. We all go home on weekends to log our laundry with us.One day, my older dorm-mates prodded a nun, of the Daughters of Charity (I forgot her name) who 'works' or serves at the nearby Minor Seminary to bring us for a visit because we were curious how the seminary looks like inside... and of course, we were curious to see seminaristas inside their domain! (Ehem, that was actually the real reason why we want to go) It was fun 20-minute visit that the good sister did not want to prolong, as if we will be causing havoc or or incite a stampede among the seminarians!!! ahahhahahaahhaSo going back was especially nice because I was there to conduct a 'scholarly' research not as a curious colegiala. But memories flooded back in seeing the thick Moorish pillars that dot the halls of the seminary, the wide and strong wooden planks and the musty smell of molds on the thick walls. The whole project was an eye-opener and filled me with many ideas and for possible research for thesis. I don't know if I will take this direction in the future but the whole research project was a very good exercise and beginning. More on this story the next few blogs: Mystery and Awe!

Where's the *******(bleep) Art?

2011-10-22T00:31:00.000-07:00

I was mad. Mad as hell!!! Art is within me and my passions are boiling yet this "art" doesn’t want to come out. I was like a pregnant woman cursing for my baby to burst out of me. Why was my art not coming out? What bodily crevice or bodily part that I need to cut so the blood will sprout like a new spring... (enough of stupid pretentious metaphors!)

Where shall I begin? What are the processes to do to make art manifest itself?

Every Friday night is an agony. Like birthing pains... but the baby is not yet due!! Saturday morning is my graduate art class on ‘Non-Traditional Media for Art’. I must've took this class by mistake!!! I did not go through the regular basic courses. My professor is forcing me to find self-expression, yet I don’t even know my artistic self yet. Finding my artistic yet takes time. Having this class was like being at the throes of giving birth but I had no clue why I became ‘pregnant’ in the first place??? Is there a baby inside me? Is there art inside my head and heart? But the doctor has ordered me to be cut open and tomorrow is a Saturday... again!

I have still many questions on many issues... my classmates are not better than me, I do not see any artistic depth in them or perhaps like true artists they do not want to intellectualize their art, so I am not 'getting' any guidance! One classmate likes to grandstand and likes to blabber all the time without any intellectual concepts or arguments at all, all noise no substance... but a lot of my classmates like to stay quiet when called to say something and choose not to say anything. My professor does not teach at all... I cannot grasp what he is saying. He too cannot explain anything... :( we are usually left at our own devices.

While my classmates are either: noisy or space-out... Let me just do some 'planking' on these three stools while I try to find my art in my dreams (meaning: sleep).

I hate Saturdays!

Thoughts on San Tommaso D'Aquino

2011-10-21T23:36:00.000-07:00

I went back to school... to Graduate School to be exact. I wrote some notes since I started last October last year. Here's one of them:

Jan 19, 2011. 11am at home.

I have been reading on St. Thomas Aquinas (the Angelic Doctor) of of his philosophies, principles and arguments. Tomorrow is my midterms. My brain is coming into an overload but it also is experiencing intellectual indigestion.

I am left wondering that while I am in deep thought to the principles espoused by St. Thomas the people around me are so engrossed with their day-to-day problems. Am I in the clouds contemplating abstract ideas that has no practical application to whether what I will have for lunch today or I have acquired some knowledge that will make me more understand my day-to-day living? Does the Medieval philosophical concepts has any bearing in my 21st century life?? Arghhhh

The garbage scavengers who come every Wednesday and Saturday to dig through our neighborhood’s refuse are arguing about certain items. They are always loud and unruly. These people never could understand the abstract principles of St. Thomas, all they want are the things important for them. I, in my pretense of intellectual understanding, could not easily grasp St. Thomas philosophies. (Please note that at certain moments at this time, I envied those scavengers downstairs because they wouldn't be filled with trepidation in answering 8 philosophical questions that may lead them to write back-to-back of 8 pages of ruled-yellow paper! No thanks to you Prof. Michael Vasco, my black pen died on me between question 6 and 7! ha ha ha)

But is it not what is important to all of us happiness and contentment? Deep in that garbage, provides food for these people. Out of that muck comes some form of remuneration for their deplorable yet admirable efforts. At the end of each day, a good income may provide a food on their table, perhaps enough to get them by and enough to soothe a grumbling stomach. And when they sleep perhaps dream of better things. Then tomorrow is another day. St. Thomas’ is somewhere deep in that process of living.

I realized in my readings and my simple understanding of St. Thomas, that faith and reason goes hand in hand in understanding God and life. Also that 'knowing and believing' are intricately woven together and either one can do one without the other. So faith and reason with knowing and believing are important in understanding not only the spiritual realm but also the challenges of our lives. I only have to connect clearly these abstractions to concrete examples of my life.

St. Thomas Aquinas led a very interesting life and his intellectual triumph (both when he was living and after he died) cannot be summarized in this puny of a blog, so dear readers Google him. I am sure you will find far better discussions on his writings and philosophies.

"Better to illuminate than merely to shine, to deliver to others contemplated truths than merely to contemplate." - St. Thomas Aquinas

Note: I am thinking the above concept may be a good jump-off point on my final paper on St. Thomas this March.

Oh My HOLY Week!

2010-04-18T09:18:00.000-07:00

My Maundy Thursday this year was filled with a semblance of religiosity with satisfied stomach. Hubby is nice enough to take me to do "Via Cruxis" to several churches near our place and then to Old Manila.

The itinerary went this way:

a. Our Lady of Lourdes Church - Amoranto St., Lourdes, Quezon City
b. Sto. Domingo Church - Quezon Ave., Quezon City
c. Sto. Rosario Church - inside the University of Sto. Tomas grounds
d. Loreto Church - Bustillos St., Manila
e. St. Anthony Church - Beside Loreto Church, Bustillos St., Manila
f. Manila Cathedral -Intramuros, Manila (Old Manila)
g. San Agustin Church - Intramuros, Manila (Old Manila)

For anybody who is planning their own itinerary, my advice is to do Manila Cathedral and San Agustin Church last. We really intended to do the food trip at the end. Some years ago, when we started doing the "via cruxis" we chanced upon an "Wow Philippines" event where there are caterers lined up in that street towards San Agustin. Nowadays street hawkers are the one providing the street food for all the "penitents". I, for one, was a happy penitent, if there such a word.

After finishing the 14th station of the cross and the final prayer, we started our food trip at the courtyard of the San Agustin Church with sweet potato sweet fries, then we moved on to the native delicacies such as rice cakes (Biko) with coco-jam topping, varied color rice cake (sapin-sapin) and bibingka. The next in the fare was grilled plantain bananas smothered in margarine and white sugar. A few steps away, we were tasting the dried squid.

You would think that we were satiated by then? No Sir! We knew that the fishballs and squid balls were the last. We found a hawker in front of the Cathedral. We had to wait for a little while because they have only finished setting up their wares. We were betting that these vendors were there for the long haul. We ate our fishballs by the fountain in front of the cathedral. I was imagining that we were somewhere in Italy enjoying a cool night while eating cheese fritters (is that even Italian?). A sweet soya drink (taho) came by and I could not resist having a cup. After a cold drink of bottled water, we went our way home. No more dinner for tonight then.

It was tiring but very good in many ways. Parking generally was not a big issue as we manage to be ahead of the throngs. I noticed that most of the cars were jostling for a parking in front of the cathedral. The secret that we knew of is this pay parking beside the Fort Santiago. It seems we were the only one who knew where to park.

The New Form of Activitism: Perlas and De Los Reyes

2010-03-31T18:44:00.000-07:00

One time, Hubby was doing the eating while watching a replay of a Presidential debate "Harapan". When it was Nicky Perlas turn, he commented that the new faces of activism are Nicky Perlas and JC De Los Reyes. That the Satur Ocampo's or the Lisa Masa's are the activism of old. I told him that his point of view is very refreshing.

It is my opinion that although I like the advocacy of Nicky Perlas, but gunning for the position of the President of this land is like the story of "Don Quijote" or known for its long title, "The Ingenious Hidalgo Don Quijote from La Mancha" by Miguel Cervantes. Both JC and Nicky Perlas do not have a machinery to back them up and there is no way they can win the position. I would have voted for both of them if they have their own respective party-lists to represent. I would have also actively campaigned for them. But the fact that they are the "little men" running for the highest position of the land is a true exercise of democracy and I applaud their efforts!

Surely, winning may not be the result of all the efforts they have been doing for the past months. But win they surely will! After the campaign and election, their advocacies in the environment and corruption and their respective personalities will be easily be recognized by many people. The free press publicity they get from the TV networks, newpapers, radios and other forms of media, such as this blog, are enough to make them recognizable by many Filipinos. They will get a good name-recall. Having their own personalities results to a "believability factor" that even people in the streets would agree.

I would like to see more of them, not the old guards of activism, such as Satur Ocampo and Lisa Masa. Who, incidentally, have chosen to run for the position of Senator this election. The fact that they choose to run under the banner of Manny Villar is good enough reason for me to "go" the other way. The Old Activists' way have always been taking their issues in the streets or taking it to the mountains. Frankly, when there is a rally in Mendiola, they get less symphathy their causes and issues from the other segments of society. Although, admittedly I am not a part of the society that they are representing, their issues are not my issues. Yet, I do not feel that the street rallies are the most effective way of pushing for change.

Technology and new issues are the way to go in the 21st century. They kids of this century do not have any feel for the issues of the people who are rallying. Case and point, the recent incident at PUP where the students burned school properties are sort of bordering trite and banal, that was an opinion of a few of my students. My own students would only wondered why and went back playing their own respective PSPs. To get the attention of young people like my easily-distracted-students, one should have the proper technology and way to make them more aware and active in the present societal issues of the day. Burning stuff and rallies are not attractive to them.

Perlas and De los Reyes will be affective if they have a back-up plans after this May 10 elections is over and done. They should continue their advocacies as the new faces of activism and opposition.

Photo credit: http://www.gmanews.tv/webpics/infotech/perlasjc.jpg

A Case of Transference

2010-03-18T17:24:00.000-07:00

This month I heard twice from two different people, once from a total stranger, that they can see and feel that I look happy. Well, that is really the truth, I am happy. There have been a few bumps along the road, there were things I am not happy about or some little irritants or some things I get angry about. But almost every night I turn in, I am thankful. When I wake up, I say my gratitude. Its very "the secret" isn't it? But it helped me a lot to just "be".

I guess when one is happy, it shows through. But when one is also sad, it also shows through.

Last December, I met someone who was I can generally classify as "perky-happy". There was nothing to indicate that that she was undergoing any depression. After each of us went along our own way, I felt a heavy feeling that I did not know what was the reason for it. I initially thought that the season must be getting me down. I somehow suspected that she was the reason for the heaviness but I had not logical reason to explain what I was feeling. There was a "wall of pall" when I came home. I was manage to shake it after a night of fitful sleep.

Then, I still saw her for another meeting but I had to keep it short because I don't want to get that heavy feeling again. The perky-happy mood was still there and I still felt the same feeling of heaviness even for a brief meeting. A few months after the first meeting, little did I know, that she was undergoing depression. The perkiness was a mask to what was happening inside. I could only say to myself, "I knew it!".

I guess there was a "transference" of whatever that person was feeling. I think I was attuned and open to others' emotions that evening. I may not like it but I was an unintentional recipient of transference, looking back this was not the first time I've had it, but the feeling of gloom was very strong from this woman. A friend said that I may have a gift. I don't know what you call it, but right now I do not know if I have any use for it. I sure do not like to be absorbing people's bad emotions and problems.

But I will keep the gloom at bay, I will be happy today. I think it is wise to decide everyday to be happy so that I can 'transfer' that feeling also.

Its A Holiday

2010-02-22T01:58:00.000-08:00

Im in my old sweat pants, relishing the extra day of an extended holiday. Today is the anniversary of the People Power that happened more than 2 decades ago. Since I teach school and I have 2 subjects on Mondays, I am home doing other things not related to teaching and languorously sipping my green tea.

I hope everybody is happy as me this Monday.

Chinese New Year Weekend

2010-02-19T17:54:00.000-08:00

(Written last weekend) Im excited that this weekend there are many happenings:
1. Its the Chinese New Year weekend.
2. Valentine weekend
3. Winter Olympics weekend.
4. Our DLS-Cooperative General Assembly. Our annual dividend checks release.

This afternoon, I took my sister to Chinatown. It was her first time so it was exciting for her. Chinatown was buzzing with the Chinese New Year fever. Many Pinoys are there to buy all those Fung Shui charms. Honestly, I was also there to buy charms. I never done this Chinese New Year thing before, but for fun, I bought the necessary things as instructed in the list of Dr. Siy.

Let me run down the things I bought: a small crystal ball, golden Wu lou/gourd, a small laughing Buddha, several I-Ching coins for me and my siblings, Huat Ke mamons, incense sticks and 1 golden gold bar. I could have chosen the plastic gold bar which was really cheap, but I figured I could go back and buy a piece every now and then. A trip to Chinatown is something I would like to do this year.

There you go, if there is a new year's resolution for the Chinese New Year, I guess this is it for me! ha ha ha

We walked from the LRT-Carriedo Stn. After dropping by at the Sta. Cruz Church we made our way to the Ongpin St., We saw the fountain in front of the Church with all its wonderful glory. For a split second, the sight of it felt like I was in Europe! Then a few steps away the whole journey along the Ongpin St. was like being in a backstreet in Hong Kong.

I made a mental note where to eat our early dinner. Although my dear sis was gung-ho on where to eat, but knowing that her stomach is not as strong as mine, I had to make sure that she would be comfortable with the place and the food. I wanted to try the Cafe Mezzanine owned by the Eng Bee Tin Hopia Store. But it was filled with people having their fill of noodles and a long line has formed outside the store. I was extra amazed that the lines at the Eng Bee Tin store was even much longer! But we ended up at the Mr. Ube Noodle Store, which is incidentally is still owned by ... you guessed it, Eng Bee Tin.

I must have read this stores owned by Eng Bee Tin owner, Mr. Gerry Chua, the original Mr. Ube guy. But at that time, my memory was not functioning well because I was hungry. My sister ordered the chicken noodles soup. I tried the Mr. Ube Specialty, having no idea how it looks like, I prayed to the noodle god that it would be alright. It turns out to be a nice seafood noodle dish. Tasting it brought me back to the scent and taste of Guangzhou.

A dragon dance troupe started dancing in front of the store. One of the young dancers gave me an "ampao" (red money packet: used for good luck). We slipped in a small amount and handed back to him. He told us that it should be offered to one of the dragons and we did, we got to rub the cheek of the dragon! The boys in the dance troupe are not over than fifteen years old. The boy inside the head of the dragon was not over than 12 years old. My sister was very thrilled with the whole thing.

So tomorrow I will try this Chinese New Year ritual.

Backstory of the Dr. Freddie Siy's Instruction Sheet: I was at the photocopier some weeks ago. There was this sheet of paper on Fung Shui on the counter. While I was waiting for my turn, I began reading it. Then an old guy beside me said that I can have the instruction sheet. He then told me the story how his sheet has been going around in the Metro Manila. He is spreading it for free, of course the sheets are great but traditional marketing tool! I was amazed that the store where I bought my charms from were giving away the sheets and at the same time the owner was giving free Fung Shui advise. Then when I went to the oldest bakery in Retiro-Mayon area, they were also giving away the same sheet!

My Mole-skin(e)

2010-01-15T00:18:00.000-08:00

I am now a Moleskiner.

Whattttt? Whazzizat?

I am a proud owner of a moleskine sketchbook. A very pricey sketchbook I might add. But I have been dreaming of owning one since I chance upon it at a trip in HK sometime ago. Yesterday, I was at the National Bookstore at the Trinoma, I saw the mini-exhibit of a call for entries for the "my detour" event. I inquired of the deadline of the competition, I was disappointed to know that it ended last December. My dreams of having my sketches exhibit was easily dashed by this very charming and ditzy sales girl ;(

But the sketchbook in my hand was the last piece in the whole store! I finally decided to buy it against my pocket's wishes. I felt that I deserved a gift for a surviving a challenging 2009.

The first entry on this new treasure of mine was a Filipino Chicken recipe (Pinatisang Manok) from the "Kulinarya" book at the Powerbooks. When I got home, I started doing doodles in it. It was fun considering I did doodles employing the automatic drawing technique. I let my hand had fun on the pages.

I am just in the first few pages, a concept for the whole thing hasn't come up yet. But I plan just to have fun and let my creative mind and heart go its own way.

Learning for Art's Sake

2010-01-12T18:53:00.000-08:00

Teaching and learning about design and art history always fascinates me to no end. But sometimes I get frustrated when my passion in art history does not get absorbed well by the students. Yes, there had been frustrating moments when some of them fail to meet the requirements that I set when they make their respective researches and reports.

But when I am able turn their disinterest to interest by telling the stories of great artists such as Vincent Van Gogh or Leonardo (I do it with such drama that all eyes are on me, as if they are watching a suspense film) then I know they would leave my class knowing why these guys are two of the famous artists of all time.

I always feel triumphant when I am able to turn my students from mere spectators in the classroom, to people who would go "whoa!" and react nicely to Mark Rothko's paintings of squares of colors (see above painting)! Or to Clifford Still's painting that sort looks like peeling wall paints, saying its beautiful. Or when they find beauty and dynamism to the wild splashes of paints on the canvass by Jackson Pollock!!! They even found "The Thinker" of Auguste Rodin as hilarious (inside joke, don't ask). I tell you, I was beyond trilled hearing them react to the paintings and works! Reactions like that tickled me to no end.

When its their time to judge each other’s action painting, the reactions varied from ohhs and ahhs to shouts of amazement. I guess, as a teacher I get to pump my fist in triumph and say ”YES!” or take a bow for a job well-done (applause please!)

Our second term has just ended last Monday and next week is the last and third of the school year. My recent history classes were full of challenges and at the same time fun. Making each clique compete with another group really helped buoyed the interest of the students. Friendly competition did them well. In turn there were many outstanding outputs and very good grade for most of them. I never had so many students that got in the level of 92+s final grade in a class of 40 students. It was a proud moment for me and yet they are moving on to far greater challenges.

I wish my dear students (Hartds 1/DFS3, Hartds 2/DFS2 and DFS3) greater learning through their challenges in their respective courses and success in general. I know that when they left my classroom they now view art history, and life in general, with a new eye and passion.

Applause to the students! Bow

The message for me today.

2009-10-17T20:08:00.000-07:00

"On this day of your life, Budji, we believe God wants you to know ... that God has an important purpose for you, and made everything possible for you to succeed.

That's not to say it's an easy purpose, or a convenient one. It might very well seem hard or even impossible, but it only looks that way. The truth is that one day you will look back and see how all the pieces fit together. And how your life has been a complete and utter success."

Whoa, this is enough to validate my dreams and make me get up and so something good for my soul. You should so something good for you soul too, today is Sunday. Live your life!

Voice

2009-10-17T03:29:00.000-07:00

When the struggles has kept going, when my doubts are plaquing all the crevices of my brains, when I got lost finding my way back to me... I stop. I stop from making another step. from making another movement. I only breathe, breathe in and out, breathe in and out.

I turned 41 last month, nearly 30 days ago. We spent it on an out of town trip, which was nice. Yet, I felt hollow inside. Was I happy, not really... and then, the deadly typhoon struck a week after my birthday. We were ok, our area was on a higher part of the city. But the devastation was too much for many. There was a raw feeling inside of me that got me feeling scared and questioning. Something happened that Sunday. Too painful to even tell.

With it, the anger came back, hollowness became deeper, doubts clouded my heart. The comfort that I have been feeling for many months now have been stripped away from me. I was in the state of panic and of rage.

I wanted to leave my present life, go somewhere else far. The kind that a Schengen Visa is required and a place where they eat lots of prosciutto hams and Mozarella. Somewhere there are rolling hills of wheat or vineyards. Or when I look up out of a window I see a grand castle nestled on top of a hill. Oh... that’s me dreaming again. OK, just anywhere that I can go and no semblance of my life can be seen. I wanted a simple window to look at, to be somebody else. But with the present circumstances, none of that is possible. So I had no choice, but to let things be. Breathe in and out.

A long-lost friend gave me my a way out. This friend whom I have been very closed with some years past, is now found again. She has literally found her way out of her emotional mess of questioning her identity. She took the high-road literally and found herself, her true freedom, her wings. She had a radical way that might not be applicable for many, but the crux of her story is very basic: she found a way not to live someone else’s definition of what life should be. Even if it meant leaving her church. It does not mean she has become an Atheist, but more so of becoming more God-centric. She is now happy and free.

Today is her birthday.

She taught me to seek my inner truth by starting my quest with a prayer. My prayer now is “Lord, what do you have me do? Please show the way and I will follow.”

I have not yet seen the end of my tunnel, to be truthful. But the small voice in me is clearly telling me where to go. This, in spite of the questions and pain that I am now feeling, is my guide to the truth.

Thank you dear friend, M, for leading the way. And Happy birthday.

Reunion Thoughts

2009-03-25T03:54:00.000-07:00

When I went back to my high school for our Silver Jubilee Alumni Reunion.

I had the choice to go back to my insecurities. I never hang-out with the popular girls way back then. Now it seems that during the preparation and dance practices, I felt there was a bonding among us.

I was never really popular in school. But I was also not unknown. I just knew I had the talent that differentiate me from the rest, I am artistic. I was also never a popular. I prefer to hang-out with like-minded people. Like this informal group that loves to eat, so we would go out to eat after school.

So how come now that I am “hanging-out” with the popular girls? I am because by geographical grouping, we belong to the same area, which is Manila. It was not really by choice. But have they changed? Or was it my perception has changed? They are now more successful in their own careers, more moneyed and well-traveled. They are confident of what they have become. Here I am, nearly broke because my freelance design career is floundering same as my teaching career. But would that be a reason for me to feel insecure of myself. I have come a long way and have grown emotionally that I knew I have come on my own. True, these girls are wearing the jewelry that I was ogling from a jewelry shop window last year, or they’re carrying the latest “it” bag or the latest designer frocks or expensive pair of sunglasses. I have none of these, but these things did not really make me feel inferior.

I also noticed that these girls, although moneyed and successful they are, also have matured. They know now how to treat other people as their equal. I have felt that nobody really treated me as invisible. I now exist. True there are still divas in the group, that can not be help, they were like that before. But I observed a marked maturity among these so-called popular girls.

Personally, I never felt inferior or awed by any of them before and especially not now. But I can now appreciate that we all have emotionally grown. During the preparation and practice, nobody really put their weight around, everybody helped willingly and even contributing bigger than the set amount for each of the member of the group. We all enjoyed being together that even Saturday practices extends to overnighters. Which was really fun!

Going home to our alma mater, I was surprised that I also encountered some of our old mates who have not really changed at all. Some even grown to wear their insecurities and hang-ups on their sleeves. Some have snide remarks of how others tend to show off their expensive stuff around. Of course, being a designer with a discerning eyes I know each bag or accessory they were wearing and, again, I was not awed by it. I do admire them but not blown by it. These popular women were just acting how they are in their daily lives, acting naturally and normally. They did not really cared how people reacted to them. If some of my old friends got insecure by observing other girls flaunting stuffs, then it shows where they are in their state of life or maturity. These things were just that... stuff.

I for one, have little time to feel anything bad about other more successful classmates. I was just happy to see them again. Whatever financial state they were, for me, everyone was in the same level as 25 years ago, all high school girls. No one was more successful, no one has really made a name outside the four walls of our school and no one was more confident than everybody else. Everyone had their own insecurities and fears and like everybody else we were the same wide-eyed innocent girls. I may not remember all their names and faces but I was just happy to see them, successful or not, wealthy or not, married or not, happy or not, pretty of not. I am sure, there were many who felt the same.

I came to the reunion with this thoughts in my head: If I had my old self filled with immaturity, insecurities and envy and I let it get the better part of me, I wouldn’t have enjoyed a minute of our fabulous event. Because I would endlessly criticize whatever others wore or said or everything. I knew I had a choice, and I choose to be open with my heart and mind and leave all the negatives behind. I guess that is what growing up means.

Happy jubilee year, Batch 84!

My Grandma, Quita

2009-03-03T22:59:00.001-08:00

I grew up in my childhood home with my maternal Grandparents. My Mom does not cook, so it was Mama Quita who lorded over the kitchen. We used to call her “The Warrior” because she had a terrible temper and can injure or kill anyone with her kitchen knife. Not that she had killed anybody before, but I heard that she went after my Grandpa with her knife after a fit of jealousy, but that's another story.

But then, I digressed. Mama Quita was a very good cook. I remember her making hotcakes, pancakes these days, from the scratch. This was before the add-only-water-mixes of late. She got the recipe by overhearing a conversation between two mothers. She came home and cooked fluffy hotcakes for a Sunday afternoon snack. Her signature hotcakes also became a special breakfast for us kids.

Mama Quita had a special technique of making us kids eat our vegetables, drink our milk or even making us appreciate special “adult” food. She would whisper to my ear and say that she has prepared a very special food just for that day and I would be the first to taste it. Sometimes she would tell stories about that specific fish caught in the nearby river. Early on, I know how to eat water snails or fried cat fish or stewed shark or sting ray. Even before I see that special dish I can’t wait to taste it because of the stories my Grandma told me. Mama Quita cooked very special Bicolano dishes, which was similar to Thai Dishes. Bicol cuisine makes use of coconut milk and hot chilis, which one variety is called Diablo. You can imagine how hot and spicy it can be! No other region in the Philippines use fiery chilis, only in Bicol.

I guess she was the reason I can truly appreciate food. At a young age, I was very interested on the story behind each dish I taste. Too bad that I do not know how to cook the dishes Mama Quita used to make. Whenever I travel, tasting local food is something I do because it is the cheapest way of experiencing local culture. In my travels around the world, I have tasted snake soups in China, Eels, Escargot, and other exotic dishes. I do not shy away from anything that is served to me, yet I draw the line from dog-meat!

Hateful Cats

2009-03-03T22:53:00.000-08:00

The cat keeps pooping at our front door for several times now. We dont know what to do?! There is a new dog, who incidentally is not ours also, who is not stationed at the gate the cats used to stay. Im getting pissed but simply helpless.... help!!!!!!

A radical solution was suggested by my husband, who incidentally does not like cats or dogs, that we kill a cat and drew blood on our front doormat so the other cats wont be coming back anymore. I don’t know if the cats will get the message. But there are big problems to this solution, first: I don’t know how to catch a cat, second: I cannot ever kill a cat, poor thing. My husband doesn’t have any clue either, on how to kill a cat! I would imagine them getting their revenge on us by pooping more... or when I am walking home to our apartment that they would converge in the streets and (gasp!) ambush me! Or worse, calling in Catwoman to seek their vindication to the murder of their kin. OMG! What would I do now??

The other less radical solution to this problem is to spray our front door with household cleaner on a regular basis.

And the most practical yet expensive is to buy a cat/pet deterrent spray.

Being not a cat-person, I do not have any clue why they are doing this to us. In the meantime, I have got to have time to clean the poop in my front door. Yikes!

Cristo Rey in East Timor

2008-09-10T04:46:00.000-07:00

This Cristo Rey (Christ the King) Statue was built in the 1980's. Apparently this is the second highest statue of Jesus Christ after the original one in Brazil. It is a hike up there, but the scenery overlooking the coast of Dili, East Timor is breathtaking. I recommend that you go there when its sunset. Its a nice place of contemplation, the path towards it is used for the Via Crusis (Way of the Cross) during Semana Santa (Holy Week). East Timor being a former colony of Portugal is a Roman Catholic country.

East Timor Impressions

2008-09-02T23:11:00.000-07:00

Going to Dili filled me with anticipation as well as apprehension. It was like going to a desolate island with nothing much to expect, nothing to see and nothing to do. When the plane was making a turn to land, my topographic impression of Dili, East Timor was a bit depressing. It was not green at all, dry and almost barren. This is must be the feeling when one goes into a desert in the middle-east. The land looks almost arid except for a few trees here and there.

Surely enough, when we were driven out of the smallish airport that was no bigger than a provincial airport say Cotabato City, all the dust followed us. Near the exit of the airport property were poorly kept refugee tents of the 2006 civil unrest. We were told that the people seemed to like their free food and accommodation set-up that is why no one likes leaving the place.

Along the dusty national road of Comorro Ave, we passed by a couple of Filipino restaurants. I find it surprising to find some of our intrepid compatriots have set up business catering for their fellow Filipinos. I heard there are about 1,500 Filipinos in East Timor doing various kinds of work, from peacekeepers or UN police to business owners like Barbie and Melody, two gay-guys with their respective businesses (more on them later).

Going to the coast was a nice experience. The unspoiled beauty of East Timor has opened up to us. The beach was clean and inviting. Seafood restaurants dot the beach. The food was fresh and delicious. The sea breeze was strong with none of that briny smell.

We knew there is more to discover of this intriguing island.

A Ride in the Park

2008-08-30T01:59:00.000-07:00

A bicycle ride outside the Mueller Museum in the Netherlands. That is my friend Valeria Vallarta - Siemelink. Looking at this photo I took early in February this year, I remember that I had to use a small bike (for kids!) because I cannot ride the bigger bikes that Dutch people prefer. But after a short time, I got the hang-of-it. Valeria and I do not really like riding bikes, as we both had a nasty experience spilling and getting nasty bruises on separate ocassions. But with prodding from her husband Hes and daughter Emma, we both became "fearless" and took cycling around the park. It was a nice experience.

Valentina's Kitchen

2008-08-27T03:21:00.000-07:00

Valentina's kitchen. This was the kitchen we were using when we stayed in Paris for nearly a week. Compact but very functional.

Borobudur

2008-08-25T18:59:00.000-07:00

I remember when I was still around 7 years old, I saw pictures from an article in Life Magazine, or was it National Geographic (?), of this awesome place called Borobudur. My Dad told about this mystical place and since to my young mind that Indonesia seemed to be very far away, it almost sound very exotic and unreachable. But just last month, I was able to visit Borobudur, thanks to our friends in Apikri in Jogjakarta, Indonesia. During one weekend, the nice and gracious people took us to Borobudur, a one hour drive from the city of Jogja.

Borobudur is a Buddhist temple that was built dating back 1000 years ago, built by early Buddhists who migrated to the island of Central Java in Indonesia. What is so fantastic about this place was that everything was built of stone, from ground up. No cement was used and all the parts are interlocking. Earthquakes or volcanic eruptions have come and gone, nothing can seem to destroy the place, to think there are two active volcanoes flanking this temple.

Upon entering the first level, one must go around it by walking counterclockwise, the way Buddhists walk when entering a temple. If one would view it from the top, by helicopter, one can see that is one big mandala pattern. That is why the place emanates a different yet peaceful energy.

Coming back to Manila, I told my Dad about the place and about this old article. Seeing my childhood wish come true was really wonderful.

Yoga in Bali

2008-08-25T04:09:00.000-07:00

Our first weekend in Bali, we chanced upon a free yoga session by the beach of Sanur. Somebody was offering a free use of mat. We did not join in because we saw it was already halfway and we didnt do any stretching beforehand. But we promised to come back the following day and we did. There are even volunteer-instructors that translate the main instructor's Bahasa Indonesia to English which was pretty cool.

The Real Bali

2008-08-13T08:18:00.000-07:00

Bali is really what you read about, a fantastic place to surf, lay in the sun, shop, culture, crafts, a great place to get respite from all the stress, fun and rock and roll and many more. Yet many of the tourists in the majestic island do not know the undercurrent social and economic situation of the true Balinese. Nobody, I guess, would think what the common Balinese have gone through so much to put up a serene face for all these tourists. Day by day, locals are losing their lands to the foreigners who choose to make Bali their new home. After losing their land, there is no other income for these former illiterate former-land-owners. It is alarming to note that last year, several old people have committed suicide for the reason of poverty, i.e. no money to buy medicine, no food on the table.

Sure, there are a lot of hotels, spas, shops, tourists spots around Bali. Nobody would think there are people who cannot get any food on the table because the other people from other lands have their jobs that supposed to be theirs. But 90 % of the time the properties are not owned by local Balinese anymore, they are owned by foreigners. There are still a good amount of local who are not very educated who cannot get to the top of the corporate ladder because they are passed-over by foreign-owners for better educated and better-trained outsiders. Only the lowly positions go to the Balinese. There are very few Balinese establishment owners in Bali, they ought to be patronized more.

Its a sad state, that while tourists flaunt their Dollars and Euros, many of the profit, in general, do not benefit the people of Bali. I hope many of the establishments in Bali could fund free-high school education to the Balinese children. I hope more and more would support the local health programs especially for the elderly.

I am happy that while we really enjoyed the shopping and the sun in Bali, my awareness of the situation gave me a different way of seeing things in Bali. Thanks to my new Balinese friends who in their own efforts and resources are trying to change the situation in Bali. Thanks to them for making me aware.

Jogjakarta, Indonesia

2008-08-11T16:31:00.000-07:00

Im seating outside our hostel room facing the east. While the sun is blindingly sunning my face, I wish I have a nice ball cap to make me not squint while typing on this blog issue. Good thing there seemed to be no one else in this floor in this hostel we are staying in.

Waking up in these part of Jogjakarata in Indonesia is much nicer. We are a bit far from a Mosque, although Mosques here are not more than two hundred meters from each other. At least the morning prayers doesn’t wake me up any more early in the morning. But it seems our present location is right at the path of the airport runway, hearing planes comes and goes replaces our previous prayer-wake-up-call from last week.

I admire the tenacity and the religious fervor of Muslims. Taking the devotion to sing the call to prayer before the break of dawn takes total passion. And doing it five times a day takes dedication. To even commit to wearing a “jilbab” for a lifetime and denying of oneself the hair vanity takes so much self-denial. Now, I would no longer wonder why our Catholic nuns do similar practice and why Buddhist nuns do a different way by shaving their heads. Still, their reasons and motivations are the same. I am afraid to say that I have none of their dedication.

But muslim women here show their individuality and flair by wearing fashionably beaded “jilbab” and color coordinated long dresses or jeans. Seeing them ride their scooter bikes gives these Indonesian women the look of modernity and emancipation while adhering to their religious beliefs.

While women here takes a second stand to her husband, it is nice to note that the organizations we have been dealing with have women calling the shots in their marketing department. While men usually take the overall managerial role, women takes the front in “selling” of the organization’s image and products.

Jakarta Day1

2008-08-11T03:09:00.001-07:00

It was nearly lunchtime when the singing started... The call to prayer of “Mujadins” in the nearby Mosques have started out. The rhythm of the singing was very nice to hear. Although there was no conductor to coordinate all the Mujadins singing, there is an almost a second and third to fourth voices of the same lines. The Mosques are no more than five hundred meters away from each other, all of them have assigned Mujadins singing, each of these Mosques have their own PA systems. The melody being played was something we will get used to for the coming days. The total days we will spent in the island of Java is 12 days. So I was hoping to get to the rhythm of the Muslim prayer times.

Each of the Muslims we were having meetings with would excuse themselves on each prayer time. Each would go to the "Musholla" or prayer room and say their prayers. Women wear a white over-garment that covers them from head to toe while men may just prayer with no other special garment to use. There are about five prayer times on each day. Their religious devotion is really admirable.

Indonesian Adventure: Jogjakarta 1

2008-07-31T02:37:00.000-07:00

Good Morning, Jogjakarta!

Today is a national holiday here in Indonesia. It is a religious holiday regarding when Prophet Muhammad went to Medina. The how’s and why’s of this religious holiday is not fully explained to me. Being in a Christian organization’s premises the more they cannot tell me the story behind.

Indonesia is a story of contrasts. Jogja (for short of Jogjakarta) contrasts in religious “nuances” and sights. We were at the southern part of the city from last Thursday until Monday this week. The organization we were scheduled was mainly a devote Muslim. The blaring sound system during the 4.30 morning prayer is something to get used to. A mosque was right in-front of the small hotel we stayed in, check out www.wismaarys.com. All the people there in the organization does the ritual prayer daily and women wear “jilbab” and long clothes. We are very mindful of their time for this prayer. Praying for them does not take more than 10 minutes. A designated prayer room is place is the quietest part of the building. Women wear a white outer covering from head to toe with only their faces showing while praying. It is very humbling to see women and men praying.

While this week, we are here in the center of the city. The street the Christian organization is located also where a big Christian university is located. A Christian church right in front of it and this organization is fifty meters away. We seldom see women wearing “jilbab”. I had a prior impression that the women here are in this big Java island are all Muslim, but I was surprised that most of the people here in these parts are Christian. I could see young girls wearing nice pastel colored-sweats and pedal pushers and flip flops.

This city being the university town of Indonesia is overrun by students. The food is cheap and the delicious. Check out my other blog, Budji List, http://budjilist.blogspot.com so you can read more of my culinary adventures.

Art gallery in Antipolo, Philippines

2008-05-22T03:59:00.000-07:00

Antipolo is where the famous falls, Hinulugang Taktak, can be found. It is a couple of hours travel north of Makati City. If you are lucky on a weekday, you might get there in shorter time, if you know the short cuts. But its a nice drive on weekends. Few people know this art gallery. We made fine discovery more than a year ago. The place is very unassuming but the architecture inside is very interesting, this is a nice mix of Meditarranean / Spanish / Filipino and Mexican touches. This gallery that has both a nice sculptural garden and with spaces for exhibition. To top it all the place is nestled in a subdivision overlooking the whole of Manila. Any visitor may mistake it for a nice weekend retreat, as there are rooms with private baths. I didn't inquire if they rent out rooms for the weekend.

Easter Weekend in Subic

2008-03-24T02:57:00.000-07:00

We went to Subic, the town not the SBMA, last weekend for our family's Easter Getaway. The old Subic Base is actually in Olongapo, not Subic (bet you dont know that?). We rented this house overlooking Subic Bay. It is a nice house in one of those sparsely populated hill in Subic town. Easter morning was something very glorious after a nice breakfast I prepared and everybody enjoyed it and most especially when all the family-members have filed out to their cars to go to the beach nearby. A nice quiet time for me. Since I was the one who cooked breakfast for the whole clan, with some help from some in-law's maids and one in-house trusty helper Jane. I needed a winding down. Before Dear Hubby went out to go to the beach, I had him look for a better FM station to set the mood right, while I was cutting up the fruits for my lunch fruit compote offering. Thankfully, he found this jazz station that played a lot of jass fusion - 90s sounds. What a better way to spend a great morning in this great house with wide windows overlooking the bay.

Since I got nobody to be with to go to the beach, which was like a 10 minute walk away, I put on some sun block, my Jackie O sunglasses and sat on the balcony and enjoyed the morning breeze. What a day!

Anybody interested on my Fruit Compote Recipe?

4 pcs of Pears, pealed and cut up
2 pcs of Fuji Apples, cored and sliced
3 pcs of Oranges, pealed and slices without the 'casings' (dont know how they're called)
4 pcs bananas, sliced
10 pcs of Calamansi or 1 lime, juiced combined with
1/2 cup water + 1/2 cup sugar, stirred in a small bowl

Prepare the Oranges first. Prepare the Calamansi / lime juice with water and sugar. Cut the pears, then dunk them by batch onto the bowl with lime, sugar and water. Transfer to a bigger bowl. Do the same with apples and Bananas, do the bananas last. Pour what is remaining from the Calamansi, sugar, water juice. Refrigerate for 1 hour. Serve.

Other fruits to use: Strawberries, grapes, honeydews, watermelons.
To make it more yummy: add mint leaves to the water.

A New and Great (Hi-)Way to Subic

2008-03-24T01:33:00.000-07:00

A new highway to Subic has just been inagurated some days ago. Its called the SCTEX, Subic-Clark-Tarlac-Exchange. It cuts the time to Subic from Balintawak to 2 hours. The whole lenght is some 90 km from right after the DAU Toll Plaza and, man, the high-way is prestine. What got me excited was the scenery of this highway, its like travelling abroad: No big billboards can be found yet; there are "bahay kubos" that dot the rice fields; mountain that are green; Aetas (indigenous people in the area) hanging out near the railing and watching the cars go by...its like being in a different country... one beautiful and green country.

Our travel time took us two hours from Balintawak to Subic. Which is amazing, because the usual travel time to Subic via San Fernando, Pampanga will take you some 3 - 4 hours to Subic, depending on the volume of small vehicles in the old highway. You'll pass around 3 - 4 tolls altogether in this new highway. The Php200 total toll charges will definitely go up once they open the new highway to the public. Last week it was still free to use. But they closed the whole thing for more sprucing up, perhaps after two months it will be permanently open to the public. According to someone in-the-know about makign highways, the contractor needs to polish some parts to really make driving there smoothly. I didnt actually notice anything bad, all I enjoyed was the whole scenery. I guess, my hubby was the one who noticed some imperfect parts, I wasnt driving anyway... But all in all, We were lucky to have this experience.

To be French..

2008-03-02T01:25:00.000-08:00

I think you know by now that I fell in love with Paris, the City not the Hilton. Its one great city full of culture, quirks, lovers, small streets, fantastic underground rail system and with its old world glamour and modern charm. Yes, folks, its nice to be there. But spending a few days in France baffled me in unexpected occasions.

Since I cant carry a decent conversation in French and cant read French either, it flustered me knowing that I cannot communicate in French. Its hard to learn the French language. The French drops the letter "H" if its the first letter of a word. This rule also applies when speaking in English. Like the english word "Happiness" the French would say 'a pi ness'. (They're like Kapampangans!)

I was having this casual conversation with the girl behind a cash counter, she said in that "Valentine brings ol da lobb and ol da a penis in dis world." Since I am a bit hard of hearing, I thought she mentioned "penis". Then seeing that I got a puzzled look, the lady said "you know, everybody's 'appy!"!! Ahhhhhh! Got it!

So try saying beef in French? Its bouef in French, that sounded like buff to me! Like in the buff"!!! hahahahah

I got by, by nodding yes and shaking my head for no. But God know, I wouldnt survive for long... All Emma taught me was "parlaiz anglais"?

Walk to the Eiffel Tower

2008-02-06T22:31:00.001-08:00

My first sight-seeing was scheduled on the same Sunday we went to hear mass at the Sacre Couer Cathedral. Since Emma has been in the city for several times, a guided sight-seeing was not an option for her. Armed with a map of the city and a metro route map, I embarked on my first day of going around Paris.

It was my first time to ride the Paris Metro System. Its a bit daunting to the uninitiated, all things are written in French. Even the machines to buy the tickets from. But I managed by just guessing how the system works. The first stop of my walking tour was the Musee D’Orsay. For the Impressionist buffs, both post- and pre-, this is a place to be. Seeing first hand the portrait of Vincent Van Gogh, Albert Degas pastel nudes and ballerinas and Matisse’s nudes in cut-out was like seeing old friends. What really moved me to tears was when I saw the “Starry Night” in Arles by Van Gogh. This was a childhood dream to me to see the subject of the song by Don McLean “Vincent” which started with the words, “Starry Starry night, painted blue and silver grey..” which was my Dad used to sing a lot to me to put me to sleep. It was more like seeing an old friend, I obviously had a strong connection to that painting.

After the Musee D’Orsay, I had this plan to walk the whole length of the Rue L’Universite. From the map, it looks like several blocks away to get to the Eiffel Tower. But with 4C temperature, it was not a joke. By the time I got to the Eiffel, it was 7 pm and it was darn cold. But when I was at the Alexandre Park, the tower was lit up with dancing lights that it looked like twinkling from a distance. It was a pure delight! When I got to the tower, there were many tourists lining up to get to the elevators. All I needed was to take some photos under it, as I did not imagine of going up in the near freezing cold with a whole bunch of Chinese tourists with me. Besides, taking the stairs down would kill my right knee. When it was my turn to leave, the tower was lit up again and seeing it near was so delightful. There were many kissing couples under the tower. It was so romantic that for the first time I felt homesick in this city of Love and lights.

Meet me in Paris

2008-02-05T14:16:00.001-08:00

Paris is lovely today. It was sunny and the beauty of its splendor is at its magnificence. Hanep, the whole place makes a poet out of anyone.

We were staying at my Boss Emma's Italian friend who incidentally is back in Milan for a new work. This meant that we had her small flat to ourselves. It is a one room affair complete with the kitchen, bed and workstation. It is nice, it has this European feel to it. One window opens to St. Vincent’s Cementery, which is altogether a melancholic yet romantic view. Out of the main gate, a few steps to the right is an old Picasso-Monet-hangout called “Au Lapin Agile” . That’s Fast Rabbit for you. Its a small cabaret in the corner of Rue (Street) Saules and Rue St. Vincent which dates back in the turn of the 19th century. A lot of tourists on their walking tours take picture of that small pink-salmon colored place. One can only wonder how many people fit in its floor space in my estimate that it is no more than 16 sq. m. That’s 8 sq meters each floor. It is mostly closed for the winter.

To the upper left of Rue St. Vincent, is the magnificent Cathedral de Sacre Coeur, Catherdral of the Sacred Heart which is the at the highest point of Paris. It overlooks many of the points of significance in the city. It is one of the most visited by tourists as even when the mass is on-going walking tours inside the church still continues. I bet half of the tourists are non-Catholics. But one is awed by the grandeur of the place. We attended our Sunday mass there. At the end of the mass, there was an invitation by the Bishop who celebrated the mass for a lunch. So, being Filipinos, a freebee lunch is always welcome. But sadly, when we asked at the information office, the nun there said we have to shell out EU19.90 for the lunch. Well, its not free after all. So the next good option is to go to MacDonalds. By this time we were joined by two old Filipino acquaintances of my Boss Emma from way back.

Beside the Cathedral is a touristy place full of small shops, boutiques, cafes, galleries, bistros and artists looking for a quick buck to draw anyone’s portrait. We checked out one gallery and headed for the nearest MacDonalds. But we took the wrong turn and ended up at a KFC. Which is a more welcome option for me. Our lunch cost us EU5.50. Much better than the EU19.90! After lunch we all went to our own ways.

It was mid-afternoon that we finish our late and the shine was shiny. Make me want to wistle... if I only knew how. 'Til next time.

The Old German Guy

2008-01-29T23:46:00.000-08:00

On our first day in Frankfurt, we went to buy our train tickets to Paris which was scheduled the next day. The ticket counter guy who sold us our tickets was a white-haired old German guy (we shall call him OGG)guessed correctly where we came from. Of course, seeing us and how we speak our English.

It turned out, he said, that he has a Filipina girlfriend. He said that it was a lucky thing for us that we were able to secure a business Sheng-en visa to Europe easily. His girlfriend does not have a good reason to go back to the Philippines. Then he proudly showed us a couple of 3R photos of the girlfriend. So we happily obliged to look how “pretty” the girlfriend was.

And lo and behold, all we could think about was… “ his girlfriend is a man”. You know this thing when the gays back home in the Philippines are more woman-like than regular women. Apparently, the ticket guy didn’t know that his “girlfriend” is a man! The thing there was to tell him or not. The good thing there is that the old ticket guy cant fly because he seems to have motion-sickness and is afraid to fly. Then the gay-guy-girlfriend (GGG, we know should call her that) cannot come to Germany because he/she cant secure a visa. This part of the story is very convenient to the GGG because you can imagine how the reaction if the OGG finds out if the GGG is a man!

So the story continues on… the GGG will continue asking money/support from his/her OGG and the OGG happily would obliged without being found out.

Heavy Lifting in Frankfurt

2008-01-26T12:36:00.001-08:00

Bon jour from Paris!

This is my second day in Europe. But our first day was really something else we spent the early Friday dragging our respective 50-lb-luggages through a deserted street in Frankfurt, Germany. This is all because my Boss and I had the audacity not to take the taxi to get to the hotel. But the point of our near stupidity was that there was no direction to go to the hotel in the email sent. To top it the street where the hotel is cannot be found in the map of Frankfurt. Talk about some twilight zone here. To add to the stupidity was it was not my first time in Frankfurt, but this time things just stumped me. I was the one who insisted that we take the train and bus, it may cost us cheaply. However the following day, going to the train station we took the taxi and it may have cost us EU 15.00 (Php900) but the stress and the cold heavy sweat was not in the mix. But I am getting ahead here.

Going back to the scene of dragging this heavy luggage at 1C temperature was truly an experience. We took the train and bus earlier and relied much on the kindness of strangers to point us the way. Some where well meaning even if they didnt know where. We got down the wrong stop and had to drag our respective luggages through cobblestone sidewalk only to find out that our "supposed mistake" was the correct one!! But it was too late because we walked around 300 meters from the earlier stop. When we turned the corner, the hotel stood another good 200 meters. No choice for us then but to continually drag the heavy weight. Every 2 meters or so, we would stop and catch our breathe. Th neared we got the heavier our luggages became! But there was something beautiful I have witness through this supposed ordeal, I noticed that ice crystals have formed on the blades of the grass growing on the payment. It was a beautiful sight. This is, I guess, what you call serendipity... stopping to smell the flowers, in this case, stopping to witness the wonder of nature.

When we finally got to the hotel, when the hotel doors opened the whiff of warm air and the newly baked breads from the kitchen was enough to make us say a prayer of gratitude.

Heavy Lifting in Frankfurt

2008-01-26T12:36:00.000-08:00

Appreciating The Sublime

2008-01-20T16:32:00.000-08:00

Sublime/ adj.: Awe-inspiring; An occasion of feeling that arouses enjoyment but with horror.

Recently I was in Lake Sebu in South Cotabato for a very short visit. I didnt know what to except but all I remember of the image of the place was the photos taken by GEORGE TAPAN published in the Mabuhay Magazine years ago. It was a beautiful and exotic place.

Going there took one plane ride, one expensive taxi ride, two bus rides, one jeepney ride. But getting there was worth the trip. Since its in the mountains, the breeze was cool and the demeanor of the people (the T'bolis) is friendlier. There are wild flowers growing around, the town is very clean, all the things you would imagine living a bucolic life is there. I stayed the first night at a resort overlooking the lake. The mornings are exciting as one can see the sunlight slowly painting the whole lake in different colors.

One can only go around the place and the mountains in motorbikes. The people are so used to riding motorbikes that they ferry their farm goods in sacks attached to the sides of the motorbikes. These motorbikes can carry up to four passengers, three at the back and one (gasps!) infront of the driver. That is why this kind of transportation system is called "Skylab", from that infamous satellite that fell back from the skies in the early eighties that caused so much anxiety to the whole world population. But for the locals they are called Habal Habal. Each ride may cost from P10 to P30, depending on the distance. The roads off the highway are paved with big rocks. So one does a adventure biking on a daily basis.

For a city-girl-non-adverturer-like-me, riding at the back of a motorbike can be daunting. But I got no choice. However once I got into into it, I was thankful that riding motorbikes can made me appreciate the panorama of the place that I wouldnt get if I am riding in a car. The only downside is that it rains in that place more often. I was totally unprepared for this trip. I brought no jacket, no hiking shoes, no hat, no sunglasses! But I had to make do with what I have.

The most scary part was when I was scheduled to come home. I was invited to stay overnight at my hostess' place high up in the mountains. Going there the day before, I was able to see badly the roads were paved and how steep the inclines were, not to mention the sharp turns. This filled me with so much horror! I thought to myself that this was the road I will have to pass to get to the plains and it would still be dark!!!

But not to worry says my hostesses. They didnt mention anything about any accidents. Besides the designated driver was an expert. So with my prayers, I was dearly hoping that I would be fine.

Come the day of departure, everybody were up at 3 in the morning to prepare coffee and my breakfast. The early morning bantering was fun. When the time to go was near, my fears came back because I cant help thinking about the steep inclines of the road. My cold and soiled socks somehow heightened my fears. Cold socks = cold feet, figuratively and literally!

During the ride, to keep myself from freaking out seeing the rocks and not seeing 5 meters ahead of us, all I could see was the silhoutte of the hills and mountains and the distant lights of the plains. I didnt know how many prayers I said, but seeing the break of dawn while high up in the mountains was so amazing. I was filled with so much horror yet I was amazed of the beauty of nature, it was simply majestic. Scared yet so thankful. It was sublimely beautiful.

So for the people out there who want something different and exciting, I recommend that you go to Lake Sebu. The place is suited for honeymooners and family-vacations alike. For the adventure racers, motorbikes and mountain bikes as well, it is really worth the trip. The highways from General Santos to Lake Sebu are without any major cracks, the dirt roads are rough that one gets to experience extreme sports and the view is simply fantastic. The lake side view from the resorts are tops, the food is not very expensive, and what is a nice dip in the clean lake early in the morning? This is better than Baguio City. It is not yet fully developed, it does not have any SMs yet, the food is good and the place is very much inviting. I tell you, that even Lake Sebu is in Mindanao, it is peaceful. There are not many Muslims living in the area, as it is populated with T'bolis and Ilonggos.

It is really worth the trip.

Discovery: Manila Seedling Plant

2008-01-12T00:50:00.000-08:00

For the people in the know.. I guess the Manila Seedling is old news to many of you. But my family discovered the joys of the this place in North of Manila. We went there last Saturday to look for a nice weeding give-away for my brother's wedding the following Tuesday.

Aside from the numerous flowering and ornamental plants available, there is a big herbal/spice greenhouse situated at the entrance in EDSA, right after the Quezon Ave intersection. Ferdinand Magellan would love the numerous varieties of basil, thyme, lemongrass, leeks, etc. found in this greenhouse. Trolleys are even available, you can go around shopping like you are at a supermarket. There are even food counters like the fresh lemongrass and turmeric (salabat) juice dispencers, a nice bargain at P10/glass. There is even pizza!

For greenthumbs like my Mom it was truly a heaven. My Dad even bought a rare Peruvian Fern! My Dad is never into plants, so I guess we got a convert on that day.

We were able to buy a reasonably priced Bangkok Adenium - that's Calachuchi for most of you - as a nice wedding give-away and Dendrubium Orchids as gifts for the principal sponsors. It was a bargain yet we were so pleased of the whole thing. Come wedding-time, the guests were delighted of the cute Calachuchi seedling they received, while most of them half-expected the usual boring give-aways.

So guys, if you have time, pay a Visit to the Manila Seedling Plant. A nice sunday walk would be nice there especially in the mornings where the plants are just freshly watered and you can get a nice bargain.

Double Christmas Message

2007-12-25T22:10:00.000-08:00

What you are reading is a double Christmas message. . . It means that Christmas for me was really great. I hope yours was equally great too! Blogger had problems in updating my blog which I posted last night.

See my Christmas Tree on the right=>

I hope you have a safe and fun New Year's celebration.

2007-12-25T06:05:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas.

I know by now, that you must have licked the last morsel of that fabulous dessert from your Christmas dinner or drank the last drop of that red wine or beer and must have been smashed over from the booze last night's party.

We'll this Christmas, the celebrations I have been invited to were sedate yet nonetheless sumptuous. My side of the family, had the unfortunate timing of an early Christmas gathering, (in November!!! ), yet we had to cancel because there was a typhoon scheduled to wreck havoc in our out-of-town venue. But thankfully, the storm went sideways and hit the top most part of the country. By then, our reservations was cancelled and it was already a Monday. Same situation happened last year, and the typhoon then was devastating. So gone was our official party. But what is Christmas without a party, in whatever form? I have a cousin, fortunately, was born on Christmas day. She was named, "Felicidad". She has taken to give a party for us a couple of days before Christmas. So this becomes our unofficial Christmas party.

Food:
Our family like food. We are sort of foodies that we are not afraid to try new recipes and foods. Last year, one of my nieces prepared her famous Tiramisu and panna cotta. For many of my cousins, panna cotta is taken as is. But I got this inkling of putting cinnamon powder on my panna cotta. It turned out too well that many followed suit. I saw some kids raiding my cousin's pantry and looking for some mysterious powder to invent her/his own version of the panna cotta. I sure hope they did not try putting garlic powder... That would have been a yukky experience!!!

This year, we have to be contented with what my cousin had served for us (ehem!): Bechamel/cheese-encrusted-Salmon, delicious lasagna, fish croquettes, beef cutlets, crabs, creamy mushroom-pork-stew and of course the desserts of Tiramisu and peachpie. Have I made you hungry by now? This, my friend is not a standard celebratory meal for us. Because what was lacking was an extra table just for desserts. I guess, people were conscious of taking all that sugar and carbs. All these was courtesy of our favorite resto... Conti's. Which incidentally have just opened a branch in Ayala's Trinoma inQuezon City.

So you can understand that I was already in Christmas Party heaven since days ago.

And you know what was my Christams lunch meal today????

McDonald's meal... its a long story... but one that is enjoyable nonetheless. Blog about it the next time.

So how was your Christmas Dinner? Friends from all over the world come share your experience with me.

I see Ghosts... almost! (Belated Halloween Special)

2007-11-05T00:35:00.000-08:00

Do you believe in ghosts? That's an age-old question. We Filipinos like scaring ourselves.

I never really realized that we Filipinos have a very strong scare-culture (if that is what you call it) until some years ago when I was with some friends (including my Taiwanese Boss and Jekkie Chan) in Germany. We were in this small town in south of Germany. Being Asians we were starving for rice dishes as we were over 2 weeks away from "home" ("Home" for me then was China). Our guide was big old Fred, our affable German consultant. Incidentally, Fred has a Filipina wife.

It was evening at around 9 o'clock, from our small hotel, we walked and looked for a Chinese restaurant. Well, in a place like this, finding a decent Chinese restaurant would be a challenge. So we were walking towards dark city park. I suddenly stopped in my tracks and said, "lets go the other way where there were more street lights". And all of them looked at me and asked why, all I said... "mooomooo" as in "Ghosts". Fred laughed really hard.

He noted that young Filipinos kids are usually grew up believing in ghost stories. He told them that our yayas (nannies) and the other older members of the family would usually use these scare tactics to make us behave (or go to bed early). It made me think hard by what Fred said.

I guess he was right. This scare-culture is just too imbedded in our belief system. I have an Aunt who is so scared of almost anything.. she is nearly in her 80s.

The argument and the discussion went on. I surmised that our ghosts or witches and other characters in our folklore are more vicious and scary than the Chinese ones. At least we have flying half-bodied witches who suck young childrens blood or the vampires or the tall scary creature that smoke a big cigar of tabacco or the supposed unborn children that become scary and vicious "tiyanaks"... and what do the Chinese have??? The jumping zombies!!!! (Hong Kong movie version of american zombies) hahhahhaha

But its not to say that I dont believe in ghosts. I do... that would be in the next post.. stay tuned!

Looking for the Grandfather's Grave..(Halloween Special)

2007-10-27T04:46:00.000-07:00

This happened years ago... when I was still working in China (year 2001-2002). I went home to Manila every two months. I had this mainland Chinese officemate who likes to call himself, "Jackie" from, of course, Jackie Chan. The Chinese pronounce Jackie as "Jekkie".
Anyway, I digressed... In one of my trips home, Jekkie had an unusual request. He asked me to look for his long-lost grandfather's grave. This grandfather was supposed to be buried in Chinese Cementery in Manila. I thought it was the craziest idea, but after telling me the urgency of this unusual request, I agreed.

So, here is Jekkie's story: His grandfather left Fujian Province, China long ago, to seek good fortune in the "Bulipin" (that's Philippines for you). This was after Jekkie's Mother's birth. It was the time when the Philippines was very prosperous, I guess this was back in early 1950s. He worked as a restaurant waiter and sent money back to China. He settled in the country and was not able to go back to China. What happened to him, Jekkie did not really elaborated much on this matter. The family experienced one difficulty after another and had some of their relatives migrated to Hong Kong, including Jekkie's immediate family.

The urgency of the finding the grandfather's grave was brought about by a dream that Jekkie's mother had, that the grandfather was apperently "feeling cold". Jekkie's mother was not too sure of what the grandfather wanted to convey in her dream. So what is a good Chinese to do? Go to the Chinese temple priest! The priest told Jekkie's mother that the years of bad luck that Jekkie's clan was having was because the grandfather's grave was buried in a foreign land. The Grandfather was feeling "lonely" (its getting stranger by the minute...). So Jekkie's mother told Jekkie of the family's predicament. Dear Old Jekkie had a solution.... ME! Being the only Filipino he knows in the whole of China, I was asked for a very special favor. Jekkie drew the design of the tomb, including where the supposed picture was placed and the Chinese writing of the name. He then wrote the translation for me to read.

Being naturally suspicious and curious, I agreed with certain conditions: that I cannot promise to find the supposed grave, but I will try; Jekkie was going to fund for my "excursion" to the cementery plus a nice dinner to boot and other expenses that will be incurred, like paying for the cementery guide and etc. Of course, my services was free. He agreed and gave me a comfortable budget.

Coming back to Manila, I planned my trip to the cementery very well. Since I wasnt planning to go alone, I tricked my brother and sister of going to a nice lunch (after we make a side-trip to the Chinese Cementery). Knowing my siblings who would kill for a free meal at any decent restaurant, they agreed happily. Not knowing what entails in the side-trip... (sound effects please!)

One sunny Thursday morning, we made plans to go to the cementery. This was the time when we were still renting a place in Mandaluyong. So for us, Going to the famous Manila Chinese Cementery that borders Manila and Caloocan City, it was like going to the far end of the world for us. When we got there at nearly 9 o'clock in the morning, it was like entering a totally different country. It was unlike the crammed cementery in Bicol or the spacious memorial parks of Paranaque. The place was eerily like a village with rows upon rows of mauseleums that looked like townhouses! The place was very well maintained, thanks to the wealthy Chinese who funds for the upkeep of the place. As we walked towards to cementery office, an increasing number of curious "hangers-on" seemed to be accompanying us on our leisure walk. These people are the informal "employees" that get their livehood from maintaining the tombs and mauseleums. These people could clearly see that we were not Chinese, so they reckon that we were new in the place and were most probably "lost". When we got to the cementery office/temple, we had about 7 people escorting us.

A lady-recordkeeper looked for the location of the name I have given her. She told us to go to an area where the grandfather "might" have been buried. Im saying "might" because it was not stated in the records the exact location of the tomb. I knew then we were in for a challenge. So with a group of seven people who were solicitious enough (and annoying) to accompany us on our search. We went through a maze of tombs going to the general area. From there we made a zigzagging route to the rows upon rows of tombs. I think this was the less affluent part because there were less mauseleums around. Then it was getting frustrating for us because not only we cannot "read" Chinese writings, its hard to look at the tomb writings and compare to the Chinese writing gave to me. It was like comparing hieroglyphics symbols to each of the tomb. At nearly 12 o'clock noon, we were all getting hungry and tired and not to mentioned irritated. My sister sad down in one of the stone-benches and asked for a break. I told myself that if we do not find the tomb by exactly 12 noon, we will quit the search and proceed to the highlight of the day... lunch at Friday's. I said a small prayer of help. And lo and behold, beside the stone bench where my sister was seated, the tomb of Jekkie's grandfather!

Since I cannot read Chinese, my best technique was to compare the writing (felt like an archeologist), the writing was nearly exact except for this particular character in between 2 characters at the bottom part. So I took it as a good sign yet I was also in doubt if it was really the one. After tracing the tomb with a pencil on a paper, I paid our guides. On our way out, a taxi was waiting for us near the exit. We had a filling lunch after our adventure.

Going back to China, I told Jekkie of the good news but I also told him of the second character that was not in his drawing. When he saw the traced paper, he laughed in pure joy. He told me that the second character was "mister" word in Chinese. So I really found the real thing! After months of planning, Jekkie's older brother came to back to the Philippines to retrieve the grandfather's remains and brought back to China. The remains was cremated and placed in an urn.

After that great favor I did for Jekkie and his family, he was indebted to me. He did whatever I asked him to do, including giving me "pasalubong" whenever he comes back from HongKong after every weekend. Buying me English newspapers from Hongkong. His Mom sends me gifts on a regular basis. And whenever I wanted to send packages back home, I send it thru Jekkie's mom to take care of. I also tasked him to cover for me on a regular basis and build me up with our Taiwanese Boss everytime we have a meeting. I was practically shielded from the Boss' daily invectives thrown at everyone at the staff meetings because Jekkie was my front man. Even perhaps I screw up sometimes, I had a "protector" and his name is Jekkie Chan! =)

Wakeboarding Site in Bicol

2007-10-09T05:07:00.000-07:00

"The happiness of the body consists in the possession of health; that of the mind, in being sensible of that blessing." -- Anonymous

I encourage you to visit the Camarines Sur Wakeboarding Site in Pili, Camarines Sur, Philippines. Its beginning to be a popular hang-out for locals and even for world-class wakeboarders. They got a spa on-site for the sore muscles after a day of roughing it on the board. Its a man-made wakeboarding site situated in what we call the Bicol River Basin. This place is basically a flatland. To the south-east you will see the waterfall of Mt. Isarog and on a clear day, Mt. Mayon can be seen. Mt. Mayon is the most beautiful volcano in the Philippines, a true pride of the Bicolanos.

I havent tried any of the facilities yet but I got to tell you, riding a skate board is one of theose things that I have to do before I die!

This is just my first installment of the photos my brother and I took on my first visit to this fantastic place.

A temple visit in Galle, Sri Lanka Travel

2007-10-02T00:56:00.000-07:00

Hindu Temple, Galle, Sri Lanka2004. Photo: Budji S. Tresvalles

This temple is some meters away from a Catholic Church and a Buddhist temple is across the street. I met an old man here, wrapped in white loincloth, who gladly volunteered to be my guide inside the temple. His English was excellent. Being a wide reader, he told me stories of each of the stone structures inside the temple. He said that he is an armchair archeologist-traveller, having read books on different ancient cultures. That made him an excellent guide onsite. The best part was he did it for free as he was happy to show a foreigner like me around the place. He was not a professional guide or anything, as he was a professor in his former life of teaching.

A Hindu temple is very much unlike a Christian Church. The layout is different, there is usually an altar that people can go around. Incenses and these colored power are rubbed or sprinkled near the small entrance of the altar. This particular temple is devoted to one of the major gods, I dont remember who it was, can somebody enlighten me? But the object of veneration was this big phallic (gasp!) stone right at the center of this temple. It is such a surprise that the outside of the temple had elaborate stone carvings and the inner altar had more elaborate carvings, yet when you peep in one of the small doors of this inner altar, all you will see is a smooth stone that represent the male god (could be Lord Vishnu)! Being Catholic, I was expecting an elaborately carved image of the god, yet all I see was a big stone symbol of a penis. At the main small door beside this is a symbol of the woman... people you know what it is! Hindu religion glorifies both the masculinity and feminity in our beings, same thing that they recognize that there is good and bad in all of us. I find that very interesting.

Both symbols were covered with multicolored powders. The OCD (obssessive-complusive disorder) in me wanted to know how often they clean the symbols! But I demurred as the powder was years-old thick. Like soot in a chimney, I wondered if it gets any cleaning?? My visit to this place took place months before the devastating tsunami of 2004. I was happy I was there before that sad calamity happened.

Gloria-maris quality cantonese cuisine at Arlene's Bakery

2007-10-01T05:48:00.000-07:00

A newly opened family restaurant down the road in my neighborhood in Quezon City, has the quality of a Gloriamaris restaurant. It's called Arlene's Bakery. The owner started out as a trained baker but then to get more clientele, she expanded her repertoire to other cantonese food. So the "bakery" thing is just a come-on, the breads are generally good, but man! the food is great!

Why is it Gloria-maris-quality food? Easy, the chef is from Gloria-maris and the owner was a shift-manager at Gloria-maris Greenhills before quitting and studying to become a baker. This place is steady gaining customers. For customers like me, its a nice place to hang-out in late afternoon after a walk to the nearby hair salon. Or just to pick up the best ube ensaymada on my way to school. Or if Im experiencing a cant-cook-tonight-dear mood, the rice toppings are a nice treat for me and my hubby. Plus, the dimsum, man!!!! Anyway, because of this place I had the best congee while nursing a slight fever (it was a good excuse to have that congee, by the way).

As for the breads, the pandesal also is tops for breakfast. The Pianono (jelly-roll cake?) brings back happy childhood memories. The macaroon ensaymada is nice afternoon snack on a rainy afternoon.

Inspite living near Banawe Street, the center of Chinese cuisine in this place in Quezon City, a growing number of clientele are going to this place. There are dozens of great Cantonese restos near our place and there is even a good Taiwanese place nearby. Yet, this place is very affordable and neighborly. It does not have the crazy and noisy atmosphere of regular big Chinese restaurants, that regular Chinese prefer. Its a bit cozy and the service is very personalized, as the owner serves you herself.

The place is a nice mix of Filipino charm and Chinese cuisine. Im so thankful for things like this... its enough of an excuse to hang-out after work for a nice cuppa coffee plus an order of triple asado siopao. I gotta have some of it now...

Thanks Mr. David Sedaris!

2007-10-01T00:39:00.001-07:00

Last Sept 19, I met David Sedaris. Well, not really "met", but I read two of his hilarious books. They were anniversary/birthday gifts to me by my husband along with a Celtic Music CD.

Anyway, back to David Sedaris, for all those who are not in the know, is a playwright-author-speaker-something-something. His books are about the way he writes about his family and his life generally. He is an older brother of Amy Sedaris. I cant go rattle about his short stories, you guys go read them yourself. But I love his style, he's is gay by the way, not that it matters, but it does to me. It feels like he is one of may gay-friend whose wit is sharp as a knife and has a wild and fun imagination. Nothing too "porn-wild" mind you, but realistic-"wild" or knee-slapping funny-wild. Its because of him I am thinking of starting my own blog. I dont know how to go about it and even if Im going to have a decent following out there. But here's throwing caution to the wind. And besides, it would be a great practice to improve my English. Besides having a blog would be a nice outlet.

The best part of being a blogger/writer is that people are allowed into one's mind or life. That is what so cool about it. Sedaris can write about his life with much humor and without much rancor or guilt. He makes situations in his life so bearable that I am enticed that peprhaps I can do it also. Not as witty as him, but perhaps it would best that I'd be able to manage to tell a decent story or opinion. I promise not to comment on political matters, but only in matters that affects my life.

Names will be changed so as to protect that identity of the unsuspecting and unbearables. Im sure these people wouldnt want to be backstabbed or made to look the butt of jokes in the whole wide world of the internet. As early as now, I am asking for understanding to my family, friends and relatives and extended-family for they will be the subject of my blog. You people may disown me in the future, as you are entitled to your own opinion and will, you are free to do so... But its life. Just imagine who would write about your lives if it will not be documented at some sort, aside from that boring blurred family pictures that only you and your mothers' tend to enjoy.

I promise to be funny - yes, I hope to be - but one thing I cant really promise you is that I will be kind.