Sunday at Tiendesitas

Ah, today was beautiful. I woke up to sunshine and Isaiah 62:4.

No longer will they call you Deserted, or name your land Desolate.
But you will be called Hephzibah, and your land Beulah;
for the Lord will take delight in you, and your land will be married.

No longer will I be branded deserted or left (for something, someone or somewhere else). Instead, I will be called a delight to my Lord. And my land will no longer be called desolate, unproductive, barren. But rather, my land will be married. My King will take care of the land He has entrusted to me.

If your morning starts with something like that, you know the rest of your morning is going to be great. :)

The morning was cold. But breakfast was ensaimada and warm chicken macaroni soup. Perfect for the sunny but cool February morning. Besides, the cold wind is blowing. The tombs will open soon. I wait in anticipation, Lord.

We left early for Tiendesitas. My sister, Maita, was going to have a Dog Fashion Show at noon. She was also going to have a booth there so, we had to go there with time to set up. So we left the house at nine in the morning to Nightwish and David Bisbal ❤ in the background. And so after we left Maita to do what she needed to do at the venue, Marie, my other sister; Pat, my brother; and I went to a bistro nearby and had breakfast (second breakfast for me).

We went around Tiendesitas while waiting for Maita's Fashion Show. And I found these really cool stuff! Got myself a mask ring and this Steampunk-looking bracelet (P100!). 

We also looked at the cats and dogs they were selling there. Our cat, Hannibal, was exhibiting signs of being lonely for other cats' company. And I'm considering getting him a playmate maybe in three or four months time. But I want a bred cat this time. The most ideal would be a Maine Coon. Cream or Tortoiseshell. If not that, then a blue Persian would be my second choice. Saw a blue Persian, but it wasn't pure bred.

We also saw a couple of huge dogs who were there for the Dog Show that afternoon. They came up to a man's waist! Their heads were bigger than mine (okay, fine, take the pun)! I think a child can ride their backs and they would be able to support it.

When it was finally time for the Fashion Show, we want back to the event place. And, hmm, Maita's improving! It's a lot more organized, and her style is really showing now with her hats and clothes, both on humans and on dogs.

All in all, a good day. :)

In the Presence of Giants

I'm not normally a physical adventure-type of person. I'm usually more interested in the art scene of a place than its thrills. But when my sisters voted to go to Donsol to swim with the whale sharks for our local trip this year, I thought it wouldn't be so bad. I had been so uninspired for the past few months that I thought a change in scenery, as well as a deviation from my usual activities, would do me good.

Growing up to a length of forty feet, the whale shark is easily the largest fish in the sea. It is a shark, not a whale, which means it's a fish and doesn't need to surface for air. But plankton being its pimary diet, it needs to go close to the surface where the said organism thrives by taking in sunlight. This also means that this colossal shark is harmless to humans. Donsol, a small town in Sorsogon in the Bicol region, is the whale shark capital of the Philippines. From November to May, the whale shark comes to the area to breed and feed. And as part of an awareness campaign for this creature, the World Wildlife Foundation and the Department of Tourism came up with an Ecotourism program that allowed visitors to swim and see the sharks up close.

I was excited to get away from Manila and its heat for a while. Then again, I'm always excited about going to places I've never been to yet. But I must admit, I was not as excited as my travelling companions to swim with the biggest fish on Earth. It was not that the prospect of swimming with an animal in the shark family scared me. It was more like I didn't quite see what all the fuss was about. If one wanted to see a whale shark, one need only go online and search. There are a lot of pictures out there of the butanding, as it is known locally.

Anyway, I couldn't really say that out loud and burst everyone's bubble, could I? Not when my sisters were so looking forward to seeing the whale sharks. And not when my cousin kept jumping off her seat and shouting, “Oh my God! Oh my God!” everytime our spotter thought he saw something. But I'm getting ahead of my story. Allow me to start from the beginning.

Our day started at six in the morning of April 18, 2009. There were four of us: me; two of my sisters, Marie and Maita; and my cousin, Lala. Our Butanding Interaction Officer, or BIO, picked us up on the shores of our resort. There were four of them manning the boat: our BIO, who would be joining us in the water; a spotter, whose job was to spot the whale sharks from afar; and two men who manned our boat.

It had rained the night before. And BIOman said it would be difficult for our spotter to find whale sharks after a rain because they tended to swim deeper down whenever it rained. But we would try anyway. We had three hours to find them. The boat was ours for that duration. We set off.

I still couldn't feel the excitement. It's not that I disliked the idea. I liked seeing wildlife, too. But I just couldn't feel anything.

And I wanted to feel something. I was uninspired and I needed to feel something.

It was still a bit foggy when we headed to the deep. Donsol was a beautiful place. Not manicured-beach-beautiful. And there's not much of what we, from busier cities, would consider entertainment. But it had its own wilder, more untouched, kind of beauty. From our boat, the waters looked like a sea of shiny mercury. Mount Mayon was barely visible on the horizon. And when I looked up at the sky, the cloud formation looked like a white version of the aurora borealis. Beautiful. Out at sea we saw several flying fishes jump up and skim over the surface like a stone skipping over the water. There were dolphins, too. Once, they even swam quite close to our boat. Not like Talicud in Davao City, though, where dolphins sometimes actually swam just beside your boat. But they were still close. It was good to see. It was a calm and pleasant feeling.

But still not exciting.

Well, at least I felt something. Calm and pleasant was good. Bored and frustrated, though, was not. That was what came next.

For the next few hours, we scoured the sea for the elusive butanding. On normal days when the sea is clearer, each boat would have its own area, and a group could see up to eight sharks in a morning. But it was not clear that day. It had rained at around two that morning, which raised the river's level and spilled some of the river's dirty water into the sea. Because of the scarcity of sightings, boats moved out of their respective areas and converged in places where other boats saw the beast. And too many people scared the creature into withdrawing deeper down and out of sight. Once, we arrived just as the shark was descending. I didn't see anything. Only Marie got a glimpse of the creature, and all she saw were faint white dots.

It was probably aleady close to eleven in the morning, although one couldn't really tell with the way time moved so slowly in Donsol. BIOman was getting frustrated with how the other boats always beat us to the sharks. My companions and I were already slumped with our smiles gone from our faces. I had already fallen asleep a few times. BIOman probably noticed how disheartened we looked, and told us we wouldn't be heading back until we found one. He told the driver of our boat to move towards a part of the sea where the other boats were not spotting for sharks. A little while later, BIOman suddenly jumped up and talked Bicolano to the spotter. There was a sort of urgency in his tone. He turned to us and told us to gear up and get ready. Quickly, we put on our goggles, snorkels hanging on the side of our eyewear. We had spotted something.

BIOman quickly pulled on his flippers and instructed us to sit at the edge of the boat. But looking behind us, there was another boat in pursuit. Our movements had been noticed. BIOman shouted to our driver to go faster. Then, turning to us, he said, “When I say jump, jump!” I didn't know how to swim. I could doggy-paddle in the shallow part of the swimming pool, but I didn't think I could swim in the deep open ocean! I always thought this whole butanding experience would be a lot slower, calmer. You know, like the pictures you would see from the Tourism posters. And I thought I could let my sisters jump in the water first, then I could slip down slowly and hold on to them. But with everyone's energy level running this high, and with another boat just behind us intending to take our butanding, I wasn't going to protest. BIOman shouted for us to jump. “Bahala na!” I thought. “Let what's coming come. I'll deal with my swimming problem when I'm actually swimming.” Anyway, I was wearing a lifevest. It was torn in places and the styrofoam might just burst out of the vest once one impacted with the water, but, hey what were the chances all four of the styros were going to pop out all out once anyway. Throwing caution to the wind, I threw myself off the boat.

I fell into the water with a splash. Completely submerged, I couldn't see anything but blue. My body rotated (not through any deliberate effort of my own) to an awkward angle and, to my relief, surfaced sputtering plankton-rich sea water. Take my word for it, it doesn't taste good. Fumbling around to see where everyone else was, I felt BIOman grab my arm and adjust my goggles. He told us to put our snorkel's mouthpiece into our mouths already. I was still dazed when BIOman gave us new instructions: “When I say look down, look down.” I just nodded. “Alright,” he said. “Look down!” I did what I was told. If this was a movie, the next scene's sound effect would have been one low reverberating drum beat.

The posters showed whale sharks in clear blue waters with rays of sunlight peeking through from the surface above. About three meters away, divers swam side by side with the gentle giants. It looked like a scene from an inspirational movie. But like fastfood, the actual thing is always different from the poster. Unlike fastfood, though, the actual thing did not disappoint. I wanted to feel something intense? Well, I got it. Not exactly what I was expecting but then I wasn't really very specific. Instead of Free Willy, the feeling was more like Jaws. When I looked down, instead of seeing a spotted blue creature swimming past my line of sight, what I saw coming out of the dark murky waters was a grinning grey giant... coming straight towards me.

It headed downward. When it reached my position, it would be just a few inches below my feet if I extended them. I just floated there, too stunned to do anything as the spotted shark slowly swam on beneath me. BIOman grabbed my arm and we pursued the butanding until it finally descended out of sight. We surfaced. And my sisters, my cousin, and I laughed and exchanged stories about how surprised, shocked, and awed we were when we first saw the whale shark. It had been a medium-sized whale shark, measuring about twenty-three feet. The width of the butanding's body was double my width or more. And so was its mouth. Yes, width-wise, it seemed very much capable of swallowing me whole. But its mouth didn't open very wide. Like I said, it only ate plankton. So, I was quite safe. Come to think of it, the butanding actually looked like a twenty-three-foot spotted janitor fish.

Climbing back into the boat, we set off to find another one, giving me a bit of time to reflect on the experience. I had thought swimming with the whale sharks was going to be a shared kind of experience. While we were physically together, once you see the shark, you tend to forget everybody else. No, the experience was more personal. In the presence of the giant, I suddenly felt small. I, Miss I'm-so-great-I-can-do-whatever-I-set-out-to-do, suddenly felt vulnerable and powerless in the face of an endangered fish that wasn't even going to hurt me. Its size, its beautiful spots, its serene movement towards the deep, they all evoked so much awe. You know the feeling when you see something so beautiful it makes you want to cry? I felt that then. Mixed with the daunting feeling you get being before a living creature so much bigger than you.

Just for the record, no, I didn't cry.

Not long after, we spotted our second whale shark. From afar, we saw its dorsal fin sticking out of the surface of the water. Same drill. We sat at the edge of the boat and waited for BIOman's signal. Only this time, we had more competition. From two different directions before us were boats speeding towards the fin. BIOman screamed at the driver to go faster. We managed to get to the butanding first. But the other two boats weren't stopping. They intended to swim with this one, too! “Jump!” BIOman ordered. This time, I managed to land without the flailing in my movements. “Look down! Look down!” He shouted. I did. Like the last encounter, I was face to face with it. Only this time, it was a lot nearer.

I curled up my legs, not wanting to hit the creature. Quickly, I struggled to move to the side so I wouldn't collide with its dorsal fin. It was about the same size as the first one we saw. But this close, the spots were more majestic. I allowed BIOman to drag me as we pursued the creature. And I just stared, awed at the beautiful white spots on the equally beautiful giant beneath me. Suddenly, I needed air. I realized I had forgotten to put on my snorkel. Going up to the surface, annoyed at having to cut my already brief encounter with the butanding, I breathed in and wore my snorkel. Going back down, I saw that it had gotten lower already. This time, I saw the middle part of its body. The pattern of the spots on its body changed after the gills. The head spots were more random. The body spots were more arranged. The pattern was alternating row of dots and lines. Absolutely breathtaking. I forgot to breathe. Then I realized I already had my snorkel on. And I had to make a conscious effort to breathe in through the snorkel. But somehow, I was too distracted that I couldn't get my breathing in the right rhythm, and a bit of water came in through my snorkel, my breathing ended up ragged. But I wasn't willing to miss any more of the butanding, I did my best to breathe slowly through the snorkel. When it finally dived, I surfaced coughing and sputtering and laughing. Not because anything particular was funny. But because I simply felt good seeing the giant, and the only thing I could do was to laugh.

All in all, the trip to Donsol to see the whale sharks was worth it. So, was I inspired? Hey, I wrote this entry, didn't I? If not for anything, it gave me a story to tell. Hope you enjoy it. Save the whale sharks!

Cruising on Ha Long Bay

We took Cebu Pacific's Maiden Voyage to Hanoi on April 10, 2008. Though the city had many interesting spots to visit, my sister, Maita, also wanted us to go on a tour outside Hanoi. In fact, if we had more time, she wanted to go on the 10-hour train ride to Beijing. But since we didn't have a Chinese Visa and we only had a week, we compromised with a one-day tour to Ha Long Bay.

Ha Long Bay, a recognized World Heritage Site, is on the northeast side of Vietnam and was a three-hour bus trip away from Hanoi. We were told we would be taking a junk tour around Ha Long Bay, seeing the interestingly-shaped islets and visiting the fishing village in the area. Expecting a Chinese junk from the books, I was pleasantly surprised to find the junk a bit different.

They had the same sails as their Chinese counterpart, but the Vietnamese junk carried French-inspired wooden balustrades with stairs that led up to a wide balcony or viewing deck, while sporting an Asian dragon at the head. It was a beautiful combination of East and West. The food was not bad, not very far from our food. They put tomatoes with their fried fish, too. The experience was like eating Filipino food with chopsticks.

And so off we went on our little cruise, just me and my sisters, Marie and Maita. Slowly, the islets came to view more clearly: large rocks of limestone standing side by side. And we slowly made our way between them and into the fishing village they initially hid.

Hmm, so that's a cuttlefish. I had never seen a live cuttlefish before. Interesting. The fishing village little huts floating on the bay. And they had little fish ponds where they stored (or bred, I'm not quite sure but the cuttlefish ponds seemed to have eggs in them) their catch. There were also crabs, shrimps, and shellfish of some sort that I had never seen before, either.

After the fishing village, we continued to cruise, and our guide pointed two stones to us. He said, they were the "Kissing Stones." Some people also called them the Fighting Cock Islands.

Further on we went, and we made a stop to explore one of the caves of Ha Long Bay.

Breathtaking. That was how it looked like in a word. It was a huge cave with its own myth. But even if one doesn't know it, one can derive his own story just by looking at the stones. There were what looked like giant turtles (Maita thinks they really were turtles, fossilized), and one that looked like an eagle's wing. There was even one that looked like a stylized lion. The lighting effects, not the artificial lighting, but the natural lighting that came in through some cracks and openings were beautiful. When I see things like the stones in the cave, I can't help appreciate Nature as an artist, whose masterpieces we usually take for granted.

Japanese Supermarket Cuisine

When I first arrived in Japan, one of my first reactions was, “A hundred pesos for a cup of rice?!” When I left the Philippines, a cup of rice only cost around ten pesos. Five, in fact, if you knew where to go. I wasn't planning on paying ten times more than what I was used to! But such was the pricing in Tokyo that, during my first year there, I refused to eat at restaurants and satisfied myself with buying food from the supermarket if I didn't want to cook.

The experience was quite interesting, actually.

First, let's talk about drinks. In Japan, when they say “iced tea,” they mean, “iced tea.” As in Oolong tea... with ice. The most widely-ingested drink in Japan is tea, and the Japanese people drink it hot or cold.

People in Japan drank tea like water. Everywhere you go, you'd see people bringing pet bottles of tea. And the tea came in a variety of types. There was Jasmine tea, Oolong tea, Sencha, afternoon tea, lemon tea, green tea, milk tea, and many others. And then milk tea would have sub-varieties such as Earl Grey milk tea, Royal milk tea, green tea latte, and several others. And green tea also had sub-classifications of Maccha or the dessert green tea, Midoricha, which looked more like the Chinese green tea, and a mixture of both.

I was a coffee drinker back home but, before the end of the year, I was a fan of the Maccha and the milk teas.

Moving on to food, if I wanted it really cheap, I bought onigiri: triangular clods of rice wrapped in pieces of nori (dried seaweed). Onigiri comes with different fillings like beef, salmon and chicken. My personal favorite was tuna. The filling tasted somewhat like tuna sandwich minus the pickle relish. Not all fillings may be enjoyable to non-Japanese, though, so be careful when choosing. Once, I got an onigiri at random, thinking I was okay with any filling. I bought what turned out to be a plum-filled onigiri. It was very very sour.

Raising my budget a bit, I tried buying set meals. Supermarkets in Tokyo sell meals in plastic bento boxes. Some of those boxes contained the familiar tempura shrimps and teriyaki chicken, but others seemed to be rice meals with tofu, just tofu with a bit of sauce. No meat! I also found out that one of their viands that I thought was a breaded pork patty was actually made of mashed potatoes. Talk about an all-carb diet!

Mabo Tofu and the all-potato Koroke are very much part of everyday Japanese fare, I found out later. Though I never really learned to appreciate lunch of rice with only tofu or potatoes, I did form a fondness for other types of... unusual Japanese dishes.

Another type of meal the plastic bentos carried consisted of rice topped with bits of dried seaweed, chopped up pieces of scrambled eggs (sweet, by the way), flaked smoked salmon, and raw salmon eggs. As I looked at it, I couldn't help but think how strange the dish was. The thought of spooning in mouthfuls of those raw pea-sized eggs gave me goosebumps. The thin transparent shell of the eggs hid nothing of the creature forming within.

I bought one of these bentos later on. Strange as the combination might sound, I liked it. The nori gave it texture. The flaked salmon and sweet eggs gave it flavor. And the breaking of salmon eggs inside one's mouth made it a truly unique culinary experience I don't think I ever had in any other country. Just a note, though, this dish is eaten cold. The last time I heated it, the salmon eggs burst all over the insides of my microwave.

Now for the dessert. I usually used my homesickness to justify my buying cakes all the time. Japanese supermarkets sold dessert cups, and cakes by the slice. And they were no ordinary desserts. They were strawberry shortcakes, chocolate cakes, chocolate mousse, coffee jelly with cream, pumpkin jelly, chocolate pudding, and a selection of other mouth-watering goodies. And they were as delicious as they were beautiful to behold.

There were also Japanese sweets they usually sold in twos or threes. They were round sweets. Some were covered in brown powder, presumably made of wheat. Others were covered in sesame seeds, others in green tea powder, and still others skewered on sticks with sauce poured on top of them. And in spring, they even had a kind that was sakura-pink with a piece of leaf wrapped under the ball. Do not be deceived, however. The bean paste-filled balls taste more or less the same. Still, they were rather pretty to look at.

After a year, I got tired of converting the prices to peso and went on to eat at fancy restaurants in the Shibuya and Roppongi areas of Tokyo. But my experiences with Supermarket food taught me that one need not splurge on expensive restaurants to know the food culture of a country. After all, even Japanese people don't eat out all the time.

Spring in Japan

Ah, Japan: the home of sushi, geisha, and giant robots. It was the beginning of spring when I first arrived Tokyo, and I must admit, I'd had quite a number of surprises in the beginning of my stay there. There was my amazement at seeing young people dress up like vampires and baby dolls and converging in front of a shrine. There was also my astonishment at finding out there were such things as fetish cafés there where the waitresses were dressed up as French maids! But one of the more pleasant surprises I had was seeing how truly beautiful nature was in Japan.

It was some time during the first week of April when some friends took me to Yoyogi Park, a huge garden in the Shinjuku-Shibuya area of Tokyo, for what they called a “Hanami.” The word literally means, “see flowers,” particularly, a small five-petaled flower called Sakura.

Sakura, or Cherry Blossoms, bloom only once, and stay in bloom for only a few days, in the beginning of spring. I was lucky enough to arrive in time for that.

When we arrived Yoyogi Park, the Sakura trees were filled pink with flowers. There were no leaves. Only unadulterated beautiful light pink. And when the wind blew, the blossoms fell from the trees like pink snow. It was exactly like the calendar pictures and comic book illustrations I'd seen of Cherry Blossoms. Even more breathtaking, in fact, because I could actually touch the lovely flowers.

We spread a mat under one of the trees and had a picnic of sandwiches, chips and bottled tea... as did hundreds of other visitors spread out all over the park. We had a wonderful time eating, talking and admiring the celebrated blooms when I noticed some black spots on the Sakura trees.

Crows. Swarms of them. And there was something unsettling about seeing ominous black birds perched on harmless pink trees. Especially when one popular Japanese comic book claimed the reason why Sakura was pink was because the tree sipped the blood of a corpse beneath its roots, thus coloring what should have been white flowers. We got used to them after a while, though. They had to be frightened away or the chicken-sized scavengers would take our food. Crows are the Japanese equivalent of our alley cats. They would perch above and watch you eat or take your trash out. Then as soon as you release your garbage, they would swoop down and tear through it.

After we had eaten, some of my friends decided to go off and play badminton. I was contented where I was so, I declined, sat back and took in more of the view. Several of the locals were playing badminton, too. But most of them continued to sit on their mats and drink. I saw a beer can in the hand of almost every member of each group in the park. This reminded me that alcohol was an integral part of a Japanese celebration. Food is good, but no party is a party without beer or sake.

Speaking of food, there's actually more to Japanese cuisine than just sushi and tempura. Like most developed cities, Tokyo has its share of store-bought prepared food. Looking about the park, I saw that the locals brought along plastic bento boxes containing food they had bought from the supermarket. (We were cheapskates. We prepared our own sandwiches.) Their food looked really tempting. There was rice topped with bits of dried seaweeds and sesame seeds. They had viands of tempura, teriyaki chicken or some breaded patty. And of course, they had colorful side dishes made from radish, lotus roots, and several other vegetables.

One thing I can say about Japanese cuisine (and almost anything Japanese, actually), is that they're very well-prepared. A bento box, even one from the supermarket, will always be garnished. There will always be this elegant play of texture and color. And just as the Japanese scenery in spring, it will always be physically designed to take one's breath away.

The cawing of the crows signaled the sunset. Our Hanami had come to an end. No doubt the locals would be off to continue their celebration with harder drinks somewhere in the bars of Shibuya. As we packed our things to leave, I couldn’t help but take one last look at the trees we had come all this way to admire. The flowers were half gone now, blown away by the cold spring wind.

I saw the Sakura bloom twice more after that. And even then, I couldn’t help but admire the small short-lived flowers. To my mind, the picture they created was perfect. The flowers in their numbers set against the clear blue sky were magnificent, while their delicate pink color and the crows that perched on their branches hinted at an underlying darkness. The scene they created was one of tranquility, of vulnerability, and of a sad and strangely Gothic type of beauty that makes memories of them ones I shall treasure in my heart forever.

The Quest of Morning Rush

People usually take the morning rush hour for granted. Most people think it’s just there, nothing significant, nothing interesting. I beg to disagree.

I am the eldest of five. My current occupation requires me to take three different modes of transportation to reach my office. I am a Morning Knight.

I’m not saying I like the morning rush. It’s horrible. Once you arrive work, you look harassed and smell like you’ve been working the whole day, when all you did was leave your house to get to the office. But the morning rush is a daily quest that we all have to take. It is not an easy quest, and my fellow Morning Knights will agree to that.

You do not agree? Perhaps you are not a Morning Knight. I hear there is such a thing as flexible schedules now, and one can leave at a less crowded time. Let me relate to you what we, Morning Knights, have to go through, then, when we leave our homes to take on the Quest of Morning Rush.

Our day begins at sunrise; for some of us, even before. Everything starts with a tone, a high pitched beeping that pierces deep into one's slumber and attempts to draw one out of it. Then the tone stops. Then it starts again. Then a new tone starts and joins in, possibly one with a tune, this time. Then another one, crying S. O. S., joins in, too. And thus is the Medley of Alarms. For Knights like me, who have four schooling siblings, the experience is not a pleasant one, for each of us has his or her own alarm. It is a torture to the ears, much like the screaming of harpies. But it is not the real enemy. The real enemy, the first enemy Knights have to battle in their Quest, is the spirit, Hypnos.

Hypnos is the Spirit of Sleep. And he will lull you. Oh, how sweet his voice sounds. He is like a lover, serenading you, beckoning you to give in to him and his power. And I’m sure you have tasted his magnificently sweet power. But on this Quest, he is your enemy, and you must not give in to him. Hear, instead the Medley of Alarms. It is your friend on this first task of your Quest, and that is to break away from the Spell of Hypnos.

Once Knights have broken free of Sleep, they move on to their next task. Some knights have to take a three-wheeled vehicle to get to where they have to be for the second task. I do. Tricycle rides are not much of a problem to me. The only thing you can do is to wait for them. And when they arrive, you hold on.

The second task is a test of timing and speed. People call this task ‘Taking the Jeep’. For me, it is one of the worst tasks in the Quest of Morning Rush. For some people, it may be easy. But for the Knights from my little village, it is a challenge, considering that there are so many Knights, and so little of those wild creatures called Jeeps in the morning. For this task, a Knight must have good eyesight, a strong sense of timing, agility, determination, and the ability to hold on. Strong eyesight: you must see the sign on the Jeep from afar, to know if this Jeep is the kind you have to ride. Timing: you must time yourself to be able to get on during that few seconds that the Jeep slows down. Agility: You’re not the only one who wants the Jeep, so move fast! Determination: You might not finish the Quest on time. The Jeep can only hold so much. Some of you are bound to let go of the Jeep and wait for the next one. You’re not one of them. Believe me, this part is hard. I got hit by an umbrella once. But everything’s fair in this Quest. You can’t blame the woman for not attending to the other end of the umbrella while she wrestled her way into the Jeep. And well, sometimes, you can’t get in; you just have to hold on!

Ah, the third and final task is a tough one. We, Knights, call it ‘The Crush’. This is a test of endurance, and your ability to breathe in small spaces. Your enemy is a long snake-like monster called the Train. Many people battle the monster in the morning. You have to queue to get to it. Oh, the wait could take a very long time. And once you get to the platform, you have to position yourself in places where the Train’s mouths will open. And sometimes, the Train’s mouth would not fall directly in front of where it should. And the Train Driver would have to slowly make little adjustments to move the Train’s mouth to the right part of the platform. And the commuters would also make little penguin steps to keep in step with the train. All part of the Quest, I assure you.

When the Train’s mouths open, you have to push! You want to wait for a less crowded Train? You’ll never finish the Quest in time. So, push yourself in. But know that everybody else behind you will be doing the same thing. As more and more people push themselves into the Train, the less and less breathing space you’ll have; thus the term. So, position yourself. It’s all about positioning. Once you’re in, there’s nothing else to do now but wait, and make sure you don’t suffocate in the belly of the snake.

But wait! There are actually other things to survive through, too, in the belly of the snake. Of course you’ve got theft and sexual harassment. There’s entrapment, when you’re pushed against the door with a man taller than you looming before you with his arm pushing at the door above you, and you can smell his underarm and sweat but you can’t escape it because the train is too packed for you to move anywhere. And there’s also embarrassment, if you’re the man looming over with the underarm stink, and you can see how this tortures the little person under you.

And what happens when you push? Once the door opens again, you pop. And I’m not exaggerating. You will actually see people popping out of the Train when you reach a station, because you have to push your way through the wall of people near the Train’s mouth, then pop! You’re out.

And once you’ve survived ‘The Crush’, you know the Quest is over. Familiar? I wouldn’t be surprised. So, the next time you get to school or the office, give yourself a pat on the back and hold yourself in high regard. For, even before you’ve conquered the other Quests of the day, you know that you’ve completed the Quest of Morning Rush. And this is something you should be proud of.

At the Port of Galera

Hmm... So this is Puerto Galera.


On April 4, 2008, my family went on a company-sponsored outing to Puerto Galera. It had been a company tradition at Shimizu Co., the company my father works in, to take all of its staff and their families outing once a year. This year, my Dad decided to go, and us along with him. It took about three hours to reach Batangas by bus, then about an hour by boat (Montenegro Lines, one of Shimizu Co.'s biggest clients) to Puerto Galera.

We had the afternoon of Friday to ourselves. My family spent it either reading, sleeping, and commenting on the tackiness of the curtains.


We had games the next day with the company's employees. What I really enjoyed, though, was pizza there. The pizza was good. There was an Italian restaurant near our cottage. It was owned by an Italian dude and his Filipina wife, who used to be his maid (talk about Cinderella story :-) ! )

The scenery was breathtaking. Beautiful beach, beautiful sky, beautiful white sand. Just look at the pictures. They're not photoshopped. The shades of blue and green were really that deep. Beautiful. Plus the rocks on the beach... many of them were marble! Maita said Romblon was nearby. That was another thing I enjoyed: walking on the shore and picking up marble.


It was nice spending the afternoon walking along the beach, picking up stones, and just taking it easy. I even made a sand sculpture of a face.

Tickets and Travel

I seem to be traveling a whole lot this year. I was in Davao when I started the year. But then I didn't really count that as traveling since Davao is my hometown. Then again, I've just arrived from a trip to Baguio, and tomorrow, I'm off to Puerto Galera! Baguio was business. I was introducing Talecraft to the University of Baguio. Puerto is pleasure, a weekend trip with the whole family.

Then next Thursday, April 10, I'm going to Vietnam with my two sisters. Jade has classes. Pat has other plans. Mom wanted to go, actually. Well, not with us but all of her sisters are going to Hanoi on the 17th, and she wanted to go, too. But dear Daddy, ever so practical and forever wanting Mom by his side, said she had already been there last year and there was no need for her to go there again this year.

I also have a free round-trip ticket to anywhere in the Philippines from Cebu Pacific. Speaking of which, I have to book before the end of the month, and I still don't know where I want to go. Hmm... Maybe Cebu. I do need to check how my decks are doing there.

Anyway, so that's my past and planned travels so far, and I'll most likely be in Davao again this December for a family reunion.


Speaking of trips and tickets, my Dad, my brother and I just arrived last night from our overnight Baguio trip, when my Mom met us complaining her back hurt. For the details on why her back hurt, check out my sister, Maita's Blog.
"Dad, my back hurts," Mom says.
"Ah, come here," Dad replies. "I know how to make the pain go away."
And he hands Mom a sheet of paper.
Mom takes it and reads it, still pouting a little. Then my Mom's face lights up. "It's an e-ticket to Hanoi!"
Turns out, Dad had already bought a ticket last month for Mom so she could join her sisters in Hanoi. All the talk about her not needing to go there again was just a front so that when he gave her the ticket, it would be a surprise.

The Masquerade Ball

January 18, 2007. My Grandmother's 85th Birthday Party. Theme: Le Grande Masquerade. Let me tell you a bit about my Mother's Mother. Soccoro Robillo (Nanay) is the mother of eleven, grandmother of thirty-six, and great grandmother to a still-growing number. She speaks several languages, three of which (Japanese, French, and I think German) she learned by herself. She used to run Maguindanao Hotel, and now she runs Maguindanao Centennial Credit Corporation. She is a member of an Ikebana Club and the Soroptimist Club, and she goes ballroom dancing twice a week. And she's eighty five.

Friday started out busy for me. I spent the whole morning laying-out standees for Sagay, Tsuru and Hanoi. I planned to go to Casa Leticia to talk to my cousin, Christian, about plans for the three restaurants for the year, but I didn't have time. Before I knew it, it was time to leave for my Talecraft demonstration at Davao Central High School.

It went smoothly. There were about ten teachers present. They seem to be interested. But, like in my Ateneo de Davao demonstration, they were clamoring for a Filipino Talecraft deck, too.

I was back at the Big House, Nanay's house, by five. But, too late! Her hairdresser had already left. No choice. I had to fix my hair myself (which actually meant not doing anything to my hair). I loved my dress for the evening! I wore a billowing white skirt made of tool, and a leather corset. Very Gothic Lolita. Plus Maita made me an ice mask. I liked it a whole lot.

While I was putting on make-up, my mother arrived from the parlor. Wow. She suddenly had long hair! It made her look a lot younger. And, well, she felt beautiful and that was what was important. She had been feeling ugly and haggard lately because Daddy was sick and she had to take care of him, and the fatigue and worry were burning her out.

We rented Summit in Mandaya Hotel for the event. With a clan that's currently composed of around eighty people (including children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and outlaws... ehe! I mean in-laws), we really needed a big place to have a party. A lot of my cousins, aunts and uncles from abroad came home just for Nanay's birthday. The ones who couldn't sent video greetings (ah, the power of the internet). There were friends at the party, too. Dom was there (Nanay thought I should invite him since he had helped me so much with my event). And I'm glad he came. I wanted my family to meet the friend who'd been helping me with Talecraft. I hope he didn't get too bored.

So, the total number of attendees was around 120 people.

Since it was Nanay's birthday, there was dancing. I gave up and went home around 11:30pm. But Nanay apparently stayed until around one in the morning. My other cousins were out all night going to clubs after the party.

Then the morning after that, January 19 (which was Nanay's actual birthday), we were awoken by a Manyanita for Nanay. Her former employees from Hotel Maguindanao came at six in the morning to render a Harana, a song, for her. Isn't that sweet?

Taj Minar (Davao Food Trip, Christmas 2007)

The second establishment I've been to under the Davao Food Trip was Taj Minar. It's an Indian Restaurant in Damosa. The food is good. You know they're not scrimping on the ingredients. And the quality of said ingredients is also not bad. It's not that spicy for an Indian restaurant, but if one is trying to reach a wider audience, I think the spiciness of their food is just fine: not too hot but still unmistakably Indian. The ambiance is also very good, but the best thing about it is our friendly host. The owner of Taj Minar, Mr. Zafar, I believe, was a really accommodating host. He explained to us the various herbs used and how the different dishes were prepared.

We had this spicy crunchy unleavened bread for appetizers, and seafood curry for our main course. Oh, and we had chicken curry, too. Very good. Interesting thing about the seafood curry is they put cinnamon sticks and cardamom in it, which gave the dish a hint of something exotic and different about it. We had a really sinful dessert, which was very misleading. You'd think it was an ordinary fudge bar with pumpkin seeds and cherries, but no, it was actually a really rich pudding-like dessert with cardamom and other spices. We topped the meal off with a cup of Chai. My only complaint is the iced tea. It tasted like ice pop.

Fwendz

Kuya Bloggie invited me and my sister, Maita, to hang out at a place in Metro Avenue called Fwendz. Nice place. Small and cozy, and there's a lot of IT students hanging around there. He introduced me to some of them. I was promoting Talecraft and the Story-Creation Contest in January. One of the guys there said that a lot of the IT people present were willing to do digital art for free! They needed an outlet, he said.

It's really too bad that we don't have enough good jobs for digital artists here in the Philippines. And we have such good people! Too bad they end up taking a job that is either not related to Digital Arts, or is related but pays peanuts. Most of them studied on their own. There's no Digital Arts school here in Davao yet. Hmm... I think one is overdue.

Another thing crossed my mind when I was at Fwendz. Either I hang out with a really different crowd in Manila, or real estate here in Davao is just really a lot cheaper, but a lot of young people here seem to own their own establishments. The owner of Fwendz was quite young. And I remember another guy I met in Zakoya who said he was studying Medical Transcription, but he owned a food establishment in Damosa! Yeah, and the friend of another friend used to own Spro's Coffee Shop. Well, that one closed down. But still, the point was, it was put up. I'm not saying these kids know how to or don't know how to run business establishments. Some of them seem to be doing well while others think they can just put one up and leave it to make money for them (Not going to work.), while others tried but failed because they didn't see the big picture. But they were able to put them up. It makes me think that kids from Manila seem to be more "baby" than the ones in Davao. Just my thought.

Zakoya (Davao Food Trip, Christmas 2007)

One of the things I like about my hometown is how the young people are more adventurous when it comes to food. If in Manila eating out means going to McDonalds, Tokyo Tokyo, or some other commercialized fast food place, in Davao, going out usually means the finer forms of dining.

When I arrived Davao on January 19, my cousin, Kuya Bloggie, invited me to Zakoya, a nice Japanese restaurant on F. Torres Street. Good food. I've been to Japan so, I know Japanese food. Though there are some dishes there that are not really Japanese (like their Kimchi dish), their Japanese food is really as authentic as it gets (considering the ingredients that we can get here). Very cozy ambience, too. There were also some interesting things on the menu like grilled garlic. We were also debating on what the sugar-free ice cream tasted like. The chocolate didn't quite taste like chocolate, my companions said. The mango ice cream, though it had mango bits, kind of tasted like cheese ice cream. And the strawberry ice cream tasted like watermelon.

All in all, I enjoyed the experience.