Where in this world can you see a karaoke being treated as a saint! Only here in the Philippines, right?
The first thing you see when you enter a Filipino house is a karaoke dressed in floral outfit, for instance, like it’s being prepared for a procession (religious images in their regal outfits are paraded in the streets). I say it’s the first thing you notice as it is usually placed side by side the tv set, which normally what meets your eyes the moment you set foot in a Filipino house, or in a raised platform specially made for it (just like a Filipino fridge, although shorter by size it becomes 2 or 3 feet taller because we are too lazy to bend down to get something from it). Well, the fridge, again is another story. What’s inside this appliance is also very Filipino. Not with the vegies we have here but the yearlong supply of cold water in various bottles of various shapes and brands that fill up most of its space (to compensate for the lack of stocks).
I was actually inspired to write this blog following my tour inside Casa Manila.
Amanda Griffin (you heard it right!) toured me last Saturday in this famous 20-plus year old Spanish-style home built during the Marcos regime (you bet, it was one of Imelda’s projects, this one was for the American visitors). I really had no idea about this tourist attraction, which is inside the Intramuros, until Amanda showed it to me, well to the viewers of The Explorer.
The house, according to the tour guide Carlos, a gay Fil-Am (?), although built not during the Spanish colonialism, really looked like a century –old Spanish casa, with antique furnitures, fixtures etc, which showed vast history of my lahi (race), which is a mixture of so many other races: Chinese, as shown in how our windows are like (the sliding ones); American, chandeliers; Belgian where we borrowed our grand piano which none of the family members can play (according to Carlos and I agree with him); British, the four-poster beds (just like the beds of the royal); among many others. The only thing that is Filipino in this house are the inhabitants. But during the Spanish time there were Filipinos who looked and claimed they were Insular, a Spanish born in the Philippines, but the moment they opened their mouth…(We still have them now: those who dress like Americans, dye their hair like Reese Witherspoon-illegally blonde, peel their skin off to whiteness, and a lot more
idiosyncrasies).
Well, I got all that from Carlos, the very amusing and informative guide. He said so many things that made me laugh not only because he said them animatedly but because I knew they were true. Nope, we don’t have a grand piano and a karaoke at home.
See, how different my race is. What I’ve here is just a bit of the whole. So many things, stories, abilities, cultures, etc. that are so Filipino. Who says my race has no identity?!! My lahi is so lahi (unique)!
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Monday, August 29, 2005
how weird is the result!
| You Are 30% Weird |
 Not enough to scare other people... But sometimes you scare yourself. |
it's weird the test found me weird!!!
A trip to Labangon
What i had been through last night was not that memorable but I had to write it anyway, blog ko ‘to!
It was past 8 in the evening when Sona Mae, who could no longer contain her hunger after our planned bbq dinner was aborted (thanks to our ever busy editorial assistant, Jeff), insisted we go home immediately. I was hoping to stay longer as the Half-Blood Prince captivated the whole of me, including my empty stomach and exhausted brain, but I did not want to go home alone that rainy night. By the way, I could not bring the copy of that book as it was stored in my computer, an e-copy yeah, so I had to look forward to every minute I could squeeze into my hectic schedule just to read it.
So we braved the rains with only our copies of The Freeman as payong (umbrella).
Several minutes later we were still standing near UV Colon and no Pardo-bound PUJ was trying to save us. We even walked farther but only got more drenched and frustrated.
Then a Labangon PUJ “rescued” us, or so we thought. But that was actually a relief than having to wait forever for a Pardo jeep that would never arrive.
We were somewhere in Labangon, when Sona saw this eatery that served siomai. Food! So we alighted from our temporary refuge (from the cold rain) just to fill our gurgling stomachs.
This eatery, a table with an extension with large umbrellas, was situated just at the side of the busy street. I would have paid my day’s earning just to get a seat or two in a cozy place eating a decent meal but all I had that night was a hundred pesos so that left me (us) no choice. I was broke like I always am (I think I’m cursed).
Then we ate, and occasionally touched our backs to make sure the water pouring from the umbrella went straight to the ground. But it did not, the back of my jacket was already soaking wet, and sipped through my T-shirt. And I saw Sona had her share too.
For that meal- 4 siomais, 3 pork adobos or something porky, 5 pusos, a Coke (for me) and a bottled water (for Sona)- we paid almost a hundred, that’s divided by two. Not bad for a very hearty meal, but I already felt the cold in my back.
And then Sona said we had to ride a Labangod jeep. Again! I was thinking we were already near the place where multicabs going to the south were. We were still in Tisa, she said, quite far from where we should take our (her) last ride, so walking was out of the question. Well, another P6 to spend.
With only P50 in my pocket, taking a taxi cab was a preposterous idea, although I was thinking of stopping over Tabunok to withdraw but I was also thinking the next payday was four days away, that’s hundreds of pesos from my dwindling funds. Plus taking a cab these days is no longer practical that even riding a PUJ is almost becoming a luxury considering the unabated increase of fare.
Back to the story, so we stopped, as usual, at a bakeshop to wait for a multicab. Again, the wait was like that in Colon.
And finally, it arrived in all its glory, the red multicab to take me to Tabunok and Sona to Lawaan.
And from Tabunok I took a tricycle to get met to Dumlog and from a corner where I was dropped I took a trisikad as my place was still 500 meters or so away from the highway. And from where the trisikad stopped (I would not allow the driver to bring me to my doorstep as it would mean hearing him cursed for having to pull his trisikad that would likely get stuck to the muddy path we had there) I had to walk the remaining 100 meters or less. I was exactly doing that with only the partly dry newspaper as my payong.
And when I changed to a fresh T-shirt and pajamas (not fresh) I realized how great it was to be home. Well, that was not the first time.
It was past 8 in the evening when Sona Mae, who could no longer contain her hunger after our planned bbq dinner was aborted (thanks to our ever busy editorial assistant, Jeff), insisted we go home immediately. I was hoping to stay longer as the Half-Blood Prince captivated the whole of me, including my empty stomach and exhausted brain, but I did not want to go home alone that rainy night. By the way, I could not bring the copy of that book as it was stored in my computer, an e-copy yeah, so I had to look forward to every minute I could squeeze into my hectic schedule just to read it.
So we braved the rains with only our copies of The Freeman as payong (umbrella).
Several minutes later we were still standing near UV Colon and no Pardo-bound PUJ was trying to save us. We even walked farther but only got more drenched and frustrated.
Then a Labangon PUJ “rescued” us, or so we thought. But that was actually a relief than having to wait forever for a Pardo jeep that would never arrive.
We were somewhere in Labangon, when Sona saw this eatery that served siomai. Food! So we alighted from our temporary refuge (from the cold rain) just to fill our gurgling stomachs.
This eatery, a table with an extension with large umbrellas, was situated just at the side of the busy street. I would have paid my day’s earning just to get a seat or two in a cozy place eating a decent meal but all I had that night was a hundred pesos so that left me (us) no choice. I was broke like I always am (I think I’m cursed).
Then we ate, and occasionally touched our backs to make sure the water pouring from the umbrella went straight to the ground. But it did not, the back of my jacket was already soaking wet, and sipped through my T-shirt. And I saw Sona had her share too.
For that meal- 4 siomais, 3 pork adobos or something porky, 5 pusos, a Coke (for me) and a bottled water (for Sona)- we paid almost a hundred, that’s divided by two. Not bad for a very hearty meal, but I already felt the cold in my back.
And then Sona said we had to ride a Labangod jeep. Again! I was thinking we were already near the place where multicabs going to the south were. We were still in Tisa, she said, quite far from where we should take our (her) last ride, so walking was out of the question. Well, another P6 to spend.
With only P50 in my pocket, taking a taxi cab was a preposterous idea, although I was thinking of stopping over Tabunok to withdraw but I was also thinking the next payday was four days away, that’s hundreds of pesos from my dwindling funds. Plus taking a cab these days is no longer practical that even riding a PUJ is almost becoming a luxury considering the unabated increase of fare.
Back to the story, so we stopped, as usual, at a bakeshop to wait for a multicab. Again, the wait was like that in Colon.
And finally, it arrived in all its glory, the red multicab to take me to Tabunok and Sona to Lawaan.
And from Tabunok I took a tricycle to get met to Dumlog and from a corner where I was dropped I took a trisikad as my place was still 500 meters or so away from the highway. And from where the trisikad stopped (I would not allow the driver to bring me to my doorstep as it would mean hearing him cursed for having to pull his trisikad that would likely get stuck to the muddy path we had there) I had to walk the remaining 100 meters or less. I was exactly doing that with only the partly dry newspaper as my payong.
And when I changed to a fresh T-shirt and pajamas (not fresh) I realized how great it was to be home. Well, that was not the first time.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
you make me smile
One afternoon while I was riding a PUJ I saw a minicab (a multicab with a roofless back, you know what i mean) with a sign on its rear that read: “When I grow up I want to be a Nissan Patrol!”
I told a friend about this the next day. And this friend said she also saw a minicab (definitely a different one) with a sign: “When I grow up I want to be a dump truck!”
And in a PUJ: “My take home pay won’t take me home.” Cute.
It’s a relief to read these signs you see in the streets while the PUJ you're riding is stuck in middle of the unmoving traffic or when you see in front of you a poster that bears the title CERTIFICATION, which means you have to pay at least 6 pesos.
And recently, I created a group blog. I was about to update it but I could not. I forgot the password.
But nothing beats the East West Bank story.
I told a friend about this the next day. And this friend said she also saw a minicab (definitely a different one) with a sign: “When I grow up I want to be a dump truck!”
And in a PUJ: “My take home pay won’t take me home.” Cute.
It’s a relief to read these signs you see in the streets while the PUJ you're riding is stuck in middle of the unmoving traffic or when you see in front of you a poster that bears the title CERTIFICATION, which means you have to pay at least 6 pesos.
And recently, I created a group blog. I was about to update it but I could not. I forgot the password.
But nothing beats the East West Bank story.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Kids' stuff
last sunday night i went out with friends at a nearby resto which serves the most delicious halo-halo in the entire barangay (city actually).
seven of us were all seated and enjoying the treats and laughing at someone's corny jokes when suddenly a toddler, a two-year old i think, came to our table and was also laughing. Everyone stopped laughing to see what was this little being doing in our table. His big buddies, just across us, were just watching him. We thought he was attracted by our noise.
Then this cute creature slowly climbed to a vacant chair and confidently seated himself, and his looks was like “hi pips! care to chat?”
And we all laughed.
Goodness! Kids are really smart. This one thought he belonged to our group as there was one empty chair left while there was none for him in the table where his big buddies were. Well, his mom had to carry him with the chair as he did not want to go with her without it.
I remember a lecturer who once said children are born smart they become dumb when they go to school, where teachers are morons. (well, not all. but most)
seven of us were all seated and enjoying the treats and laughing at someone's corny jokes when suddenly a toddler, a two-year old i think, came to our table and was also laughing. Everyone stopped laughing to see what was this little being doing in our table. His big buddies, just across us, were just watching him. We thought he was attracted by our noise.
Then this cute creature slowly climbed to a vacant chair and confidently seated himself, and his looks was like “hi pips! care to chat?”
And we all laughed.
Goodness! Kids are really smart. This one thought he belonged to our group as there was one empty chair left while there was none for him in the table where his big buddies were. Well, his mom had to carry him with the chair as he did not want to go with her without it.
I remember a lecturer who once said children are born smart they become dumb when they go to school, where teachers are morons. (well, not all. but most)
Sunday, August 14, 2005
i'm a blog girl so what!
several months back i was asked what was a friend to me. someone who replies to my text message even if he/she has no load, was my answer. that was not too much to ask for, piso ra gud na. but i understand if that friend is living in a cave or a bukid where she is the only one who owns a cellphone.
then last month, i asked, thru text, a friend/workmate an update of a national news as during this particular day i had no access to the internet and newspapers. she did not reply so i was thinking she had no load. that night i was at friend's house then this friend received a forwarded message from my friend/workmate who was the former's common friend. then i murmured, "maayo, naay load para's way ayo!"
using my friend's phone i asked her nganong wala siya mo-reply nako importante man unta to and i was really expecting a response from her. guess what she told me, "my load is exclusive for smart subscribers." Mao ba, was all i said, while thinking of retaliating.
the next day was it. i received a text message from a new number, a TM, of which i immediately knew was hers (the friend/workmate) even if she did not bother to introduce herself. she sent several messages inviting me to a product demo where she was into at that time. so what could she expect from me for what she'd done the day before. for the first time since we became friends i did not reply to any of her messages.
so the next day when we met at the office, she was like "hey that was my new number exclusive for my Globe and TM friends" and "why wala man ka ni-reply?" and i told her, "so you know the feeling na?" and smiled.
but that was forgotten as it was just a minor, a very minor "lapse of judgment." i admit i'm a jealous friend like God is a jealous God :)
then a few weeks back, we, this friend/workmate and i, again clashed and blame it on texting! she asked me to check her stories if they were carried for the next day's issue and to tell the editor she would email her stories in 20 mins. the meek me did as was told even if it was against my will, not that i did not want to check if her stories were really carried and her emailing them (that's just a feet away from my workstation). my point was we all came to the office to write our stories while she was somewhere, probably at the comfort of her home, waiting for the sun to set so she could submit her stories. i understood she came from the south to "get" her stories and she must have been too tired to go to the office which is an hour away from her house. granted it was true: her being tired and all, could't she just go to the office as what was required to each one of us.
but even with my hesitation to become an accessory, again, to her "laziness" i still informed the editor on her emailed stories. the editor said "nasad!" but what could he do? they've already reprimanded her for doing it but she never learnt.
to make the long story short i told her what the editor said and she was so angry that she sent her message supposedly for that editor to me. then the boot-boot me replied by saying i had nothing against the editor's comment, walang personalan, i added. and then she felt like i was rallying against her and replied i should have saved my comment. i did not as i had enough of her being what she was with her work. we have been asked to take an extra mile pero she's like 'kiver!'
and because of that she was ranting and calling me names (thru text) i never thought she had the nerve to. she even tagged me a "blog girl" so what? that was just the 'softer' part, actually.
so now, we no longer talk, what for? but i feel guilty for it as practically everyone at the office is not in talking terms with her. i did not tell my other workmates [save for those close(?) to me] our falling out as i wanted it "private" as much as possible but they're reporters, they kinda hinted it. well, she's doing her job, too, by telling her fellow reporters from other networks about us, duh!
the sad thing about this is her being alone. a few days back she came to the office late and was greeted by a memo for her not in her beat that morning. i heard so many negative feedbacks about her and i do not want to add anymore to that.
lesson learnt: not all close to you are real friends. sad but true.
then last month, i asked, thru text, a friend/workmate an update of a national news as during this particular day i had no access to the internet and newspapers. she did not reply so i was thinking she had no load. that night i was at friend's house then this friend received a forwarded message from my friend/workmate who was the former's common friend. then i murmured, "maayo, naay load para's way ayo!"
using my friend's phone i asked her nganong wala siya mo-reply nako importante man unta to and i was really expecting a response from her. guess what she told me, "my load is exclusive for smart subscribers." Mao ba, was all i said, while thinking of retaliating.
the next day was it. i received a text message from a new number, a TM, of which i immediately knew was hers (the friend/workmate) even if she did not bother to introduce herself. she sent several messages inviting me to a product demo where she was into at that time. so what could she expect from me for what she'd done the day before. for the first time since we became friends i did not reply to any of her messages.
so the next day when we met at the office, she was like "hey that was my new number exclusive for my Globe and TM friends" and "why wala man ka ni-reply?" and i told her, "so you know the feeling na?" and smiled.
but that was forgotten as it was just a minor, a very minor "lapse of judgment." i admit i'm a jealous friend like God is a jealous God :)
then a few weeks back, we, this friend/workmate and i, again clashed and blame it on texting! she asked me to check her stories if they were carried for the next day's issue and to tell the editor she would email her stories in 20 mins. the meek me did as was told even if it was against my will, not that i did not want to check if her stories were really carried and her emailing them (that's just a feet away from my workstation). my point was we all came to the office to write our stories while she was somewhere, probably at the comfort of her home, waiting for the sun to set so she could submit her stories. i understood she came from the south to "get" her stories and she must have been too tired to go to the office which is an hour away from her house. granted it was true: her being tired and all, could't she just go to the office as what was required to each one of us.
but even with my hesitation to become an accessory, again, to her "laziness" i still informed the editor on her emailed stories. the editor said "nasad!" but what could he do? they've already reprimanded her for doing it but she never learnt.
to make the long story short i told her what the editor said and she was so angry that she sent her message supposedly for that editor to me. then the boot-boot me replied by saying i had nothing against the editor's comment, walang personalan, i added. and then she felt like i was rallying against her and replied i should have saved my comment. i did not as i had enough of her being what she was with her work. we have been asked to take an extra mile pero she's like 'kiver!'
and because of that she was ranting and calling me names (thru text) i never thought she had the nerve to. she even tagged me a "blog girl" so what? that was just the 'softer' part, actually.
so now, we no longer talk, what for? but i feel guilty for it as practically everyone at the office is not in talking terms with her. i did not tell my other workmates [save for those close(?) to me] our falling out as i wanted it "private" as much as possible but they're reporters, they kinda hinted it. well, she's doing her job, too, by telling her fellow reporters from other networks about us, duh!
the sad thing about this is her being alone. a few days back she came to the office late and was greeted by a memo for her not in her beat that morning. i heard so many negative feedbacks about her and i do not want to add anymore to that.
lesson learnt: not all close to you are real friends. sad but true.
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