the stories, the snootiness

"Because you're poor, when calamity strikes, you're rendered incapacitated and at the peril of tragedy."

That is what actually the West utters about the Philippines Typhoon Haiyan experience. I can feel the derision on the Tube. It wouldn't happen to the Empire, they have the sturdier, listed structures (yeah). Planning permissions are needed for construction of any kind. My husband doesn't need to elucidate his thoughts. As I was back reading the news alerts, PAG -ASA or even Joint Typhoon Weather Center in Hawaii didn't illustrate clearly the definite storm surge that was going to hit land, specifically in Tacloban. They only said signal number one in the Visayas days before, upgrade to signal number four on the day itself (when the wind speed and the surge are on their deadliest) and Manila would experience residual rains. We were used to typhoons of the past (trees are usually uprooted) but they were not strong enough to topple every wooden property and blow away roofs made of dainty, cheap materials or 35 feet or more of water surge and wind speed so quick and strong. It was The Three Little Pigs in real time with a huge flood. Even if you had a very modern house, if it was not very high, chances of drowning was huge. If the warnings and paths were issued accurately, every resident of those affected areas should have boarded the C130 days before.

Houses and buildings made of concrete are more expensive to construct than the Bahay Kubo. Majority don't even have the plot of land to build a humble abode, the word is informal settler. Counting all the factors involved, lessons are learned but tell that to the victims who lost entire families. How do you appease hunger and a broken soul? How would you ever recover?

The politicians even played politics in the aftermath, just because they can, the nerve. If there was immediate response to the disaster, a descent into lawlessness would never happen. The government with their helicopters and satellite phone should have moved quickly.

Yet, the international community have been really helpful. A colleague from Africa even commented on the amount of aid  extended to the Philippines. Well, RP always thinks the US of A as kindred spirit, so the US Marines are really helpful with logistics.

This calamity hurts, makes one humble. Other countries can only give aid and stare at our plight and they continue with their very commercialised Christmas traditions. We take stock and reflect of those people who are experiencing nightmares, my fellow Visayans, and we should help in whatever ways to our Kababayans.

you said, you have problems?

It's a devastation that is not only close to home. It is home.

There's a colleague who had a family who didn't eat for days. We have Tacloban, a provincial capital being reduced to wasteland. Lives are lost.

I know strong winds. It's a staple in our lives. During the many hours of blackouts during the most catastrophic of typhoons growing up, all I could think of was, "please, don't blow away the roof, if the roof goes, what will become of us?" But as time goes by, the winds are getting fiercer, more menacing. When I rang home a few hours ago, there's substantial damage to our roof that needs repair.

But order is still in Bacolod, it's not as bad as in Leyte. The hubby was talking about our infrastructures not up to scratch. We should not live in wooden houses. Yes, because in a country where most people live below poverty line, the first thing we secure is the most expensive of materials for our shelter, brick and stones for every one. Forget about food, forget about water, forget about clothing, forget about the minuscule salary, forget staying alive.

But despite the hardships, the fatalities, we take stock about our lives and have this will power to be grateful and also to help out in every little way possible. Just imagine yourself losing loved ones, starving and wrestling with mosquitoes and a sense of helplessness.

One day, we won't have shanties in the Philippines. We won't have floods? When a super typhoon is about to hit, we will evacuate every single individual who live in wooden houses and let them stay where? Hotels? Shopping Centres?

As of now, we lend a helping hand, make a contribution, in whatever form.

theme

these are such lovely presents from auntie vanessa. we gave alexandra a tiny fairy book with sounds. in return, we got a myriad of items. some people are just too kind.

no twists, no turns

photo credit

 Huwag Ka Lang Mawawala has been over for more than a week and I'm wondering about an alternate ending. The shortest Judy Ann Santos soap ever left me gasping for a little bit more polish to the development of its lead characters. But television is a writer's medium. They control the reins and if they want to make an advocacy out of Eros and Anessa then we should have seen a far better presentation of women empowerment. To make it more convincing, it would have been prudent to shatter the chemistry between the two leads from the beginning rather than the wooing and cooing amid the photogenic backdrop of the asinan.

As it turned out, Eros became the villain du jour during the finale week, pushed towards the loony bin after the denouement at the rooftop. He reminded me of the Piolo Pascual character in Esperanza The Movie. I get his dad Romulos' ( Tirso Cruz III is so damn brilliant) inducement but Eros' kind of wavers with his emotions.  He loves, he beats up the mothers of his sons, he's a good father, he pounced Anessa's brother Leandros to smithereens.

As for Anessa, she stood her ground with her martial arts skills, maybe that's a good thing for the so-called advocacy  bad for that bit of romance. In another storyline, she could live happily ever after with her son's father. But for now, it's curtain call to 10 weeks of streams with plot by plot coverage on twitter and instagram uploads from some cast members that is only all too prescient for the ordinary viewer.

a craving, for siesta

i don't know if it's just the physiology of getting older but i find myself craving for loads and loads of siesta hours these days. a little snooze at midday is all i need to recharge and revitalise the dwindling energy.

but at this point, siesta is more often a dream, when not at work, the few quiet moments when little girl is asleep for a bit longer is few (or never?). the routine revolves around preparing my beautiful girl's solid meals, feeding her and making sure she doesn't enhance any more of her climbing skills. I'm on alert during her every waking second.

so baking, (like polishing our process of making ensaymada) or learning to knit is relegated to the list of future hobbies. if jan is kind enough to bring us another of her masterpieces (the ensaymada pictured above) when she comes to visit, that would be fantastic. she's fab.

perhaps if i promise to minimise if not utterly eliminate time wasting, like reading rubbish in the gossip pages, on the web and social media, knowing that tidying up takes hours, I'll feel refreshed, no need for a few minutes of daytime sleep.

love piaya!

thanks to ofie and her mr. ramos.
the delicacy.

too fast? rush to the finish

as a judy ann santos fan, I follow/consume her every project. my world stops when she has a soap (as the hubby pointed succinctly) that's only every three years since '07. in ysabella, i rooted for ysay to end up with albert amarillo, that didn't happen. in habang may buhay, we know who was her principal partner but jane losing her life to a rampaging diminutive doctor? the main character dying in the end was innovative but gladys reyes on a killing spree? it's still mind-boggling.

huwag ka lang mawawala, meanwhile, is fast-paced. by the third episode, anessa is married to eros. by the week's end, she's a battered wife. well and good. i can also ignore a few holes in the storyline (whatever become of aling demetria heart condition?, etc). it's mainly eros' motivation that is perplexing, his temper and violence is downright opposite of that guy who made a romantic proposal by stopping a bus. he has no balls to stand up to his father, so he's violent? I'm lost in the psychology of human behaviour. how could he point a gun to a woman who made him happy? i thought anessa and with his wealth as back up, is the love of his life? he vowed to make her pay for putting him in jail, but wasn't he guilty dealing with smuggled diamonds, which she witnessed?

in the highlight scenes, eros not trying to find his wife in the streams, in the kakahuyan with the baby in tow is quite odd. leaving anessa for dead, not knowing the fate of the mother of his child? he might as well pull the trigger. although the smacking, the gun-toting tactics leading to the river shots are also confusing.

for the women empowerment theme, anessa's emotions are consistent. she's tough but she also has fairy godmothers to help her recover from a gunshot wound, learn Krav Maga and get a degree. in real life, fairy godmothers don't usually exist. yes, women should flee from abusive marriages and sometimes, the stories we hear and read, are heartbreaking. if only we could eliminate all the rage that makes men monsters.

as for performances, it's a given that the senior stars are excellent. judy ann santos has the power to control her tears (a drop shines like a diamond) so she's beyond mesmerising (I'm biased). i'd rather watch KC in tweetums roles (you can always show depth without playing an antagonistic part). but she's ready for deeper, meatier portrayals. sam milby oozes appeal despite playing a character with no backbone.
how will the writers rehabilitate eros in the end? if at all. why not stretch this series into 12 weeks? because judy ann has to give way to the young stars of today? i very seldom watch performers below the age of 35. with the advancement in viewing habits, time is precious commodity and I'm just showing my age.

high speed bike chase

in the slums. in the heaviest of Manila's traffic. the only reason I seek the Bourne Legacy (haven't seen all the previous Bourne films) because a few shots used my country's capital as a glorious backdrop. and movies sell more than documentaries. and blockbusters sell to the favoured denomination, of the portion of the global population who don't require to think, but just to watch, observe and follow. however long it took me to decipher (i'm a slow learner) that RP may not yet boast of elegance in its various metropolis. but when it comes to natural landscape, chicken barbecue and warmth of its guest relations committee, we're the sweet icing.

as for Jeremy Renner and Rachel Weisz, the film is too light for their range. but hope they enjoyed the views in Palawan (the closing credit scene in the boat).

invites

our prep wasn't that much but too many for only three guests. in actuality, it's more expensive to go to sushi restaurants or travel and book hotels than mapping out a do without paying for the venue. as my baby shower last year fell on my birthday, i thought why not recreate the sparkle, let's conduct a dry run for baby girl's first birthday using my 39th natal day as gauge. this time. three.

if my fair weathers are the gauge, then it's kind of bare and sad. but then it has to be with like-minded people, kindred spirits and the likes, or there would be frozen shoulders all around. however, the enemies would refuse by the mere thought of just going near my vicinity.

but i still ordered too many empanadas. someone who does like seeing food wasted ( just think of those who are starving), i'm now stuffed on carbs. it means, i have to stretch, move and shake.

fly high RP

searching for inspiration on how the dear old motherland would excel, i recalled Ryan's friend, thought of my maternal grandmother and the great aunts, tried to observe the gamut of my friendships, read and read some more. some of the guys amongst my Facebook friends have deep philosophic political opinions (c'mon ladies!). during my school years, the girls got the highest grades and win the top student electoral posts and all other positions, go to places (literally). now the ladies just want to be mothers (harder than anything).

I'm talking politics because it's the key to empowerment. Enacting laws to change the status quo like the RH bill, passing legislation like mandating big business to end contractual employment to their staff, providing social and health benefits, pushing the citizenry to work harder, promoting good government that the rebel forces would just die a natural death, vanishing red tape. but in hindsight, despite moments of grave hunger, we don't wallow in depression. we thrive with our happy spirit. living in the catacombs does not shatter the disposition.

however, there is that leeway to polish the gem. work only, no parties? trimming the excess baggage is not that hard.

continue to innovate

saw this article from my tita wan's Facebook page, an article from The Economist and I know it looks good. but thinking above and beyond, I long for the days the RP no longer have to rely from the diaspora, the diligence and fortitude of a myriad of overseas workers providing for a unit of society. numbers and ratings are good. but we are standing on earthquake-prone grounds. as long as our workers search for greener pastures beyond our shores and our level of comfort is not yet competitive with the leading economies, life would continue to be a struggle for majority of the population. how to bridge the gap with the G8 nations is the topic of discourse. a world and future; where the Philippine educational system is on top of the totem pole, where our universities are the Ivy League and Oxbridge of the present; where our power lines are hidden in underground cables; where we observe risk and safety measures in our construction sites; where slums and poverty may not be non-existent but becoming obsolete; where the bread winners, the movers and shakers are not subsisting on paltry pay.

however at this point, as our countrymen in Taiwan are fearing for their lives and we face discrimination in whatever country we go, it's time to saturate, to find ways to improve our lives and slowly reach the plateau, it usually starts with a creative idea (to continue).

trajectory

whenever i come across Amalia Fuentes' name on an article, my mom instantly comes to mind. she was such a huge fan of the former movie queen that she kept scrapbooks. i spent hours staring at those artefacts as a youngster and i've never seen anyone more radiant than the Amalia in those pictures. those scrapbooks probably got lost in some shuffle and i'm still trying to figure out how exactly they vanished into oblivion. but as the images are kept in the recesses of memory, the positive and negative side of any Amalia news, are most welcome. because of the acerbic public persona, she's the antagonist to Susan Roces' protagonist. sweet is best? sweet is stale?

trolls?

when i last posted a comment on JZ's blog ( ages ago), it wasn't published. it was about the link between show business and the old Etonians and Oxbridge hybrids. it wasn't derogatory, the author just thought it was a contrasting opinion and it might smudge the essence of her piece. but trolls not moderated properly for this celebrity's blog? poor girl. her theme is very light, mostly travels and food. it's refreshing to read articles from mainstream media personalities. most slebs probably litter their writing with dangling syntax. we'll never know because we seldom read their columns or blogs not slashed mightily by well-intentioned editors. they're mostly performers but a little bit of good blogging would add gravitas. this young lady sings, acts, compose songs. she has style. she is on a daily noontime show (which I have never seen). she has more than a million twitter followers (fewer than most of her contemporaries) but compared to the rival which most of the acerbic curmudgeons identify (would love to say the B word), she is not masa and in the social media age, that not even megastars are spared from haters (come to think of it, just an online article provokes anger), she gets hit by arrows and extremely sharp knives. yet, she doesn't make patol (speaking like ate Shawie) or stoop to such low levels.

an hour and a half

I've been hibernating for more than an hour in a quiet, serene corner. Little girl is asleep in the cot next to me. I'm tired but slowly recharging my energy to tackle a few more kitchen work. I should be finishing the baby's photo book. I still need a few more pictures to upload from hub's phone for its completion.

This week I've been percolating about the culture divide, why it's so difficult for some people to practice courtesy, politeness, a little bit of manners. I throw a strop more often than I would like but I'm prudent enough to adhere to my mom's words in perpetuity. Smile. Be friendly.

It's hard for some, behaving with complete and utter snobbery towards those not in their peer group, as if they're Royalty and we have to bow and curtsey. Is it pride? Vengeance for sins of centuries past or the simmering tension of integration? They were raised in a loud, chaotic abode? Their school system was all about the noise? I don't know, a simple smile would do.

In social media, we have to be vague or we could hurt ardent allies, real or imaginary. But we observe, we take down notes and proceed with caution. In the daily briefings, we know whom to like, that's a more basic instinct.

a rare piece of gem

march has been very busy. maybe i move annoyingly like a snail or as dear old nambiar used to say in the old days, "you move so slow." was she referring to all my countrymen colleagues or just me? who knows, but we're the newest tiger in the world and you can criticise and criticise at your peril but we have the grand work ethic plus pleasing-to-the-eyes penmanship.

but as i was digressing, the main topic would be baby girl's milestones, she got christened on the tenth and turned eight months on the 13th. it took a while for the former, finding a church and venue. i still see church as a social platform, whether in catholic, baptist, evangelical terms, whatever form of Christianity. but the hubby has his views. i will discuss those very opinions further next time (or not, depends on the available moments) but the gist is, people should be kind and helpful (and stop hurtful, idle gossips as shown on Brocka's Tinimbang ka Ngunit Kulang).

speaking of social platforms, almost nobody i invited really came to my rescue on the 10th, not that i invited a village, just the minimum that would fit in the abode. but only my oldest, dearest friend Honey offered to help out (despite her cousin's second son first birthday on the very day, so she had to rush) with her hubby and my godson, giving me and the family a lift and helping change baby girl. whilst i just pulled ate Luisa (very kind lady) from the tube station. she accompanied me to get the cake amid the brutal chilly and windy climate. the hubby is asking if i deliberately set out to befriend mean people. he had four reliable Spurs cohorts to his side in addition to his mom and colleague while i had nobody after three pm. my answer is beyond me, maybe i'm not that important and those who can provide copious amounts of karaoke magical time are the more relevant entities in their circles.

i was working the two nights before the event, my spirit was deflated and although the vermicelli was gorgeous, the mother in law wants "food." what do the English eat in their parties? let's scrutinise; sandwiches, then a few more sandwiches, or crisps and more crisps or other mild next to nothings like mashed potatoes with vegetable and meat on the side? i should look at the mildly flavoured menu at work.

gatherings are all about the common denominator. we gravitate towards like-minded persons. with my baby shower for instance, i invited people from work as they know each other, i saw Honey the day after at Waterloo. i've also been in a confined-spaced party, knowing no one but the hosts, and felt such a saling-pusa. i observed and blogged about it. being with people is all about the learning experience. the Pinoys love their food, the English enjoy their drinks. if a highly-conservative churchgoer, purveyor of chika, sees someone with alcohol in hand, she prays for eternal damnation.

this was yesterday

since our christmas tree was set up, I've been scouring the shops with the aid of telepathy for Christmas trimmings. since telepathy is science fiction, the tree remains lifeless (can't push prams) turn the lights on however and it's magic.

with typhoons, shootings, even fires afflicting a contained populace, Christmas should be in our hearts (love Jose Mari Chan!). look unto ourselves how to be like Mother Theresa even though we're not Catholic (tall order). the presents with their nicely tied ribbons are lovely. but action speaks louder than any inanimate objects in a sparkling wrapper.

noche buena

celebrated noche buena for the first time in a decade just by myself. did a bit of cooking or the hubby did more but it certainly was a team effort. i cleaned the fish anyway for the escabeche.

i have no romantic notion about Christmas. being Scrooge doesn't hurt despite the literary masterpiece of Dickens. those who toil on Christmas Day every year are to be commended including some close friends, doing night shifts, working on the day itself. dinner parties are the last things on their minds or feeling forlorn, having to deal with the battles of life.

hard on the back, the mind

buying a property and moving digs are both incredibly hellish experiences. if only, there's a short cut to skip the soul-breaking process. if only we have the money, not needing a mortgage. if only, down payments are acquired with flick of a wand or a click of the fingers, just by magic or fairy dusts. if only, comfort is just there. but there have been morsels of wisdom i've acquired through the ordeal. first, fiscal prudence -- buying only essentials, attenuating whimsy, no more books (in fairness, the sweet one hard-bounds take up more space than my paperbacks), no more magazines ( i will throw away loads in the next few days), no more shopping for clothes that serve no purpose (not really, but give up the old, tattered ones). second, invest in a proper shredder (some archaic receipts encroach on the living area). third, at least minimise the procrastination -- there are tons of chores to do, the clock ticks, the baby wails. fourth, invest in good and proper friendships (they may help out, if not to move, assemble the flat packs? too much? give advice? emotional support?). fifth, still percolating.
tick, tock.

that's the way

it's annoying to wallow, to procrastinate. i could blame baby girl. but it's all me. i'm the one that's slow and all too sublunary.

it was illuminating to catch up with joy during her stopover at Heathrow, on a break from her Singapore-Baltimore flight at the beginning of the month. the last time i saw her was nine years ago. nothing's changed basically, we can still talk. i got lost in between terminals and with so little time. i should have read the fine print of her itinerary. the wi-fi sucks a bit but twitter works. hurray to twitter! probably if i cajoled her to write and write, she would resurrect her blog, she's such a good writer, she should be heard.

was able to organise a get-together with the high school friends last week. it was only for the very few, the very minimum. i've learned a lot about the deeper tenets of investments, knowing about holiday resorts in what was a hidden enclave of the home province. the only downside was that Westfield was closed for an hour to give way to the Kardashians. honestly. the old lady we asked, said Kim Basinger was coming. then an hour later we saw the posters of the sisters promoting their new line of clothes for Dorothy Perkins. the highest gravitas are given to lifestyle reality people. yes.

thanks, murks

My second grade classmate (with gaps in between, until high school), Murky, sent me a package of various items a week ago, just a pair of slippers (above), a pair of trainers, a Ralph Lauren sleep suit, all for baby girl. And a top for me. Realising that we haven't seen each other since secondary school graduation (more than 21 years ago), all I can mutter is "she's really sweet." A few BFF's couldn't even return my text or text me without prodding or email me back for formality's sake or take time to surprise me with a few words. While Murks answers mails in a jiffy. And based from her timeline, she spoils her Facebook throng with updates. Three active children with energy-deflating school runs and activities, living in Maryland, thousands of miles away from her family do not wither her spirits.

Some people couldn't help but be good natured. Murks was not only a preeminent soprano in our award-winning elementary school choir (not to mention her church choir) but she's a grizzled arts and crafts practitioner. The trinket she sent me during my last birthday was very thoughtful. So, in earnest I've been fortunate to have met Murks when were eight. I wish her all the Hallmark moments in life. She deserves her beautiful family.

Of course there are others who are quick on their touch screens to perk me up from the mundane -- Honey, Zany, and Ryan. Let's add Julie as well.