luminous

Metro Manila, PHILIPPINES


Joined December 4th 2006

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As I'm writing this, I've done lunch and in my desk watching WOWOWEE, the daily children's party that Filipinologists make sure they watch live whenever they're in town. I'm told that there are such people; who are in love with everything Filipino, including the said lunchtime show.

Speaking from a purely boobtube viewer standpoint, the show is very entertaining for the child in me.

In fact, in our clan reunion last Christmas we even played the incredibly childish game of HEP-HEP-HOORAY in four categories so everybody got to know the new members of the clan: Teenagers (who only see each other on Christmas and are twistfully shy making friends); Kids (who can't concentrate away from PSPs to play well); Mamas who had the most fun and made the most noise; and Papas (who fought to the finish ala Manny Pacquiao and me egging them on screaming "Sino dyan si de la Joya?" at the top of my lungs).

Of course the clan elders were front seat watching their genes at play in their progeny. Of course, the Papas had to be dragged from outside where they were smoking, discussing investment prospects for the coming year and laughing at front page news reports.

Of course, the two most affluent in the clan donated the prizes for the HEP-HEP game.

Of course, the prizes under the tree wrapped up by the host Lola turned out to be Macy's Pre-Christmas sale bags sent via balikbayan box. The tired Emcees (master of ceremonies) took it as consolation prizes and got a shrieking surprise. I was lucky enough to get a patent leather purse done in black & white cheques but ended up swapping it for a chinese silk eyeglass bag and leather coin purse with my cousin who eyed the bag dreamily.

The game show host of WOWOWEE (whose earnings supposedly rivaled that of Manny Pacquiao's before the latter wisened up & got a percentage of paper view) is aptly described in the local parlance as "kenkoy"; a post-WWII Filipino magazine cartoon character who parts his hair in the middle and applies thick grease ala John Travolta and sports a black tuxedo.

The singers in the show, amateur or professional, invariably sing live and are always excellent. In this country, if you can't sing live and project at performance levels you don't get the time of day from anyone, no kidding.

We had an Asian- American NYU student we took around the country some ten years back. We took him to Mindanao and as we were winding up his exposure trip we sampled the night life in what is now refugee-ridden Cotabato City after the latest peace talks broke down with the Muslims. We did karaoke, after he said he was the best karaoke singer in Manhattan with a repertoire of Frank Sinatra songs.

We entered the club as the microphone was being passed around the tables. We took a table, ordered the usual San Miguels and thought about which songs we wanted to sing. Ever attentive on his Philippine exposure mode, he listened to each and every person to whom the mike was passed in the four or five tables until the mike came to our table.

He asked us to go first, so we sang our requested songs with me drunkenly belting out "Bed of Roses". After which he gracefully passed up singing his requested song "New York, New York". "Sh..t" he must've thought "who could've figured they could sing so well in this G--forsaken furthest nook of the country?"

There's an e-group that condemns WOWOWEE as projecting a denigrating image of the Phils. I can't be a member of that.

If its such a hit I refuse to even consider the proposition that its denigrating.

Filipinos are Filipinos are Filipinos no matter where you find them.

The belly dancers may be objected to as sexist but watch out for the men in the audience as the cameras pan this way and that. These men who look with a child's appreciation of the surgical make-over the girls go through (from the nose or boob job to the skin whitening to the hair straightening to the liposuction, etc., etc) knowing there's a family happily waiting for the paycheck at home. Of course there's the other kind of man audience too; but you can blame their women-folk for not bringing them up right; right?

Also, in the two-income family environment we have in this country where the women usually earn more than the men, the men pay attention when the women want to have their say.

Hillary fans rue Obama's victory in Manhattan but two women presidents in this country take the worst political pot shots (including the assassination of a beloved husband and father) that would shrivel up most men. Women senators are dime a dozen here and it is culturally acceptable (at least they rarely get beaten up these says) to dress up as a woman and go to the men's bathroom for a piss.

If we are sexist, we are tolerably so. Tolerance levels in this country are very high; even to a fault. Why?

Tolerance is in the genes. It comes with multi-cultural diversity and a deep love for peace for the enjoyment of family.

We are not backward, stupid, parochial, crabby or whatever else the disillusioned want to say to justify their leaving this country for greener pastures. (With global warming, this side of the world is now literally THE greener pasture).

Jose Rizal quoting Morga and in turn quoted by the group of Filipinos who first climbed Mt. Everest and are now embarked on a mid-2009 sailboat journey to Europe on boats to be built by the Islamized and severely marginalized Badjao tribe -- "when the Spanish landed in our shores they found Latin-speaking natives".

They embark on the journey to prove that before Spain "discovered" these Islands, we had already gone to Europe and back via the current that runs somewhere in the Pacific. (And they admit to having no previous experience with sailing!!! Hehehe, maybe the Badjao's ancestral spirits will accompany them.)

So here's to WOWOWEE fans worldwide. Cheers!



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My baby boy is better than sex, better than a career, fame and wealth put together, better than anything else this world has to offer.

Not sacrifice but yes a lot of it; Not drudgery but it feels just like it.

To care for an infant that is completely dependent on you for its survival and emotional nurturing; to lay him flat between your breasts under the morning sun and feel the physical burst of joy pulsating from your heart; to watch him grow a little each day in interaction with a world you so carefully built for him, rising somehow to every challenge and overcoming difficulties -- is a gift.

It’s really being reborn myself, appreciating the world as a child again even as I stare menopause in the eye and just flash it a smile.

With a straight face I declare: my son’s birth allowed me to grasp and share the divine impulse for Creation.

However, I must confess as well that freedom from "bringing up" (to speed) the other man-child, ie, the father, is also bliss.

I hope this blog is not misunderstood to be some form of man-hating spree. I hold nothing against the biological father and will be good friends with this man till i get over peri-, proper- and post- menopause while he will get over his (but that will be something worth seeing).

The maternal instinct I feel exclusively for this child is something I have no right to expect from anyone else, certainly not even the father even though they are also genetically bonded.

And so, I consciously cultivate a bond between the child and his absent father. We get a big kick out of identifying each body part as being mom’s or dad’s contribution.

I exert effort to make the child understand that the infrequent visit, although painful as it approaches its end, is not equivalent to a lack of love or caring for him by his father. It is just one difficult circumstance in a life that is otherwise joyful.

When the time comes that he must know his father better, I hope to share that joy with him as well.

I guess, the boy understands from the love he first learned from his own mother.

He sings in the bath and is a marvel at entertaining himself with the depth of imagination that an "only child" develops an aptitude for.

Self-esteem is built this way. Call it EQ if you like.

I observe this confidence in the way my child makes and keeps friends and with the way he stands his own ground with bullies or vexing children or even his own mother pestering him with daily 20 minute modules to read and write in a hundred easy lessons. At first pre-school day he showed no separation anxiety but only a sense of adventure.

Although I won't idealize or fictionalize him. Being an only child of a working mom, he of course has attention deficiency from Disney and Cartoon Network channels. I had to cut cable when he turned 7. (I have to do a sequel of this when I get the time as the boy is now 8 with his grades hanging by a thread and me tutoring from the "home office". The Dad, after an extended visit, wants to come live with us but still has to work a lot of things out.)

For these reasons I highly recommend parenting to everyone with simple advice: put love well in advance and well in priority over discipline.

Listen to your child, he teaches you more about life and love than you think you already know. If you're lucky, you’ll get a million hugs in return and you might even get a 6 year old losing sleep over your few and far between girls night in such touching adult-like concern.

So come home early and embrace your son and each moment with him.

The childhood goes by so fast and before you know it another heartrending shoe size is due and its you who'se getting the hand-me-down shoe!!

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Montserrat

December 16th 2008 04:37

Monte”; “Mountain”; “Ser” “To be”; “Sierra” “Land”... These are what her name suggests -- my Filipina friend from Madrid who cooks Paella with a Passion.

She is worried about WHALE SHARKS who LOST THEIR WAY (“Migrated to more hospitable waters”, I thought) due to the GLOBAL WARMING’s effect on Ocean Currents.

She hails from SORSOGON where the GENTLEST CREATURES ON THE PLANET the Plankton-eating whale sharks (we locals call “BUTANDING”) have migrated making the place a tourist trap all year round.

After cavorting in a deep cove with the friendly whale sharks, a tourist can take a banca ride down a river lit up like the Louvre at night lined on either side; not by romantic french streetlights but by fireflies populating the riverbank trees. The banca ride ends by entering not a Gothic Cathedral but a Cathedral Cave. I have gone as far as the cavorting part but the banca ride we missed and my high-school friends are planning a trip there and I am sorely tempted to come.

We are from a country where the MOST CHILDISH & MOST CHILD-LIKE PEOPLE ON THE PLANET, the Filipinos, hail from.

Not two years ago, the VATICAN declared that it was FINALLY LEGAL for Filipinos to VENERATE the CHRIST-CHILD (we locals call THE SANTO NIÑO and we have been dressing up the CHILD in all manner of garment and feasting in HIS NAME for centuries).

A place called “Muntinlupa” (meaning “little earth”) an hour’s ride to the South of Manila prides itself in its town fiesta celebrating the feast of its patron, the Santo NiÑo, with 40 brass bands parading the narrow streets each year and every home serving a welcoming feast (according the financial capacities of the hosts but a feast, no less) to all the visiting relatives and friends.

To this day, with little less than half the population allegedly living below poverty line, one can die very early from cholesterol overdose and/or liver failure and/or diabetes if one makes a career out of attending town fiestas in this country.

Culturally, we are the FRENCH in this part of ASIA. (Yes, people, I am entitled to my opinion.) Haute Couture and other arts we RULE in this part of ASIA. We are natural Fashionistas and the UKAY-UKAY is a GODSEND because with it we can indulge our HUNGER for ART IN CLOTHING.

We are the largest Per Capita consumer/user of CELLPHONES and PRE-PAID/POST PAID MOBILE LINES WORLDWIDE. But this is also a GODSEND because with it we keep in touch and keep our beloved safe despite the harsh environment we have allowed ourselves to live in -- because of our CHILD-LIKENESS.

We are the largest Per Nuclear Family (at least one from each family) EXPORTER OF HUMAN RESOURCES WORLDWIDE and our relatives abroad survive on the highest EMOTIONAL QUOTIENT to adapt to and survive any and all prejudice and strange cultures/situations that are encountered.

It used to be the FRENCH MAID that was the trés chic acquisition; now its the FILIPINA DOMESTIC (but watch out how you treat them, they have a large FAMILY pining at home for them).

The downside is that the new generation of "export products" undergo a Diploma-Mill-Far-Away-From-Ho me process locally and that hardly equips them with the required EQ survival kit. (A cellphone is nothing with no one at home who understands what your text message is saying.)

We Love MANNY PACQUIAO and when he’s in a fight, the whole country coops itself up indoors and the crime rate dives down to zero to watch the fight.

But IF we are a country and IF we are ONE people, what is Heaven's name does a country of children do when they finally decide to GROW UP?

Home is an ARCHIPELAGO which is a very fragile ecosystem ... forested watershed to headwaters to rivers and streams emptying into deep bays where BUTANDING open their gargantuan mouths to filter krill. And they CANNOT eat silt and mine tailings along with it.

If the world’s gentlest whale sharks leave our shores where do they go next?

And what do we do when the richest soils (“Give us the island of Mindoro and we can feed your whole country; give us the island of Mindanao and we can feed the world” -- anonymous Israelite); the longest, most ecologically diversified coastlines (Tubattaha Reef); the gentlest and most charming people (CAREGIVERS All, born and raised in the Retirement Hub this side of the World), FINALLY GIVE OUT from SYSTEMATICAL ABUSE with politician CHILD-ABUSERS holding the reins of power plotting to sell out to LARGE-SCALE FOREIGN INVESTMENTS IN MINING?

We look to MONTSERRAT and all who are like-minded and morally-fibered as she for the answer to that question.

Those "MAY LAKAS-LOOB" (Tagalog term meaning "possessed of inner strength") Filipino men and women whose salt & pepper hair, reading glasses, paunchy midribs brisk-walking around but stubbornly refusing to use sidewalks while doing mental wallet accounting on their way to buying ginko biloba for short-term memory loss who no longer consider the advance in age a problem but has appreciated this as actually being part of the solution to the country's daily grind.

With visibly greying hair they can literally slap (if necessary) some sense into the lost youth and the corrupt latak (Tagalog for what’s left under your coffee cup after you drink un-strained brewed coffee) who have taken over the country BY DEFAULT with little or no repercussions given their age. These days they even stand to gain a modicum of respect after the scandalous event.

We call on the MONTSERRATs of the WORLD to EXTEND YOUR CHRISTMAS VACATIONS INDEFINITELY to save the bled & still bleeding Motherland.

We don't want your life-savings; WE NEED YOU ON THE HOME-FRONT.

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Some people are born mean. They have it in the blood. They don’t even know they’re being mean! What it really means is your pre-occupation with yourself is complete. You have no room in either in the brain or the heart, ie, no intelligence or emotional quotient, to look out for other people.

It’s a most awful way to live, knowing your next door neighbor couldn’t care whether you lived or died


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Ratatouille

December 15th 2008 02:53
Of course you’ve seen “Rattatouille”. But what if instead of a critic walking into a french bistro and the kitchen getting into a panic with a rat on the loose, the critic orders, eats and fills up a feedback form prescribing an organic remedy to the biggest problem of the restaurant in order to make it perfect at very little expense to the owner?

When we walked in, the scent of pest-ridden wood-rot greeted us and that was enough to drive us back out to the hot afternoon sun


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Roasted Soya Coffee, Herb Tea or Me?

December 15th 2008 02:27
Most of us just want to fly.

Problem is, the airlines don't serve brewed pre-roasted organically grown soya coffee, herbal lemon tea with fresh Philippine kalamansi and muscovado sugar


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Montserrat

December 6th 2008 13:07
Montserrat (entry # 3/ 29.11.08)

“Mountain”; “Monte”; “Ser” “To be”; “Sierra” “Land”... These are what her name suggests -- my Filipina friend from Madrid who cooks Paella with a Passion


[ Click here to read more ]
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My Life in a Teacup

December 6th 2008 03:01
Rattatouille (entry # 2/ 27.11.08)

Of course you’ve seen “Rattatouille”. But what if instead of a critic walking into a french bistro and the kitchen getting into a panic with a rat on the loose, the critic orders, eats and fills up a feedback form prescribing an organic remedy to the biggest problem of the restaurant in order to make it perfect at very little expense to the owner


[ Click here to read more ]
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Some people are born mean. They have it in the blood. They don’t even know they’re being mean! What it really means is your pre-occupation with yourself is complete. You have no room in either in the brain or the heart, ie, no intelligence or emotional quotient, to look out for other people.

[ Click here to read more ]
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The Mind-blowing Oil

December 7th 2006 05:26
Imagine an oil you can process in your own kitchen that contains the properties of mother’s milk and work as a cure all.

It has anti-bacterial and even anti-fungal properties. And if you drink a teaspoon your metabolism speeds up and you get an urge to clean your house, your backyard and look over the fence into your neighbor’s backyard for more ways to use that burst of energy!

[ Click here to read more ]
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