Pictures

Following is the picture of a flower I blogged about some time ago. Took it in front of McDo, that is, my husband did. I also like its red orange version. Maybe, next time, I'll see one.



This flower of the yellow hibiscus, okay, gumamela, was taken in the garden. Years back I had an almost similar shade of the plant but that died after making me happy for several months in that each time I went out, it would be full of yellow blooms. This one isn't too generous, just two or three flowers at a time. But better than zero.





Do you notice anything amiss with this picture? Talk about energy conservation... This was taken in Green Meadows leading to Ortigas Avenue, I think.

A Principled General and His Wife

This will not be long but through this entry, I'd like to share my relief that in the military is at least one man and his wife who are principled. Remember the accident of Joey? One of the boys involved was the son of a general of the Philippine Police. Being virtually the only one among the six who was up and about, he took the responsibility of reporting the matter to the police in either Pangasinan or Tarlac. As expected, he was given a runaround of sorts, one faction saying it wasn't within their jurisdiction, etc. But he persisted and finally accomplished the task without letting on he was the son of the general, an announcement that would undoubtedly have shortened his chore. Why? His father has a standing rule for his children: no name-dropping. So the son is not abusive at all. He is soft-spoken, a normal 18-year old boy.

The wife: she likes to dress up and dresses up well. Very pretty even if petite, the usual life of the party. She enjoys talking about her sons and her travels to various religious destinations-- a shrine here, a shrine there. She's always asked to be ninang of weddings and she never says no. And she is very prayerful. She drives a car by herself, no private or police officer driving her about, thank you. She doesn't want people to talk. Good for her.

The family has my utmost respect.

Eavesdropping and then some

Before i recount what I eavesdropped about, just want to share pictures of our orders in Myron's at the food court of Power Plant. Pity we forgot to take a picture of the pretty caesar's salad where Romaine lettuce leaves were arranged like a fan, each leaf topped with dressing, lots of parmesan cheese and a few slivers of bacon.

Following though are photos of the wagyu beef ribs an the paolo's rib eye steak. The former came with garlic rice, the latter with mashed potato. Sidings were similar: a slice of carrot, a slice of squash, several asparagus stems, zucchini. Both were very good.



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now for the eavesdropping bit. We thought of buying ensaimada from Diamond Hotel's outlet in Power Plant and saw some inviting cakes displayed. So my husband and I ordered Le Royale (sorry I forgot to take a picture) that was basically a dark chocolate mousse with crispy hazelnut crust and almond meringue. It was sinfully delicious. One slice which we shared cost P180 net. we had water to go with it and eavesdropping besides.

The tables at The Cake Club are precariously close to each other so that listening to the conversation in the table next to ours didn't take any effort. And where we sat was beside a youngish couple. The girl was dressed casually, her male companion had a bonnet. The girl spoke in English all the time. Then two of their Tagalog-speaking friends dropped by their table and joined them. The male arrival said, "you look tanned." The female English speaking girl said, "I just vacationed in Cayman Islands." (isn't it in Cayman Islands where the rich deposit their laundered wealth?) Oh, a rich girl, I thought. Rich and famous? Maybe but let's stop at rich. I'm not sure I've chanced upon her in the society pages. Then her male companion asked the two arrivals, "did you see the polar bears out there?" (I'm attaching a picture of those bears:)

He went on, "We thought they were for sale so we asked how much they cost. they weren't for sale though." Hello, those are huge bears you're talking about. They must cost tens of thousands of pesos. Oh but I'm sure those kids could afford them.








Anyway, richhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh these young people undoubtedly were. Then someone asked about someone else not present at their table and one of them said, "He owns a resort there." We failed to catch where "there" was, wow, but they also knew someone who owned a resort. Luckily for them, I wanted to go home but it was so entertaining to listen to the rich talk.

Moral of the story: Should you be in a public place and you don't want people to hear what you're talking about, speak softly. we didn't have to crane our necks or listen intently to these rich kids. They just spoke loudly enough for us to hear them.

Shorts

I have been rather lazy about blogging. Several times these past days, I'd go to this very box and wonder what I should blog about. Oh yes, I wanted to blog about the basket of fruits Joey's family sent us. Just like Joey ordered, fruits for my son. But I guess, I was too depressed to write about the gift with Joey gone. Except that there was one fruit there that stood out. I thought it was tisa(?) or a yellow fruit whose flesh had the consistency of camote which I tried and didn't like when I was teaching. Except that when the maid sliced the fruit open, the contents looked like spoiled something. They looked grimy and reminded me of caviar. Not that I've seen any caviar in my lifetime, except in pictures, but they looked like caviar. Except that these seemed bigger, plus I know caviar isn't a fruit. Here's a picture of the mysterious fruit, mysterious to me at least. Would appreciate any info as to what it is from anyone. I've been thinking of calling Dizon farms to ask, as the basket said "Dizon Farms" but I've not mustered enough energy to undertake the task. Here's the picture:



Those are apple slices beside it, the tartest I've ever tasted. Maybe they're a different variety. Thanks Joey, just the same. We love you and your family.

Here's a picture of the fruit's contents and the unopened fruit:


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This afternoon, the maid came in with another food present. When I saw it, my first thought was "blueberry cheesecake". Then I looked closely. The round thingies were too small to be blueberries. So I thought, "Caviar" but again it occurred to me, caviar is just too expensive to give away to lesser mortals like us. Then I recalled a childhood fruit in our garden, "blackberries." I texted the giver, a doctor friend whose son is a good friend of my son's, to verify. She called and said "that's caviar pie." I told her that it occurred to me it was caviar but I couldn't believe it until I heard it from her. She said it will be good enough till new year's eve if there will be any left by then. She had prepared the pie herself. Sweet of her, no? Can't wait to taste it. Will I be able to postpone trying it till the new year? She advised me to buy Fita cookies; I did.

Following is a picture of the caviar pie, very artistically arranged on a salad plate with lemon slices on top and rosemary leaves (?) around. I thought they were from the cypress tree but then again, they also looked like rosemary. I'll have to smell them to know for sure. Maybe, tomorrow. The picture:



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To go on, when my doctor friend called to tell me re the caviar pie, she also mentioned that there were several policemen and SWAT teams and vehicles in front of our house. Like they were there to raid something. That alarmed me so I told my husband about it, while at the same time fearful that if he went out, that might create problems. He did go out and saw a SWAT man with a mask who raised his mask as he spoke to my husband. When my husband recalled their conversation, he said the SWAT man was "guapo and young".

Anyway, when he asked the man what was going on, the man said there was a car chase from Commonwealth that ended in front of the house. The pursued were carnappers, my husband was told. They had parked the car and run away but the tricycle drivers nearby refused to let on as to which direction they fled. How Filipino? So uninvolved. The SWAT guy asked if my husband knew who owned the white car, a Honda sedan. My husband said he didn't know but he also mentioned that the red car in front of the white car had been there for weeks. Husband then went back to the house. This was half past five.

Our son was supposed to come home at 630 pm from school where he was in the thick of preparations for his org homecoming tomorrow; but I warned him not to come home just yet lest he be accosted by the police. We told him to stay put and we'd just pick him up to go to the funeral parlor where Hangad would sing for the wake of a friend's grandma. He followed instructions and good that he did because as we were about to go out through the open gate, the police stopped us. Again, the same questions: do you know who owns the white car? etc. I asked, "what happened?" The policeman just smiled. Inis. He could ask questions and get answers, we couldn't. And the police cars were on either side of our gate, they refused to move an inch to make backing out easier. Luckily a barangay tanod guided my husband as he drove out in reverse. I wanted to take pictures but my husband prevailed on me not to. Pity. It was an interesting sight. There were female SOCO taking fingerprints and the white car looked a mess with black smudges that looked like they were made by very dirty hands or carbon paper. At past 8 I texted my cousin who lives in the condo nearby to check if the police were still around. They were. Around 930 she said they weren't. So we headed for home. The white car wasn't there any longer. I'm surprised that it didn't have bullet holes when I saw it earlier. Wow, the police actually practiced restraint. They didn't fire at the car they were chasing.

Will the incident be in the news? I doubt very much as there was no media around despite the fact that the whole thing lasted more than 3 hours. What gives? Will we ever know?

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After we dropped off our son at Loyola Guadalupe, husband and I drove to Power Plant. I think it was the first time we did this Christmas because I was floored by the lights The trees looked aflame with red lights filling most of them. I took some pictures. When I showed them to my son, he said, "Did you do this on purpose?" I said no. It was just that the car was moving. No deliberately artsy-fartsy stuff here, just a moving vehicle from which I took the pictures. Here they are:

Quaint Christmas Presents

(in order of receipt)
1. 3 orchestra tickets to a Jesuit Communications concert featuring Hangad, Joe Mari Chan. etc. From my future wedding goddaughter.
2. 2 orders of Roli's sati babe and one mazapan de leche. From my high school best friend and now my cousin-in-law. These are my favorites and came as a real surprise and treat.
3. 10 pieces of balut - these from the family of my son's friend. Parents are both doctors. So they too must eat balut. And therefore balut is healthy. How's that for convenient logic?
4. dried beef tapa - from a cousin in Bacolod. Before it came via JRS, I was wondering what to have for lunch. Wow, that really deliciously solved my "dilemma."

5. Sapin-sapin - from the family of my son's classmate; mom has become a good friend. I should take its picture though I have taken off a portion of it. there's a yellow strip that is new I think. Every part of sapin sapin seems to taste the same except for what's evidently the suman portion. But somehow, I prefer some colors to others (violet, orange, cream). I don't like the red part too much. A bit tough. Psychological?


6. A box containing six cans of Pringle's. From the sister of my college best friend. I've seen this in the supermarkets but only buy one canister at a time, so this was decidedly a treat.


7. A box of ponkan - these from a couple (parents of son's friend) who are into the distribution of onions, fruits, etc.


Hmmm. Will take pictures of these so I can post them.

Shorts or Bits and Pieces of Nothing and Everything

Last night attended dinner at my best friend's house where I saw the newlyweds. It then dawned on me that I forgot to bring our wedding present for them. DARN. And their house is so far. I vowed to send this by JRS the next day.

Anyway, the bride looked lovely, lovelier than she did on her wedding day. Younger too. what gives? Make-up. She had a lot on on her wedding day. Last night, she didn't look like she had any.

This calls to mind a memory that will long haunt me. My mother had this very good friend with whom she "exchanged" gifts every so often -- no occasion needed. When my mother would go to Iloilo or Manila, we'd always bring something over to her friend. When the friend harvested bangrus from her farm, she'd give us too.

Anyway, one day, we dropped by her house to pick up something. She had no make-up on and was I surprised that she looked so old without any on.

Moral of the two stories: when you're young, use make-up sparingly. When you're older, use make-up sparingly so people won't be surprised when they see you all wrinkled when you don't have any make-up on.

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Haven't been watching TV much. Partly because when Joey died, my routines were discarded, among them being transfixed by my source of peripheral noise--television. yes, I'd still turn on the TV while eating breakfast or lunch, but these days, as soon as I finish my meal, I turn the TV off. Except for Marimar, that is. I watch it every time we are home. Start to finish.

Moreover, I only buy newspapers Thursday to Sunday. So was I surprised to find out today that Ernest Santiago had died after being murdered. Stories of gays being murdered by their lovers or househelp have become de rigeuer. Sadly.

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A wedding

Went to a wedding last week. Groom was Chinese, I think the bride wasn't. Yes, it was the groom's family that invited us. He asked to be tutored and baptized a Catholic months before the wedding. Impressive considering that the priest had offered him the option of having a non-denominational wedding. Tutor was a parishoner of the church.

We knew the officiating priest. In fact it was because of me that he was the one requested to officiate and that the wedding was held in his parish. Weeks back I told him of my fear the last time I attended the groom's sister's wedding that we might not reach the altar in time to be given communion. You see, that time, we sat on the side and to get to the middle aisle for the communion line, we had to go to the back of the church to fall in line and going to the back meant leaving through the side entrance, moving out along the driveway to the front door. Long story, right? And the communion line was soooooooooooo short. So we virtually had to run, sprint or whatever the apt word is. And we almost didn't make it.

Last Sunday, after the lector announced that people could fall in line for communion, no one seemed inclined. This time we were seated on the side like last year but the distance between the bench and the pew was wide enough for us to go through. We had sat in the same place last year but there was a table for the offertory that blocked easy access to the center aisle. This time the table was so positioned that we could get through.

Before we were able to move, I saw our priest friend walk toward the side of the altar, about to approach us. But I motioned to him that we'd just go to the center aisle. So he proceeded there and this time, the line was even shorter. My husband said later that the priest was ready -- he had but a few hosts in the chalice and they weren't consumed.

So again the question cropped up. Why do non-Catholic Chinese want to get married in church? The people invited seem so disinterested about the ceremony and it becomes so devoid of meaning. I want to make a few guesses but it might be insulting to them. And I have a lot of Chinese friends. Still, isn't there a Chinese wedding ceremony that could be as grand but more meaningful to them and their guests?

After the ceremony, we talked about the matter with the parish priest. He made the same observations about the listlessness of the crowd. He said he's almost sure that next time, he'll just perform the wedding rites without a mass if a suddenly Catholic Chinese decides to marry in his church. Wonder if he'll be able to pull through with this.

We missed the reception as husband's foot became painful. At first he thought it was arthritis. But then it occurred to him it might have been a sprain.

Days later, the mother of the groom called to ask why we missed the reception. Had she known why, she said, she'd have arranged to have me picked up.

I'm sure the food then would have been great, a Chinese lauriat. Oh well, till the next Chinese wedding, er reception.

My Son's New Friends

No, Joey hasn't been replaced in my son's heart, but as though to prepare my son for his loss, months back, my son was invited to audition for a church ministry singing group (I'm not sure that's how they should be referred to -- sounds rather awkward the way I put it). He qualified and has been practicing with them twice a week, performed with them even, as far as Tarlac, and I guess, in a sense, bonded with them. This account relates to Joey still.

Monday night, as we drove to Joey's wake in Christ the King, Green Meadows, my son said, "Tomorrow will be the first time he (meaning Joey) hears us(meaning, Hangad)." Knowing they practiced in the church loft, I asked if they sang loud enough to be heard at the wake. He waved my question off impatiently, as it was too literal, I guess. I promptly kept quiet and what he meant dawned on me.

Tuesdays translate to Hangad practice at Christ the King and my husband and I thought they might possibly sing for Joey before practice. I thought, maybe just one song. I suggested this to my son, but again, silence met my suggestion.

Familiar with one of the Hangad members, I texted him the following morning to ask for that one song because I wasn't sure my son would be "brave" enough to do it, even for his friend. The Hangad member I texted relayed my request to the other members who promptly agreed. In the meantime, unknown to me, my son had also texted them. And they agreed to sing, not just one song, but for the entire mass. I cried when I heard that because yet again, my son had chosen friends who have heart and compassion. I asked if I should give a token, they said no.

As they sang at Joey's wake Tuesday night, I was moved to tears by the brand of friendship they showed my son, aware that he had just lost his best friend. Their singing was especially beautiful so that after the mass, people asked who they were.

Later, a grand-aunt of Joey wondered out loud who should sing at the funeral mass for Joey. I suggested my son's high school theater group, but I guess, my son wanted no less than the best for Joey so that when the grand-aunt asked him, he unabashedly asked his co-members in Hangad if they could sing one last time for Joey. They said yes, unequivocally. (picture of Hangad was taken during Joey's funeral mass by Rene Palma)

Considering that the group earns tens of thousands of pesos singing at weddings, I was most touched that they chose to sing for free for a co-member's friend, a co-member who hasn't been with them for even half a year. But I guess, they are that kind of people who prefer to make treasures for themselves in heaven, rather than here on earth. They also apparently put a premium on friendship.

As they left the chapel last Tuesday, they approached the grieving parents and offered their condolences. They also did the same to me, seeing how distraught I was , I guess, and aware of how much my son valued his friend Joey.

A few weeks back, one of the members told me, "welcome to the hangad family." What they did for Joey and my son is more than enough proof that those words of welcome weren't bereft of sincerity. So now I have yet another set of sons and daughters to add to the brood of sons I gained in the past four years in my son's classmates in high school and his org mates, also in high school.

Still, Joey will always be special. He who carried the guitar case of my son while my son was performing for the class, he who chose to sit beside my son in the bus during their innumerable field trips, he who was always remembering my son's birthday and giving him cake with fruits so my son would learn to eat fruits, he who advised my son to lose weight as it would be good for his health. He never called my son a pig, baboy, etc. the way some classmates did. Instead, he encouraged my son to lose weight in a positive way. Joey...

My Son's Best Friend

As I type this, I'm crying. My son lost his best friend early this morning when Joey passed away. Or maybe, even as early as yesterday afternoon when he was declared brain-dead. Joey and four other friends, including the father of one of those friends , drove up to Baguio Thursday afternoon to take advantage of the long weekend. My son would have joined them and in fact, a few weeks back, I bought him a toiletry bag which he said was like Joey's. But I think it was Tuesday last week when my son said he couldn't go up to Baguio with his friends because he had a Math long test at 4:30 p.m., while his friends had scheduled their departure for Baguio at 3 p.m. Originally, they had set it for 12 midnight leading to Friday.

I knew my son felt bad that he couldn't go with his friends. In fact he had begged off from joining the singing group he loves on their trip to Palawan because he wanted to play basketball in Baguio, which his friends were planning to do.

Yesterday, as we left the house to go to mass, I realized I had forgotten my cell phone but I thought it wouldn't be important to have it as my husband and son were with me anyway. we went to the church were my son's high school group was going to sing but there was no parking space left so we drove to Ateneo. We sat in the Monobloc chairs and by some coincidence, the one to my son's left was the most recent Ateneo MVP player, Nonoy Baclao. During the singing of the Our Father, he extended his hand to my son who later whispered, "Ang laki ng kamay niya, kaya pala ang galing mag block." Without my knowing it, but as was his wont, my son texted his best friend Joey about Baclao and Joey answered that text message. My son sent him another text message but this time, Joey didn't reply.

When we reached Shangrila, my husband and son chose some shirts and as my son lined up at the cashier's, he got a text message. It went sometime like, "Please pray. Please pray hard for us, we just had a car accident." My son motioned to his dad to take over while he walked off outside the store to call up the person who texted him. It was another friend who gave my son a few scant details regarding the accident and the bad news that Joey was unconscious.

I felt so stupid about not bringing my phone because my son wanted the number of Joey's parents. I was of no help. Luckily he saw the land line of Joey, called up his house but managed to talk to Joey's sister only as Joey's parents were out. We decided to go home without having lunch but after buying a trowel for my son's Environmental Science class. As we went to the parking lot, we saw the parents of another of their classmates, who ironically were the parents of my son's grade school best friend. We told them the bad news.

Back home we frantically made calls, sent text messages. At one point, the one who texted my son to pray said Joey was gone. We all screamed and cried. Then we settled down. Then we'd think of Joey and cry again. Whenever my son got calls from friends, he'd break down in tears. To distract myself, I went to the grocery but did not succeed in distracting myself. I listlessly picked up items in the list and at one point noticed a man who wasn't buying anything look at me. I told the maid to move me and later overheard the other maid say the man seemed to have been eyeing my bag and cellphone. I had to have it along as I was still receiving and making calls and text messages while in the grocery. I called up my husband to come over lest the man and his cohorts (3 others) accost us outside the grocery. I asked the lady who sold us the ham if she had noticed the man, she said yes. She just smiled and had no plans to help us.

As we plodded along again back home, my son got a message that Joey was still alive, he was merely brain dead. I got in touch with his mom who confirmed it and said he wasn't responding to medication. We started praying for a miracle, but it was not to be.

Goodbye Joey. We have a lot of memories about you which we will remember forever. Thank you for your being a good friend to my son, for being his responsible kuya, for reminding him of his assignments, etc.

(PS I shall not reread nor edit this post as doing so might unleash several more tears. Joey will understand, right Joey? I can almost hear him say or read his text saying, "Yes, tita.")

Check out: http://journal.neilgaiman.com

Then scroll down to "So you know" for real-life romantic stuff... Made me shed a few tears there, I was so touched..

Omakase 3

Tonight was the third time we ate in Omakase in a span of 3 months, not counting the time I ordered sushi take-home. And tonight was special in the sense that using my new camera, we took pictures of the entrees we ordered except for one main entree, the tonkatsu. It looked pale, not golden brown, and therefore uninteresting. Following are the entrees we ordered. Before you start thinking what gluttons we are, take note that we took home a portion of each except for the soup which my husband finished. I don't know the Japanese names of the food we ordered but I'll describe them as best I can.

Oops, what's happening to blogger? It refuses to upload pictures. Anyway, I'll do it tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll describe the food we ordered lest I forget.

The soup: it was called the omakase soup. It contained crab sticks, sea weed and what looked like beaten egg strips cooked in the broth, a clear broth.



Sushis: we ordered 3 kinds, namely, American Dream, the cheesy beef sushi and hold your breath, Rising Sun. American dream I think I described way back: cooked salmon with cream cheese inside vinegared rice fried with batter like tempura. Cheesy beef was breaded. It was beef with cheddar cheese stuffing -- my son's favorite. Now Rising Sun has a mixture of tuna and salmon sashimi and avocado and cucumber.




American Dream


Rising Sun



Dip for the sushis - a mixture of Japanese mayo and Kikkoman

Cheesy Beef Sushi



Sashimi: we ordered salmon. It was nicely arranged in a white porcelain plate shaped like a fan.


Rice: we ordered garlic rice. Yummy.

Main dishes: squid teppanyaki and tonkatsu. The tonkatsu I described earlier, the squid teppanyaki was nice and tender. The taste was okay, like most teppan food. The teppan was served with vegetables - generally togue, cabbage and carrots. Following is a picture of the squid teppan.



Dessert: Fried tempura ice cream. Actually this is vanilla ice creamed cooked in tempura batter. With this in a bowl are slices or cubes of mango (depends on which chef prepares it). Chocolate syrup is poured atop the mound which is, in turn, topped by half a cherry with a stem, if the chef remembers. We ordered two for the three of us, one after the other. The second order didn't have cherry. Did they run out or did the chef forget? We didn't bother to ask as all the servers were so nice, so why antagonize them?

The dessert minus the half-cherry



Add Image still refuses to work. Darn...

A New Camera

Last night, our son showed us the photos in his i-touch. I was amazed: in it were pictures of his graduation and dinner which I thought didn't exist. I asked where he got them and he said they came from his dad's camera. I couldn't be placated. For months now, I've been saddened by the thought that on my son's high school graduation, we didn't even have a family picture with him in his toga, nor of him at the surprise party we gave him. Then these pictures suddenly showed up.

The culprit: my husband's camera. It's digital and my husband hadn't copied the photos for me in my memory stick. They were merely languishing in his. So this morning, as he showed me pictures in his camera, a number a year old, no less, I thought out loud, "when I have money I'll buy a digital camera too."

A few hours later, he said he'd go to Shangrila to get me a wedding anniversary present. In the meantime, I surfed for a cheap digital camera and started thinking when I could afford to get one of the lower end models. But when he came back, he had a Sony digital camera for me, for which he got a pink case. He felt guilty that he hadn't gotten the pink camera instead of the metallic one, but I guess he just couldn't stomach holding a pink camera,even if only occasionally.

Cogito Ergo Sum

In college Philo class, one line that most Ateneans never forget is cogito ergo sum, I think therefore I am. Were that sufficient in the present day world, one wouldn't need an ID, but no, these days I wonder if I do exist in the eyes of government, banks, anywhere where an ID, no, make that two IDs that are government issued are required.

A few posts ago, I wrote of how Citibank Savings refused to allow me to open an account as I couldn't present a government-issued ID. I have an old SSS card, but this was not considered valid. They want the newly issued ATM-card like SSS card. I told my sister this and she excitedly told me a few days later that passports could now be applied for online. One just had to pay P1500 and go to the DFA for 15 minutes for one's thumb (finger?) print (prints). The service provider that allows you to have your birth, marriage and death (of your relatives, haha, not your own) certificate also facilitates the passport service. I was excited. Finally, I'd have a passport not for traveling but for ID purposes. A passport is always a preferred option of banks when they ask for IDs.

So I called the service provider and I was told I needed an SSS card or any government-issued ID. I felt like I was going around in circles, like a dog chasing its tail. So I called the SSS. Guess what? They also asked that I submit two valid IDs like a passport. Duhhhhhhh. Poor disabled me, I thought. But I pressed on and finally the girl said I could bring my birth certificate. I asked, what about marriage certificate? Ok rin, she said. I think she thought that because I earlier mentioned I was disabled that I couldn't possibly have been married.

Will I ever get the two valid IDs -- a passport and an SSS card? While processing for a passport takes two weeks, processing for an SSS card takes a month at least. Banks can issue ATM cards in 20 minutes. Another duhhhhhhh. But I haven't yet answered the question, will I ever get the two valid IDs? One of these days, when I feel patient enough, I just might go to the SSS. Except that there are so many people lining up in the head office. Perhaps, I'll try the Cubao branch where I called yesterday, except that their capturing machine (camera) is broken. Darn. Anyway...

Cogito ergo sum -- Rene Descartes, it's author, would be shocked: these days, it's not enough to think that one is to be considered as existing. Rather, one needs two valid, government-issued IDs to be acknowledged as extant. For now then, it will have to be Edo ergo sum for me, I eat therefore I am... and I have proof, too much in fact...

I have company but for different reasons as the two cartoons below show:

i-studio

We excitedly went to i-studio in Shangrila to check out i-touch because my son said he saw one the night before and was enamored. I asked the male clerk, "Do you have a brochure?" He immediately said, "wala, ma'am, pero eto o", while handing me a flyer comparing the different models of i-pod. I was impressed.

Then I saw the price tag of the i-pod nano and was alarmed. It seemed lower than when I had bought mine. My husband assured me it cost the same, but I was not to be so easily dissuaded.

So I asked the sales clerk whether the price had gone down and he just looked at me. Desperate to have an answer, I went to the lady behind the cash register to ask. She said, "basta ang presyo ng nano na 8 gigs, kasing presyo na ng 4 gigs dati." But I pressed, "magkano siya dati?" And she again told me, "basta pareho ng 4 gigs dati." Kulit ko no? I guess she knew I was still waiting for an answer so she turned and asked another clerk who was equivalently clueless. What a store. As we left, my son said that the previous week, he had asked a question (I cannot now remember what) and all he got was a blank stare. He said Apple would be so aghast that their products are being sold by uninformed clerks. According to him, in the States, stores that sell Apple stuff have Apple experts. Oh well, it's back to Mobile 1 then, except that when I called Mobile 1, sure their unit was cheaper and they could tell me everything about the i-touch but the battery they promised for my husband's treo wasn't yet available. It has been 2 or 3 weeks since the unit was bought. Where is the perfect store? In Utopia?

Darn...

A Cute Experience

I have never seen snow except in the movies, much less touched it so I felt like a child enjoying simulated snow last Sunday at Eastwood. Hangad sang in a certain area in the complex to an appreciative crowd of mostly family and friends, a number of children, possibly relatives, too. And at the end of it all, "snow" fell. Most of the oldies sought shelter, but the children were catching the snow. I'm sure some of it fell on my hair as the son of my good friend who died months ago put his fingers on my hair and asked, "are you all right?" I was so touched. He is so like his dad and mom, very caring. He's studying to be a doctor and I'm sure he'll make a good one. Earlier that night, the parents of a classmate of my son gave me two boxes from Pancake House. He said, "dinner." I guess he noticed that while he and his wife left to eat while waiting for the show to start, we stayed put. We wanted to be comfortable watching the show seated. Haha, fancy me saying that when I perpetually have a seat, but I wanted my husband and sister to be comfy too. My sister went off a while and bought churros which my husband and I shared along with a bottle of water. My son was able to eat the last churros. What a happy evening it was.

Petron in St. Ignatius Village

Across Shell in St. Ignatius Village, a Petron gas station opened some weeks back. In the first week, we saw one of the men waving a flag to attract the motorists' attention, no doubt. we thought the phenomenon would be good for but a week, but tonight, a lady employee was doing the same at 9:30 pm. Poor thing. I told my husband, maybe we should buy gasoline there? Maybe if they have enough sales they won't let their employees wave the flag relentlessly? Wonder why the owners don't just get that pole-like balloon that wiggles, sways, folds, etc. when the wind blows.

Some meters (kilometers?) down the road, in front of the Corinthian Hills clubhouse, a man holds up a sign to tell motorists to stop so a patron of the club house can pass.

What's the world coming to?

Ok, so that's an exaggeration but I pity people who are tasked to do such repetitious chores day in and day out. I hope they find sense in it and actually enjoy it.

A Caveat -- Go National Book Store

Around noon today, my husband was pleased at having been able to find and buy a book bundle costing P500 plus at Fully Booked. The bundle consisted of Wind Up Bird Chronicle which our son had long been wanting to get hold of, and Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass (Lewis Carroll's stories came in one book).

This afternoon, we went to Shangrila (some 15 years back, we were in Shang so frequently that a guard asked if we had a stall there (we don't)--- and our Shang saga cum love affair lives on) and lo and behold, National Book Store carried the same bundle at P405 or more than P100 pesos cheaper.

Inis.... It's just that the titles in National sometimes seem so mundane one doesn't expect high brow books (or so one thinks) in it. Lesson learned.

A doctor friend on the Cheaper Medicine Law

The latest twist in the debates regarding the Cheaper Medicine Law is the provision that
requires physicians to prescribe generic names of drugs only. No brand names! In fact, it
becomes punishable to write the brand name! It is likely that someone will bring the
matter to the supreme court on its constitutionality, as the freedom of choice is curtailed.
Brand names are there for a purpose, the enterprise owning the brand guarantees the
authenticity of the product and are responsible for it. Everyone is for cheaper medicines,
but foisting a proviso to ban brand name prescribing will only serve to delay passage of
the measure. Pitting genuine generics against the branded originals will be enough to
bring prices down, although, sadly, there is no way of knowing which among the generics
is genuine until the public becomes the guinea pig of the market. There is no doubt the
Cheaper Medicine Bill will pass, but without safeguards as to the safety and efficacy of
generics introduced from unverifiable sources from all over the world, the public is put at
risk for unsafe and if not less efficacious drugs. Appealing as cheaper generics can be,
there will always be a segment of the population who will prefer the original even if the
generic version is proven to be equally efficacious and safe. The spirit of the cheaper
medicine bill is that access to cheaper medicines will redound to better compliance and
higher cure rates, less catastrophic illness for the public. This spirit of the bill should not
be lost in the politics of its passage thru the halls of legislature. The proviso banning
brand names undermines the doctor patient relationship as it relegates to the pharmacist
the decision as to which preparation to give the patient. This is deplorable.

I hope to make you all aware of this sinister insertion of a proviso in a piece of legislation
that will surely pass as law soon. We heard Congress will vote on the bill on Monday
afternoon. The Philppine College of Physicians is coming out with position paper to be
published in the major dailies. Please read it and we hope you join us in protesting the
proviso, not the bill per se but this unjust proviso (as well as the neglect of safety and
efficay issues in intorducing untested generics to the public).

Rogie Tangco MD

Twenty-five years

by Dr. Fabian M. Dayrit
(This response was delivered at the University Awards of the Ateneo on 22 November 2007)

On behalf of my 25-year co-celebrants, I would like to thank the Ateneo community for being such a good home. It’s a common theme among almost all of the previous speakers to emphasize that they wouldn’t have stayed so long if the Ateneo wasn’t a place like home. I would like to add that to make a place of work feel like home really includes three aspects: the administration (our employers), the community (the faculty, staff and our students) and a shared purpose (the Mission).

In many ways, being at the Ateneo has provided a complete, balanced lifestyle – opportunities to shape the lives of people, both young and old, opportunities to grow personally, professionally and spiritually, and opportunities to do things that matter. The Ateneo is a special community with many inspiring and caring people. So, my brief response is really addressed to everyone – the administration and the entire community – and also talks about the Mission that the Ateneo strives for.

Whenever I give exams, I often insert quotations from famous scientists which I think are appropriate to the examination topic which I am giving. I rarely get any responses from the examinees because I guess they are too focused on balancing the equations or performing the calculations. But I think that it’s important for would-be scientists to also think about the wider issues which involve science.

One scientist whom I like to quote is Niels Bohr, one of the most important scientists during the first half of the 20th century. The early 20th century was a remarkable era in the history of science which saw the rise of the theories of quantum mechanics, the uncertainty principle, and relativity, among others. Bohr, who proposed one of the early models of atomic structure, was troubled by the rise of so many theories all of which sought to arrive at a better understanding of the nature of matter. He also tried to link these ideas to the question of free will and basic life processes. He expressed his struggle to bring these many disparate theories together saying: "Only wholeness leads to clarity."

In many ways, the start of the 21st century has also brought about so many changes and challenges which we must struggle with, such as environment, health, poverty, etc. All of these involve the complex interplay of science, technology, economics, politics, sociology, religion, culture, ethics, and others.

I think that it is here that the Ateneo must continue to play its key role: to try to find the solutions to the challenges that we face using a holistic approach. When I refer to a “holistic approach”, I mean it on two levels: being holistic in terms of the fields of study and holistic in terms of the unity of academics, practice and Mission. It is the wholeness in the approach that will contribute to the solution.

There is a second quotation from Niels Bohr that I think is most appropriate here:
"They like to do it smartly, but the point is to do it right."

During Bohr’s time, various scientists wanted to try so many tricks – mathematical and experimental – to understand or solve their challenges, and he was wary of such techniques. Today, we too are faced with a similar situation. Some try to look for fancy solutions or shortcuts to solve our old problems, but the point is to do it right.

Twenty-five years is a good time to look back at what one has done, but it is also an opportunity to look forward to things that lie ahead. Obviously we will not be able to finish the great task of doing it right. But it is our dedication to our Mission and our love for the people whom we seek to serve that will hopefully push us to do more. Thus, I would like to close by echoing what Fr. Pedro Arrupe said:
“Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you will do with your evenings, how you will spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love and it will decide everything.”

The decision to dedicate our lives to serving God is what has given wholeness and clarity to our lives and the sense of purpose to do it right.

A Beautiful Quote

I read a speech delivered by Dr. Fabian Dayrit which I hope to reprint here in my blog. (I wrote him to ask permission a few minutes ago.)In the meantime, following was a quotation from Fr. Arrupe with which he chose to end it:

Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you will do with your evenings, how you will spend your weekends, what you read, who (sic) you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything.

My personal wish after reading the above is this: Would that married couples keep this idea to heart, so with teachers, doctors, government officials, and so with everyone who embarks on anything with noble intentions at the start keep this to heart, till they breathe their last.

Sadly...

Last week, I called my friend in Tahanang Walang Hagdanan to ask that my wheelchair be picked up for fixing. In the course of our conversation, she asked, "ma'am, gusto niyo ng bagong wheelchair?" I thought she was selling me a new one. Then she explained that they had several new wheelchairs from the US which they were giving away for free. All I needed to do, she said, was to have a "case" write-up done by a social worker. She said I might not qualify, however. She also mentioned that their wheelchair sales have dipped because of these donated wheelchairs. why? In the past, congressmen would order wheelchairs from TWH for giving to their constituents, but now, there's no need for them to shell out any amount as the wheelchairs are available for free. Poor TWH...



The latest Coke commercial on TV has a situation where a child goes down the car driven by her father who also goes down to see her to the door. Mom opens the door and the child asks her father to come in. Apparently, the situation is of a broken family because the father mutters, "It's different now," after which the wife assures him it's all right for him to join her family, formerly his in-laws, having a meal together. True, there are a lot of broken families around but does a TV commercial have to dwell on it???? I tried hard to reassure myself that the commercial was foreign-made because the father didn't look too Filipino, but I couldn't delude myself enough. Oh well....

Oops, just watched the Coke commercial again and I got the plot a bit wrong. The dad was about to pick up his young daughter and while he was at the door, he was invited in. Sorryyyyyyyyyyy. But the rest of my account basically holds.

Abortion

Back in the 1980s, I had this maid who was super efficient, intelligent, cheerful. I enjoyed talking with her and she was a joy to be with because she was forever upbeat. A few years into her employ with me, she asked permission to leave to care for her ailing father. I let her go. She came back after her father died but had a boyfriend by then, so before long, she asked to leave once more to get married.

Over the years we have kept in touch, she confides in me as in the past. Her marriage is anything but happy, or so she tells me, because her husband does not turn over his entire salary to her and gives her a meager allowance. They have three daughters.

Last year when my current maid went on vacation, my maid of the 1980s took over for a month, bringing with her her 3 daughters: one stayed with her here in the house, the 2 others with her sister who lives nearby. Sometimes, two would stay here which was all right with me because she disciplines her children enough for them not to be a bother.

Last week, when I asked her sister to accompany me when I hired the wheelmobile, her sister told me that my maid of the 1980s was pregnant-- her fourth. She thought of getting an abortion because she didn't want to be pregnant. She is the type who isn't scared of anyone, so I'm sure she constantly nags her husband because he is her exact opposite. Over the years she has tried to help make both ends meet by selling fish she gets from the fishermen along the shore. She also has clients betting for a certain numbers game, just so her children will have an occasional treat in a fast food chain.Luckily for her, her sister here in Manila who's married to a more responsible man gives her hand me downs and the occasional loan when the need arises. Yesterday she asked to borrow money which she said her sister would pay end-month.

Given her predicament, is abortion a real option? What is stopping her is not her fear of God's wrath but fear for her life. How do I feel about this?

Once the fetus is right there in a mother's womb, I am not for killing this evolving human being. What about birth control?

A few weeks ago, our parish priest read a letter from the Bishop of Cubao to gather support against the bill promoting birth control via artificial means in the city. Coincidentally enough, in my computer then was a case study I was in the process of editing, on the same topic, but this from the point of view of government, USAID (which is providing the logistics), and economics. The case study heavily presented the case of how population exacerbates poverty and this is something not even the Church can deny. Neither can we as we too see street children begging, being used by syndicates for whatever purpose it suits them. We also see victims of pedophiles who are at it with the knowledge of their parents. Only recently a girl supposedly committed suicide because she couldn't handle the problems of poverty, but this girl was later discovered to have possibly been raped by her father, hence the suicide.

If God were here with us now, would he really be against birth control via artificial means? The better-off sister of my 1980s maid is on pills, does that make her a sinner? Methinks, no.

I'm almost sure a number of people will condemn me for my stance re artificial methods of birth control, but isn't that a kinder option for everyone? I'm actually confused.

Shall We Dance

Last Sunday, at 9 pm, I watched Shall We Dance on Channel 5 for the fourth Sunday in a row. The first time, it was to see Mikee Lee dance, the second to see Mikee Lee dance, the third, for lack of anything better to do, the fourth for the same reason as the third.

I was amused. In the last two weeks, Nina got the nod of the judges, particularly Regine Tolentino and Edna Ledesma. Sure, Nina was the best among the dancers, but even when they gave comments on her style, one thing stood out: they mentioned how she injected ballroom steps into her dance. Now Edna and Regine are the muses of ballroom dancing in the country. And somehow, Nina's dancing reminded me of their styles. The realization made me recall a few things I "learned in college."

While some upperclassmen advised me then to recite in class as once the teacher knew me I'd be sure to get an A, my sister told me that under my English professor who was her teacher in a different school, I should not inject my own opinions but should just give answers that were exactly as she taught them. The formula worked.

But there was a professor for which I got no tip. I discovered how to get an A in his class by accident. One of his long tests was interesting (History) and suddenly I found myself writing the way he sounded. The rest of the semester was a breeze, and I enjoyed the course immensely.

Students Today

Just let my tutee go back to school. He has an exam in Science tomorrow but he left his book in school! No, he didn't forget to bring it. He just decided he didn't need to. This is a common phenomenon among students these days. They always say that they never use it anyway. That claim makes me wonder then, is it the teacher's fault that they don't? Does the teacher give them "everything" which makes them think they don't need to open their books and read them? I'm flabbergasted.

Yesterday, this tutee asked me if he could use the Internet to look for info to complete his notes. Why not your book, I asked. He said, we don't open it in school. Arrgh. The book they use is imported, a Glencoe-published book which if they lose they have to pay P5000 plus for, yes, that's five thousand pesos. I know that for a fact because the classmate of my son lost his rented book and coughed up that much. Sadly, it was for a book that was hardly read.

Post Script: Day after the Science exam, tutee shyly said the exam was easy. He learned so much from reading their textbook. Duhhhhh... When I told this to my son, he said, "We learn to read our books in college." There seems to be something wrong with the way the school is run in the grade school and high school then!?&$%&^%$@

Should one be embarrassed?

Earlier, I recounted how my classmate and I were wearing the exact same blouse to a luncheon. A friend who read the blog mentioned being in a similar situation in a mall, but that time her kapareho wasn't an acquaintance.

Last night, as I blogged about the incident, I recalled a story that took place more than 30 years ago. I intended to include it but forgot. Anyway, it went this way.

A Chinese classmate, my best friend in college, was asked by her older brother to get a Christmas present for his wife, a dress to be exact. So my friend and I went to Rustan's to get a dress. I recall it was very expensive, costing close to P2000, I think, and to think that was 30 years ago, more or less. The sister-in-law of my friend used it to a concert in Manila Hotel (one of those foreign acts where tickets were so expensive) and at the ladies' room she saw someone wearing the exact same dress.

Should situations like the aforementioned be cause for embarrassment? I really don't know, but it happens.

In fact, there's a TV commercial where the girl who thought she had a pretty dress on walked into a restaurant only to see that her dress was made of the same material as the tablecloth. At first she appeared distressed but eventually decided she would forget it and enjoy herself. That's attitude.

Many years back, I was patronizing Big and Small in Shangrila and bought this blue and white checkered pants (the checks were small) with white flowers containing yellow centers embroidered on them. I was always so happy wearing those pants because they were cool and feminine. Then one day, I saw that the sales clerks in Blue Kitchen, which sold my favorite local deli items, wearing a uniform (I can't now recall if it was the blouse) made of the exact same material. I promptly wrote the owner of Big and Small to complain and she admitted that she had sold the material to the owners of Blue Kitchen. How careless of her. Blue Kitchen is also located in Shang. She apologized, of course and before long, the girls of Blue Kitchen were no longer wearing that uniform.

Probinsiya hospitality

Yesterday, my son and his group went to Tarlac to perform for free. They were quartered in a comfortable inn and were fed several times, he was impressed. He who is very choosy about food has learned to eat whatever is served them, and this time, he ate goat meat. Caldereta, I guess. He wondered, though, why they weren't at all served dessert so that the first time they had the chance, they stopped at Starbucks to get their sugar fix.

Anyway as my son kissed me, he handed me a package wrapped like a Christmas present. I asked, "you bought pasalubong?" He sometimes does. But no, he said, the present came from their hosts. It contained three types of kakanin. All very sweet. One had a chocolatey taste, another tasted like cassava to me (alupe) while the other had coconut. Very chewy native desserts. Very thoughtfully given. I hope the practice and the underlying hospitality of the provincial Filipino are not lost on my son...

An Engagement Party and My Blouse

Just a post back, I wrote of the champagne-colored blouse I bought at Marks and Spencer for the engagement party. Lo and behold, when I got to the party, a classmate who was there ahead of me pointed to her blouse -- it was the exact same one, but some ten sizes smaller. We laughed about the coincidence which might have made us cry if we were teens. And we had parallel stories to tell re their purchase.

When our classmate invited us to the engagement party of her daughter who's marrying a Chinese, she stipulated that black and white get-ups were verboten. Coincidentally, the classmate with the same blouse as I also bought the blouse for the occasion, except that she first went to Greenbelt and had to go to Glorietta because the size available in Greenbelt was all right except for the sleeves (puff with a cuff) that were a tad too tight. Remember, I also had to request for a bigger size which was taken from megamall while I waited in Shangrila because the sleeves of the blouse available in Shang were too tight? And by the way, with her blouse she also wear brown pants, I guess because black was forbidden. Funny... (our host and another classmate liked our blouse and said they'd get the same. funny again.)

Re the lunch. As with most five-star hotel buffets, the buffet in Spiral of Sofitel Hotel (formerly Philippine Plaza) was overwhelming in terms of quantity. My husband was the one who got the food so except for those he put on my plate and his, I have no idea what else were available, though on our way out, I noticed some pretty desserts and chided him a bit for not getting them. He said I might not like them, but they looked so pretty. I'd have wanted to try them at least. Anyway...

The Japanese sushis and sashimis were good, as was the Japanese fried rice. I also liked the hakao and the asado covered with a sweetish crust. I wanted to have more of the latter except that it ran out. There was roast beef and lechon served not with the liver sauce but with hoisin. Yummy. My companions during the lunch were very careful about what they ate and it was a bit tiring listening to them. Why not enjoy the buffet, I thought? One was perpetually asking for warm water to "down" the food. How finicky. Other entrees I saw on their plate were skewered stuff like those in Japanese restaurants. these were fried and yet they got them. So much for the crap on healthy food. oops.

The desserts were what particularly excited me. I especially liked the freshly baked chocolate chip cookies which were warm and chewy. I think I ate 3 pieces of those. They were tiny. The oatmeal cookies were quite a treat as well. The ice cream excited my classmate with the same blouse, so I thought I'd try it too. She had ube and pistachio and was swooning about them. As husband left to get the ice cream one of our companions suggested drizzling it with pistachio nuts. Good suggestion. The pistachio ice cream was nice, but the ube -- I couldn't taste. It could have been anything.

There were lots of fruits but I didn't take any. There was one fruit (they were peeled and cubed, so I am not aware how it looks on the outside) that was white and had black specks that looked like sesame seeds. I can't remember now who asked the waiter what it was, to be told it was "dragon fruit." Husband said it had no taste.

Initially, to save our hosts from having to pay soft drinks for me, I decided to simply have water. But the waiters/waitresses took so long to refill our glasses with tepid water at that, that I was convinced to order Coke which I shared with same-blouse friend.

As most everyone spoke of Rolex watches, menopause, hysterectomies, I silently listened, my mind occasionally wandering off to thoughts other than those being discussed. The desserts were very good.

The Wheelmobile

Tomorrow there is a chance we could not go malling because of a lunch invitation; Sunday, husband has to be in school in the morning for a Fun Run, so chances are he will be too tired to go anywhere in the afternoon.

As I had so many errands I had to accomplish today (pick up my blouse, the Goodsphere which had broken down and been repaired, bond paper for my son, a blouse for the lunch tomorrow), I decided to hire the Wheelmobile. Though I asked that it come at 10:30 as Shangrila opens at 11, Arnel and the Wheelmobile were here by 9 a.m. Arnel texted to say he would just wait outside and was particularly early because he didn't want to be caught in traffic. Much as I wanted to leave right away, it would have been useless so we waited for 1030 before moving.

Our first stop was the Wrap Shop to have a wedding present wrapped. I had bought it in Living Well at the Podium but forgot to have it wrapped. After leaving the package at Wrap Shop, we proceeded to the Food Court to order from House of Minis. This time we got the T-bone steak (P175 only) and it was a good choice. Meat was more tender than the porterhouse we got last week. Also, in lieu of rice, we had bread. Yummy. Before I forget, as I was eating, a burly man clad in a khaki uniform smilingly asked, "would you like me to turn your wheelchair so it will be easier for you to eat?" (I always eat side-view as the tables in restos are generally too low.) He explained how he saw that I was having difficulty slicing what was on my sizzling plate. I answered, "Mababa ang mesa." Then he asked, "Gusto mo ilipat kita?" Wow, how sweet, how thoughtful. I demurred and he asked, "Sigurado ka?" This was a first for me, someone's offering to transfer me to a restaurant seat so I could eat more comfortably. How nice of him, no? Pity I forgot to get his name. I wonder how I can commend him to his bosses.

Bought some Christmas presents, got my blouse from Mico, went to True Value to get the Goodsphere I had repaired. While I got my blouse, I failed to get the Goodsphere as the one in charge wasn't at the store yet. I wasn't particularly bothered because I knew we'd take a while in the mall. We went back to Wrap Shop and while waiting for the bill to be prepared, I saw this lady whose shirt was a bit short, revealing her back between her maong pants and where her shirt stopped. Okay, I was a bit scandalized especially because from the looks of her back, she wasn't young and yet she had a tattoo there. When she turned, I was surprised to see it was Janice de Belen. She wasn't smiling, as usual. I won't say more.

High points of the excursion were the following:

Marks and Spencer, second floor. There was a blouse there, champagne-colored, but the size was not big enough for me. I think the sales clerk's name was Mharlet. She offered to find me one in the other branches, and luckily, the size I needed was available in next-door Megamall. She offered to have someone get in and assured me it would be ready in an hour. She would just text me, she said. Okay, I agreed.

Another highlight was going to Cyma to place take-home orders for husband and son. The waiter was very friendly and gracious though he remarked that it seemed way too early for dinner (it was before 4 p.m.). Ordered chicken satay for the son, fish satay for the husband, and adobo for myself. He suggested we just come back for it and we took his suggestion, in the meantime getting the Goodsphere unit from True Value on the same floor (6th). The sales clerk in TV was apologetic that it took so long for the unit to be repaired, but I assured him it was all right provided that the unit worked. It's humming quietly now and looks so new. I didn't ask if they had replaced it.

After TV, we went back to Rustan's to buy more gifts and pass the time away, while waiting for the Marks and Spencer blouse. While browsing, I received the text message of Mharlet saying the blouse was ready. Alleluia.

Finally when we went home, when I asked Arnel (guy in orange carrying a plastic bag in the picture) how much I would have to pay, he said "Free, pero next time may bayad na." Great. Thanks my dear sister for another enjoyable afternoon at the mall.

(The other picture is the view from where I sat while we were traveling along EDSA. Next time I'll take more pictures)

Serendra on a rainy night

Wednesday night, as soon as my husband could cross the street in the color-coded car to our home (yes, it's just across the street where he works but he has to wait for 7 pm to go home because of the hare-brained color-coding policy), we hied off to Serendra to view the works of his student in Grade 7 several years back, who's now an architect and a cartoonist/painter/artist, JoMike Tejido.

The entrance to the parking area at the basement was barred, as usual, by a FULL sign but we patiently waited for the security guard so my husband could ask if we could go in, pointing to the disabled sticker on the car windshield. The guard grudgingly lifted the sign away so we could go in.

We parked in the disabled slot and proceeded to the elevator. There a notice was hung: Sorry for the inconvenience, but please use the other elevator. This other elevator was in the other side of the world. Okay, that's an exaggeration, but it was quite a distance. thankfully, however, the elevator was spacious and so we rode up to the second floor where the gallery 1of was. Quaint name, no? When I saw that in the text of JoMike to my husband, I thought it was a text short-cut for something.

The gallery is small, maybe two meters wide. It wasn't too deep either. But on its walls hung JoMike's acrylic works on banig. They told a story which was printed and perched on an easel near the paintings. I didn't finish reading the story because I was constantly editing it in my mind and grew tired. Not that the English was bad, it's just I. (I used to add the digits on a plate number when I was in grade school and practicing for a Math contest. OC?)

The gallery curator was very competent. She regaled us with stories about the sale of the paintings. Half of those marked sold were bought by foreigners, she said. Good for JoMike who's a nice boy, er, young man. He has a comic strip in the Inquirer. Mikrosmos or something. He also occasionally (or regularly) appears on TV teaching art stuff. I'm not sure what channel, though. An aside: the curator was very articulate but nice, she had this huge gap in her front teeth but rather than detract from her looks, the gap enhanced them because she wasn't at all conscious about it. Galing.

After viewing the paintings, we went back to the elevator to go down for dinner at FU's, just my husband and I. Now, Serendra has a lot of open spaces. The roofed areas fronting the restaurants have tables so finding shelter in them as one negotiates the place can be a challenge where one is defeated a lot. Worse, crossing to the other side if one is in a wheelchair means having to use the unroofed ramp. So, without an umbrella on hand, we braved the drizzle for dinner at Fu's, where only one table was occupied. Soon after, a man in a wheelchair and his wife entered. Somehow, I think he was my brother-in-law's friend. His face looked familiar.

Anyway, dinner at FU's was okay, but not as exciting as the first time. We ordered the suckling pig, 3 ways. no, it's not like Peking duck done 3 ways where one gets 3 variations of peking duck: as soup, cooked with vegetables, and served with pita and hoisin sauce. Here 3 ways meant a combination of suckling pig and two other dishes, choices being soy chicken, pork asado and seaweeds. we ordered soy chicken and pork asado with the suckling pig, a decision I regretted as we labored through the dish which seemed redundant after the first few bites. On the side we also ordered hakaw (shrimp siomai) and asado siopao, plus the FU special fried rice which the waitress said had roast duck slices (I barely tasted them). The hoisin sauce that came with the combination plate tasted lame; it didn't have the kick of other hoisin sauces I've tried. The asado was all right, the soy chicken looked frail, the skin of the suckling pig looked a tad overcooked. The siomai was okay, I gave my share of the siopao to my husband who was craving for it, but took 2 of the three pieces of siomai.

Before paying our bill, I asked the waiter to compute as on the door I saw the poster of Citibank which had been there months before: a minimum food bill of something entitled diners who paid using Citibank to free dessert. Same dessert as months back, but good, nonetheless. Remember what it was? Three colored balls atop the white ceramic spoon given when one orders soup. One ball was green, another was orange, and yet another was a dark hue-- ube. The green, I think, was pandan rolled in dessicated coconut and stuffed with sweet mango. The orange one was carrot (Vitamin A!), while the dark-hued one was ube. All were rolled in dessicated coconut and stuffed with mango. Served on the side was a small bowl of mango-sago, the mango liquid in consistency, not pureed but juice-like. Floating on it aside from sago were orange peel. Very refreshing if one takes it on a hot summer day as it was cold. Except that I guess I have an acidic tummy so . . .

After dinner, we promptly went back to the car. Believe it or not, we didn't stop by any store, not even A Different Bookstore which we passed.

TOOLS AGAINST MMDA OFFICERS

Following was forwarded to me by my sister. Hope it helps. . . My comments are in italics.


I just reached my limit last weekend, and decided to take action against the abusive MMDA enforcers. I basically called up the MMDA head office and inquired from the Personnel Officer, Antonio Pagulayan, to clarify their policies. Here is what I got.

If any of these abuses seem familiar to you, Mr. Pagulayan has asked that you call either the MMDA hotline (136) or call the METRO BASE at 0920-938-9861 or 0920-938-9875 and ask for an Inspectorate. They will send inspectors to the place where these MMDA officers are extorting, even while you are arguing out of your apprehension.

wow, and how fast can they send anyone? Does this mean we should argue with the MMDA officers until their inspector arrives?

1. MMDA officers are not allowed to group together in order to apprehend. They are not even allowed to stand together in groups of 2 or more. The only time they are allowed to work together is for special operations (probably when they apprehend groups of buses for smoke belching).

I've seen buses belching smoke but have never seen any apprehended. And heavens, MMDA officers are often in twos.

2. Swerving IS NOT a traffic violation. Moving one lane to the left or right is not swerving, no matter where on the road you do it. And it is even less of a violation when you do it with a signal. Swerving is defined as shifting 2 or more lanes very quickly. So you can argue your way out of this, and call the Metro Base for help.


And MMDA encourages swerving by positioning the broken lines which indicate where cars may penetrate the yellow lane -- a no-no safety-wise according to a cousin who enters the yellow lane way before the broken lines and doesn't care if he'll be apprehended. He'd rather be alive, he said. Swerving is dangerous to life and limb, he said, and he's willing to deliver his piece before the judge if need be. So far he hasn't been apprehended.
3.

Sadly, using the yellow lane is a traffic violation and will get you a ticket. However, buses are really not allowed to go out of the yellow lane, so if you see selective apprehension of private cars only, you may complain.

Really, buses aren't allowed to leave the yellow lane? So why aren't they apprehended as they weave through the various lanes in EDSA? Remember how fearful I was as I watched my son drive to Makati? The buses were just about everywhere. Where they apprehended? NO. But we saw MMDA people apprehending a car, we always do. Why are car drivers such hapless and perpetual victims of the MMDA?

4. MMDA has confirmed that your license MAY NOT BE CONFISCATED at a traffic apprehension. The only time they can do so is if you are part of an accident, or it is your third violation and you have not settled your fines yet. They are only allowed to give you a ticket, which you can contest. He recommends actually receiving the ticket in some instances, so that you can report the officer who did it.


Also, you are free to ask any of these officers for their "mission order", which is written by their supervisor. If they apprehend you for a violation that is not in their mission order for the day, you can report them and they will receive disciplinary action.

So go out and enjoy! :)

My Only Love, GMA's latest sine novela

I caught the first day of the series and was impressed. For once it had details not normally found in Filipino works for TV. The young girl was actually part of a ballet recital, the young man competed in motocross. Director of the series is Louie Ignacio.

why do I find these details significant? Most telenovelas focus on the relationships of the characters and do not have any supplementary details on them. This propensity makes any TV series flat, unlike Korea novelas which show what people actually do on a normal day. For example, Love in Heaven shows the male lead as a news anchor, while the female lead was formerly a competent make-up artist. Now we have Ysabella showing the lead as a chef, Marimar showing the male lead as owning a company that deals with cars and mug wheels.

I can't wait for the day when Filipino telenovelas will have musical scoring using classical music. Though I like the theme of Marimar, a haunting love song in Filipino.

Various

This morning, I accompanied my son to Citibank Savings where he opened an account. It was an individual account, I couldn't be an and/or co-depositor with him because I have no primary IDs to present, that is, government-issued IDs like GSIS, SSS, Postal ID, Voter's ID, TIN card, etc. So, if and when I win millions in the lotto, expect to find my money under my bed, rather than at Citibank Savings. Silly no?

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Last weekend, my husband and I went to Sheridan in Shangrila for some pillow shams. As we veered to the right side of the store, the balding sales clerk said, "Dito ho," pointing to the left side. He explained himself thus: "Yung sa right pang teenager." Aray. We teased him saying, "wow, ang tanda na pala namin." Taste wise, however, the choices he pointed to for the old weren't at all to my liking. They were mostly browns or large prints. I preferred the checks and bright colors for teens. We ended up buying one set of local shams, 50% cotton, 50% polyester for the cushion on my wheelchair. He said if I have allergies, I need pure cotton pillow shams. But one piece in Sheridan which was on sale cost P527. So I said I'd check prices out in Rustan's. There I found 2 pieces of shams made of pure cotton with 200 thread count selling for P500 plus, and those with 300 thread count selling for P895. They were locally made besides, so I got the stuff from Rustan's. From now on, if the quality of the product is ok, I'll go Filipino made.

**********************

My son wanted to drive to Makati by himself, I won't elaborate why. This was at 9 in the evening after a long day for him. At 8 in the morning, he taught in a public school, after which he had lunch, proceeded to sing with a choir at a wedding at 2:30, played the guitar at a reception, and then to Makati. Initially his plan was to pick up a girl in Makati, drive off with her to a party in Quezon City and bring her back to Makati after the party. I figuratively put my foot down. For one he had a very long day and the Saguisags had just met a vehicular accident. For another, he isn't beyond falling asleep while driving. For yet another, he isn't too experienced a driver yet to drive alone to Makati.

In the end, he agreed not to go to the party but wanted to go to Makati. Fine. He had a male friend with him. Fine too. But we drove behind them all the time, just to be sure. My husband has been stopped twice by MMDA officers in EDSA on the way to Makati for beating the red light/crossing the line for buses before he should have. Didn't want our son to be alone just in case it happened to him. So we trailed him, with his knowledge. What a harrowing experience! The buses in EDSA are such bullies. I was perpetually praying as I saw him deal with them. It was awful. He managed with the help of angels, I'm sure. Going home, he said he'd go ahead. we let him be as he was still with his male friend. We got home ahead of us and when I tracked him, I got the message from Globe, "Cannot be determined." So, of course, I worried. As we waited for the maid to open the gate, I saw a car slow down our street. It was our son. Rather than EDSA, he went through C-5 because he veered to the side of the overpass that compelled him to go C-5. He asked his father which way he should have taken. Lessons learned. He also decided going C-5 was the safer alternative as along C-5 there aren't any bullies, er, buses. One particular bus that was so abrasive was GASAT. For a while I memorized his number, just in case. I have since forgotten what it was.

********************

Yet another bombing, this time in Batasang Pambansa. This time, government was quick to concede it was an IED (improvised explosive device). For a while there I thought they'd say it was a methane-triggered explosion like in Glorietta. If they had said that, wow, that means FIlipinos produce a lot of gas! From eating camote? Corny. Though not too many people believed them re Glorietta, that's for sure.