Bend

I was checking again my vital statistics (weight, body mass index, blood pressure) last week to discover that I gained almost three pounds (145 lbs, 9 oz now compared to 142 lbs, 8 oz last month) and that my BMI is now 21.3 per kg meter squared (from 20.4). My blood pressure on the other hand while it decreased remains high.

I'm surprised about the weight. I'm happy that I gained some but I did not realize that it entails growing a paunch, which is really the last thing I want to have at this point. I would rather DIE than live with this monstrosity growing in my tummy. A beer belly or a bilbil or whatever this thing on my waist is has never, never been a problem to me. I always though that I'd be spared of it for the rest of my life given my metabolic rate.

But alas, with the largely sedentary lifestyle that I've inflicted on my self, coupled with an utter disregard for the carbohydrates I've recently been gorging, and exacerbated by the fact that I'm rotting right before my eyes due to old age and is thus not enjoying the same metabolic rate as when I was two… I'm becoming obese.

So I'm back to dabbling into vegetarianism, which I started last week. About a year ago as well I was into the same thing, which lasted for about four or five months. I managed but since I was undergoing some major changes in my life then I drastically lost weight. Eventually, I decided to go back eating animal carcasses and load on the carbs (although technically vegetarians should eat carbs to begin with, I chose to lessen on that as well). The vain side of me beckoned me back to vegetarianism so I'm back on track (but I do eat fish and eggs) and hopefully lose the paunch in the process.

Also, I'm going back to doing yoga (hopefully regularly). I love doing yoga and it use to be a major component of my exercise regimen (in addition to going to the gym, swimming, and jogging) when I was in Davao. Until October I was doing yoga with Sarah pretty regularly. Just when I was already pretty flexible we stopped for some reason I could not remember now. So last weekend when I went back to the mat for the first time in months I has as stiff as an erect penis. My breathing, a major component of yoga, was just as bad. It's back to square one again and it's still a long way before I'm flexible enough to even reach my toes.

I do need some serious cardio exercise and hopefully I can work it into my schedule pronto.

All this because of that bloody paunch that I am so determined to eliminate in a month.

Photo Credit: Maya Spa

Listen to This

When we were children our yaya often listened to soap operas on the radio. Surigao, back in those days, did not have free TV yet, the signal did not just reach our far-flung city. So radio was the widest and most accessible form of entertainment. While the city did have its own radio stations, entertainment was mainly provided by the radio stations from Cebu that regularly broadcast the soap operas.

We call them drama, for some unknown reason, even if they were comedies. One of the more popular radio shows then was Ramini, Ang Batang Bronse. It was pretty much the precursor to TV's fantaserye that is all the rage these days.

The most popular comedy show however was Goot da Wonderpul (I'm not sure how it's spelled though), which starred the wildly famous Goliath and Esteban (if I remember it right… again!). Goot da Wonderpul was a phenomenon; people of all ages listened to it with such devotion. I have no memories of its plot except for its magical goat that somehow affected everybody's life.

Its schedule was right after lunch. During its timeslot the entire neighborhood was on a standstill with the latest antics of the two main characters pervading the air. The next day, I remember the maids discussing the fate of the two main characters when they would gather at the common deep well while washing clothes. They had such deep concern for Goliath and Esteban like they know them personally.

Two other hit programs were Kini ang Akong Suliran (translated to something as This is My Problem/Dilemma) and Handumanan sa Usa Ka Awit (or Memories from a Song). They were the version of TV's Dear Ate Helen wherein a letter sender's life would be played and a host would dispense advice when the episode culminates.

While perhaps Flor de Luna was popular among the lucky few in urban centers who had TV, the radio programs were the more prevalent diversion for most of the people in the barrios. The shows were well-known in Visayan-speaking communities in the Visayas and Mindanao. I learned from Sarah that even their maids in Davao and Cotabato listened to the radio programs.

I'm always amazed at the power of media over peoples' minds. It is surely potent and efficient in shaping perceptions of a mass of people. In the case of the radio soaps however, I feel that they (or at least those who make them) are acting irresponsibly at most times. All right they provide entertainment, which is not bad at all. But how about quality?

Much of the plot of these soaps hold on to the usual defects of mass culture, namely subjugation of women, feudalism, violence, religion (IMO), fatalism, passivity, etc. Listened closely by a population of largely uneducated people, these programs perpetuate these precepts rather than make an effort to change them. This I notice more on the asymmetries in gender relations. Not to mention that most of these soaps are rehash of previous plots.

Looking at it now, I don't see any difference between the plot of the radio soaps I use to dabble with during my childhood and the current TV teleserye/teledrama (or whatever they're called). They are the same mindless programs that perpetuate all the wrong values and attitudes. Rather than instilling change on people's mind they have put much premium on commercialism. The radio and TV executives know indeed that they get more audience response (hence ratings) if they stick to the formula. God, we do have a long way to go.

Photo Credit: DP Challenge

Role Model: Dita Von Teese

The Queen of Burlesque herself! Love, love, love her!!! She's edgy, irreverent, and has a unique personal style. Learn more about her here.

Photo Credit: (1) Dita's Official Site; (2) Myspace.

Meet the Father of My Kids

SOS

Do you know that I've been revirginized?

It's not devirginized ha. That one I've been through when my parents pushed me to prostitution at a tender age of two. Hahaha.

Revirginization is sort of the opposite of devirginization. It happens when you only have a faint memory of what intimate human contact is. It had been since World War II when you were gang-raped by the Japanese that you last experienced the pleasure of an orgasm. The Commonwealth passed and the Martial Law era had been over and still you have not been (willingly) exploited. Not even during the series of coups in the 80s. We had an economic boom, followed by the Asian economic crisis, and the arrival of the new millennium, and so on… pero wala talaga. Get the picture na?

So the objective of the moment is to get de-revirginized. I need some advice, parang awa nyo na (sabay tulo ng luha sa left eye… isang patak lang).

Let's Overact

Finally I found a copy of Dreamgirls at the Makati Cinema Square last night. But before I say my piece about the film I need to do my bamboo rating (tadah!) for a couple of films I saw last weekend.

First is Flags of Our Fathers by Clint Eastwood. The delicious Ryan Philippe stars in the movie. I was quite anticipating for this film because it generally received good reviews. Again, the reviews may have raised my expectations too high because I was not quite pleased with it. All right the cinematography is flawless, so was the direction. I had a problem with the characters though. I just could not empathize with them save for the character of the Native American. However the film is still commendable for its exploration (and questioning) of the concept of heroism and how history is written to advance certain truths. So this movie deserves three and a half bamboos.

I also watched The Good Shepherd, directed by Robert De Niro. Oh well, I was completely satisfied with this one. Matt Damon, an actor that I never really liked (except perhaps in Bourne Identity and Bourne Supremacy), was surprisingly effective as a CIA man trying to grapple with duty and family. Eventually the two mix and he had to make some hard choices. Angelina Jolie is in the film but she hardly left any mark on me. The script is shrewd and practically every other aspect of the film is (cinematography, music, etc.). It runs for 2 hours and forty something minutes but I hardly noticed. Oh by the way, one of my favorite models, Liya Kebede (sp?), has a cameo! She was thrown out of the plane, poor girl. Right now I'm hoping that this gets nominated in the Oscars (announcement tonight!!!) for whatever category. Five bamboos for you!

Okay, let's talk about Dreamgirls. I don't know where to start really. Well, I liked it, (surprise, surprise) but I'm not crazy over it. It's fun to watch, it's a musical of course so it should be. The costumes, make up, and the music (of course) were delightful. Hmmm, the story, what can I say except that I've seen it before. What really lifts the movie is the amazing, amazing songs, which all the actors giving more than justice to them. Yum!

Most of the attention that the film is getting is on Jennifer Hudson who won a Golden Globe for Supporting Actress and is touted as the Oscar frontrunner for the same category this year. One issue that cropped into my mind while watching the film is how come she's considered for the Supporting Actress category when I think her role is bigger than Beyonce. But well, it's the producer's call. But does she really deserve it? If the category is best overacted role, I think she should win. She's practically berserk in the entire film… or maybe it's what the role is calling from her. It's not just my cup of tea though. Between her and Toni Colette (Little Miss Sunshine), I think the latter deserves to win. I'm giving Dreamgirls four bamboos.

Talking about Oscars, the acting categories seem predictable, with Helen Mirren (The Queen) and Forest Whitaker (The Last King of Scotland) expected to win. While it's pretty sure that the amazing Kate Winslet (Little Children) would be nominated, I surely hope she'd win over Mirren. Okay, I'm torn between the two, so bahala na. For Supporting Actress, Jennifer Hudson is predicted to win, but please no! I haven't seen Notes on a Scandal, but Cate Blanchett should win over ANYBODY. I don't care for the Best Supporting Actor category.

Best Picture… I've seen Babel (most over-rated film of the year), The Queen, Little Children, Little Miss Sunshine, Dreamgirls, Flags of Our Fathers, Pan's Labyrinth, and Children of Men, but I am pushing for The Departed.

Mob Rule

So it's the anniversary of EDSA Dos.

When some historical event takes place, people who lived to somehow "witness" it ask each other this question: "Where were you when (insert event here) happened?" We get this question a lot about the death of Princess Diana, or 9-11, or when Rustom came out (the last is obviously a joke).

I was in my senior year in college when EDSA Dos happened. We were finishing our thesis at that time and it required my thesis mates and I to visit a few local government units in Metro Manila. On one of those research trips, we were on the MRT heading back to the campus when we saw a fairly large crowd gathering at the foot of the EDSA Shrine. Rallies were everywhere at that time and we treated that one no different from the others.

Back at the dorm, I saw on TV that that same crowd at Ortigas had swollen up to a few thousands. At its early stage a lot of people opined that a second EDSA revolution was already brewing, although I had my doubts. I had always been the more moderate student and even if I knew that the impeachment hearing had become a circus of sorts, I was still hoping that they'd restore order in the Senate to come up with a more peaceful resolution to the whole Erap thing.

I couldn't remember how it started that the UP Maradjaw Karadjaw, my provincial org (or how we call an organization whose members are from the same province, in my case Surigao del Norte), decided to join the rally. So I was whisked to EDSA with a number of my orgmates where we found ourselves right at the middle, make that at the front (I don't know how we reached that far), of the throbbing crowd shouting invectives against Erap and his cohorts.

More than anything else, my thoughts were really about the unfortunate chance that there'd be a stampede. I also knew then how my parents would react at the thought that I joined a rally, a thing that they repeatedly discouraged me. But heck, I was already there.

Fear notwithstanding, it was actually fun being in a huge rally. People were wearing chic black, of course because they were the middle class and they know how to choose the most fabulous color. Super! They were holding fancy posters and placards proclaiming… whatever they were proclaiming. On one side were students from Miriam College and from San Beda on another. It was like being in a UAAP game of some sort. So I joined the cheering with raised (and limped) fists. I also listened to speeches of some bastard secretary or chief of police who just turned against Erap.

The next day, it was my chance to join my collegemates (or people from my department). It did not help that most of my friends were in the college student council so I was left with hardly any choice but to join them. We took the MRT to reach Ortigas. Even inside the train we were already primed for the battle ahead. We kept on chanting stuff like "Patalsikin si Erap" or something to that effect. I knew we were supposed to wear black but I chose to wear a red Che Guevarra shirt coz it appeared more revolutionary to me. (And I don't wear that shirt anymore, thank god.)

We stayed the entire day on one of the flyovers that span the highway. I could actually feel it move when the people jumped in unison to some chant that was broadcasted all over the place. We did have a good view of the mob below us. By then, there were people everywhere. The avenue below us was completely covered by people. So were the three levels of flyovers. Banners were hoisted everywhere. There was a regular shower of confetti from some helicopter.

One politician followed another to denounce their support for Erap. So were the leaders of the every major leftist group. Military men who left the ranks had their share of the limelight as well. Priests and nuns were not to be outdone with their series of pray-over. And yeah, I think Nora Aunor was also there. Chants were revised continuously… one would accuse Osmena as bading, another would call Tessie Oreta as pokpok, followed by Miriam being called a Brenda.

We actually slept on the overpass that evening and went back to the campus the next day.

So what was I feeling at that time? Nothing much really. I was hoping that the crowd would dissipate eventually so we can go back to our normal bloody lives.

I was not expecting that much to result from all the circus. Lo and behold, the next day at the dorm, we watched on TV as Erap took a small boat across the Pasig River from Malacanang while a mob of black-clad middle class gathered outside its gates. Back to Ortigas, a diminutive woman who I never saw before was sworn in as president. The crowed cheered, probably believing in some victory over a tyrant. The jubilant mood lasted a few days perhaps until a more sweaty, stinking mob overtook EDSA to show their support for Erap. They were dismissed by everyone else as a bunch of hakot.

Perhaps instead of asking where we were during EDSA Dos, we can ask ourselves where we actually are right now.

Bamboos Anyone?

I'm so disgusted at the rate that I've been reading books right now. While I use to finish at least one book per week, I've been reading way less lately. Freakonomics had been beside my bed for the past three weeks! My MRT book by the way is Waiting by Ha Jin.

Needless to say, most of my time had been spent in front of the TV. Last weekend, I did not do anything else aside from watching endless episodes of Queer as Folk and a few movies. I watched The Illusionist last Friday evening, The Devil Wears Prada (again!!!) and Paradise Now last Saturday, and Good Night, and Good Luck yesterday.

I decided to have some rating scale of my own for the movies I watch to make it easier for me to talk about them. Some people use stars, some give a thumbs up or thumbs down. But in keeping with the theme of my blog, I'd use bamboos… one bamboo rates lowest and five bamboos rate the highest. Genius noh? Duh.

For the list above, I'd skip The Devil Wears Prada. If it's the third time I've seen it needless to say I'm crazy over it (thanks mostly to Mother Meryl).

The Illusionist is well… about an illusionist played by Edward Norton. For some reason it was nominated this year for an Independent Spirit Award for its screenplay, which I hardly noticed. What captivated me more were the costumes, cinematography, and the excellent presence of Edward Norton and Paul Giamatti. So for this, I'd give it three bamboos.

Paradise Now is a Palestinian film that was one of the nominees for Best Foreign Language Film last year (I think). It eventually lost to Tsotsi (South Africa), although for me Paradise Now is a better film. It focuses on two friends in some destitute part of Palestine who were forced to participate in a foiled attempt to become suicide bombers. It's a simple story but is made complicated by the characters' various motivations to sacrifice their life for a cause that is pretty much futile. I like how the film decides not to preach but instead raise more questions about the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. So I will award five bamboos to the brilliant Paradise Now.

Good Night, and Good Luck is a George Clooney film, which earned six Oscar nominations last year, including Best Picture and Best Director for Clooney. I was in fact quite engrossed watching it. It has an impeccable cast and the cinematography was luminous. The characters were flimsy though. Nonetheless, it has a lot of things to say about the relationship of media and politics, a subject that is very relevant to this day. The movie earns four bamboos from me.

The Conversion of Cocksucker

I'm beginning to wonder… is one's past easily disposable?

I was with my uber college friend Meredel last Thursday to attend the birthday of J at Government. Meredel, J, and I have been friends since our university days and they are some of the few people from college that I still manage to keep in touch with. The appointed time for the party was at 9 pm; Meredel and I arrived at past ten. J was late as usual, a total of two hours for his own party for chrissakes!

Anyhoot, we saw E at the entrance of the bar. E is also a college friend although he's really closer with J, hence his presence at the party. The last time I saw him was during our college graduation so I was of course delighted to bump into him.

As far as I could remember, he was a fag. Together with J, they use to haunt Government, Bed and god knows what else. I was flabbergasted however when one of the first things he said last Thursday was how surprised he was with J's choice for a party venue. "It's my first time in this kind of place so I don't know what to do." Ugh.

The fag to moiself: Hold it bitch… hold your comments. Sabay kagat ng tongue, pout, and furtive rolling of the eyes.

In fact, I previously heard that E had a change of heart. He has crossed the other side of the proverbial fence, so to speak. From cock-sucker to cunt-eater. But I did not realize it also involved totally dismissing his past like last season's skinny jeans!

All right, I totally respect his decision to change camps. I'm not skeptical of these things. Man has reached the moon and beyond; and I think there are more impossible things besides changing sexual preferences. But to virtually spit on his former life was beyond me! What exactly was the repulsion for?

On our way out, again I heard E saying that Government was "just weird, it's a big culture shock."

The fag to moiself: Kalmutin kaya kita like right here, right now?

Next Stop

Hmmm… looking for the next travel destination.

Right now, I'm seriously thinking of going to Palawan for the summer. But god knows how expensive that place is. Not to mention all the travel time given that I cant' possibly afford a costly plane ride. Oh well, I think that's going to be shelved for now until I can give enough blow jobs to earn me a good trip to Amanpulo. Small time lang.

Besides, what's in Palawan ba? I was looking it up on some people's blog and I can tell it's mostly beaches and caves. God, coming from Surigao, I have had enough of those bloody beaches and caves. Exactly how many beaches can one see? They all look the same to me. And has anybody heard of the dangers of sun exposure?

I have a trip to Dumaguete on March so lately most my travel energy had been focused on that. I was looking it up the internet as well and found out that there's not much to do there pala. It's all about its historical church, the bloody boulevard, and Siliman University. But really, it's less of a vacation and more of a family meeting.

My brother's finally graduating from college (so proud of him ba!). My parents would be there of course so it's a family meeting of sorts. I can't remember the last time all of us were together. Not even during the past three Christmases. It'd be the first time I'd see my parents and my bro for about a year. This should be exciting. The trip's pretty short one though, only a weekend.

After that Dumaguete trip, I'm thinking of going to the Pahiyas festival in Lucban. I'm really into these festivals (more than boring beaches as you can tell). If not for my poor finances I'd love to visit the Sinulog Festival this year (I have bittersweet memories of the city. I moved and fell in love IN Cebu for some time). Anyhoot, the Pahiyas would be easy as it is a few hour's road trip.

I also want to see Pampanga's heritage sites. I'm not sure what's in Pampanga actually, but I heard it has heritage sites of some sort. I'm also dying to see Taal in Batangas. I heard it's a great place to see old houses in. I can probably manage that as a day trip noh? Hmm… that should be interesting. More research on Lucban, Taal, and Pampanga then.

Not for Edu...

If Edu Manzano were to drop by our apartment today he'd have a heart attack.

Ever since my sister and I bought that TV we have been hoarding DVDs… pirated DVDs of course (who can afford the original ones?). There's a DVD stand near our place and we are also conveniently near Makati Cinema Square (probably second to Quiapo as the epicenter of piracy), which I'm visiting so frequently.

Now that it's Oscar season, I've been focusing entirely on those films that have been receiving a bit of buzz. So what do I think about them?

• Blood Diamond: I watched it last night and I was totally disappointed. That black guy (I can't spell his name) is just hysterical. Does he need to shout all the bloody time? He badly needs some coaching from the queen of restraint… Nora Aunor herself. Movies about Africa are just so clichés and this one was no different.

• The Queen: lovely, just lovely. Helen Mirren is AMAZING. She simply captured the layers of her character saving the viewer from watching a caricature of the queen. The screenplay is a bit thin but I was just enthralled by her performance that I shall let it pass.

• Little Children: OMG, does Kate Winslet ever give a bad performance? And that Patrick Wilson guy, although not really a good actor, can give me a lifetime's worth of wet dreams. Enough said.

• Babel: argh, another movie from the Magnolia school of thought. I know Crash, which crashed in its total pretentiousness, also came from the same league. Babel however maintained a certain level of equanimity but it almost fell flat on its face if not for its haunting music, eye-popping cinematography, and impeccable cast. And yeah, I love every movie that has Cate Blanchett in it, I hardly noticed that Gael Garcia Bernal was there din pala.

• Thank You for Smoking: what a surprise, I actually loved this movie. It's witty, fast-paced, and unpretentious.

• Children of Men: god, this film made me feel so awful. I understood about three quarters of it but missed some of the details so I feel very stupid. I find this film very interesting though. The premise of zero birth rates globally is captivating enough, not to mention the wicked shots in some parts of the film.

• Pan's Labyrinth: oh, nice fable. Dazzling visuals. But it's quite unsettling because it has just too much violence and gore.

• The Departed: OMG, I loved, loved, loved this film. Acting, cinematography, screenplay were all excellent. Totally excellent. I did not expect too much from it so I was completely surprised ha. Winner! Wagi! Daog!
  

To be watched pa na meron na ako… Flags of Our Fathers, The Illusionist, The Good Shepherd, The Pursuit of Happyness.

Dying to see but not in DVD yet… Dreamgirls, Half Nelson, Volver, Letters from Iwo Jima, Notes of a Scandal, Last King of Scotland.

By the way, mother Meryl Streep won for Best Actress in a Comedy at the Golden Globes. That's all.

Blog in Review

I was checking on my old friendster blog for an entry on Barbra Streisand (who is on my player right now). I could not help to check my other previous entries, some of which made me cringe at their atrociousness. I found a few entries that were pretty interesting nonetheless. I pulled out a few sections that I felt like sharing today.

• On being a pornstar... I don’t know how my parents raised me, but I still have this nagging fantasy of becoming a porn star someday. I think porn stars have all the fun – they get fucked like hell and they earn bucks at the same time!

• On depression... I am officially depressed. One of the most striking symptoms of a depressed person is self-destructive behavior, and I guess my rambling above (about smoking, not exercising, not eating, drinking too much) would prove that. I like the idea that I’m depressed actually. Depression has always been fashionable ever since celebrities started checking in at “recovery clinics” for nervous breakdowns and substance abuse. Not that I’m due for some nervous breakdown anytime soon. Nor do I plan to dabble into illegal drugs. (God, definitely not in Davao where the Davao Death Squad would surely kill me first.)

• On eating... Eating has never been my favorite thing to do anyway. I find it an awful waste of time. I only eat when I’m hungry but it’s never something I enjoy the way most people do. For me, shoving food in my mouth is such a chore. It’s like washing the dishes or sweeping the floor.

• On relationships... Listening to quite a number of relationship problems, I’ve long wondered why men choose women as partners. I have enough proof that men and women don’t understand each other. There are just too much opposing forces between them. Emotionally, they hardly see each other eye to eye. Men are always complaining that women are too emotional, while women whine about men’s insensitivity... So I suggest men should start having relationships with men and this goes the same with women. I think it makes more sense that you have a relationship with someone who understands you; who shares your interests; who has the same emotional coding as you. No wonder fags and dykes have the most fun relationships all the time.

• And more on relationships... I am convinced that I am not a relationship person. Or say, I am not up for the "drama" in relationships. I remember what a rollercoaster ride my two previous relationships were. I don't want to go through that kind of hell again. Perhaps, I just couldn't accept that a relationship in most cases is one damn rollercoaster ride. I want everything to be smooth sailing, which is very impossible... I wish I could just be a cold-hearted bitch who could hurt people incessantly and not look back. I also wish that I could be a cold-hearted bitch who would not mind being trampled by others. But then that bitch is not me. So I simply choose to avoid situations wherein I could potentially hurt people or let others hurt me.

• On college... I chose to spend three quarters of college life as a loner. This was one of my longest periods of seclusion. I was very shy; making friends was an effort I virtually shunned. At the dorm where I spent seven semesters I hardly had any friends. I’d dine at the canteen on my own while the rest of my dorm-mates formed cliques. I simply drifted unnoticed at the dorm. Friendship was limited. I could not even remember the names of my roommates if asked now.

• On divas... If one day I’d be a drag queen (why not?) I am going to be a Barbra without doubt. I already have her nose anyway so it should be a seamless transformation. Shet, walang kokontra, ok?

• On work... I have secret: I'm always in a state of panic at work... intentionally that is. I seem to do things more efficiently when I have some adrenaline rush. So I have learned how to psyche my self like the deadline of every task is ten minutes away. When in a state of contrived panic all my energies are focused on what I'm doing. I'm in a trance.

And I found this queer photo of me in Davao. Didn't I work it?

Walk This Way

I had one swell of a weekend.

Last Friday, Kim and I were slated to watch the fireworks at the Mall of Asia (MOA). A monstrous traffic situation greeted me when I came down at the Ayala station of the MRT. I figured I could not make it on time. So I walked to Parksquare where I hopped on a Libertad jeep. Traffic was just as bad when we reached Pasay Avenue, the vehicles were not moving at all. So instead of waiting for anything to move, I chose to walk all the way to the Evangelista corner, which was about a kilometre or so away. From there I took another jeep to reach EDSA, which was totally packed as well. I did not understand the reason for the huge traffic jam until I reached MOA. Apparently the entire Metro Manila was heading towards it. God, I did not realize that all those sweaty people (like me) trooped all the way to this mall by the bay just to see some bloody fireworks!

Needless to say, the mall was overflowing with people; throngs and throngs of them with their squealing children. Ugh. Kim and I sat on the curb and watched the fireworks. We were awed, it brought smiles on our faces, which was good enough considering the humongous effort it required to reach MOA. We left the mall shortly after midnight.

Next day, Kim and I were supposed to watch Zsasza Zaturna (tama ba spelling?) and more fireworks at MOA. I begged off however when I realized that my cough was still buggering me. I stayed home instead and watched several episodes of Queer as Folk as well as Tsotsi and Vera Drake (two amazing, amazing films!!!).

In the evening, I saw the fireworks from our house. Dazzling still.

Last Sunday, I took Kim on her first LRT ride. We took it from the Buendia station to the frenzy of Carriedo. From there we asked our way to the Binondo Church. We were there to join the tour of Carlos Celdran of the Binondo and San Nicolas areas. OMG, I finally met Carlos, whose blog I read everyday. I've been wanting to join one of his tours for the longest time but only had the chance to do so last weekend. He is well renowned for his interesting tours of Intramuros and CCP, as well as for unconventional destinations as Escolta, Avenida, and Quiapo. Binondo and San Nicolas is one of his so-called experimental tours.

More than thirty people joined the tour, more than half of which were foreigners. We gathered at the plaza in front of the Binondo Church where Carlos started his tour with a singing of the national anthem. A throng of street kids joined us in the singing. The next thing we know a group of calesas were waiting for us at the fringes of the plaze. I could not remember the last time I was on a calesa and so Kim and I were more than excited to hop on one. In no time, a phalanx of roughly fifteen calesas was navigating the narrow streets of San Nicolas. People were gawking at us from their windows. We gawked back at their lovely windows.

San Nicolas is a small district that sits near the bank of the Pasig River. Carlos said that it used to be the thriving warehouse section of Manila populated by the newly transplanted Chinese. During Spanish times, it was also known for being an opium haven. Having been spared from the ravages of the second world war (so unlike the rest of the City of Manila that was flattened to the ground), much of the turn of the century houses still stand. They are mostly made of hardwood, bricks, and volcanic ash. Currently, these houses are in various state of decay. Some of the details of the original houses still exist though, particularly the latticework designs of the exterior walls and windows made of capiz shells.

San Nicolas is considered as a no-man's land these days and is not particularly part of any Manila tour sanctioned by the Department of Tourism for obvious reasons. We were told repeatedly not to flash too much jewellery (not that we had any). I was quite relieved to be sitting on a calesa rather than taking a walking tour around the rather shady area (I'm such a judgmental prick).

We were asked however to step off from the calesas and go inside one of the crumbling houses, which was a remarkable three-story affair. Or at least it used to be remarkable but now it looked like it was going to crumble any time. All thirty-plus of us ascended the wide but sagging staircase leading to the second floor. It took some time for me to adjust to the dark interior. Upstairs, the floor was a patchwork of odd pieces of wood, which I feared was going to give up on our weight. The walls were the color of soot. The ceiling was low, which was characteristic of houses at that time according to Carlos. I could imagine however what a grand house it must have been during its heyday.

Today it had been sub-divided into small apartments that house more than a dozen families. Curious children followed us around the area. We stepped into some of the welcoming families' homes to check on the latticework hanging from the ceilings. We went up the third floor, which consisted of more tiny apartments. The ceiling on this floor was higher however because it used to be the house's grand ballroom. The floor was an astounding set of hardwood planks (I forgot which type exactly). Resident families kept a distance from us as we intruded into their homes to check on the architectural details. At some point, I was wondering who was being watched, us or them.

Carlos noted that there were still countless old homes in San Nicolas that had been subdivided into smaller apartments, rented cheaply to families. There is hardly any effort of maintaining these old houses, hence most of them are rapidly corroding. Some of these houses have been dismantled to give way to more warehouses, which are obviously more commercially viable. However, scraps (capiz windows, hardwood doors, balusters, etc.) of these dismantled houses find their way to some affluent abodes in Alabang or Corinthian Gardens as interior details.

We hopped back on our calesas that brought us to the banks of the Pasig River, right across the Intramuros walls. I was happy to see that indeed the squatters had been relocated from the banks of the river and there was hardly any foul smell from it. What replaced the squatter colony was a beautiful promenade that had a great view of the Manila Post Office, the dome and belltower of the Manila cathedral, and sections of the Fort Santiago.

Our next stop was the former central headquarters of the Insular Life building (god, how easily I forgot its actual name). I have no idea what the building's style is, but it's pretty reminiscent of some buildings that you see in movies set in say Paris or the old New York. Carlos remarked that that particular building is endearingly called by production companies as Studio 6, having been used as a set for various commercials (McDonald's King Kong commercial for instance) and music videos (Sarah Geronimo's I Wanna Know What Love Is and Bamboo's Hallelujah). We went inside the building to see the fabulous ironwork on the windows and the amazing tile floors. The place is still rented out as office spaces for a measly P7,000 per month. God, if the surrounding areas were any safer I would love to get my self a loft there if only for it's historical value and its magnificent view of the Pasig River and its environs. Adjacent to the Insular Life was the adorable former HSBC headquarters and right across it was the Citibank's old central office. Essentially, the area used to be the Makati of Manila.

The calesas dropped us off at the Binondo district, specifically the street of Ongpin, where we visited a Chinese temple (I'm not sure if it was Buddhist or Taoist), dropped by a few bakeries that specialized in Chinese pastries, checked out some of the best Chinese restaurants, and a chocolate store. This part of the tour familiarized us about the integration of Chinese culture into Filipino society, thus bringing forth the Tsinoy sub-culture (so Mano Po!).

Carlos was such a riveting guide. I may not agree on some of his statements (I don't think he intended to make us agree with him to begin with), but I could not more than underscore how insightful he was, particularly on such things as urbanization, cultural heritage, history, and cultural movements. He presented these insights with such panache and verve that not a single minute of the tour was boring. Needless to say I'm bloody hooked! I want join his CCP tour next.

On our way back, Kim and I walked all the way from the Binondo Church to Quiapo. I can't help loving Quiapo - it's the real heart of Manila. The Sunday crowd was at its rowdy best, which made the experience more interesting. It's a cacophony of sights, smells, and sounds that seem to heave like a single organic being. We couldn't find an FX back to Makati so we took a jeep that snaked through the smog-filled streets of Manila. We reached Evangelista just in time to catch more fireworks that we saw from my apartment. Fireworks, just a lovely way to end rather magnificent day.

P.S. I took an extended weekend yesterday (Monday) because my cough is not getting any better. I watched more Queer as Folk, and three movies (Being Julia, The Aviator, and Sex, Lies, and Videotape).

On a More Serious Note...

I found a compelling story in the Philippine Star yesterday that forecast the Philippines' population to hit 88.1 million in 2007. This is of course thanks to the population growth rate of the country of 1.95 percent. While we are far from becoming the most populous country in the world - with China capturing over 20 percent of the total figure and 17 percent going to India - we are already at the twelfth slot. (I don't understand however why Wikipedia pegged our population at 90 million in their list of countries by population.) The country's population growth rate (1.8 percent according to Wikipedia) is ranked 80th in the world. This figure is definitely higher than the 1.14 global average.

Meanwhile, checking on the population density of the Philippines shows that ours is at 277 people per square kilometer. The highest among countries is led by city states such as Monaco, Macau, Hong Kong, and Singapore.

I also checked the population density of the major cities in the world and was surprised to see that the City of Manila has one of the highest figures in the world. First however, it should be noted that Manila is still surpassed by cities such as Tokyo, Seoul, and Mexico City as the most populous urban areas. These are the so-called metacities whose population exceed 20 million. The Greater Tokyo Area has a population estimated between 30 and 34 million.

Now going back to population density for any megacity (population of more than 10 million people), Manila has a population density of 41,014 people per square kilometer. This is what Wikipedia has to say about the population density of Manila:

With a population of 1,581,082 and a land area of 38.55 km², it has the highest population density of any major city in the world with 41,014 people/km² (with district 6 being the most dense with 68,266, followed by the first two districts (Tondo) with 64,936 and 64,710, respectively, and district 5 being the least dense with 19,235). A million more transients are added during daytime as students and workers come to the city.

Manila's population density dwarfs that of Paris (20,164 inhabitants per km²), Shanghai (16,364 people/km², with its most dense district of Nanshi's 56,785 density), Buenos Aires (2,179 people/km², with its most dense inner suburb Lanus' 10,444 density), Tokyo (10,087 people/km²), Mexico City (11,700 people/km²), and Istanbul (1,878 people/km², with its most dense district Fatih's 48,173 density).

As of 2000 figures, Metro Manila on the other hand is populated by 10 million people (or over 2 million households). This is a population density of 15,617 per square kilometer. I surmise that its population could reach as high as 12 million nowadays. I'm not sure if Wikipedia has a comparison of population density among the other major metropolitan areas in the world, but that would be interesting to see as well.

I'm always baffled at the huge number of people in Manila (or let's say the entire Metro Manila na lang). It's bloody crowded everywhere. Think of these millions of people competing for basic utilities, social services, and infrastructure. But probably the most apalling problem is the lack of housing. So slums sit side by side with high-rises. Outside the gated communities of the elite are the shantytowns. The wide income gap is immoral, I want to retch.

High population density per se is not totally bad. Some cities like Tokyo, Seoul, and Manhattan in New York manage to keep their cities running smothly for the general welfare despite such a huge number of people concentrated in such small space. Mumbai and Cairo, on the other hand, are way beyond chaotic brought about by lack of careful planning, which is no different from Manila.

Unchecked urbanization definitely has its costs. You can look at the clogged streets of the city and it's pretty obvious that the infrastructure is deficient. This is worsened by minimal (and relatively inefficient) mass transport system. The air is heavy with smog all the time. I'm always saddened by the sight of the dead Pasig River, which has become Metro Manila's massive septic tank. Added to the environmental costs are issues on high crime rate, joblessness, overcrowded classrooms, and maybe a thousand other mind-boggling constraints.

At certain times, when I'm stuck in traffic or I'm choking to the fumes of the vehicles, I wonder what exactly the LGUs in the metro are doing to better manage urbanization. Marikina (although I've been there only once when I was in college) seems to be doing great. But it's a tiny city that is more of the exception than the rule. The rest of the Metro is stuck in the quagmire of urban sprawl, bordering on the chaotic.

When I was in college I made a paper in Sociology 101 about rural-urban migration, particularly in Payatas in Quezon City. Migration is one of the major causes of the swelling of urban population. Among one of the major motivation for the migrants is definitely economic. I asked them if they still have plans of going back home to the province and was told that they'd rather stay in Manila. They live in the squalor of the slums all right but at least they have something to eat while they would probably die of hunger in the province. Checking the rural-urban economic disparity can be an effective way of addressing the problems of cities. So instead of directly investing in solving the problems of cities, the government and the private sector may want to look at investing in the rural areas to slow down the influx of migrants toward clogged Metro Manila.

On the one hand, LGUs need to be more active in working together to address the Metro's seeming endless woes. My college thesis was on the participation of Metro Manila LGUs in the rehabilitation of the Pasig River. That particular rehabilitation initiative is one good measure of the level of cooperation of the member cities of Metro Manila becuase the river is a resource that they share (at least for most Metro Manila cities). One of the harsh realities of the effort, however, is that there seems to be fragmented actions of LGUs in reviving the river. The Pasig River Rehabilitation Commission is concerned with the entire undertaking but is having a hard time getting the cooperation of the LGUs. Mainly the Commission is concerned with relocating the informal settlers (a euphemism for squatters) along the river's banks but the LGUs are pretty apprehensive about touching the squatters due to their voting powers.

Removing the squatters however is but only a part of a bigger problem. For one, the sewerage system of Metro Manila has to be totally overhauled to keep urban waste away from the river. Only about 12 percent of the sewage in Metro Manila goes through the proper sewerage system. Think where the rest of the 88 percent goes. Domestic waste (composed of untreated waste water) is the main pollutant of the river, in contrast to the wide belief that it is industrial waste that kill it. Moreover, huge sunken boats have accumulated at the bottom of the river. All of them need to be pulled out. The river can also be a good alternative for transportation but some of its parts have to be dredged to keep the water flowing, much less allow boats to ply it. One of the people we talked to at the Pasig Rehabilitation Commission said that it would take the concerted efforts of generations of Metro Manila residents to bring to life the Pasig River, but it's never going to happen in our lifetime.

The problem is indeed massive. In a lot of ways the Pasig River could stand for the current state of Metro Manila. It is easy to say that there is no hope for the city. Perhaps that is exactly the kind of attitude that people have been saying all along that's why the city continues to decay right before our eyes.

Come Closer

My sister bought a copy of Before Sunset that we watched two nights ago. It's already the third time that I've seen the movie, twice in the theater. I know it sounds mushy but it's one of my most favorite movies. It's like watching Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind and Casablanca (two other mega favorite romantic movies) with which I can totally empathize. With such a limited experience at romantic relationships, I can still somehow relate to these films' take on falling passionately in love, losing it, and trying to restore the romance.

Lately I've been thinking more often about when my love life would pick up again. I try to suppress these thoughts but somehow they always manage to creep into my mind. It's pretty frustrating.

Sometimes I wish I could just get over it and have more strength to keep away from these stupid thoughts. But alas, I'd be forever haunted by my (supposed) need to have someone to share my moments with in the most nurturing way.

I know I have this huge (and largely untapped) propensity to love. I wish I can dismiss it as a bout of emotional dependence, of the need to have someone to cling on to. At some point I have to accept that these are normal inclinations that I shouldn't deny my self of.

On the other hand, I'm not sure if I badly want a relationship. The worst reason to go looking for a boyfriend is that one is lonely or feels incomplete. I don't want to fall in that trap and make an ensuing bigger mess. But then, how would I know that I have the right reasons? How would I know that I'm ready?

Oh well. Maybe I'm over-thinking again. Maybe my fears are overruling me. Maybe I've not been honest to my self hence I can't get a firm stand on this dilemma. Or simply maybe love has its composite uncertainties that only the brave can dare face. Am I up for it?

Currently listening to Josh Groban's Closer. So gay.

With a Bang!

I don't know how else to celebrate the new year except through good old camwhoring. I was with a bunch of obese people led by my bitchofa sister, Joy of Davao, and Gigi and Johnson Ray from Surigao.

Lingaw. We went to Greenbelt to drink a bit and watched the fireworks behind the buildings. After all the fireworks died down, we went to this bar in Pasay Road, followed by a trip to Malate.

In the Year of the Baboy...

I was planning to write a major assessment of my life in 2006. But I balked at the last minute for sounding so redundant. I've discussed several times about my tribulations the past year, particularly moving to Manila… yada yada yada… blah blah blah. It can get tiresome in fact.

So I'm choosing to be more forward-looking instead and think about my fundamentals for 2007. Some people call it resolutions. However, I'd rather call it my perspectives. I don't go after targets, I choose to assume attitudes and take it from there.

I haven't seriously thought about these until now, nonetheless here are the perspectives that'd guide me through the year of the baboy.

• De-center. Think more about other people.
• Share. Give. Bridge. Reach out.
• Be thankful. Complaining gets me nowhere.
• Appreciate rather than criticize.
• Be curios so I'd discover more.
• Honesty has always been the best policy.
• Reflect. Improve self-awareness. Listen more to my heart.
  
• Balance: planning vs. taking risks.
• There is no ther way other than self-improvement.

Let's see where this goes.

Faust

I'm beginning to wonder… How strong are my principles?

I've written repeatedly of my abhorrence of television, and the Philippine media not having behaved at its best in the past years. So I was condemning it in some blog entries. For quite some time my sister and I decided not to buy a TV to make a statement against that.

Not until about two weeks ago.

We were walking around the Evangelista thrift shops once again and we saw a used TV and a DVD player. My mouth watered at the thought of all the movies I could watch, especially now that it's Oscar season. God, I'm such a cunt. I can easily sell my principles for a few good movies.

So the TV and the DVD player found their way into our apartment. So far, I've amassed quite a number of DVDs after a trip to lovely Quiapo. I've seen Little Children, Babel, Monsoon Wedding, The Wind that Shakes the Barley, Shortbus, Another (Stupid) Gay Movie, and Little Miss Sunshine. All films were good (more or less) but not necessarily current. I'm looking forward see more Oscar shoo-ins in the coming days.

I've also seen the first two seasons of Queer As Folk. I know I've not been a good bayot for taking this long to catch up on this pivotal show. So now I'm making up for it so my pink card would not be revoked by The Federacion. I'm staying quite a bit late in the evenings watching one episode after another.

Which ultimately means that I've not been reading as much as before. Currently, I have three unfinished books that have taken a back seat since the bloody TV came into the picture.

At least however I'm not selling my entire soul to the devil (yet). I refuse to attach an antenna to the TV so we'd be spared of the godforsaken shows that spill out from the tube. But then I reckon that the Golden Globes and the Oscars and Binibining Pilipinas and Miss Universe are coming in the next few weeks. Add to that the new season of The Amazing Race and Survivor.

Now that's worth considering. Hmmm…

On My Sister's Birthday... We Turned Back Time

Dear Ate,

Happy Birthday yot.

You're someone I always look up to, especially your maturity. I admire the commitment you've made to our family and I continue to draw strength from that. I know mommy and daddy are proud of you.

I'm very happy that you've found bliss in your life right now. Don and you are blessings to each other. You are lucky to have him and it goes the same the other way around. I've never seen two people who are so made for each other. You've got a great life ahead both of you.

I'm also happy that everything is going fine in your life. I know it's only going to get way better. I'm with you in all your dreams. As I always advised you... work it girl, work it like you own it.

Thank you for being more than a sister to me all this time. I'm so looking forward to discovering life with you.

I love you dearly forever.

Campiness on the Loose: Baguio Part 2

After Sagada, I took a six-hour bus ride to Baguio. God, my balls froze during that fucking ride… it was coooooold. But then again, the views were excellent, especially the sun rising from behind fog-capped mountains. Divine! Just Divine!

I arrived in Baguio before lunch. Since I had already taken a tour of the city in June I decided to head to Baguio's famed ukay-ukay stalls instead. I was blown away by the magnitude of the ukay-ukay industry in the city. However, I'd write about that in the other blog.

After ukay-ukay, I met Daisy and her son Kit at Café by the Ruins. I've heard quite a bit about the restaurant so I asked my way to find it. I had some pinikpikan, which was a disappointment. I was looking for more gore but apparently it only tastes like tinola. Shet.

We met Ging the Lovely (Diasy's niece) after lunch and went directly to shop at Maharlika (that monstrous building right in the middle of the downtown area) where I bought an uber gay scarf and a knitted vest. Next stop was the wet market where I bought Benguet coffee and some Arabica. Oh, did I mention I camwhored in the market?


In the evening, Kit, Ging and I had some tequila that tasted like rubbing alcohol. God, ano yon? So sleep ang bayot sa kahubog. I've never been good with alcohol.

The next day, Daisy, Kit, and I went to Mines View Park, The Mansion, and all the usual tourist destinations. I've been there before so it was nothing refreshing or anything. Tourists dominated these areas anyway. And those little human beings that squeal and cry and shout and throw tantrums were all over the place. Oh, yes, they're called children. Ugh.


The true highlight of my Baguio trip was actually the Philippine Military Academy. I hate the military. They're cock-suckers (which makes them no different from me). So I raised the campiness factor five notches higher being right in the middle of the bastion of machismo. They do need a dose of good old queers like me once in a while, don't they?



Besides, we all love men in uniform. God, I felt like I was in a playground. I should visit the PMA more often noh?


But then... look who we found here! Bitches in uniform. Ewwww! Those cunts don't know what they're in for.

God, the paparazzis were following me all the way to the PMA!!! Buwahahahahaha.

I left for Manila that afternoon to see my sister for her birthday (29 December). I'd write about how my sister and I spent her birthday in an upcoming entry.

On December 30, I took a trip to Tarlac for Daisy's birthday the next day. I had fun with Daisy's kids and pamangkins. And the food... oh, the food. I'm so obese!!!

For more pictures... click here.

Ah, Sagada...

Christmas day started at 4 am for me. I caught the Cable Tours bus to Bontoc, a trip that took roughly two and a half hours. Again, it was winding and narrow roads through the mountains. I saw several people on the bus throwing up in plastic bags. The sight of them puking their guts out was horrendous. The view along the route was spectacular and breathtaking however. I saw more terraces (smaller ones this time) and the fog closely clung to the mountaintops.


There was a dearth of jeepneys plying the Bontoc-Sagada route. It was Christmas day so I did not wonder why. I met this charming Czech family who was in the bus as well and were taking a side trip to Sagada. So we went together to the deserted jeepney station. Where we saw a few people waiting for a jeep as well.Finally a jeepney came and it took an hour for it to get full and leave.

About an hour later we arrived in the charming town of Sadaga nestled in a small valley with enchanting views. Upon registering at the municipal tourism office, I met the Chua family (a mom and three adult kids) and a couple (Miguel and Analyn). They were trying to arrange their itinerary for that day too. We agreed to go spelunking together to save on the cost for the tour guides, which totalled to roughly P800. We first checked in at the St. Joseph hotel where I took a despicable single room with a common bathroom (I don't recommend this hotel for their rooms, but the view is probably the best in the town).

After brunch we converged at the municipal hall where we met our guides Bob and Bryan. The latter is a 16 year old kid who had been a guide since he was 11. To save on the jeepney rental, we took the 40-minute walk to the Sumaguing cave, which is the most popular cave in Sagada. The hike was a good way to see the amazing rock formations that dot the Sagada landscape. In one section of the hike we also saw a sloping valley surrounded by pines. The breeze was definitely cool but not as freezing as Banaue.


We reached Sumaguing (a cave that President Arroyo would visit days after we did) where our guides pulled out their gas lamps. The entrance to the cave was bloody slippery, I was using my hands for support when we went deeper inside. (The lovely Analyn on the other hand made it look like a walk in the park for her.) The cave got colder as we descended, my breath was steaming. We reached a major chamber that was as high as a church's ceiling with bats hovering above us. We were surrounded by these amazing rock formations. Depending on one's imagination, the guide told us some of the formations look like an elephant, one loooks like a pregnant lady with a pussy to boot, another looked like a penis, or a curtain, and a turtle.

We prepared to get wet in the cave's freezing water… and I mean FREEZING, it was not even pleasant. We went deeper into the cave while I shivered beyond what I imagined, to think that I was only wet up to my waist so far. The guide took us to some cracks in the cave so we had to go crawling and ducking from the sharp rocks hanging overhead. One crack led to one smaller chamber to another. We encountered small brooks that ran all over the cave and swam in tiny and shallow pools. This time I totally got wet and unimaginably cold my balls were freezing. Eventually however I got used to it. We went through a chain of caverns, plunged in the water, used ropes to climb cave walls, and did more crawling… things I don't usually do but were exhilarated to experience with such a fun company. The guide finally took us to a chamber that had a very deep pool where we went swimming. The water was of course freezing but I managed.

After spelunking, we walked to the Echo Valley, passing through the Church of St. Mary and the town's lovely cemetery. We reached the valley and saw hanging coffins at the other side of the cliff just as the sun was setting. The guide told us that most of the coffins dates hundreds of years, with the last coffin installed in 2003. With hardly any daylight left, we went scouring the souvenir shops where I saw a few kids in the streets.



After having a shower without hot water (because the hotel could not bring it on time), the same group went out for dinner at Greenhouse. The waiter was doing everything himself - waiting, manning the cashier, cleaning the tables, and cooking the food - so we had to wait for an hour to finally eat. The food was not even nice. Fortunately, the company was great so the conversation pretty much saved us from starvation.

Later in the evening, I met the couple Kare and Biag, dancers from the Ballet Philippines who are friends of my sisters. Biag grew up in Sagada and was there for the holidays. We sat in the bonfire outside the hotel to counter the biting cold. Biag had insightful things to say about the culture of Sagada as well as the unchecked development that the place is being threatened with.

I woke up shivering early the next day because I was stupid enough to keep the windows open the entire evening. From the hotel I could see the fog envelop the whole town. Visibility was pretty low. Our group gathered again at the municipal hall where we met Bryan who would bring us to the small falls that day.

We again hiked a good 20 minutes to the small falls. The vistas were excellent as usual… pine forests, vegetable gardens, rock formations, and distant mountains. Along the way we had to descend a manageable hill until we reached the small falls. Bryan told us that the water was not strong that day because the nearby farms were irrigating their crops. We did not dare swim in what seemed like muddy water, but the sound of the water was refreshing already.


A jeep picked us up from near the small falls to bring us to Kiltepan Point, which was about 30 minutes away from the town proper. Kiltepan is popular for its vantage point of the marvellous mountains surrounding Sagada and the small terraces that rest at their foot. A little over halfway through the rough road going to the viewing area our jeep could not manage the muddy road anymore. So we hiked for a few minutes until we reached a clearing that was eerily wrapped in fog. Needless to say, we did not see anything from the viewpoint, thanks to the fog.

Disappointed, we went back to town and headed to the burial caves. Stacked at the cave's entrance were coffins that date hundred of years. The coffins look way too tiny for a human body. Apparently the corpses were cured like ham, folded into a fetal position, and placed in their coffins. After which they'd be tucked into their final resting place. The coffins have interesting details such as geeko embellishments or a human face adorning them. The caves had been restricted (you can't go inside without a guide) because some tourists have previously conveniently slip out a bone or two. Those mothefuckers!

We headed back to the town where we had brunch at the famous Yoghurt House. Words couldn't describe how the strawberry yoghurt melted in my mouth. Scrumptious!

The Chua family left for Baguio after lunch. (Note: Hey guys, it was such a pleasure knowing you in this trip. It was a joy sharing the experiences with you, you lovely bunch.) I milled around the Church of St. Mary while Miguel and Analyn had a nap.

In the afternoon, Miguel and I went looking for bikes to rent so we can go back to Kiltepan point. However, we did not find such a service (god, it's a business opportunity!). So we decided to walk all the way to Kiltepan, which took us about an hour or so. The walk was well worth it however because without the fog Kiltepan offered a phenomenal view of the mountains. Tucked in the valley was a small village, surrounded with tiny terraces.

Miguel, Analyn, and I had dinner at Masfere's Café where I had chicken sandwich and fries. I convinced the couple that we have desert at the Yoghurt House. This time I tried the granola yoghurt, which I think I liked better than the strawberry kind.

After dinner, it was time to say goodbye to Miguel and Analyn who were hopping to Bontoc the next day while I leave for Baguio the next day as well. (Note: It was amazing to discover Sagada with you guys. It could've been way too boring without you and indeed I'm happy to have met such a lovely couple. Wishing you all the best!)

It was a particularly chilly evening so I sat in the hotel's fireplace for a few minutes before going to sleep. And yeah, I left the window open again.

For more pics, click here.

The Terraces at Last!

I left for Banaue on the evening of 23 December via the 9 hour ride on Autobus. Being the holidays, the bus was practically overloaded, people were sitting on the aisle. I was surprised however at the spacious legrooms of the bus, thus making the ride a lot more comfortable.

I arrived in drizzling and foggy Banaue at around seven in the morning. I could see the steam from my breath and my balls were freezing. I checked in at People's Lodge, which had a great view of a valley and a number of minor rice terraces. I went to the visitor's information center to get some tips on how to get to Batad, the barangay where supposedly the rice terraces are at their best. Luckily I convinced two Germans to take me along with them by sharing the P1,800 rent for the jeep. Of course I could not remember their names (I have a weakness on that), so let's call them Hans and Fredric.

The road to Batad was muddy and totally rough. The jeep was pretty much perching on the sides of the mountains. One wrong serve and we'd end up way below the cliffs. As the fog began to lift, we were treated to an amazing view of the mountains extending towards the horizon. We arrived at the junction where we had to hike for about 30 minutes to reach Batad.

Our first stop was at the Batad viewpoint where a panorama of their famed terraces took my breath away. Shaped like an amphitheater, they form a bowl of terraces that reach towards the sky. Sitting at its cusp was a small farming village. From I could figure, it was not planting season during my visit. The paddies mostly contained mud and a few seedlings.

We took a hike down the sharp slopes where we passed through a series of paddies. I was awed at the thought that I was actually walking on the terraces themselves. Hundreds of years ago people who used only the crudest materials built a magnificent engineering feat that lived to this day.


Walking along the sides of the paddies was quite scary. For one, I did not want to disturb the serenity of the place. Another reason was that I felt that the terraces should not be experiencing unnecessary stress from merely curious tourists like us. So I tried walking as quietly as I could, taking minimal pictures, and stepping on the paddies like it was sacred ground.

Looking at pictures of the terraces, they appear like a set of stairs. But walking around them I discovered that they were humongous. Although varying in size, the width of each terrace (if they are called as such) was about the size of two buses or even more. And god, they were high. We walked along the walls where on one side was a precipice about ten feet high. Falling from them was not really an option. To go up and down from one terrace to another we stepped on protruding stones the size of my palm.

Along the way, we saw a few traditional houses that were composed mostly of roofs stading on stilts. Majority of the houses in Batad however are made of concrete and galvanized roofs. We came across an old woman garbed in traditional wear. I noticed tattoos decorating her arms. Aided with a tall walking stick she stooped close to the ground as she carefully managed across the terraces. She walked barefoot and I noticed how large her feet were. The toes were extraordinarily long and practically clung on the sides of the paddies.

The two Germans and I passed through village at the base of the terraces where people generously greeted us with their smiles. The children were particularly charming. We continued to cross the terraces until we reached the other end of the big "bowl". We started ascending using very steep concrete stairs this time. My companions effortlessly clambered on while I trailed behind. Eventually I stopped in the middle of the stairs because my heart was ready to pop out of my chest and I could hardly breath. From where I stopped, I took a few photos of the place, enjoyed the chilly breeze, and took in all the majestic view before me.

I set off to go back to the rented jeep that waited for us. The hike back was now going up the slope of the surrounding mountains. I experienced cramps on both of legs and I was out of breath. It took me twice the time to reach the outpost because I was resting every few minutes or so. We drove back to Banaue. I said goodbye to Hans and Fredric who caught the bus back to Manila that same afternoon (they were slated to go to Palawan, Pagsanghan, and Bohol within the next few weeks).

Having a couple of hours more before nightfall, I took a tricycle to take me to the viewpoint in Banaue. The fog was rapidly descending when we got there. My tricycle driver was nice enough to take a picture of me with the Banaue rice terraces in the background. I actually prefer the Banue terraces over the ones in Batad. The former were more dramatic because the hills were irregularly shaped. Of course I hated the hiking part of the Batad experience as well. In a few minutes a blanket of fog shrouded the entire terraces.

I went back to the hotel and had a quick shower courtesy of a kettle of hot water that I incorporated into the pail of freezing water. I realized it was already Christmas Eve. I called my parents in Surigao and had dinner at the hotel adjacent to mine. My body was totally sore from all the walking so I slept early. In the middle of the freezing evening I woke up to the singing in the nearby church.

Wanna see more photos? Click here.