In Cebu...

It had been a looong day. I woke up at 4:30 am, BKK time, to get ready for the airport. Total sleep, five hours after a long night of packing.

Lunch time we arrived in Manila. A leigh of sampaguita (jasmine?) flowers welcomed me at the airport and we were whisked to the VIP area. We did not even had to go through customs and immigration.

We moved to NAIA terminal 2... waited in a room just dedicated to the conference participants. We even had catered food. Not bad for a four-hour wait at the airport.

We left Manila early evening. Beautiful sunset! It was way beyond beautiful actually.

Arrived in Cebu. Women in Filipino costumes greeted us. More leighs. Our bags were loaded in a van. We were whisked to the hotel, a police convoy clearing the way for us. Pretty neat!

Meetings in the next three days. Could not be more than boring.

But at least I'd meet my mom, who is arriving from Surigao tomorrow. I cannot wait to see how she's doing. My brother, who works in Cebu, is also meeting us, and some cousins, and BFF Nikki.

Oh, I ate Cebu mangoes tonight. Simply the best!

Heidi's State Visit

Well, well, well... look who we have here?

Yes, dahling, La Heidi is back in BangCock. He is on a short state visit en route to his new life somewhere in Oceania.

Since early this week, La Heidi had been doing his duties as the ambassador of kabaklaan: opening orphanages for baklitas, feeding aged bayots with porridge laced with steroids, gracing premiere nights of the most recent gay porn movies, and speaking at benefit dinners galore.

But for the most part, La Heidi had been frantically running among the ateliers in Soi Nana and Banglamphoo. It was hours and hours of measurements, countless fittings and adjustments, and all the most resplendent fabrics were laid in front of the very discerning eyes of La Heidi. Embroideries were done by the delicate hands of cheap labor from neighboring countries.

Damn, La Heidi was not easily pleased of course, hence, a whole veil had to be redone, translating to three straight days and sleepless nights of re-beading.

This is how you do couture, dahlings.

Kodakan

As I mentioned in a previous post, my family mainly drew our strength in facing the death of my dad from our relatives and friends. They supported us in many ways during such a challenging time. It brought us comfort that we shared our grief with people very close to us. At no point during the funeral and the holidays did we feel alone, both emotionally and physically, which proved to be of value to my mom most of all.

So today I'm sharing the photos taken last December (it had taken me this long to get into the mood of sharing them), in which you'd see some of my cousins, aunts, and friends who were constantly around us.

First, look who I met at the airport on my way home? I was on a stopover in Cebu, and Sarah, my ex-colleague and fag hag extraordinaire, was on her way back to Davao from Cagayan de Oro. I couldn't be more thrilled! Unfortunately we only had like an hour for coffee.

Now in Surigao... I told you that my cousins now have spawns that wreck the house like crazy. Again, it creeps the hell out of me that they look exactly like my cousins when we were younger.

Now look at my baby doll, Isay! She's a darling and a model in the making. She loves it when I put make up on her. I told her mom that at two years old it's the right time for the kid to start dieting.

And then there's Mansing, who has been with the family for more than fifteen years.

And this is Auntie Vikki, my dad's sister who's based in London. We smoke a lot when we're together. Love, love, love her to bits. With her is my cousin Michael (mom's side).

New Year's eve there was a strong thunderstorm that flooded some parts of Surigao. We had no choice but to stay indoors and played mah jong. I learned to play it during the wake and mind you I won quite often. What did I tell you about my Chinese blood? Choz!

Whereas my brother is a big loser in mah jong. Ha!

Well, I also helped in the house a bit. A bit means once I cooked ESPEYSHAL turon for Christmas eve. I forced every visitor to eat the freaking turon and I did not bother to ask for some feedback. On the right side of the photo is Shiela, my cousin (mom's side), cooking some hot-dogs.

My sister celebrated her 22nd birthday (wink wink), which falls on the same day as my parents' wedding anniversary. Two photos down is my sister and her BF of nine years. Don came all the way from Davao (about ten hours from Surigao) to visit my sister on her birthday. Ang haba ng hair ni ate!

And when in Las Islas Filipinas you have to do the karaoke until the place closes and you had to be dragged outside by the security guard.

Of course I also spent some time with my super amigas from high school. Below are Gheleene, Lyn Mei, and Nikki.

And speaking of familiar faces, look which national icon Gheleene daringly molested?

Lastly, I had the opportunity to participate in the annual Crayons for Peace project of UP Maradjaw Karadjaw. UP MK is the student organization of Suriganons in UP. I was one of its founding members ten years ago.

We have also been doing the Crayons for Peace project for a decade now. We mainly distribute coloring books and crayons to kids in Surigao, hoping that their love for different colors would translate to their acceptance of diversity, hence, helping promote peace. The two (colors and peace) are not exactly directly connected, but the coloring books themselves have stories and photos that teach kids the concept of peace.


P.S. The good photos are courtesy of my sister, while the crappy ones are mine. :-)

Weekend Report: "Come let's join us!"

Ladies and gentlemen, the Bellas is honored to welcome the newest Dalagang Filipina of the City of Angels...

Presenting... the Diwata of Chatuchak (Diwata for short), who is the fag hag of the former Czarina of Penang (currently shooting a soap opera in Mexico City). Diwata is now based in BKK and has claimed Chatuchak weekend market as her kingdom, hence, the title.

I first met the Diwata last Saturday afternoon. And guess what, if Karl Lagerfeld has Baptiste Giabiconi and Madonna has Jesus Luz, the Diwata has Boy Toy Atienza as her accessory. Boy Toy Atienza is even an ex-celebrity, mind you. (Boy Toy Atienza is just on holiday in BKK and has nothing to do with La Diwata.)

Anyway, the revelry in Khao San Road screeched to a halt when the Diwata arrived in a gleaming tuktuk. Every backpacker from all corners of the world of course welcomed the Diwata and her escort.

Sunday afternoon, the Bellas went to the Silom Fair, followed by a gangsa (duck) ride in the ponds of Lumphini Park. Well, let me correct my self. We did not get one of those yellow ducks because for some reason the woman managing the boats refused to give us a damn duck, nearly prompting me to throw a fit. It was a relaxing ride on the lake nonetheless, something that the Bellas would probably do more often (and hopefully riding a freaking duck next time).

From the pond, we stretched our nimble bodies on the lawns of the park where later on Lara Stone (who shall be formally introduced in a future post... wink, wink) joined us. There we were serenaded by the Bangkok Symphony Orchestra while bats hovered above us.

Quote du Jour: Aray

"Sanay akong nasasaktan pero di ako sanay manakit..."

-- Moi

Must-Watch: The September Issue and Valentino: The Last Emperor

In the past three months I feel lucky to have watched two of the most remarkable documentaries about fashion in 2009.

Fashion observers held their breaths in anticipation for The September Issue (2009), the documentary following the process of putting together the magazine's biggest (and heaviest) issue of the year.

Many people expected the documentary to reaffirm what they saw in The Devil Wears Prada, the movie and book based supposedly on Ana Wintour. However, this documentary is not just about Ana Wintour. Hogging the limelight instead is the rich, and often clashing, creative forces shaping Vogue magazine.

Set amidst the backdrop of loquacious and flamboyant personalities working in fashion is the hard work involved in producing fashion world's bible. One of the main creative forces of Vogue is Grace Coddington, who constantly pits against Wintour on which photos appear in the magazine's pages.

Their clashes aside, watching the documentary gave me a better appreciation of the visionaries setting fashion trends, and how Wintour and her colleagues at Vogue, along with fashion photographers, designers, models, artists, painstakingly capture the style zeitgeist.

While The September Issue shows the many collaborations involved in fashion, Valentino: The Last Emperor (2008) zooms in exclusively on Valentino Garavani, the legendary designer of Valentino.

Here he is portrayed as the inexhaustible genius that created some of fashion's most unforgettable dresses, as well as the luxuries he surrounds himself with (how about traveling with your pugs in your private jet?).

The documentary also gives due credit to Valentino's dedicated partner, Giancarlo Giametti. Giametti manages the business side of the brand and is Valentino's staunchest defender against the investors to whom the fashion house was sold.

The makers of the documentary successfully lifts the curtain of Valentino and Giametti's rather amusing relationship (constant bickering, tantrums galore, endearing moments of intimacy). It is also a portrait of a steely designer at a time when he's quickly losing control of his brand.

(I read somewhere that Valentino: The Last Emperor is long-listed in the Best Documentary category in this year's Academy Awards.)

Both The September Issue and Valentino: The Last Emperor successfully demystify fashion; that behind the glamor one sees on the runway or fashion magazines are modern artists who tirelessly pursue their interpretation of beauty. Parallel to their artistic pursuits is the increasing pressure for these modern-day arbiters of style to become relevant and marketable as fashion after all is also a business.

Drama Queen Speaking (Redux)

Prologue: Remember Friendster? (Pause for some cringing.) Don't you think those were rather the dark ages of social networking? But damn, most of us had an account. I haven't opened mine in like a millennium and for some reason I was brave enough to pore through my account a few minutes ago.

After discovering how stupid the site still is (it has even managed to replicate the features of Facebook), I found my old Friendster blog, which I started in 2005 (and ran until 2007). The posts were rambling affairs about my trips and the movies I saw. Also, it has a good number of sensitive explorations of my thoughts and emotions, stuff that I hardly do these days in this current blog.

A few minutes ago, I stumbled into this one particular entry (published 11 November 2005 while I was still living in Davao), which I'm reposting below... just because. (I've tweaked the post a bit for the sake of style and clarity.)

***

I hope you still remember Thea and LJ the Maton. As mentioned in an entry a few days back, both of them were trying to outdo each other on who's "love life" is more "dramatic" (read: who has more issues that warrant cry-fests in the bathroom). After a couple of hours of histrionics, and perhaps getting bored of listening to themselves, their eyes darted towards me and they asked if I have some "drama" to share . I replied that my "love life" is boring, primarily because I have a non-existent "love life" in the first place.

I realized how I’ve snugged my self in a comfort zone in the past couple of years or so. After two relationships, I seem to have given up on cultivating intimate connections with anyone the way that most straight people (and a lot of gay ones, I noticed) make sense of their emotional dependence. Okay, that last statement was not for all cases and you can consider yours as the exception (the bayot rolls his eyes).

For the past couple of years, I’ve instead adopted the path of "re-virginhood". This has been one of the longest dry spells in my life, with intermittent encounters happening just within the past month. But for about nine months before that, El Nino ravaged like a merciless plague. I almost forgot what IT felt like (now why am I suddenly prudish?). It’s not only sex (there it goes!) I’m talking about though.

I made the choice to stay single because when it comes to relationships I’m not sure if I can handle any complication in my life right now. Maybe it is indeed the comfort zone I'm currently in, one that I cannot bear leaving. As such, I’m staying away from the emotional snags present in every relationship - things not deserving any of my energy.

On the other hand, I've tried thinking of the bright side of being with someone, especially the bliss of a blossoming relationship. I asked my self why I'm allowing such opportunities to pass me by just because I couldn't be bothered with dealing with normal relationship issues.

Someone very honest told me that maybe I’m not the marrying kind. Ay pa-girl. But yes, I'm convinced I may not be a relationship person. Or to be specific, I'm not up for the "drama" in relationships. I remember what a roller coaster 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 relationships in most cases is one damn roller coaster ride. And damn, how those rides crashed.

Sometimes I wish I could just be a cold-hearted bitch who could hurt one person after another and not look back. I also wish that I could be a cold-hearted bitch who would not mind being trampled on 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.

Is that an appropriate defense mechanism? Maybe it works for now, but in the long-run what could its implications be?

I remember how I admired (and definitely envied) that gay couple I saw last week with Sarah. I’ve also seen so many other gay couples who seem very happy, whose relationships look like it was one ride on endless calm seas. Sometimes I wish I would reach that state with someone as well, even if for sure they have their issues as well.

The pessimist side of me would always jolt me from these stupid wanderings of the mind though. Thus it brings up another question: if the right person comes along, would I always have these walls I have conveniently surrounded my self with, thus losing the possibility of ever loving someone again?

Anyway, I guess I have answer for that. Some people love, some people don’t. Maybe I am just part of the latter.

Now Thea and LJ, if that is not drama, I don’t know how to call it.

***

Epilogue: Damn, such a cynic I was five years ago, chai mai? Does that mean my views have changed? Let's put it this way... I've considerably mellowed down from that absolute ice queen persona above. What did I know, I was only 25 years old and sorely inexperienced. Since then I've gained insights into how most relationships actually work.

For one, I don't think anymore that people in relationships are just trying to cope with their emotional dependence. Relationships are in fact one of the ways of nurturing another person, to think beyond one's vanity and actually commit to care for someone else.

Which brings me to a very insightful statement my friend said over a glass of Mai Tai last night... that loving an individual (particularly in the context of a romantic relationship) is just an initial step for you in loving humanity.

Meanwhile, in the last five years, it dawned on me that to love and to be in a relationship is an act of courage. Somehow you just cross your fingers that it fucking works or at least you're prepared to get hurt if it doesn't. After all, it is said that if it's not painful then it's not love, bitch.

Top List, 2009 Edition

I swear I had this list in my head since September and I planned to come out with my annual "top list" (for lack of a better term) last December. Obviously I did not get to do that coz I was marooned in Surigao.

I contemplated whether I should still come out with the list, after all it's already January and by now most bloggers have already released their respective lists of whatever achuchu and eklavoo.

But then I thought I should still capture my mood for 2009 in some way or another and coming out with a "top list" partly does that.

It will be an abridged list though. Whereas I used to mention my top three of this and that, I'd just go directly to my top choice for each category coz damn I'm the laziest bitch on this bank of the Chao Phraya.

Gosh, enough of the preliminaries...

Top Model: Karlie Kloss

Top Book (non-fiction): The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order (1996)
by Samuel Huntington

Top Book (fiction): Never Let Me Go (2005)
by Kazuo Ishiguro

Top Film (documentary): Burma VJ

Top Film (feature): Revolutionary Road

Top Dance Track: Single Ladies by Beyonce
(sorry Laddy Gaga, but you're a close second anyway)

Top Album: 19 by Adele

Top Trip: Las Islas Filipinas (June 2009)

Top Inspiration: Bangkok (it still is!)

A Ton of Random Bitching

I would've really loved to write a series of posts about my trip to Las Islas Filipinas, but I reckon that would be way too indulgent, especially coz I'd just whine like there's no tomorrow, as expected from me.

So I thought I might as well dump everything in... observations, whining, bitching, and every random, top of the head inanity I can muster. Let's start, shall we?

***

First things first... Of course there's no homecoming trip without me wishing so bad to splash vats and vats of acid at the management and staff of the airports in Las Islas Filipinas, in particular NAIA Terminal 3, which I used this time around. I don't want to describe in full the inconvenience that passengers like me go through every time I use our airports. I just wish hell is big enough for the people managing and running them.

***

My stay in Las Islas was filled with prayers for the dead. We prayed for nine days during my dad's wake and then more prayers EVERYDAY at the cemetery for about three weeks and then more prayers for nine days leading to the 40th day after his death.

There was this woman Vita who leads the prayers in Cebuano AND Latin, the latter in crisp Cebuano accent. I always wondered how much of the Latin prayers she understood but she could without skipping a beat recite by memory the whole prayer.

There's also a string of litanies that recall the gory death of Christ, such as: Hesus ko tungod sa imong kilid nga nabukas sa tungod sa pagbuno sa imong kilid nga gilugwaan sa dugo ug tubig. And then there's also a set of prayers about the morning star (bituon sa kabuntagon), the gate of heaven (pultahan sa langit), the golden house (balay nga bulawan), the mystical rose (rosa mystica), virgin of virgins (birhen sa tanang birhenes), and so on.

All these are very fascinating to me, and once I got into the rhythm of the repetition they do have a calming effect even if I couldn't make sense of the whole ritual.

***

Speaking of rituals, we did manage to visit the grave of my dad everyday, with flowers and candles in tow (or at least as long as the weather permits us to do so). Obviously, I'm not a spiritual person. I believe we're all matter and we all vanish once we die.

But of course for my family and relatives, visiting my dad at the cemetery is a must, especially coz the prayers were held there. My aunts and mom even talk to my dad's grave. I see this as part of the mourning process for them especially coz it's a ritual that we do together at the same time and must have bearing on sharing the grief with your loved ones.

***

I spent about five weeks in Surigao coz I decided to stay over for Christmas and New Year. I was afraid that the holidays would be hard for my mom and some emotional support might be of value to her. Besides, December 29 was also their wedding anniversary.

Despite the death of my dad, we still managed to celebrate Christmas, New Year, and their wedding anniversary and my sister's birthday (both of which fall on the same day). My mom got through these occasions quite well, I'm happy to report.

***

Like in most cases, I assume, the funeral of my dad became a chance for the relatives to gather. His sisters from Europe came home as well as a dozen other relatives from everywhere. While we were deep in grief, it was nonetheless pleasant to meet again many of my cousins, aunts, and uncles from both sides of the family, many of whom I haven't seen in ages.

I also realized I have quite a number of nieces and nephews already (from my cousins). It's strange to be called tito (uncle) by these little creatures who looked like my cousins when we were much younger. Ewww...

***

I also met a few classmates from high school and university who went home to Surigao for the holidays. It's strange that many of them are married already. Two of my classmates from high school even married each other. And while I was in Surigao one of my high school classmates also got married.

***

Surigao was bloody rainy. I used to terribly miss the weather back home but experiencing how wet it actually is I had to reconsider if it's what I want exactly.

Gosh, did I tell you Surigao is rainy?

On my first week in Surigao I bought my self a mountain bike, which I used to go around the city. For a couple of days the sun came out so I biked to the beach where I got a good sun burn on my back. I love it!

But aside from those two days of sun we mostly had rain and more rain. I did not have any choice but to stay at home and grow a tummy (BTW, did I tell you how much I ate while at home? I swear I'm already obese as I type this).

It rained like crazy on New Year's eve . There were no fireworks. Some parts of the city were flooded. It was two days before I left for Bangkok and I was terribly worried that my flight would be canceled.

***

I had some serious issues when I was in Surigao. I was overwhelmed by the lack of privacy and time for my self. The house is always brimming with people (some relatives, house helpers, relatives of the house helpers, etc.). And then the relatives who came to visit had to be attended to as well, although that was quite minimal. But with the stress of the funeral all these pressure mounted.

I wanted to escape from people once in a while, but I did not have that luxury. So I was mostly annoyed at the constant presence of people around me. I don't understand why they have to be so noisy (everyone's talking at the top of their voice) and nosy (many asked when I'm getting married... WHAT DRUGS ARE THEY ON or they're just simply BLIND???).

Also, I still don't understand why every time I'm in Las Islas Filipinas I always feel like the whole place is bloody crowded and noisy.

In this trip for instance, there's a constant din of random, deafening noise, e.g. tricycles, karaoke machines, Angelus broadcast all over the subdivision, kids singing Christmas carols, crying babies, etc. And because it's Christmas the city was crowded with people doing some serious shopping and beggars roaming around the city plaza, which was decked with gaudy Christmas lights and decors (hello, a snowman made of styrofoam in the middle of rainy Surigao!???).

However, my most serious issue is still the lack of some decent private time and space at home. I would not mind such a set up if I'm just visiting for a week but not for five bloody weeks, chai mai?

On my first week in Surigao I was seriously wishing I could go back to Bangkok already. But obviously I have obligations to my mom. Still it does not stop me from looking at the calendar first thing every morning, counting the days before my flight to Bangkok.