Tuesday, August 29, 2006

All The Leaves Are Brown...

...all the leaves are brown

So after a month of being haunted by that incessant beat thumping through the PA system at the MegaMall, Mall Of Asia, and now Suntec City, I finally did myself a favor and YouTube'd the song: talk about cheesy, but yet, strangely fascinating...

Like a car wreck on the Nimitz Freeway.


On a winter's day.


When the sky is grey.

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Sunday, August 27, 2006

Not For The Faint of Heart...

Check this out.

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Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Wǒ Hēn Hǎo. Nī Ne?

Driver: “Hello sir, how are you?”
Passenger: “I’m doing fine, how about yourself?”

It was only after about five minutes of utter silence in the airy cabin of that dark green Audi A6L that I realized this was the only English that the driver could speak. He had on a plain white shirt and simple black slacks when he greeted me and my lovely airport guide (courtesy China World Hotel) in that hot and humid underground parking garage. Upon disembarking from the plane, I was quite surprised actually, to see my name scratched in bold felt tip glory held up by the young female greeter. I thought non-passengers weren’t allowed into the gate area? I guess it’s different out here in PEK. Nevertheless, it was nice to be confronted with a friendly smile and a cute face after the semi-friendly and not entirely attractive flight attendants on the oversea United Airlines flight. (Well, attractive in a small-town cornfield Iowa mid- to late-forties kinda way.) The dark blue business suit fit the young Chinese woman’s small frame well, barely disguising her down-to-business attitude and brisk pace as she hustled me through the airport. Her plans were foiled, however, upon realizing that this unprepared Beijing newbie didn’t have a pen. Nor did he have his customs card filled out. (As I filled out the card, I can just sense her frustration growing). But with a smile, she handed me her pink colored blue ballpoint pen and waited patiently for me on the other side of the customs gate. Her English, although a bit rough, was quite good…it certainly made for a nice welcome to the capital of the PRC.

Walking me across the street to the parking garage introduced me to the pedestrian ways of Beijing: unfaltering, she walked straight into the street, forcing a quickly approaching cab driver to stab at the brakes. (A situation that I became quite adept at tackling on my daily 15-minute walk of madness from the hotel to the office building.) With a (admittedly forced) smile, she introduced me to the driver, handed me papers to sign, and off I went. Farewell indeed.

The Monday afternoon rush hour traffic in Beijing is quite the snarl. The 30-something kilometer ride from the airport to the hotel took about two hours, crawling along highways packed with vehicles jockeying for position. The city wasn’t as I had expected – it was quite the bustling metropolis, with large office buildings popping up everywhere. Frommer’s was right: Go to Beijing now. Construction was rampant, with aging buildings being torn down to make way for new ones, and a skyline that looks no older than a decade. (I wonder what Shanghai looks like?) The changes were obvious preparations for the 2008 Olympics, and I was glad to find out later that several historical sites were protected from the commercial makeover. Although a tour through the city will reveal a multitude of old neighborhoods being taken down (by hand, mind you…I saw a group of men pulling down a 40 foot tree with a rope!)

Amidst all the chaos and constantly changing landscape, one thing stuck out in my mind: the sheer number of people. Everywhere you went, there were crowds; young, old, happy, sad… And to have any hope of being heard amongst the throes of a million voices and the angry din of a million cars, you had to raise your voice, a trait that helps to easily distinguish the Beijing natives from outsiders.

But sitting in the leather-lined back seat of the stretch mid-luxury vehicle from Ingolstadt, imagining how pleasant it would have been if I spoke fluent Mandarin, it’s hard to imagine the world outside my tinted window. Instead, I sit back and start preparing myself for the gluttony of dishes that await in mainland China

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Sunday, August 20, 2006

The Only Way To Fly

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of standing in line at the airline ticket counter and realizing that you lost your passport…

Oh, this trip to Beijing got off to a great start. First, TFC failed to post their programming guide, thus making it (literally) impossible for me to use the DVR to record my brother’s 10 seconds of fame on Wowowee. What was intended to be a five minute “Record This Program Now” operation turned into an hour long distraction the morning before my flight as I battled a gremlin with my eight year old VCR that has suddenly refused to accept any cursor movements from the remote control. Needless to say, mission not accomplished – my brother and parents’ brief spotlight of anonymity in the crowd of the Philippines’ current hit game show went unnoticed, lost to the ether.

And this was just the start…

Next challenge was figuring out how to pack in light of the revised security measures (no liquids, no gels). I really didn’t want to lug around the 26” case (besides, the handle’s broken). So I stuffed some clothes into my duffle (which I checked in), and packed my backpack, I finished in time to make the Super Shuttle service, and got to the airport with plenty of time. Set my bags down to get my papers ready. Walked to the check-in counter, and began my panic attack… “Where the @*#&^$ is my passport?” Retracing my steps, I went back to the other side of the ticket counter (where I set my things down) and inquired on a lost passport. “Yes, we just gave it to security. I’ll be right back”. PHEW.

Oh, it doesn’t end there…

So, I approach the ticket counter with little blue pamphlet of freedom and printed itinerary in hand… “Are you sure you’re on this flight?” (*Bzzzz* – wrong answer, lady). After a few minutes of plastic key-clicking and questions, she redirects me to the ticket counter, saying I need to clarify the situation with them, that I may need to be reticketed. I walked around to the other side of the counter and stood in line for ticketing, (now useless) passport in hand, heart pounding. I can sense my hair thinning and hairline receding by the minute. My heart sank when my mind began to recall faint memories of a travel agent saying something to the effect of “this is not an e-ticket reservation, you will have a paper ticket delivered to you”. A paper ticket which I (obviously) didn’t have. Just for shits and giggles, I called the travel agent and sure enough, my suspicions were confirmed. Paper ticket needed. A document which was overnighted to my office (I was working from home Friday) so missed the delivery. I could just picture that little brown UPS envelope, snickering at me from my lonely cubicle 30 miles away in an air-conditioned cubicle in Sunnyvale.

Decision time. It's 10:30AM, flight leaves at 1:30PM, boarding at 12:40PM. Do I:

  1. Call Shirley, have her take time from work and drive all the way from Oakland to Sunnyvale, and coordinate this with my boss to get the tickets
  2. Ask my boss to drive the ticket all the way to the airport
  3. Hop in a cab, rush home. Drive to work, grab the tickets. Hustle back to the airport and foot the bill for long-term parking.

Right... Option 3.


90 minutes and countless (unnoticed) moving violations later, I’m back at the International Terminal, standing at that intimately familiar check-in counter. But this time, I’m allowed passage through those blue gates…

I hope the rest of this trip goes just as smooth.

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Sunday, August 13, 2006

Cue Roundup

Yesterday completes my tour of Bay Area BBQ... Hanging out in Walnut Creek, I decide to finally visit Bo's BBQ in Lafayette for a nice Saturday afternoon lunch. The restaurant was very "Lafayette-ish" with shaded patio seating on the wooden deck outside overlooking Mt. Diablo Blvd. The menu was pretty simple, we opted for the 3-way combo: pork ribs, links, and beef brisket. The meat came with a plate of sides: white corn (super sweet and super crispy!), greens (very californ-i-a), potato salad, bread, and BBQ sauce. The pork ribs were pretty damned good...juicy, tender but not overcooked, and not overly smoky. (Personally, I prefer a sweeter rub). The links were really good, best of all the BBQ joints so far. The beef brisket was the low point -- dry, crumbly, devoid of flavor. I've had waaaay better elsewhere. BBQ is hard to come by in the city by the bay, so how do I rank 'em?

  1. Uncle Frank's - The meats were extra super smoky, downright delicious. We went a while ago, when they were at the old East Palo Alto location. They've since moved to somewhere in Mountain View. This place is still my favorite so far.
  2. Everett & Jones - It's been so long that I can't remember the details, but I think I liked it. I must go back and refresh my memory. hehe
  3. Bo's
  4. Rib Shack - Haven't been there for a while, but the last time I was there they gave huge portions, and the meat was pretty good
  5. Memphis Minnie's - Go here for the pulled pork with N. Carolina(?) sauce. Everything else is rather forgettable...beef brisket was pretty dry, and the pork ribs were just OK. And being in the city adds an annoyance for parking (but it wasn't too bad on the Saturday afternoon when we went). Almost forgot...the sides were damned good here.
  6. Famous Dave's BBQ - I actually didn't try the Gilroy location (I tried the one in Denver). It was pretty good for chain-style food.
  7. Armadillo Willy's - eh.

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Thursday, August 10, 2006

Melato-what?

Staring at the prospect of yet another week-long recovery awaiting me after next week's China trip, I started reading... I saw this, which had a bunch of pretty simple, non-medicated ways of resetting your clock. I've tried doing some of these, but it didn't help -- especially when some hyper two year old asian kid keeps playing with the sunvisors and kicking me in the back (grrr). So show me the drugs!!! Turns out that there's this magic pill you can take to help cut your jet lag recovery time in half, speeding up your body's circadian clock adjustments.

Hmmm...if one pill works, then 3 should work three times as fast, right?

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Hindi Ko Mg Tulog

It's like 3 in the morning, and I can't sleep. Call it jet lag, or stress over work, or worry knowing that I'm going to have to do this jet lag thing all over again on a trip to China next week. Whatever the case, I can't sleep. So I'll post links to me going snapshot crazy in the Philippines.

I really have to make a conscious decision not to go all buck-wild and shoot "documentary style" on my next trip. Or maybe I should just pick a theme on the trip and stick to it? Or hell, be more freakin' selective in my shots?

Set 1 - The flight there, and the airports... Cathay Pacific is a really nice airline; Ninoy Aquino International Airport is hella ghetto (when will they finally open up the brand spanking new one that's been gathering dust down the street?); in the left of one of the shots, you'll see a big white guy...he cracked me up because he spoke perfect tagalog and was clowning on the immigration line (90 minutes long!!)

Set 2 - First few days in Pila-Pila, including my first heart-wrenching drive down the Pasig River floodway. That sapin-sapin was FREAKIN' GOOD!

Set 3 - Side trip to Tagaytay and Cavite. We stayed at my cousin-in-law's parents' place, and the first night we arrived he promptly proceeded to blow a power line turning on that monster AC unit. Only in the Philippines... at 1 in the morning, the neighborhood electricians stopped by (a pair of pliers hanging off his windbreaker pants, electrical tape rolled up in his beanie) and the neighbors brought out a homemade wooden ladder (rickety and flimsy). These two guys then proceeded to pick up the live power line off the ground (I was only able to grab a somewhat blurry snapshot of them), carry it up the ladder, and reattach it to the house. Sparks flyin' everywhere. In the rain. With lightning just a few kilometers away. Gotta love it.

Set 4 - Just more photos of the parents' house. Oh, and Pampanga's best tocino.

Set 5 - Cousin Leah's wedding to Dennis. The church was quite amazing, and the light on that entrance was just perfect...I wish I had brought my SLR. The sweet and sour fish at the reception kicked ass.

Set 6 - More family over at the parents' house. What's great about vacation is that you can go 2+ days without a shower and no one will care... Until they see the bottom of your feet.

Set 7 - Trip to Megamall. Megamall definitely feels bigger than Mall of Asia (if not, it definitely has more stores). Beard Papa cream puffs are hella good. And Waffle Time waffles. And chicken skin chicaron. There is just soooo much food to eat there. And you should see the video of the group playing music at Dad's buffet. Great fun for all.

Set 8 - Trip to Laguna. We didn't get to go as far as we would have liked because it was raining and getting dark, but food at Exotica kicked serious ass. Their fruit drinks were unbelievable! But definitely bring your DEET, cuz we all got eaten alive by spider bites there.

Set 9 - House blessing/barrio fiesta. Lots of banners hung all over town (forgot what they're called?) and lots of folks selling toys and stuff. At church, standing six feet tall you feel really awkward, like a sore thumb with a thousand eyes staring at you. The food at our house blessing was just so-so, but that freshly made puto bong bong(?) was freakin' good.

Set 10 - Trip to Janosa on Talim Island. They had a pretty neat fiesta/pagoda there; it was quite an amazing thing to witness...hundreds of people dancing, singing, getting soaked, happy. I went photo-crazy here.

Set 11 - My last day was the most ambitious one of the trip... Stop at the Duavit compound for a tour of one amazing vacation home, then a rush to Antipolo to pray for a safe journey, then a mad scramble to Mall of Asia before sunset. The crazy thing about Mall of Asia is that every Friday and Saturday night at 7 they have a fireworks show. But the fireworks are launched from the beach sidewalk, right in front of the mall! So the incindiaries are like right there, shooting powder in your face, embers landing on cars...you gotta love it. And Hypermarket is one freakin' big ass store!!

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Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Yummy.

You know what really sucks?

Spreading the last remaining contents of your near-empty mayonnaise container on your sandwich, then looking at the expiration date and seeing: "Best when used by 22 JAN 2006"

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Saturday, August 05, 2006

Sidewalks Are For People

Staring out the window of Gate 22 of Narita International Airport, I find it hard to come up with an adequate description for the inevitable question: “So how was your trip?” I don’t think pictures or words are enough to convey the emotion I felt on that last 90 minute drive from my Mom’s tiny little barrio/barangay to the old and worn down Ninoy Aquino International Airport. There’s just so much to say about my last two weeks, that the only thing that comes in clearly right now are those crisp words painted in blue paint on that virginal white wall on the road to the airport: “Sidewalks Are For People. Bawal Magtindahan Dito”. But if I keep trying, the memories start coming… first, a little trickle – “Bawal umihi dito!” painted everywhere; the sweet taste of freshly cracked rambutan on the side of a rain soaked road in the hills of Laguna; the sound of those roosters the first morning I woke up at my parent’s (new) house…

Then more: that smell in our bathroom (that reminded me of Holland) because of poorly constructed ventilation that my Dad fought over with the builders a year ago; the two little kids in Baytown sitting on the side of the road in pouring rain, washing their hair in the murky brown water that was splashed up by my cousin’s car as we passed; the two little girls that refused to let my mom close her door in Antipolo until we relented and gave them 5 pesos; the little dramas in our family that blow up into big scandals, and watching my Mom and her ate act as mediators and smoothing out the situations; how life slows down and time melts away when you accept the fact that everything is two hours away, no matter how fast you try to drive; the tears in my Mom’s eyes when we visited my Lola & Lolo’s grave; the sheer terror (and utmost respect) I felt as our various drivers skillfully weaved in and out of traffic, playing chicken with oncoming tricycles and jeeps; the goosebumps on my arm when my cousin told the story of when her two year old daughter woke up in the middle of the night, pointing at a picture in our grandparents’ old house saying, “Lola. Lola.” (she had never seen her before she died)...

And it’ll just keep on coming and coming: brightly lit fifty-foot billboards peddling stylish mega-expensive clothes, towering over some of the poorest neighborhoods you have seen; the huge lots in Taytay filled with trash, with people sifting through garbage; the beautiful solid wood floors and Noel Blanco paintings in an amazing P70M vacation home/compound; the amazing view from Leslie’s restaurant overlooking the Taal volcano, and the similarly amazing food; P100 Mangojitos at Mall of Asia; gaining what must’ve been at least 15 pounds from all the freakin’ food…

And then there was the sensory overload: those crazy frogs that were SO loud (there must’ve been a million of them singing in harmony) every night; the relentless smell of diesel fumes whenever you’re outside; the sheer ruckus of unregulated exhausts on tricycles, jeepney rooster horns, car horns, loud diesel motors, siren horns, whistles from traffic cops; the fireworks show at Mall of Asia that were about oh…fifty feet away, landing on cars and the street, the powder in your face; and that haze…everyday, ground-level pollution everywhere.

So I’m not sure what to say.

I take that back. I know I can say two things:

  1. I want Rica Peralejo to be the mother of my children.
  2. Filipino motorcycle riders have the biggest balls I have ever seen (and yes, I do mean the women too). Holy crap…we were watching one rider one night: no lights, in the rain, carrying (not wearing) their helmet, wearing only shorts, tsinelas and a t-shirt, passing cars left and right, even against traffic.

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Thursday, August 03, 2006

Magandang Gabi Po

It’s now Thursday evening, leaving me only two more nights in the Philippines. The rain finally stopped the other day, letting in the sunshine (out here, sunblock is mandatory – the sun beats down on you like a little boy burning ants with his magnifying glass). It’s a particularly amazing evening tonight, the sun setting away from view off to the right. A strong cool breeze is blowing off Laguna de Bay, and in this dim light you can barely tell that the water is a dark murky brown; you can only make out the shadows of floating water-lilly patches, and the occasional passing boat. My youngest brother is trimming chicken in the kitchen, in preparation for his curry chicken dish. My Mom is sitting in the living room chit-chatting with her cousin, or aunt, or niece, or some kind of relative/friend. My Dad is off running around somewhere in the air-conditioned comfort of Megamall, and I’m standing out on the upstairs deck, soaking in the final days of my short stay here. The neighbors are blasting some Filipino rock song (I need to find out who that group is!) A tricycle fires up in the distance and the dog next door barks out in frustration at being tied up in the yard. There’s some kids standing by the water, hanging out, talking…

I’m definitely going to miss my stay here.

Despite the lack of hot water, despite the dirty clothes or the daily bug bites (I’m SO itchy right now – I gave up on my twice-daily DEET applications a few days ago), I’m glad I was able to finally return to the land of my parents after being away for 30 years. This has been one amazing trip; better than I could have ever imagined it to be…without an itinerary, thanks to my awesome cousins and relatives, I was able to see so many different sides of the Philippines.

And whenever I think back to all that’s happened over the past ten-plus-days, I sometimes find it hard to handle – there’s just so much that I’ve never experienced before. Heck…take today, for example… We took a boat ride out to Talim island to visit the town of one of my mom’s classmates. Get off the boat, and start walking. About two minutes into town, we turn the corner and witness preparations for lechon – in the middle of the street! (I won’t go into the gory details – my cousin started to break down in tears). We then went to the church and joined in the town fiesta, where they had a pagoda. It was literally an amazing spectacle of the entire town, gathered in front of the church, dancing with the patron saints, two marching bands playing music (I was only able to make out tinikling as one of the songs), and the people in the neighborhood dousing everyone with water. It was exhilarating to see so many people so happy and so carefree; in the heat; soaking wet; carrying patron saints; after marching what must’ve been several kilometers (we saw them coming from the distance). My mom tells me that the ritual is a celebration of the water around them, which is their way of life – fishing, bathing, commerce, etc…

I’m not sure what awaits tomorrow on our last day here (I hear talk about trying to get us into Wowowee) but whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be NOTHING like the quiet, sanitized, hurried and stress-filled life that awaits me back home in San Mateo.

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