revenge of the killer tomatoes 13

ah, i’ve been living high and large over the past few months and too distracted by the many new adventures to attend to my blog.  deepest apologies to my audience of 3. 

two weeks ago i struggled to read an epic reboot of the D.C. Comics universe.  i dropped it after a chapter, then listened to The Doctrine explain why, in the history of epic reboots, the D.C. version utterly failed. 

so one moment i cared only for the X-Men’s slick art work and the cinematic production’s brilliant decision to cast Hugh Jackman. the next moment i assimilated everything there was to know about X-Men to date, why the writer of Buffy the Vampire Slayer did so well with the epic series, how the parallel universes co-existed and collided, why The Doctrine kept his spiffy comic books individually wrapped in their original covers and sealed in a special box.  this is not a lesson in comic books and graphic novels.  it is called Marriage.

anyway, i decided to do a reboot of my own.  God knows i’ve been doing that over the past few months.  in the second quarter of 2009, The Doctrine and I succeeded in taking a week-long vacation, mostly in breathtaking Bohol (more on that later).  i tried yoga.  i picked up my badminton racquet again.  i rediscovered our village park in new running shoes.  i’ve been reading more and more books outside my comfort zone (does the D.C. book count??).

so yes, i’m back. see you around.

a weekend escapade to the hundred islands in pangasinan was just what i needed to shake off my blog lethargy.  

entitled “sun, sea, sand, wii”, our office outing was KKB (kanya-kanyang bayad, or dutch treat) for budgetary reasons, but it did not lack for fun and excitement.  we certainly did not lack for food - i don’t think i’ve ever eaten as much rice, fresh bangus, liempo or junk food in one weekend.  thanks to our office team and our gracious hosts in mangatarem, it was a rejuvenating two and a half days. 

the hundred islands was a pleasant surprise.  i did not expect the pristine waters or the fine white sand.  i have seen too many places battered by tourists, sea-scapes ruined by sprawling concrete hotels.  it’s incredible that the hundred islands have been kept clean and unspoilt. 

never mind the “tender, juicy hotdog” ad for purefoods below each island’s name on signs planted along the boat route.  heck, if corporate sponsorship keeps the islands clean, that’s fine - so long as the ads are not too distracting.

we first set foot on governor’s island.  i was at first reluctant to climb up a trail to the top of the island.  it was a thankfully short hike on very safe, paved steps, that ended with an iced buko treat at the peak. 

for an extra 200 pesos we found old scout’s island, a relatively secluded spot with powdery white sand and a lovely swimming beach partly shaded by limestone cliffs.  i don’t drink beer, but it was the perfect time to chug a bottle of San Mig light:  lying on subtly shifting sand and cool, shallow waters, looking out to a calm blue sea dotted with mounds of forest green, laughing between sips. 

we spent the rest of the weekend in the family pool, improving our Wii boxing and tennis skills, and trading stories over vodka-orange cocktails and shamelessly oily, delicious food.  heading back to manila, our ripe mangoes in tow, we dozed off in happy exhaustion. 

*hmm, does anyone still use the phrase “paradigm shift”?

i’m a year older this month, and so is this blog.  thanks again to my brother freezing over in montreal who, a year ago, set up this site for me as a birthday gift.   

i was hanging out with a journalist friend last friday at a coffee shop - an oasis of calm in the middle of ortigas, the coffee bean and tea leaf shop near the jollibee plaza -  when i thought about writing in my post-corporate-world life (a.k.a. retirement).   something to ponder on for the next few years, till i trade in my dilbert spectacles for… i don’t know what. yet. 

i am too young to think about retiring!  but stranger things have happened.  like leaving mainstream law practice years ago after toiling for five years in law school and all those sleepless nights at my former law firm.  i actually relished being a struggling associate ferreting out once-obscure legal issues and devising grand schemes, errr, solutions. so yes, leaving was strange. 

i am constantly inspired by people around me who are masters of reinvention: economist-researcher-turned-chorale-conductor-cum-pianist.  investment-banker-turned-furniture-and-interior-designer.  corporate suits plotting to become chefs, web designers, restaurateurs.  photographers who happen to be qualified lawyers…  reinventing life, let alone re-imagining it, is not for everyone.  certainly not for the fainthearted or the complacent.   

a year older.  

i’m thankful that i’ve never had an accident on the road while driving.  thankful that my parents, brother and in-laws are just a phone call away.  happy that hubby is so tolerant of my musings even when i meander.  grateful for being able to walk my dogs when i need cheering up.  grateful for my pleasantly imperfect life, but wanting to move on.  next adventure, please!

Hanoi, Vietnam  -   Hanoi was more bucolic than I expected. 

Scooters and motorcycles occupied half of the road but they didn’t zing or zag or swerve.  The engines puttered away steadily, bearing as many as four people. 

There were no gargantuan malls like the ones we have in Manila.  That’s a good thing, of course.  I never subscribed to the school of thought which measured the progress of a city by the presence of glitzy department stores and similar monuments to consumerism…  Hanoi’s charming Old Quarter has rows and rows of shops tended by artisans and traders.  If you’re not used to the heat and humidity though, shop-hopping all afternoon will kill you.

According to our generous host partner, Hanoi has 12 lakes.  What is even more impressive is that their lakes are clean and teeming with fish.  Our hotel, the Intercontinental Hanoi West Lake, sits calmly on a lake, like fishermen’s houses on  stilts but nicely done in concrete, colonial-like architecture.  Each hotel room has glass doors that open out to your private balcony and a piece of the lake.

We had an exceptional dinner at Le’Orientale (not sure if I got that name right), where fabulous tables were laid out in the restaurant’s basement wine cellar.  I thought I had had enough of dumplings till I tasted the excellent food in that restaurant. 

On Saturday morning, we got a taste of Vietnamese coffee atop an old boat.  Highlands Cafe may feel a bit rundown but it offers good views of the lake and of the locals casting fishing lines by the shore.  A couple of hours later, we headed to Cafe Mai downtown and bought bags of coffee beans, supposedly the best in Hanoi.  I took home just one bag, belatedly realizing it cost only 2 US dollars.  The price in Vietnamese dong just throws you off - I exchanged 150 US dollars and received over 2 million VND in return. 

I regret not visiting the Temple of Literature, one of the oldest universities in Asia, as well as the Ho Chih Minh museum.  I could’ve gone to the tourist attractions on my own, but I just didn’t feel juiced up enough to explore beyond my hotel and the few shopping streets in the Old Quarter.  Next time, I will pack more energy! 

On the way home to Manila, I made a shameful shopping stop in Hong Kong, spending about 4 hours at the Citygate outlets despite my worn feet.  I guess I missed the hustle and bustle of the cosmopolitan life. 

I liked Hanoi but because of the work I had to do, my mind was unprepared for the city’s slowness and tranquility.  I should return to Hanoi with an empty suitcase.

I’m not American.  I live halfway around the world.  And this former colony of Spain and America we call our home, our Philippines, is plagued by so many other problems that deserve a hundred other blog posts. 

I closely watch the US poll movements and electoral maps showing the red and blue states.  I try to view all the major speeches on both sides.  I am curious about how first-time voters will turn out and express themselves come election day.  I read analysts’ and pundits’ blogs, even watch interviews with candidates’ families. 

I cheer when Barack Obama fires up the crowd on ’gut issues’ for Americans who bear the brunt of the economic crisis.  I get all riled up about the sleazy Republican campaign and the outright lies they spread, like Obama being Muslim (my cousin in LA still thinks he is!) or Palin being anti-earmark and anti-pork (she actually hired a lobbyist to get more pork; credible news organizations have already exposed this).   

As a woman, I am disgusted by the manipulative and deceitful posturing of Sarah Palin, who aspires to be the first female vice-president of the United States.  I keep thinking: whether you like Hillary Clinton or not, she pushed the boundaries and set the standard for women in government - what’s the fuss over an inferior Palin about?  I am amazed at how incredibly articulate and grounded Michelle Obama is, even when she’s not running for public office herself. 

It is no longer a mystery why Filipinos and citizens of other nations are so interested in the US election campaign - it’s because we are all affected by the political and economic policies that come out of Washington DC.

I first saw Barack Obama in an interview with Oprah, after he delivered that stirring nomination speech that endorsed John Kerry and catapulted Obama into the national spotlight.  After hearing him narrate his life and explain his views, my reaction was, “Wow!  Is he the real deal?” 

I was hooked.  I’ve read his so-called ‘think piece’, the “Audacity of Hope”.  While it’s not outstanding in all respects, it conveys promise that things are going to change in the US, that those reforms will send ripples everywhere.   After reading Obama’s book, it saddened me that Filipino politicians do not even try to think about reforming a system that’s broken. 

Here, all you need is a surname that sounds like a former Senator or President, a catchy slogan or an irresistible jingle blaring on the streets or some screen siren’s endorsement, and truckloads of money to ensure victory on election day.  Someone landed in the Philippine Senate on the strength of hundreds/thousands of streamers supposedly to show that her face resembled that of a popular young actress (honestly, it was a far stretch).  Our very own President began her national political career by spreading cheesy photos of her looking like Nora Aunor.  And a former President won the office because he kicked ass in action flicks.  Duh.

Before Palin proclaimed her pride in being a ‘hockey mom’ - apparently, that just about sums up her political experience - I had envied the relatively sober manner by which the Democrat and Republicans campaigns were waged.  At least the campaigns talked about real-life issues.  It was refreshing to actually see candidates speaking on the differences in their world view and their action plans for the White House. 

Apparently the battle on issues didn’t work for McCain, so he brought in Palin who is all glitz, guts and glory, without substance.  Classic Sun Tzu.   When the enemy is closing in on you, use a distraction to confuse the enemy. 

I sure wish women in America would re-focus on other women leaders in government and the private sector who are far more inspiring and deserving of adulation than Palin. 

Hillary had set a high bar - she has traveled far and struggled for the causes of women and children, and embodies the kind of intelligence and competence that is deserving of public office.  All of a sudden, Palin’s empty rhetoric is the embodiment of women empowerment?!  Hillary supporters should feel insulted. 

During the Democratic primaries, the Republicans exploited the supposed ‘weaknesses’ of Hillary - that she comes across too strong, that she is a polarizing figure, etc etc.  And now they tout Palin as “Sarah Barracuda”?!  (By the way, the band Heart has protested the unauthorized use of their song at the Republican National Convention.  Tsk, someone dropped the due diligence ball on copyright…)

Hillary Clinton put 18 million cracks in the glass ceiling.  Sarah Palin said she won’t just create cracks - she would break it.  I highly doubt that.  More like crack…pot. 

before the memories fade, i resolved to finish writing about my trip to prague last may.  to friends who’ve been prodding me for pictures of prague, here they are.

—————————– 

Prague, Czech Republic -   

Just before I stepped into my sleeping cabin on board the inter-city train from Cracow, the train attendant handed me a Prague city map.  It looked like something Nancy Chandler could’ve made (her maps are excellent guides for Bangkok and its labyrinthine markets).  I thought my Prague map was just as reliable until I lost my way.  A kind lady at my hotel reception replaced my map after letting out a good laugh. 

my hotel room in prague and the church just across the street, which i initially used as a landmark.  there must be a dozen structures that looked like it.     

our Prague city walking tour group passing through a tunnel.  view from a cafe, waiting for the tour to start.

walking tour

I must say our tour guide was a great disappointment.  His occasional sexist comments aside, I couldn’t help comparing him with our excellent guide in Berlin, whose cohesive and insightful narration was also immensely entertaining.  Oh well, at least I saw most of the major Prague attractions in one day.  Prague is at the same time postcard-perfect and intriguing - the beautiful and the bizarre actually live side by side in that city.

There were exhibits of Salvador Dali and Alfons Mucha at a gallery in the Old Town Square.  

the astronomical clock

As the crowd waited for the Astronomical Clock to mark the hour, a newly married couple ran to the bottom of the clock’s tower and posed for photos.   We didn’t know them from Adam, but we cheered as they kissed. 

Don’t expect the clock to deliver a mind-blowing mechanical show - it is, after all, nearly 600 hundred years old!  Four figures represent things that were despised in the 15th century: Vanity (adoring himself in a mirror), Greed (holding a bag of gold), Death (a skeleton that strikes the time), and a Turkish man (gasp, this is said to be antiquated racism).  The 12 Apostles march behind tiny windows to mark the hour.   Far more fascinating than the old animatronics is the astronomical clock itself, which has a zodiac calendar in addition to telling the time and season. 

Like Cracow, many structures in Prague were spared by World War II and have been preserved.  While walking on Prague’s cobblestone streets, I couldn’t help thinking about home.  Manila, former capital of the Philippines, was the second most damaged city in WWII.   

the haunting

I’m Catholic but I didn’t feel at all comforted by the religious references I found on the Charles Bridge, a 14th century bridge that looks like it sprang out of the gates of Mordor.  A website says that an evening stroll on the bridge would be a romantic one, what with the breathtaking views of the river and the Prague Castle.  Maybe I have an overly active and bizarre imagination, but those almost-pitch-black, looming figures that lined the bridge would look menacing in the evening amidst an eerie floating mist!

st. vitus’ cathedral

St. Vitus’ Cathedral is certainly an architectural masterpiece.  Beyond that though, I did not have the same moving experience as I did in Cracow.  St. Vitus’ Cathedral has amazing stained-glass windows, vaulted ceilings and ornate carvings but because it was practically run over by tourists, gone arethe solemnity and reverence that would otherwise appeal to people of any faith.  That said, the cathedral is a memorable lesson in Gothic art.  I especially learned a lot about gargoyles! 

I paid for a ticket to a classical concert at St. George’s Basilica within the Prague Castle grounds but was too exhausted at the end of the walking tour to see it.  Too bad.  But there will be other opportunities to listen to Vivaldi et al anyway. 

I spent my last evening in Prague savoring my early dinner and resting my cobblestone-sore feet.  By morning, I was back in fighting form.  I dashed quickly to a shopping mall near our hotel (as if I didn’t have enough clothes in my suitcase!), made a work-related stop, then counted my last few hours in the city with leisurely steps along the river. 

I donated half of my enormous pizza lunch to the lady at the hotel reception desk who kindly replaced my Prague city map.  Good deeds, after all, should be rewarded.

nowadays it’s not enough to be smart. 

you have to be fascinating and exuberant.  you need a dash of color, theatre and drama, on top of a hefty sense of humor. 

on the job, you have to be on the ball, spot on, switched on, revved up, always hitting the ground running.  you need to know your job and everything else remotely connected to it. 

offline, you must know how to order a decent bottle of wine, have stock anecdotes to regale your audience with while properly uncorking the champagne, and given moderate levels of inebriation, dance a mean tango.  you can’t just carry a tune, you have to be rocking awesome on the videoke.

you can’t just have a general appreciation for art.  you need a well-nurtured eye for impressionists and cubists and neo-impressionists and neo-cubists, distinguish the Seurats from the Monets, Chagall’s whimsy from Kandinski’s quirks.  you just have to know something about modern design beyond the Eameses, to actually see Gehry’s amazing silver-gray structures (the one at Bard in upstate NY looks like an armadillo to me) or Frank Lloyd Wright’s starkly geometric window panes.  the urbane Pinoy can spot a Kenneth Cobonpue chair, a Budji Layug table or a Cacnio brass sculpture as quickly as you can say “Mies Van de Rohe”.

and shame on you if you missed Matisse’s painting of voluptuous women dancing in the cobalt blue sky at a stairway landing in the MOMA or worse, haven’t visited Juan Luna’s enormous 19th-century masterpiece, the Spoliarium (hmm, not counting the bucolic Amorsolos, how many great Filipino art works have you seen?). 

Above: the Alphabet of Design Classics; Philippine National Hero Jose Rizal, who was a polymath and polyglot. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jose_Rizal 

beyond the fundamentals of physics, calculus, chemistry and the natural sciences, you have to be a deft Wii warrior and know that “Second Life” does not refer to the afterlife.  you compete with digital natives and argue with open-source advocates just for the heck of it.  you must have looked Sue the tyrannosaurus rex in the eye and known that he/she was named after a swashbuckling female archeologist.

when you travel to other countries, every tourist you meet is a global citizen.  in Prague, i met a young twenty-ish Pinoy who was born in Manila, raised in Philadelphia, was studying Greek art in London and vacationing in the Czech Republic.  in Berlin, i had the most interesting conversation with a Democrat from Washington DC who said that Barack Obama is brilliant but might not win the Asian and Latino votes needed to be president.

the new world order 

the Googles, Yahoos, Wikipedias, blogspots, CNNs of the world have spawned new rules and standards for over-achievers and new dimensions of stress.  just look at the infant and toddler formula milk ads on TV - most of them promise to bring out your child’s greatest potential, i.e., become Boy Wonder/Girl Genius.  “intelligent” is for everyone else, your child just has to be a prodigy!

so does this leave the intelligence quotient as nothing more than an antiquated benchmark for abstract reasoning skills?  i personally prefer upping my “FF” (Fascinating Factor) or another version of “IQ” (Interesting Quotient). 

Cracow, Poland.  25 to 26 May 2008 -  I was thrilled to see the famous Old Town Square almost as soon as I arrived in Cracow. 

So excited was I that I spent less than 30 minutes unpacking and settling into my cozy hotel room.  I stayed at Hotel Wawel on Poselska Street, across a church that marked the hours with a soothing pealing of ancient bells.

I dashed to the Old Town Square, bursting with tourists, lively street performers, hungry pigeons, dolled-up horses and peddlers of food, stuffed dragons, amber jewelry and countless other crafts.

Regardless of your faith (or agnosticism or atheism), you will be amazed by St. Mary’s Cathedral - the altar made by Veit Stoss is breathtaking!  It was a spiritual experience for me. I visited that cathedral thrice while in Cracow.

At Kazimierz, there were grim reminders of the Holocaust but also of the resilient culture of the Jewish community in Cracow. 

Charming marionettes on a display window outside the Alef restaurant.  Old Jewish cafes.   

A scene in Schindler’s List was shot in this al fresco cafe.  Schindler was able to save hundreds of Cracovian Jews.

And all these add to Cracow’s charms…

Horse-drawn carriages and the modern tram circling the town -

 Hand-hewn and earth-grown wonders -

Poland has so many famous scientists. This statue is in honor of Copernicus.

Sitting inconspicuously around the bend of one of the streets surrounding the Old Town square is the Czartoryski Museum.  There is only one reason to visit it… 

…Leonardo da Vinci’s “Lady with an Ermine” - one of only three portraits of women by da Vinci  and said to be the most beautiful of all those paintings.  It is also touted as the world’s first modern-age portrait.  Out of reverence for The Master, I refused to take a photo (I think it was allowed) and just stared at it as long as I could manage.

Steps leading to the top of the tower with Wenceslas’ bell, and the panoramic view of Cracow as reward for the trouble of climbing up.

Legend has it that a dragon once lurked inside Wawel Castle and terrorized the townspeople.  A huge bone hangs outside the entrance to the Cathedral of Wawel Castle, said to have belonged to the dragon that was slain by the King’s sons.  The bone looks like it actually belonged to a dinosaur. 

While visiting Wawel Castle I heard Chopin’s piano music wafting from a stone wall.  There was a music store inside the castle, selling only classical music.  They were out of Chopin CDs, unfortunately. 

Here’s my favorite view of the Wawel castle -

On my second and last night in Cracow, I savored my dinner at an al fresco Greek cafe.  I waited for the lights to dim, the music to die down at the square, while I shivered in the May breeze.  But that moment never came.  I walked back to my hotel then woke up to the sound of church bells the following morning. 

A startling article on CNN today reported that a top engineer at Toyota, who led the development of the hybrid Camry, died from overwork.  He clocked in more than 80 hours of overtime a month.

Death from overwork is so prevalent in Japan, the condition actually has a name: karoshi.  The Health Ministry is said to have recognized the phenomenon in 1987 and cases have steadily increased since then.

A terribly sad way to go.  The real tragedy isn’t in their death - it’s how they lived their lives outside work. 

Perhaps the 45-year-old Toyota engineer could have been the genius to break worldwide dependency on oil - if he allowed himself the “indulgence” of spending more time at home or on a BlackBerry-free vacation.

Years ago I lived in a one-room flat with a sofa-bed, an overloaded bookshelf, and a dining table that only saw hurriedly cooked, meatless spaghetti from a can, and pizza from a place that knew my dinner order by heart.  The condo unit was within 15 to 20 minutes from the office, convenient for those times when I could only drag my feet home from work. 

I would regularly spend 10 or 15 hours, sometimes more, at the office.  And every minute was stressful as hell.  A client once walked into our reception lobby and just stood there, watching lawyers pacing back and forth or frowning at computer screens, legal assistants running around like headless chickens, and messengers shuffling around boxes of documents.  He nearly had a heart attack just by looking at us.  I told him that he pays us to worry on his behalf.

I left that world. 

Every time I feel tempted to return to it, I remind myself of the simple thrills I now enjoy.  Skipping over to a 5-level bookstore a few minutes away.  Having a decent lunch with colleagues who talk about their families (whom they actually spend time with) and hobbies (which they actually engage in, not just purchase).  Dinner with long-time friends to review food, wine, films and art, rant about politics and crack up over old jokes and tales.  Browsing rows of fresh cut flowers at a nearby market.  Reading 2 books and a magazine simultaneously, none of which are related to work.  Calling Mom and Pop almost every night to regale them with my latest driving misadventures.  Plopping up on the couch at home for a DVD marathon with Hubby while our two dogs race to sit on my lap. 

I’m still a workaholic.  Still competitive.  But a different person. 

a month after i left my old job, a whole new world!

There are few things more empowering than traveling to other countries on your own, especially if you’re an Asian woman.  But a husband or significant other can be quite handy during a trip.  Here’s why.

1.   It’s tougher to coax strangers to take your picture.  - I usually try to spot a family traveling together or someone pushing a baby stroller.  I think it’s less likely that they’ll flee with your precious digital camera.  Of course there’s no hard and fast rule and any con artist worth his salt would look like the most innocent tourist.  That’s why I had few pictures in Prague and NY with myself in them.   

hubby can’t refuse to take crazy pictures of me. (yokohama, 2008)

i shot this from a window at our NY office (2006) when no one was looking. believe me, i tried to pose for the pic with the cityscape behind me.  i failed. 

2.  If you’re struggling with your suitcase, your S.O. has no choice but to help. -  I confess to playing the weak card on this.  Combine huffing and puffing with “miserable puppy” eyes for maximum effect.  If you’re strong and athletic and have no need for an extra hand, fine, congratulations.  But if you’re a wimp - physically, like me - it’s not a great setback to women’s empowerment. 

3.  If you get lost, you’re not alone.  -  Hubby and I initially set out for Ayutthaya, Thailand with the intention of renting bicycles when we get to the island.  We spotted several bike rental shops after the ferry ride, but put off renting bikes in the hope of finding a better deal.  Eventually we ran out of bike shops.  No problem, we thought.  Until we got lost on foot.  It was a gruelling 2 hours of wandering aimlessly under the scorching sun.   But thank goodness for Hubby who kept my spirits up when our bottled water was running low.  And hallelujah for elephants!  That cost us an arm and a leg but we actually enjoyed the quirky, bumpy ride.

photos from our second trip to thailand (2006), our favorite shopping destination.

4.   You have an excuse for eating second helpings and more.  -  Hubby and I are passionate about Japanese food.  At Asakusa in Tokyo, I ate five or six plates of sushi and sashimi, not counting Hubby’s plates which I helped clean out.

more photos from our first time in tokyo together (2008), courtesy of abie co. 

5.  Someone can veto your foolish purchases.  -  Having a shopping companion who knows you well can be good or bad, depending on what he/she thinks is an unwise acquisition.  In our case, a Voltes V toy robot was definitely one of the best buys of our life (we were both fans of the Voltes V anime that was, after several episodes, banned from Philippine television by former dictator Ferdinand Marcos).  Clothes are a different matter.  Hubby might have vetoed the trench coat I got in Poland.  

Two thoughts after my Eastern European adventure - which I’ve yet to finish writing about on this blog: (1) Every Filipina should travel to Europe alone at least once in her life; (2) One’s fascination is multiplied infinitely when traveling with a wonderful companion.