Guess who came back unscathed from the torturing heat of sauna-esque Manila...

I had a blast at the 33rd Annual United Architects of the Philippines Convention (Link warning: shield your eyes from the tacky twinkling headline) Everything was fabulous... well maybe except for the fact that we were treated like meat. Meat, in a sense that we were moved (No I Know What You Did Last Summer meat hooks involved) from one huge freezer to another transported using mobile refrigerators known as "air-conditioned vehicles". I am all for the movement against global warming but I don't think I could have survived 10 minutes in Manila without air conditioning... I have hyperactive sweat glands, we Baguio folk just ain't cut out for hot-humid lowland weather y'all.

I am not a spell-freak, heck I don't even proof read my blog entries. But upon registering, I couldn't help my inner editor from cringing when I saw the convention ID.


Did you notice the unfortunate typo? And it's in all IDs... tsk tsk.

Our three day weekend of debauchery was beyond my comprehension. I found an inner source of stamina I never knew I had. Just when I thought I couldn't possibly get dressed and go out anymore, a sponsored night out had me picking clothes from my trunk... I never refuse free booze... from friends and paint manufacturers alike.


Me, Dona and Tine in one of Malate's bars... Bars are Malate's mushrooms, they spring up everywhere regardless of the availability of sunlight or parking space. Smoking beside a gas dispenser was a first. I'd post more pics but they're pretty much predictable not to mention redundant. (Us eating a Cabalen's... Us eating at Rai Rai Ken... Us getting liquored up in Dencio's... Us getting plastered in Tropezz... Us getting smashed in a friend's condo... etc. etc... The dionysian life baby) We always found ourselves checking into our hotel rooms by 4 in the morning... like clockwork.

Our days, or what's left of them, were spent at World Trade Center attending (okay, sitting idly) seminars. Most of them appeared interesting on paper but between the inaudible sound system and the newspaper textured catered food, they didn't hold our interest very long. So the CONEX 2007 (Convention Exhibits) were a perfect diversion/ way to spend the remainder of the day. It is here we are introduced to new or improved construction materials and technology (and freebies to boot!) One particular exhibit that caused a stir was a stall that showed a 3d printer. I have seen the technology on TV but never in person... I was starstruck. Here's a "print-out" of a prototype rubber shoe sole.


It uses powdered plaster and a solvent of some sort to bind the powder. It costs helluvalot but I want one!

Our early evenings were spent at the Manila Hotel. I couldn't help but strut like Sydney Bristow on a black ops heist whenever I walked the hotel's plush carpets, especially after I go through the metal detector. Being in a lobby of people clad in suits and sayas has that effect on me.


The last night in the Manila Hotel was particularly memorable. First, we saw a handful of distinguished architects wearing superhero costumes (a contest) They went all out with unflattering white leotards and red spandex. There was a flash and a "mini-me" flash, a mutated wolverine that looked like Winnie the pooh, and several incarnations of Lastikman. Second, Boysen (a major sponsor) showed this TV ad for a new antibacterial paint they were marketing. It's an interesting product, but the ad was frickin hilarious! It was a beyond miserable adaption of House, MD. The main character is a pompous dufus named Dr. Home. That alone had me going stark laughing mad, add the ridiculous one-liners and the background music and I was sure I had lost my sanity.

Lastly came the raffle. I have the worst luck with these things as I've previously blogged about. The grand prize was some something inch LCD TV, which someone from another chapter got. The first set of prizes they handed out were file cabinets. YES, File Cabinets!!! We were laughing our asses off when we heard about the prize. The instant communal image in our heads were those huge clunky metal file cabinets we all grew to detest. That was the first raffle I've ever participated in where everyone, in our table at least, prayed not to win. A couple of my friends kept saying "Mananalo ka! Promise!!!" (You will win) I just crossed my fingers went to my happy place. The raffle drawer announced that third one to win the prize came from our chapter, we were pointing at each other like deranged witch hunters... dramatic pause waiting for a drum roll... and irony of ironies... my name resounded from the speakers. My instant thought was "Fuck!"... and my second thought became "Fuck it!". I am not one to bow down to the humiliating powers of a file cabinet. So I rose with as much grace as I could muster and walked gingerly toward the stage to claim my prize. It wasn't the clunky metal file cabinet we thought it would be... It's a whole lot smaller and is made of plastic. It has found a home in my room now... a tangible manifestation of my abhorrence for raffles.



And that was how I spent my weekend.

FYI, my camel made it back to Baguio safe and sound as well.










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Labels: architecture, blah (3x), i-rate, nyt-out, travels

The Egyptians had their pyramids, the Aztecs their stepped pyramids... the Greeks had their acropolis, the Romans had their basilicas... and us, Filipinos have our humongous shopping malls.

The monumental forms of architecture of any civilization pretty much sums up the general priorities of the population. Pharaohs who had an obsession for immortality had slaves (with or without the aid of supposed aliens) build the pyramids with cosmological consultation. The Aztecs temples were used for human sacrifices. The Greek acropolis was a haven for religion, arts and democracy. The Roman basilicas for law and government.

The Filipino shopping mall is a refuge from hot humid weather, a warehouse for all thing bright and shiny, a hub for commerce and entertainment. It is our version of the Greek agora and the Roman forum only with video arcades and air-conditioning.


A couple of weeks ago, after the family reunion we attended, the family decided to do a sidetrip to Manila. SM Mall of Asia was in our itinerary. The main draw for me was the IMax theater.

We Filipinos have outdone ourselves. The mall was huge, the only thing I was aching (literally) to buy was a Segway (ala GOB on Arrested Development). Given the landscape and location of the mall (which is along Manila Bay), I could see why they decided to sprawl the mall instead of stacking it up... it can take full advantage of the view without blocking it for the buildings behind it and a horizontal building silhouette works like magic against a body of water... But com'on... haven't they heard of conveyors and moving walks?


SM Mall of Asia (I am productive when bored to death):

1. Alice: "Toto, I don't think we're in Universal Studios anymore..."


2. A cup of yoghurt: "Ooooooh! A huuuuuge refrigerator! with a skating rink?! Joy!"
3. Al Gore: "Lessening the amount of air conditioning is A "moral imperative"!"

4. A cup of yoghurt: "Shut up Gore! have you read this?"
5. Al Gore: "No comment"

6. Minimalist: "Good enough"
7. Utilitarian: "Such a waste of space"
8. Environmentalist: "And energy too! The amount of air conditioning is directly proportional to the amount of enclosed space!"
9. Al Gore: "Yeah! ditto!"
10. A cup of yoghurt: "Here's another one Gore"


11. Dato' Seri Abdullah Ahmad Badawi: "I am having the weirdest, strongest sense of deja vu... I thought we just left the Kuala Lumpur International Airport?"


12. Peter Petrelli: "I don't remember posing for this ad... Must have been before my bangs were telekinetically chopped off my forehead"


13. Filipino-English lexicographer: "Maldita is the closest Filipino word for bitch, in the derogatory sense"


We also passed by the World Light Expo 2007... and by passed by I meant breezed through without going in cause everyone was too beat up to even consider walking amidst a multitude of light bulbs.


I've read from a brochure I got earlier from my Dad that it had an acrobat exhibition and one of 1st Qin Emperor's Terracotta Army (those unearthed sculptures of Chinese soldiers in flank formation). After reading a blog review, I was satiated with looking at the expo from afar. Review, schedules, fees and other pertinent info from Our Awesome Planet.


On the way to Bulacan, I nearly broke my neck trying to get this photo of the car's odometer. My brother, who was driving, has a thing for "7". That's his number as a basketball/ volleyball athlete, his car's plates end with 777, and so I found myself nudging him trying to get a decent picture of the mileage. No one got hurt.






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Labels: familia, filipinowledge, numerology, travels

The seventh church... I found myself staring blindly into a gold leafed tabernacle. The candles flickering like dancing fireflies, the scent of incense wafting in the air, orchestral music played just a few decibels over audibility. My cousin, to my right, on his knees praying solemnly. My thoughts, aside from my apparent somnambulism, are concentrated on the cascading waterfalls on which the tabernacle was set... a reminder of a project from the office I was supposed to be working on with a similar water feature in the plaza.

I was born into a long line of Roman Catholics... grew up with rosaries, scapulars, 3 o'clock prayers and Santo Ninos. Visita Iglesia is a paternal family tradition. It's basically visiting seven churches, offering prayers and 2.50 PhP candles, on Maundy Thursday. I am not a particularly religious person, (spiritual, maybe) however, I do love my family and its traditions. This is, personally, one of the touchiest subjects. At the risk of sounding crass, me and Roman Catholicism do not "mesh well together" for a number of reasons I'd rather not publish. Hate mail on Pacquiao is one thing, but comments from a devout Catholic and advice on "returning to the faith" would be an argument where neither party would win, concede or get anything out of.

I've always believed religion is a personal thing... If it works for you and gives you a sense of higher purpose, then you're probably doing something right. I have a great admiration for people with a passion for their religion... Catholic penitence during Lent, the Muslim's Salat in the direction of the qiblih, the Buddhist attainment of the Four Noble Truths, the Hindu awareness for Karma in the attainment of Nirvana... and so on. There are so many religions in the world, each with it's own set of enlightening truths... It's a smorgasbord for knowledge, one I've decided, at a young age, to take part of.


Ok, that was a tad too serious... even for a disclaimer. It's Lent talking. While we were doing our Visita Iglesia rounds, Tine and I can't keep our architect "mind voices" stifled:
"That doesn't look like a convent",
"I love the woodwork",
"The ornateness of the gates are impeccable",
"That mezzanine slab with those puny beams can't POssibly support that many pews!",
("Cute guy, 12 o'clock")


Last year, we spent Lent in my dad's home province of Bulacan. There is more to Baliuag than the green buses, the oh so yummy butong pakwan and the lechon manok. There is also the lavish fete known as "Prusisyon" (Procession) It's a parade of numerous floats with statues depicting the biblical stories of Jesus from his return to Bethlehem to his Resurrection. It's like going to Musei Vaticani but instead of walking through wide marbled corridors, you sit idly on benches as the art is showcased infront of you.

The statues are a little larger than human scale. The scent of scented candles, fresh flowers and incense waft after each float passes by. These photos were taken by my bro-in-law.






It's one of those spectacles that never ceases to awe me.





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Labels: blah (3x), filipinowledge, flashback music please, travels

I believe it's humanly impossible to keep track of the names, work histories, food preferences, ex-lovers, current lovers, eccentricities and what-nots of 100+ people. The human brain can only store so much.

Aloha!




I got leid last Saturday...

...As in a hawaiian lei dummy. Clad in batik with prints of tropical flowers, dolphins and all things bright and sunny, I spent my Saturday in a luau themed paternal family reunion. It was fun catching up with aunts, uncles and cousins thrice removed. I sure was glad Icky, one of my close cousins, thought of nametags. I usually ignite a gazillion brain cells grappling for names of familiar familial faces. I once spent 30 minutes chatting with someone I had no recollection of meeting before... It was hard concocting generalized questions and answers... weather an current events usually work. But spending a half hour conversation with a stranger is nowhere near as difficult as spending a whole day with a bunch of blood relatives you know nothing about.

I knew about 25% of the people in the reunion, and by "knew" I mean I can tell you their names, the names of their spouses, their kids, where they work, where they live, how much homemade ice cream they can eat in an hour, etc. etc. Ok, ok... most of the guys and gals in this 25% are near and dear to my heart (awww... shucks... cue slow tear drop from my left eye)

I can remember the names of the other 50% without the aid of "Hi, my name is ___" tags.

However, the remaining 25% are complete and utter strangers. I usually look like a buffoon smiling and waiting for the relative stranger to initiate small talk... which usually ends in awkward silences... and then an excuse for a need to be somewhere else... and then later a visit to one of my cousins, a nudge and a "Who's that girl in the white dress that speaks Japanese?", "Oh"... and then twenty seconds later your Harajuku cousin's name eludes you again.

It was excruciatingly hot in Bulacan. A sauna, al fresco. The coldest least warm area in the resort was at the entrance porte cochere. This was my refuge... 20 minute interval smoking breaks amidst palmeras and swimming koi. Smoking seems to be in my paternal genes. Nearly everyone with lungs and fingers and a job to sustain the habit were smokers. We must contribute about 10% of the CO2 in the atmosphere and 25% of the gross annual income of Marlboro. It's sad really... I'd cry but my all my brain cells are focused on inhaling tobacco fumes and holding the cigarette, my tear ducts have been disconnected from my nervous system. I can only multi-task to a certain degree.

Dehydration aside... I had fun at the reunion. I would forget most of my relatives names again in next year's reunion, but I think the nametags would be a permanent fixture by then. I could make a genealogy... nah, it wouldn't be fun...


Aloha!
(I wonder how hawaiians can differentiate if someone is coming or going when they say aloha)




... Oh! And I'm temporarily changing my "summer song" to Sunburn by Sandwich... I'm so lovin the song right now. I'll return to my original "summer song" when this one has lost its potency. The original one was Rupert Holmes' Escape... "If you like pina coladas, and getting caught in the rain..."



... Oh! And I was blogrolling and came upon a meme from Snglguy. It's The Thinking Blogger's Award... It's basically listing 5 blogs that force you to run the gears in your supposed brain. hehehe... I guess the five bloggers on my blogroll that make me go all Rodin and do this:

are:

1. Snglguy - Inside the Mind of a Single Guy - I know I shouldn't return the tag but heck, when it comes to politics and current events, snglguy is my CNN. (He breaks the news more entertainingly than say Larry King)
2. BW - The Warped Zone - You get a Buddha-esque sensation after blogrolling to BW's blog. I consider him the semi-enlightened one. :)
3. Ann - Fighting Gravity - She's younger than me in earth years but older than me in blog years. She's really smart. I love Miss Monalisa's laid back blogging style.
4. Ferdz - En Route - Ferdz makes me think the country isn't as fucked up as we assume... Nothing resembling the Dante's seventh circle of hell could possibly have the landscapes Ferdz features in his blog. He also makes me think I'm a foreigner in my own country. I so wanna see Bataan.
5. Wil - Miskina Ano na Isip - Wil can make the most astute observation about things we often neglect/ overlook. His blogging style is very mellow. I can't come up with an accurate english translation of his blog's name... "Whatever will do, Brain"(?)

These bloggers (and many more from my blogroll) are responsible for frying a bulk of my brain cells. I dunno whether I should thank you or go all Hannibal and make your brains entrees. hmmm... Predicament, predicament...



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Labels: blah (3x), familia, holidays, travels

Ruminations on a one day trip to Divisoria (aka my feet ache so badly I think they're gonna fall off)

1. Spending is such an odd word. Try saying it thrice and it loses meaning.
   
2. Bus conductors have excellent memory and superhuman balance in moving vehicles. I can't, for the life of me, imagine working as a long distance bus driver or conductor... Traveling the same route back and forth for n times a day. I'd be bored out of my mind! Although I must say driving a double decker is extremely enticing. I wonder if I'd be more confident driving a bus than I do a sedan or an SUV.
   
3. Chowking, from multiple taste tests, has the most scrumptious Danggit and the best Tofu.
   
4. "So this is how the world looks like at 6 in the morning... meh"
5. I've been to Divisoria twice before and the whole layout of the place still doesn't make sense to me, even after I looked it up on Wikimapia. Baguio's swerving streets are fairly easy to navigate, and most of Manila is planned with a gridiron pattern. Divisoria's streets however are a concrete and asphalt chop suey. The road signs (when available) aren't clearly visible, although my poor navigation skills would find no real use for them if they were. It isn't much different from Rome if you think about it. Replace the Tiber with the Pasig River, replace the Pantheon with the Tutuban mall, the Trevi fountain with leaking hydrants, gelato with dirty ice cream, "Quanto?"s with "Magkano?"s and you've got Divisoria. (oh, and add the smell of "cockroaches" ala Claire Danes... olfactory prude b*tch)
   
6. Divisoria is so chaotic... I love it to pieces. Aside from the streets (or lack thereof) the place is teeming with people. People walking, people running, people getting conked on the head by the massive sidemirrors of delivery trucks with drivers who have a compulsion to honk every three minutes. Honk and conk. Honk and conk.
   
7. Calamares tastes excellent with adobo if you're really really exhausted.
   
8. Here, 6 pieces is considered wholesale.
   
9. "Wait! this costs thrice in (insert overpricing mall here)!!!
10. Piracy has a class system according to apparent resemblance with the original. It takes a CSI to determine genuine Fendi bags or Hugo perfumes in these parts.
11. Small retractable trolleys cost 300 pesos (6 dollars)... believe me you'll need one (or two) Do you have any idea how much 140 pieces of box board weigh??? Let's just say, I was this close (making an action with my thumb and forefinger) making a collect call to Phil Pfister.
12. Even the most comfortable Chuck Taylors (mine) and Hushpuppies (ate Pam's) fail you if you walk all day. Masseuse!
13. When going to Divisoria for bulk shopping... go in droves. Ate Pam and I were contemplating how we could have possibly done the whole trip without my Dad and her brother. Elbow grease! That and my Dad is a supernatural navigator.
    
14. I have newfound respect for rickshaw drivers pedallers. Two carried all of us and all the boxes and bags and bales we bought to the terminal. There were no other accessible forms of transportation. Ate Pam and I must've looked terribly ridiculous when we see-sawed back and forth trying vainly to add some momentum to the struggling pedicab. We didn't notice because we were laughing our asses off.
    
15. A sore butt from a five to six hour bus ride makes everyone cranky.
16. I am stymied by people who watch Steven Seagal movies. There are people who actually like him? Gawd... degradation of the species. His name conjures images of birds in my mind. Especially those who say "mine, mine, mine" on the Sydney Harbor in Finding Nemo... stoic, and not the fashion forward super model stoicism nor the helpless botox induced stoicism. It's the "I don't have talent and/or thoughts in my brain and/or nerve endings on my face" type of visage. One was shown on the bus back to Baguio, it was the perfect sedative.
    
17. "It's a small world..." It's interesting... I usually ride Victory Liner buses, but on this rare occasion, me and ate Pam rode on a Genesis one because the station is closer to our destination. And it just so happens a highschool buddy of mine was on the same bus going home. He saw me smoking in one of the stop-overs. I forgot to mention that also during the Sagada trip, in the heart of the Sumaging Cave, I met a friend of mine from primary school as well. Is the world shrinking?
    
18. Divisoria should be on a tourist's itinerary. It's one of those gems only a few foreign tourists get to see. Don't ask me why it's called "the dividing line"... The answer was probably explained during one of my history classes while I was reading Scott Summers and Jean Grey's third attempt at a wedding... (Silver Surfer will be in the next Fantastic 4 movie! Can't wait! I wonder if Galactus tries to make the world a kebab)

This is Divisoria as the Silver Surfer might have seen it from his board.

Labels: boo-freakin-hoo, filipinowledge, travels

When my 13th post meets my second post on Sagada. Brace yourself for an even longer post...


Something in the air in Sagada made a nocturnal like me retire way before midnight and rouse before a two digit AM time. I guess the anticipation of seeing the sites of Sagada help a lot in awakening even the worst of sleepy heads. Here are 13 places you must visit when in Sagada.


1. The Sagada Municipal Hall
Okey, this isn't really an exciting start, more of a necessity primarily because of the Sagada Tourist Info Center. This is where you can find guides for all the tourist destinations (see: caves) It's best to drop by the Municipal Hall when you arrive, so you can inquire to your heart's extent. You'll also have to pay a very minimal environmental fee (less than 10 pesos per person) I wonder how such a miniscule amount can contribute to ecological purposes...


2. The Sugong Coffins
One of the cliffs with "hanging coffins", a local burial (ok the term doesn't apply) tradition. You can see the wooden coffins on the lower left side of the rock face. Our immediate question was "how?" and the locals didn't really give us clear cut answers so we formulated a procedure involving catapults and harnesses. And of course the next question is "why?", like all great human traditions, the answer to such a question is often hazy and subjective, but it's this ambiguity that makes such traditions great.


3. The Sumaging Caves
This is one of the three main caves in Sagada discovered (according to a rock along the entry path) in 1966. I have only been to one other cave in my lifetime, and it's liliputian compared to this one. A guide is required to enter the caves and I promise you... you will need them. Our guides were Raffy and Tots. If your guides are/were/will be as great as these two, you won't feel an ounce of claustrophobia, you'll always have a lit path and "Romeo and Juliet" (stalagmites) will hold a whole new meaning.


The inside of the Sumaging is almost otherworldly. It's how I would have imagined Moria pre-orc/balrog occupation... I developed a kinship with Gimli.


There is a junction halfway through the cave with imaginary signs: "Hard --->" and "<--- Easy". Of course we took the hard route, we never doing anything half-assed. We had to hold on to ropes, crawl thru guano and limbo under stalactites... we were shrieking the whole way through, I think our guides developed ear infections. We had to wade in really cold (and I mean polar bear cold) water, and our guides were so great, they placed our cameras in their bags and held them with such skill, the bags not only never touched water but the guides did it with a cigarette in one hand... hahaha. You gotta give the six of us, who don't work out at all, credit for accomplishing such a feat. Although I must say, the notion of working out did, for a moment, appeal to me when a couple of 10 year olds overtook me on the hike up.
This is us on a pitstop to the cave entry. It never occurred to me until I was hiking and gasping for air that every step (or misstep) I take toward the heart of the cave is every step I have to make out of it... uphill! But aching muscles aside, it was worth the trip.
Guide rates: 1 - 3 persons = 300 pesos; 4 - 5 = 400 pesos; 6 = 600 pesos... I didn't really see the rates for more people, these rates available at the Municipal Hall
The Gates of Moria Sumaging Caves close at 5 pm.


4. Mount Kiltepan
I'm not really good with estimating kilometer long distances, so let's just say Mt. Kiltepan is a tad far from the town center. You could take a leisurely hike to the apex through berry bearing bushes, but if you and uphill walks don't mesh well, like us, you can hire a local jeep at negotiable prices. From the top of Kiltepan the view of the rice terraces is undescribable.


5. Rice Terraces
All together... "Magtanim ay di biro..." I wanna see them during harvest time.


6. Big Falls
Locally called "Bomod-ok". All we saw of the big falls is the top (upper right) Our driver/tourist guide, Dexter, told us it's a 1 hour 45 minute hike downhill (and 3 Jupiter years uphill)... I know, we were such pansies. Then, more than ever did I wish I could move mountains telekinetically.


7. Small Falls
Locally called "Bokkong". Since we didn't see the Big one, we settled for the small one, which is only 15 minutes downhill (why is everything downhill?) It may not be as tall as a skyscraper but we loved it nonetheless.


8. Campo Santo
The Sagada Cemetery. Ferdz blogged about a tradition of burning bonfires instead of candles during All Saints' Day. His post here.


9. Echo Valley
Just a short walk from Campo Santo. It really does echo (especially if you use words that rhyme with "you") More hanging coffins can be seen on the cliffs here.


10. Church of St. Mary the Virgin
The shot is pretty dark... the church is very near the Municipal Hall. Inside, the rose window looks like a miniature of the one in Notre Dame de Paris.


11. The local Caltex


12. The Bilig Cafe
It's located right behind the Municipal Hall. We were really planning to eat at the Shamrock cafe whose spaghetti is raved about in Baguio, but ut sort of relocated here while the cafe is being renovated. Inside Bilig, look up. I've never seen such a wide collection of vintage postcards on a ceiling before. Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain... I love it, my neck just felt stiff afterwards.


13. Souvenir Shops
I got all sorts of souvenirs but this printed shirt above is my fave.

Labels: area 13, travels

We finally got the new improved WiFi service at home. I have a whole new appreciation for the ionosphere and how it allows us to use it as a a wave-bouncing mechanism (yes, that's my technical term) Gawd I missed surfing at this speed. I was living under a rock, literally, when the Taiwan earthquake occured so I never knew about the whole subterranean thingy until i got back to the office, days later. What better way to celebrate the return to the internet speed of sound mind than to upload pictures in Photobucket. Light years reduced to light reading while they upload.



It was midnight and I was stuffing clothes in my supposed Amazing Race backpack. I always pack better under pressure, plus the caffeine from the hot peppermint coffee I had with some friends an hour earlier was still in my system. 6 hours later and no sleep, I was with my fellow spelunkers in an ordinary bus leaving the station for Sagada. (Let me blabber on some more while the pictures load on your browser... I did my best to minimize the number of pics) Sagada is in the Mountain Province and is about 5 and a half hours away from Baguio (approximately 11 hours from Manila) There are no air-conditioned buses to Sagada but with the cool weather, it would just be downright ridiculous not to mention ozone-unfriendly.


That's me on the right clad in my idea of a Sagada tourist outfit and that's Tine on the left, a close friend/ officemate. Notice our matching Sayote colored tops. I felt adamant about posting pictures on the net because of that hilarious forwarded e-mail of a kid whose face was plastered onto this and that. (Don't you get any ideas, I know where you live and if I see my face on a Teletubby, you'll find me knocking on your door with a broad sword)


The first two thirds of the road to Sagada is paved with concrete. It always amazes me how roads are built along mountainsides and how such a feat is accomplished. People with altophobia should opt for the aisle seat, let's just say the sensation of being on the window seat is like being a jumper who glides sideways around the edge of a skyscraper. The last third of the road, somewhere in a low point of the route where the road is side by side with the Chico river, is a bot more arduous. "Rough road" is an understatement. It's like headbanging in a mosh pit without hearing the Sex Pistols. There is also a constant plume of yellowish dust that follows, and at times enters, the bus. I just loved that last third of the ride, it felt like I was riding with Thelma and Louise without the swan dive off the cliff.






The Rock Inn. I highly recommend a stay here when you visit Sagada. It is 2 or 3 kilometers from the Poblacion (town proper) depending on which sign you look at. It is nestled in a valley accessed only by yet another rough road. It is so desolate that when you look out from any of their balconies all you see are the silhoutte of the surrounding trees and the stars. No Globe cellphone signal in these parts, just Smart (which I detest) The rooms smell great, all the surfaces (walls, floor, ceiling) and the furniture in the rooms are made of pine... the genuine smell of pine, not the fake scented tree cut-outs in cars (like the one on the rearview mirror of the Ocean's 11 SWAT van) The picture above is taken from a natural rock formation (hence the name of the inn) An orchard of Sagada oranges on the right.


View from our room, a couple of huts and the Dap-ay where there's a bonfire every night. The first night we sat around the fire as a German, a Filipina and a Swede (I think) talked about politics... we didn't linger too long. The second night we went all kumbaya singing classic early 90's rock songs with an infectious, guitar-strumming pothead. I wasn't able to score a joint. Boo hoo.


The Cafe Bodega. The Rock Inn's cafe. Modern use of indigenous materials. Notice the use of cribs and vegetable containers as lighting fixtures.




One must, must, must... must, must try their fresh Sagada orange juice... Mmmmm... Sagada orange juice (Did I sound Homer enough?) I am salivating just thinking about it. The perfect balance of tang and sweetness, and the best thing is it's 100% organic fresh from the orchard.


Since we're on the topic of food, eat lunch at Masferre Restaurant. The menu isn't especially Sagada (What's a Sprite bottle doing there??) but Masferre's photos lining the walls are worth the trip. He's the first photographer to take pictures of Sagada and his photos ooze of history. Taking pictures of his pictures isn't aloud.

Labels: filipinowledge, travels

Last Friday was International Sayote Day on my beloved plateau, a local holiday! My friends and I went on a sight-seeing roadtrip of Baguio using the tourist route. We planned the whole "in-the-shoes- of-a-non-Baguio-resident" trip last week. We didn't go as far as wearing the turista bonnets... the black (usually) ones with "BAGUIO" crocheted into the design or the ones with a wee sunflower smack dab in the middle of the forehead region.


Doo Bidoo and Scooby Doo

What better way to enjoy Baguio than in an un-airconditioned, freshly pimped, butter-colored Comby?! This is John's ride and we were its rowdy passengers.



You can't help but feel elated when you see a Volkswagen van. Images of psychedelic rainbows, flowers and a peace sign of the hippie lifestyle come to mind (also, remember Fillmore from Cars?) Doo Bidoo! I'm also reminded of the mystery van of Shaggy, Scooby and company. Scooby Dooby Doo! Just good and fun mental images...


House of Flying Sidemirrors

The first destination that day was Asin Hotsprings. (Ok, technically this isn't part of Baguio... but it should be!) This is my second trip only to Asin, the first happened last May. How lame is that? Huwag maging turista sa sariling bayan (Don't become a tourist in your own country)

Asin is about 30 minutes away from Baguio. It is the nearest natural body of water (methinks) to the city. I think it's a general fact that Baguio residents get all agitated around the ocean. Being marine water deprived, on beach outings we're usually the first ones running toward the waves. Asin has hot springs but... I yet have to see one, all I ever see are pools.

Halfway to Asin, our public market kind of noiseness was disrupted by screams and a crash. I didn't have a good vantage point of the speeding jeep on our left but I did have front row tickets to the flying sidemirror of a van to our right. Imagine a two way road being occupied side by side by a maniacal jeep, a yellow Comby and a van with a parking violation... A couple of sidemmirrors were bound to fly.

What happened: The road to Asin sloped down most of the time. We were the ones on the downward path. A van to our right and out of nowhere a jeep speeding toward us. We were the first to cover part of the van, but the apparently blind jeepney driver didn't agree with us. He kept speeding toward us emitting CO gases to our already thin Ozone layer. John had no choice but to veer right (hitting the van's sidemirror) to prevent a semi-head-on collision.

What we did: We stopped for a second to collect our senses and drove away fast like fugitives. First of all, it was the effing jeep's fault. Second, the van was parked on the curb of a highway... and third, We were high on adrenaline.

What we agreed happened: Everything happened as it was, except for the flying sidemirror which we didn't see because of sheer trauma.


Asin (no) Hot Springs and the Pesky Lifeguard with the Picnic Umbrella

Palm Grove Resort did give us a great deal of solace. It wasn't what I expected, I wanted to see actual hot springs, but we're met by pristine chlorinated pools. But after the sidemirror incident, that didn't really matter.


Apparently, our eventful day wasn't over. We (well, just 2 of us) had to deal with a pesky lifeguard. After lunch and several accounts of the flying sidemirror, we were dipping our toes into the pool. It was raining, One of my favorite things... swimming when it's raining. I was only in the pool for five minutes when a lifeguard with a huge rainbow umbrella called my attention. He was asking me to change my top, which was made of cotton. The last time we were in Asin, although in a different resort, you were allowed to wear a cotton top as long as its white. As it turns out, they had stricter rules here.

Sure, I saw the signs that said that but I wanted to swim but didn't bring a nylon (or such) shirt. I gained weight and spandex didn't really flatter my figure. Hence, I was excommunicated from the pools. I sat by the poolside for a short time watching my friends play "Diving for the 25 centavo coin". When it started to get really cold, I had to retreat to our semi-enclosed hut with Dona. Anna met the same fate, but she was more persistent. She did do an outfit change and even tried to ignore-evade the lifeguard... but all in vain. We were both excommunicated.

Bring a nylon (or such) swimwear if you plan to go there, not doing so will make you smoke, drink softdrinks and eat junk food like crazy... not good for your body.

The trip back to Baguio was so fun. I felt like I was in the convertible of Thelma and Louise. We had to pass by the "crime scene" because that was the only route we knew. Paranoia was the general feeling. We'd make up conspiracy theories about all the people in Asin being in cahoots whenever people stared at our ride (Who wouldn't stare at a butter-yellow Comby?!)

Dona: Hala! Dito na yun! (This is where it happened!)
Tine and Ely: Hindi pa! Ala pa yung white na bridge! (No! I didn't see the long white bridge yet!)
Me and Joyce: Tapos na! Nalagpasan na natin! (We passed it already!)
John, intently driving... ignoring us
(More conspiracy stories)
Dona: Halaaaaaa!!!!

(Repeat all 20x)


Pusit, Turon and Sweet Corn

Mines View. The last time I was here, I was in high school acting as a disoriented tour guide for my cousins from Bulacan and Manila. The view changed... the mines aren't as they were, the mountains not as green, no more boys catching coins with baskets on long poles.

It however, still had the yummiest street food ever! Upon entry you feel hungry instantly because of the smell. We had our fill of grilled dried pusit, turon, and sweet corn. What is turon?

Being fed up with the usual camera angle tourists do when they go to Mines View (I know you have one...) I laid my camera down on the gazebo like structure and took our photo as an ant might see it. Our nostrils looked twice as big... but it is unique.


This Used to be My Playground

We still had a lot of places to visit in our itinerary but the night was upon us. We opted to spend the last amount of daylight in Camp John Hay. We had intended to have dinner at the commissary but the Mines View feast was still in our digestive system. Growing up near CJH, I had a lot of memories here. We found ourselves amidst swings and see-saws.

Scout Hill was especially close to my heart. As a kid, I nearly spent every Saturday here... It HAD nearly everything: a jungle gym, swings, see-saws, a skating rink, mini-golf, tennis, volleyball, an arcade, an ice cream parlor, mouth-watering large sized hamburgers, and wide open spaces. That was during the American occupation of CJH.

Filipino politics sure has a way of turning good things to shite. Under Filipino hands, the once free for all CJH, hub of recreation, nature walks and such has become a shitty exclusive club. Now, The tennis court is an unsightly bump car facility, the mini-golf course is brown and tetanus friendly, the volleyball court has been demolsihed to make way for the erection of multi-million dollar duplexes, the skating rink has been demolished to make way for the erection of multi-million dollar duplexes, the baseball field has been removed to make way for the erection of multi-million dollar duplexes.

Commerce over recreation. Money over nature. Pesos over everything else.

This is what's happening with most of Baguio now. Depressing... the prize of urban development. I'd like to say we should act now and save what we have left, that place, that building, this playground... but I know I only half mean it. To say it is one thing, to actually do it is another. So I just whine like everyone else... whine until its too late.



I do love my city... very much. I just don't know how to stop it from self-destructing.

Labels: baguio, boo-freakin-hoo, holidays, travels