Kintamani

On the way north

Batik workshop

Silver shop

I am happy that local industry thrives with tourism. Nevermind if these become requisite tour stops. It's just unfortunate when you get overcharged.

Kintamani is a popular lunch spot for tourists

In which I discover a fascination for failed HDR shots

Kintamani

A blogger's Bali story

Blogger Chyng Reyes' Bali ordeal is spreading online like wildfire. I think it is worth a read as a cautionary tale to travelers, especially Filipinos. At the same time, let us try to be level-headed about it, or else the racism will only run on both sides. Here is my comment:

As someone who has been to Bali recently, I feel lucky that nothing like this happened to us. Then again, I was with family and probably less suspect.

But let's face it: this is happening because there have been precedents. When we were there, I was so embarrassed to see a Pinay on the front page of the papers--a pregnant Pinay drug mule caught by the Indonesian police.

Let us be thankful that despite the trauma, no drugs were planted and Chyng was able to go free. The story could have ended much worse.

Dear manang

Dear manang*,

When I met you going down the stairs from the office yesterday and said, "Not today, manang", I didn't expect to see you five hours later. I did feel bad not to buy from you, but we all need a change sometimes, don't we?

See, I'm only one of your suki, a regular buyer of the mid-afternoon snacks you bring to the building. After you've sold your turon, waffle, pancit (canton and malabon), sopas, spaghetti, puto, palitaw, lumpia and the countless food items that miraculously fit into your plastic basket, you disappear from sight. If we don't see you by 3pm, we ask around if you have passed by and bear our hunger if we missed you.

Yesterday, M and I went out to buy food elsewhere and did not see you again. So to cross the street and ride the jeep with you at nightfall was quite a surprise. You sat behind the front passenger, quite a way from me, but you paid for my fare even if I was ready to pay mine. I was grateful for the treat. More than that, I was embarrassed. I am not sure how much you make bringing that basket of yours every day to the offices in our area, but I don't think you are able to save so much. I realized how little I give back to those I need it. And I felt ashamed of myself.

The past two days, I've been giving my jeepney fare without expecting the P2 change from my P10. The rationale behind this is that I feel that the jeepney driver, who toils in the heat all day and is directly affected by rising gas prices, needs the money more than I do. There were times when I paid P10 and did not ask for the change back. This goes unnoticed with the Gate 3 jeeps that have various fare rates, but it seems that the Extension jeeps where everyone only pays P8, have honest drivers, so yesterday and the other day I got my change without asking for it. And props go to the fellow passengers who remembered that I gave extra and gave me back the change.

So how can I help people like you who are making an honest living? That is all I really wanted to know.

Your suki

*Manang is a respectful Filipino term for an older woman, often a vendor. Sometimes used disparagingly to describe an old maid.

Royal Bali mornings

view from the terrace

poolside

lobby relief

Ma having Bali coffee

outdoor shower?

Thoughts before the weekend

I am sure that my dream last night came from a Facebook poll. There was a question in our group about restaging our play. In my dream, there was going to be a restaging. The play was to happen that day. I thought I had everything with me until I realized that I was missing two of my props: an orange and a fake moustache. Panic! I didn't have a script, either, and I also realized that I had forgotten my lines. Today, in my waking hours, I figured that I didn't really forget--my alternate and I went through our first scene and the words came back.

It's only been less than four months but it seems like ages since we last had the show. Today I went back to the theater to watch their summer production. It was great to see everyone again and I feel proud that they are owning the stage.

===

In other news, I am creeped out that my niece has been using my photos (the unrecognizable ones) as her profile photos on Facebook. I don't think it's right. To think that she isn't even my contact. I messaged her and asked her to stop it. I could imagine some people act out their fantasies online, but I don't think Facebook is the right venue for it.

[Update] She has since apologized and removed the photos. Her current profile photo: anime characters.

Royal Bali nights

Arriving in Bali in the evening, we heard music as we checked in. Crossing the garden, we saw musicians and dancers entertaining the resort's guests at the dining area. My brother and I attempted to dance Balinese style. It would be the first of three nights where even my dad and brother would sport kalachuchi blossoms behind their ears.

There is a funny story behind this photo. My lips are sealed.

AirAsia

Flew on AirAsia for the first time on our way to Bali via Singapore (there's no direct flight from Manila to Bali). What impressed us is that it didn't feel so much like a low-cost carrier.

Ma appreciated that they still had complimentary water and peanuts, and that you can buy hot meals on board (not just the instant kind). My brother liked the FA uniforms. I liked the black leather seats. If you didn't see the in-house ads on the tray tables and the overhead compartments, you wouldn't think you were on a budget airline.

The in-flight magazine could take a hint from the re-design of Cebu Pacific's Smile. That and the small inconvenience of taking the airport bus are the only downsides. We'd be happy to fly on AirAsia again. Can't wait to see what AirAsia Philippines has to offer when it launches in August.

Louder than a Bomb!

Supercuts!

Because people put effort into editing these. And a couple of guys bothered to put them all in one place

Supercut

[via brandflakesforbreakfast]

Changi Airport

Flying into Singapore is like seeing a dreamscape. A parking lot of hundreds of ships. Tankers and empty cargo freighters of various sizes, all lined up to face the same direction. Further ahead, building rise like white cliffs.

I wish I had photographed it.

Changi Terminal 1 is not too shabby for a 30-year-old airport.

Even from afar, the A380 is imposing

Design as a national priority

Our heads in the clouds

Two vacations in one go. It all started at NAIA Terminal 2.



Cloud formations over either Malaysia or Indonesia



On the Philippine Airlines flight to Singapore


Two plane rides later, on the return flight to Singapore...



I wouldn't want to fly into that cloud



Possibly the kind of cloud formation marked by arrows on your meteorologist's map

Getting started

Coming soon: a series of travel posts of the family's latest trip. Sorting photos now. Will get back to you later.

Postcard from Bali

I haven't uploaded my holiday shots yet. No time. For now, this should do.

Postcard from Bali (Canon 5d MkII) from Stephan Kot on Vimeo.

It's not mine, but it makes me want to get a Canon 5D. And a good video editor.

A message from Lola Charing

My grandmother (father's side) wrote this. Thought I'd share it with you.


For my Children and Grandchildren
February 23, 2011

After graduating from Mapa High School, I took up a two-year course at the Philippine Normal School on Taft Avenue. My tuition fee was only two pesos a year; affordable enough for a poor student.

Every afternoon, with my friend Rosa Lotho, I walked from the Philippine Normal School up to Sta. Ana, where she lived. From Sta. Ana, I crossed the Pasig River in a banca up to Punta Sta. Ana. From Punta, I walked up to my home on Bacood, Sta. Mesa, passing a wooden bridge over San Juan River. So every afternoon, I walked from the Philippine Normal School up to Bacood, crossing two rivers.

I was at the top of the graduating class, so one month after graduation, I was assigned to teach in the Division of City School, Manila. After teaching for one year, I enrolled at the University of Santo Tomas for a Bachelor of Science in Education course. Unfortunately, the Japanese war started in 1941 and all schools were closed. After the war, I taught at Earnshaw Elementary School.

After teaching in the elementary schools for 26 years, I retired. I wanted to finish my B.S.E. After 22 years with 7 children to look after, I went back to school at Arellano University. I took only one subject; College Physics. If I passed, I would continue, if I failed, I would stop. Thank God, I got flat 1.

As usual, I could pay the tuition fee for only two subjects. But one semester, I was fortunate enough to pay for a full load. In that semester, I obtained the highest average in the College of Education. My tuition fee of about 120 pesos was returned to me. Of that amount, I gave 100 pesos to our parish priest, Rev. Fr. Arsenio R. Bautista. I told him how I got the money. That was my only donation for the construction of our Parish Church.

I finished my B.S.E course at the age of 47. I taught in St. Joseph Parochial School in Pandacan for about 3 years, and then I went back to the public schools where I taught mathematics until I retired in 1983. But I continued praying the Rosary with the students of Elpidio Quirino High School before the flag ceremony until Nov. 2002 when I had my first attack of osteoporosis and could not walk.


Lola Charing 91 years old


To the students who cannot afford to go to college now: Do not to lose hope. If like myself, you are determined to finish a college course, you can do so. You will surely find a way and you can get your college degree. Just pray. Have faith in God, who will help you along the way.

Senior Year (2010)

I feel compelled to write about this film because it is nearing the end of its run at Ayala Cinemas (Glorietta and Trinoma). Without giving too much away, I want to make you curious enough to catch it today or tomorrow. [Update: run extended to April 20.]

Jerrold Tarog's Cinemalaya 2009 film Mangatyanan is my favorite Filipino film, which is why I had such high expectations for his latest effort, Senior Year. The film tells the story of fourth year high school students in the last few months before their graduation. At St. Frederick's, a school in Southern Metro Manila, they learn about relationships, deal with each other's differences, think about the future, and get to know themselves more in the process.

There are several characters in the story, but Tarog successfully gives each one a voice despite their number. It is a complex arrangement, and there are some shots that are probably in-jokes, but everything appears to work--a delicate balancing act. The timing can be confusing at first, but in the end, it is logical to assume that the high school scenes are set in 2010. The film's biggest flaw is an aesthetic one: the use of effects that posterize certain shots as the intramurals. This only serves to distract. But if the intention was to look juvenile, then it has served the purpose well. Other than this, everything works well. The young cast has unknowns who appear very sincere and suit their roles well. The older set has familiar names, but they do not steal the show from the real stars of the movie.

For anyone my age, that is, a decade out of high school, Senior Year will remind you of that awkward but fun period of your life. The beginning of the film draws a good deal of laughter. We've all been there before. And the learnings ring true. What seemed so important when you were a teen appear so trivial in hindsight. These what ifs matter little now. But nostalgia has its uses. And if it will give you a good time at the cinema, then that is more than enough.

Last three days!

It's live action, folks.




Three days left to catch Jerrold Tarog's Senior Year at Ayala Cinemas, specifically Glorietta and Trinoma. Will post my thoughts on it later, but all you need to know right now is that I recommend it. Go!

Confessions

Ulrich Schnabel, I want to believe you but I do not want to be idle. Then again, you are no slacker yourself.

Donald Gunn, you charmed me. But transcribing you was nowhere as enjoyable as the interview.

Alan Rickman, you are no hunk. Not after Sense & Sensibility, the Harry Potter series, Love, Actually (where I found you pretty gay even after cheating with your officemate), and Sweeney Todd. But there is something in this Texas music video that actually makes you--dare I say it--hot. Even if you were in your mid-50s at the time.

The song is old, but I only saw it today. I have to call out the person who is responsible for these inappropriate thoughts, one Mia Marci, who described the feeling as what you get when the friend you never thought attractive gets a girlfriend and suddenly he's magnetic. Or something to that effect. I have to agree.

Now excuse me while I have another view of that petrol station tango.

RSC stamps!

I only recognize Judi Dench, Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen, but the starts don't even matter.

To quote Kris Aquino, "Love, love, love..." And yes, I quote her precisely because it's inappropriate.

[via Creative Review]

Join the party

Lisbeth Hawke and company

From what I've seen in Dragon Age 2 so far, it feels much like playing a console game. I prefer its predecessor, but I'll finish it for the story anyway. The concept art also appears simpler. Ah, nit-picking.

32211

Ten artists without a theme. Three exhibits in one gallery.

32211
Galerie Anna, SM Megamall, Mandaluyong City
March 22 to April 3, 2011

Large pieces by Proceso Gelladuga & Thomas Daquioag on the Manila Wall

Thomas Daquioag


Proceso Gelladuga

Works on paper by Mel Cabriana, Obi Mapua & Peter Sutcliffe

Obi Mapua


Obi Mapua


Mel Cabriana


Mel Cabriana


Peter Sutcliffe


Peter Sutcliffe


Peter Sutcliffe

Fata Morgana/Mirage by Deborah Del-Pan, Lita Gelano, Helen Mirasol, Teresita Mapua & Abby Yao

Deborah Del-Pan


Deborah Del-Pan


Deborah Del-Pan & Teresita Mapua


Teresita Mapua


detail


Teresita Mapua & Helen Mirasol


Helen Mirasol


Helen Mirasol


Lita Gelano


Mic test
Listening to myself
Their favorite jeans
24x24 inches, oil on canvas
Abby Yao