Satan Has A Taxi Company

I had the distinct (dis)pleasure of being driven around by one in the employ of The Nasty One the other day.  In hindsight, I realize now my own mortality could have easily been compromised, and it's only now that I can look back at it with humor (with a little chill still coursing through my lumbar spine.)

Can I get out of this ride...now?

(Courtesy of gotagotaxi.com)

With the excitement of moving into our new place (which explains why I haven't been blogging for quite some time, owing to precoccupation with moving concerns) comes the pain of the logistical nightmares of cutting up telephone and cable accounts, cleaning up our old digs, and settling of unfinished business. Let's face it: Moving is a pain in the ass.

Coupled with the fact that I just suffered a nasty sprain over the weekend when we started our moving out process (which gave rise to other conditions) and I was pumped and primed for a blowout soon enough. Luckily, the taxi driver from a fiery place gave me the release I needed.

I was scheduled to meet Sky Cable technicians in our old place to supervise their disconnection of our cable line, so I tried to flag a cab from our new place. Seeing my "invalid" status (I had a noticeable limp), the security guard stationed in our entrance assisted me and brought forth what I would later call the chariot of death.

As I got in the cab, I realized that I had whole thousand bills only and so I told the driver to take me to our old place: "Manong, paki derecho lang sa Yakal Street, may ATM diyan, wiwithdraw ako, buo kasi pera ko, para mabayaran kita."

Driving Demon squints and strains his eyes forward, and seeing a line of cars further ahead, he turns to me (at 9 in the morning) and goes: "Ano ka, hilo?!? Nakita mo ba ang trapik banda roon? Eh, diba sa Dela Rosa naman ang punta mo?!? Kakaliwa na ako dito!"

I was speechless - and it's something that doesn't happen very often. I asked nicely, the detour was so I could pay him without a mad dash for panukli, and having lived in Makati a good number of years, the "trapik" he was so aghast over was nothing, really. I started pulling out all the loose change I could find - actually more coins than loose bills - to pay for the ride.

As I felt the throbbing pain in my foot, I decided to concentrate all my energies into (1) not saying a word and (2) focus on not screaming in pain. Which, of course, was his cue to make himself a target for my barely contained indignation.

"O...san na ba tayo dadaan? Pwede na ba dito? Pwede ba sa kabila?"

I turned into a camel whose back was just broken by an idiotic blowhard. I looked at him and said, "akala ko ba alam mo ang daan? Eh, diba ayaw mo nga dumaan sa gusto ko, kumaliwa ka na lang bigla, tapos ngayon, tatanong ka sa akin kung san dadaan?!?"

DD: "Teka..teka...bakit ba bigla ka nalang magagalit sakin, HA?!?"

Me: "Nakuha mo pang itanong kung bakit?!? Sinabi ko sa iyo na kailangan ko dumaan sa ATM para sa bayad mo, ayaw mo gawin, kesyo alam mo kung saan ka dadaan, tapos di mo pa alam...tapos tatanungin mo ako bakit ako magagalit?"

DD: "Hooooooy! Ano ka, sinuswerte?!? Ano kala mo sa akin, i-SLAVE mo?!? Ang trabaho ko, taxi drayber! Dadalhin kita sa kung saan ka papunta, pero di ako alipin! Hindi yung uutusan mo ako mag antay sa iyo habang may ginagawa kang iba! Hilo ka ba?!? Aba, kailangan mo magising!"

At that point, I was truly amazed that he had the temerity to even defend his obnoxiousness, that I was oblivious to the fact that he had driven all the way to Dela Rosa Street; unfortunately, it was at the intersection way past our old condo, and because it was a one way street, we had to go the very long way just to get to where I wanted.

Me: "Kita mo na, mapapalayo pa tayo nito, eh! Kung sinundan mo ang sinabi ko, dederecho lang sa isang loop ang daan natin, hindi kung katakot takot na intersection and kailangan pa natin daanan at iikot pa tayo ng malayo!"

DD: "Dinala naman kita sa Dela Rosa, ah!"

We were so engrossed in our bickering that he stopped the car completely, obstructing the traffic flow even more. A traffic cop approached us to flag the cab, and I could hear the cop from outside: "Kanina pa kita pinapa-go! Obstruction ka na niyan!"

The imp proceeds to bring the cab to the curb, he gets down and begins his litanya to the cop: "Eto kasing pasahero na to, eh! Di naman pala alam kung saan papunta! Ayan tuloy, nagtalo kami sa gitna ng daan!"

Adrenalin must have pumped through me like a gush of waterfalls because I suddenly felt free from my foot pain and got out of the car to confront the lying servant of the Dark Overlord. "Ang kapal mo rin, ano! Ako pa ngayon ang sasabihin mong dahilan kung bakit ka nahuli! Sinungaling ka, ah! Kung sinunod mo lang ang sinabi kong daan, eh di naandun na tayo sa pupuntahan ko! Nagmamagaling ka diyan, wala ka naman palang binatbat!"

The cop proceeds to question us separately: he directs me to wait in the car while he interrogates the cab driver outside. After he gets both our sides, I could hear him reprimanding the devil incarnate: "...eh dun naman pala sa Yakal ka niya pinapapunta para magwithdraw ng pambayad sa yo, bakit sa iba ka dumaan? Wala ngang barya yung tao, eh! At bilang drayber, hindi ka pwede makipagtalo sa pupuntahan ng pasahero mo..."

So, how does this story end?

The cop issues him a ticket, the incubus fidgets all the way - the loooong way - driving me to my old place, refusing to look at his rear view mirror, although I made sure my ultimately satisfied smirk was visible even from outer space.

When Art met up with me for lunch, he then chastised me for locking horns with someone who was born with his own gleaming pair: "Good thing he didn't hurt you, you know how our public drivers are, walang kinakatakutan, they always have some weapon like a balisong with them."

Something to remember, worth PhP 78.50 (my cab fare).

I can't decide if the lesson is cheap or expensive.

Happily Blu In Cebu

It is such a refreshing feeling to have your expectations exceeded in a plethora of ways, seeing as many things, as of late, tend to swing toward the other end of the spectrum - horribly disappointed - and I'm glad the former was what happened when we checked in the Radisson Blu.

Ironically, it's the "small stuff" that leaves an impression.

I knew next to nothing about the hotel before Art and I arrived here, except the knowledge that it is part of a hotel chain worldwide. (I count that as a good thing because I have no preconceived notions or expectations.) When you enter the lobby, the sheer size can overwhelm even those who think they've "seen it all".

A welcome change from cluttered reception areas.

Even in reviews by foreigners in travel sites, part of their "have-to-mention" parts have to do with the enormity of space in the lobby, even by their standards/what they're used to. We spent the evening listening to live music at the lobby, feeling so much at ease with the spacious surroundings that after awhile, it seemed natural to just run back up to our room and take a much needed respite.

We were booked into a Superior Room but we were (luckily) upgraded into a Premier Room (and I was made aware that this was different from their Premier Suite). They have the label down pat, because it really was an experience that can be described as "premiere". I would gauge the room to be around 80 square meters, what with the different areas that were encompassed by one room.

We entered through a mirrored hallway that led into the living room.

You can be lazy here and stop apologizing for it.

The hues of the furniture and the general theme were agreeable to both of us, because we aren't fans of wild, crazy color schemes, and when you get to a hotel, the mindset is generally one of rest and relaxation. The general feel of this area will get you into shut-eye mode.

*Sigh* If you must work, here's the office area.

Right across the "living room" was the workspace, where there was a ready ethernet connection, and at this point, I need to applaud the fact that they had free in-room wifi. (Which was quite strong.) So whether you love your wires or value mobility, you can stay connected at Radisson Blu. Note to other hotels: Stop charging for wi-fi service. It will get you more customers if you make it complimentary, guaranteed.

Spoiled for choice in this area.

The "office area" leads into the door of the "master bedroom": there is a small hallway where the closet and cabinets are, luggage space, in-room safe before it opens up into the sleeping area and the bathroom.

Do you prefer a stable showerhead, one you can detach, or soak in a tub? All three choices are available for you. The same color theme - simple but rich hues - continue throughout the bathroom. The toilet is situated a little further (as if to keep the possible olfactory delights, uh, contained) in the farthest corner. One minus is the lack of a bidet, but which is no problem for us, because Art cannot travel anywhere without his beloved tabo.

I should make special mention of one fact that was much appreciated: there are two toilets in the Premier Room. I don't know if this is standard as well for the other choices, but it was such a boon to have this convenience.

The pillows - particularly the large one - were so soft, I felt my head was drowning the first time I laid on it. They thoughtfully placed electrical outlets by the side of the bed - both sides - with the light controls as well. (With the plethora of mobile gadgets these days, it was such a pleasure to not have to ask "why did they place the outlet behind the refrigerator?!?" just to charge any appliances.) One side had an iPod dock, as well as a digital clock. The flatscreen TV ensured maximum laziness, just in case the comfortable bed still doesn't do the trick.

After we checked out our room, we decided to do a tour of the other amenities. They had an asymmetrical swimming pool (with little bridges over the "smaller areas"), with a lifeguard on duty as well as an attendant to hand out towels to guests. We also saw a rather large fitness center that would make "professional" gyms bow their heads in shame. Art wanted to check out the spa services, and we were pleasantly surprised to learn that they had an in-house spa, although we were thrown by the prices (some of which were double the rates of the most expensive spas in Manila). Needless to say, to achieve peace of mind, we decided to forego any spa service.

Strolling the grounds at night is a cinch with the lighted paths.

This way, please.

One of the biggest conveniences the hotel offers is that it is next door to SM Cebu. I know my environmentally-minded friends will not approve of this as a plus, but for travelers, it is a practical godsend to have such a big "convenience store" right beside the hotel: in fact, there is a shaded walkway from the hotel to the mall for easy access of guests.

A hint of (delectable) things to come.

And for your dining needs, the in-house restaurant, Feria, does a marvelous job of keeping you satisfied. We had such a great experience (we took dinner and breakfast there) that I decided that it deserved a post all on its own.

(See: http://theguywithablog.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-joy-of-feria.html)

The amenities, facilities, dining experience and service all came together to provide an unmistakably satisfying stay. It rates as the best hotel experience in the country for me as of this point in time, which surprised even me. (I've made no secret in one of my previous posts which hotel used to occupy that position. But at half its' price, this is such an unbeatable way to recharge, away from the craziness of Manila.)

We were anything but blue in our stay at the Radisson Blu in Cebu. On the contrary, it managed to give us back much needed smiles borne out of a superb hotel experience.

We will be back.

Afternoon At The Museum

Having seen the announcement at Facebook (social media saves the day), Art and I made sure to block off a date when we would go to the National Museum. We have never set foot in it - if I have as a student, that memory has certainly been banished from memory - and it dawned on both of us that while we actively try to see the museums of other countries when we travel, we have never done it here.

A waived entrance fee means you have no reason not to go.

Our first concern was parking, since Manila is a city notoriously known for having cramped streets and, for motorists, a scarcity of places to park. We were (surprisingly) allowed to park right in front of the Museum, for free.

The facade of the Museum reminded me of Palma Hall in UP Diliman, or any other building (most, anyway) in UP that was facing the Sunken Garden, which had a grand, old feel: wide columns, high ceiling, stairs that seem to lead you to even more grandeur. Thankfully, most parts of the Museum had a cooling system, as it was sweltering that day. When you enter, leave your bags at the counter at the right, and also sign up to log in as a guest for the day. You can only bring in your wallet, cellular phone and camera; everything else must be left at the baggage counter.

The security personnel (who also acts as an information booth of sorts) tells us that the Museum consists of three buildings: the National Art Museum, the Museum of the Filipino People, and the Planetarium (which I remember clearly as being part of our field trip in elementary school, so I guess I did go to the National Museum when I was younger).

With the visual arts, I have to confess that words do not do them justice. I will let the art works speak by themselves. Our camera battery gave way in the midst of our walking tour so the pictures here are in no way representative of the totality of the collection we have.

Owing to the lack of camera battery power, we could only take pictures until this exhibit. Our feet hurt only when we stopped to think about the time - it's easy to get lost in this world (in a good way), especially when you read the descriptions of why a painting came into existence, or the story behind the cannon found in the middle of the room.

You can (obviously) take pictures, with the proviso that no flash photography is allowed - which explains why most of these shots seem like they were taken in the dark, literally. One quibble we had was that there seemed to be no "guide" - e.g. a suggestion where to start your museum tour. I suppose some people find that best - they can go to any exhibit at any time they please - but for first timers, it would be helpful to give some kind of structure or flow as to how to begin this journey.

We thoroughly enjoyed this chance to revisit periods past, and some parts explained our very present. I don't need to quote Santayana here, in order for anyone to see the value in studying our past. One hopes that, as a city that seems to disregard old edifices and landmarks, we can rally our officials to preserve our heritage and works of art.

The museum is not charging anything this month - let's repeat that, it's free admission the whole month of October 2012. Go, soak in our culture, and let it revive in you a wonder for our own heritage.

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Bonus question: Can you guess which of the pictures above is a representation of Tandang Sora?

Using Guilt As A Weapon

(Or how you become a topic for a blogpost.)

One finger out, four fingers back at you.

(Courtesy of neillneill.com)

After my breakfast in Greenbelt, I decided to take the less frantic route back to work (read: through the mall, and not the pedestrian walkways) since the mall would be open by the time I finished my meal.

As expected, there was a "sleepy" feel walking through Greenbelt, as shops were just beginning to open. As I got closer to the escalator, I noticed that some people were frozen in their spots. (About less than half of the people in my range of view.) Everyone else was either strolling through or getting to their shops for work.

Curious as to why some people were rooted where they are, I became cognizant that something was blaring through the mall speakers: a prayer that was asking for blessings for the day's shoppers, and the mall workers. Since there is a Catholic chapel in the midst of Greenbelt, I concluded that this was a Catholic prayer. I proceeded on my way to the escalator as originally planned.

Fortunately for my blog, I had to pass a group of "rooted" middle-aged ladies. Their heads were supposedly bowed down, but they would look furtively from side to side to see what everyone else was doing. In my mind, I described them as not really being that deep in prayer if they had time to survey their surroundings while going through the motions and appearance of being "prayerful", but that's their life, not mine.

Perfectly content with not minding them, I was not returned with the same courtesy.

The lady standing in the middle started giving me the evil eye, and nudged her companion to her left, shaping her mouth like an aardvark's towards me. And as I was about to step on the escalator, they both lifted their heads to audibly say, "Bastos. Di nagdadasal." (So rude, not praying.)

I smiled back, and said "I'm not Catholic."

As my ride was getting higher, the one on the left tried to have her parting shot: "Dasal parin to. (This is still a prayer.) You should have prayed."

In one fell swoop, she has outlined the problem with organizations like the CBCP (Catholic Bishops Conference of the Philippines) in the current RH Bill debates: they don't care if you're Catholic or not, they have to get their way.

I could hear the prayer still being said over the speakers. And since writers should have the last word, I motioned my finger to my ear, and hollered back:

"You're a Catholic, why aren't you praying?"

That shut them up.

Have You Seen Etiquette?

I haven't seen her lately.

This is the new norm?

(Courtesy of impactlab.net)

1. Taking the escalator upwards, we noticed a family in front of us: two adults and three teenagers. They looked excited to be having a meal, animatedly discussing options for their gustatory adventure. 

Reaching the top landing of the escalator, they decide to hold a family meeting right then and there: should we go left or right, asked the mom. Maybe we should try Japanese, quips the younger daughter.

Of course, we bump straight smack into them because the escalator doesn't stop operating just because you decide the mall is your "personal" space. And for something we couldn't help, both parents look at us and deride us as bastos.

"You decide to stop here because of your cluelessness and we're the ones who are rude? I'm sorry, is it Opposite Day?"

It went right over their heads. I was right: Clueless. And I mean in life.

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2. A public bus driver decides that since he is on EDSA (Epifanio de los Santos Avenue), he can swerve from the rightmost lane where he just picked up passengers, to the leftmost lane because it is the "fast lane", which is precisely the reason why I'm on it, so I don't have to deal with the homicidal driving techniques of those directly in charge of public transportation and the riding public's safety.

I slam the brakes so hard, the screech could rival the wail of an ambulance siren, and I feel the rear part of the car slightly elevate, almost causing me to slam my face into the windshield despite my seatbelt.

And just for fun, the bus driver decides to go right back to the rightmost lane, as his "birthright", because we all owe him the right to pick up passengers whenever and wherever.

If looks could kill, a dozen private car owners/drivers would have been charged with first degree murder.

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3. In my usual coffee shop, there is a long mirror that is accessible only from a seated position. (Or if you're willing to curve your spine to the point of stooping. Or challenging your core after your first Pilates class.)

 A lady dressed in her power suit enters, sits at the table in front of me, decides it's a good time to do her makeup and her hair while everyone is eating. For good measure, she also takes out her appliances (cellphone, tablet) and charges them simultaneously with her extension cord. 

When one of the cafe personnel approaches her (after waiting for 15 minutes to assess her) to tell her that she should at least order something so she can be considered a customer (a nice way of saying hello, you think all this is for free?!?) she has the audacious gumption to reply back, "Hello! I'm a potential customer! So rude! Just because of that, I won't order anything. You can blame yourself!"

We all thought she would leave in a huff. She stayed on charging her appliances, for thirty more minutes, without ordering anything. I guess we can at least say that she's true to her word?

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4. While walking along a narrow sidewalk, a bunch of call center agents (you could tell by the identification cards and the out-of-workplace twang in their accents) were on the sidewalk across the street, all four of them practically occupying the entire width of the walkway because they insisted on walking side by side. I assume it's because they only share a single brain and it only functions in that specific lateral position.

They come across a construction worker (carrying his tools with him) on the same sidewalk but in the opposite direction, walking towards them. There was no room to budge towards the street because the jeepneys in Makati have appropriated it as their personal parking space - any comments, Mayor Junjun Binay? - and are parked front bumper to rear bumper so I thought the best solution was bigayan (giving way) among pedestrians.

Maybe the call center agents have a better solution, which was to disregard anyone else who passes by from the opposite direction, and claim the sidewalk as their own. They proceed to run smack into the construction worker, and they all gasp in American expressions, with the loudest of them going, "Oh my gosh! That is so rude! Hello, we were, like, walking here! Can't you see?!? Are you blind? Couldn't you just, like, move? I mean, like, hello! There's only one of you and four of us, duh! Do you have to take up so much space? Gosh!"

Maybe they were trying to finish their English requirement for examples of irony?

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5. Fil, a friend who has moved to Singapore, relays this occurrence on social media. Apparently, being a resident of a First World country doesn't automatically mean you have manners.

Well known for their efficient public transport system, Fil takes the buses on a daily basis. On one such trip, his bus came to his stop and so he already positioned himself near the bus door so he could exit quickly. When the door opens, a nun is waiting to get on. Seeing Fil by the entrance/exit of a crowded bus, she sarcastically says: "Would you like to move?"

To which Fil replies, "Would you like to wait for the passengers to alight?"

You can also see this on a daily basis here. Just check out the MRT train stations. Watch how incoming passengers push their way in the moment the train doors open, preventing passengers who want to disembark from doing so.

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If you've seen her, tell etiquette she's desperately needed.

Yes, I'm Gloating

How can you not, with a deal this good?

Thanks to Richard (Tales From The Tummy) who alerted me to this promotion from Makati Shangri-La Hotel's Circles.

Yes, it is a Buy One-Get One promotion of their famous buffet offering at Circles. (It's called the Buffet Rush.) It took me more than two hours just to come face to face with one of the cordial officers of the hotel to book our reservation, which is why I'm sharing my experience here, if you plan to catch the last day that they will sell it, tomorrow, September 1, 2012. (Incidentally, also my mom's birthday.)

(1) The line officially opens at 10AM, and it ends 8PM. However, the lady I talked to informed me that at 945AM, there was a queue already. Ehem.

(2) It works like a book-and-buy promotion from the airline companies: You have to choose the date you intend to use the coupon, valid from September 3 until October 27, 2012.

(3) You have to personally line up, at Ballroom A of Makati Shangri-la Hotel, to purchase and reserve this deal. (Unless they change it, but I was assured that they would be at the same place tomorrow.) No buying or reserving by phone. Seats are provided while you wait.

(4) If you come here at 10AM, be prepared to go past the lunch hour. You should take a cue from one lady who brought her lunch with her from a fastfood chain. (One customer didn't even go to work for the first half of the day, we could hear her fielding calls from officemates and her boss, asking where she was.)

(5) If you have a wifi device, bring it. The hotel has free wifi so you can be distracted while you wait. Lengthily.

(6) The reason for the longish wait: Some people do multiple transactions. There was one lady who was buying for 30 people (yes, thirty), but for only one of her intended dates of use; she also wanted to have a romantic date with her husband (second transaction, for two people) and then with her immediate family on Sunday, for around 12 people. Yes, it took that long, that she regaled me, her seatmate in the waiting area, with her plans.

(7) She was number 20 something in the queue, I was 50 something. By the time I was done, it was close to 200.

(8) Choose a date before you enter, and have backup dates, as weekends are generally filled up faster. And if you have cash, you will be served faster over those using cards.

(9) There are four price ranges, depending on the day and time of use.

(10) You can gloat when you're done. It's hard not to, because this is a fantastic deal.

GO. NOW.


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For more information, see: https://www.facebook.com/MakatiShangrila

My Cab Ride With "Selda"

The prospect of taking a cab always makes me wonder if the universe has a target on my back: I always manage to get cab drivers who either play the music too loud, are enamored with what passes as voices of the AM radio commentators, do not know where Ayala Avenue is (when they picked me up in Makati) or something else. There's always something else.

A sign that I'm not too keen of, sometimes.

(Courtesy of actlikeaman.org)

Today was no different.

For today's special, I was treated to a show called "Don't Change That Dial!": the cab driver was listening intently to an ongoing radio advice program, the type where people could send letters and the DJ gives out advice in between playing "related" songs, meaning related to the problem stated by the letter sender.

He was so grossly invested in it that he had to ask me where EDSA was.

As the radio was at full volume (and apparently it sucked out the car's capability to cool the interiors, rendering my taking a cab quite useless in the comfort department) I really had no choice but to tune in to the said program as well.

30 minutes I can't return.

"Selda" describes herself as a prim and proper lady with conservative values, a "dalagang Pilipina" (maiden of the Philippines) if I remember the term correctly, who was about to get hitched to a guy named "Roberto". "Roberto", it turns out, is from the greener side of the fence.

As is "tradition", "Selda's" girlfriends (and one gay guy) throw her a bridal shower, of the naughty variety. They scour a box big enough to cover an entire person, bring the actual gift with a macho dancer inside to her very doorstep and rings her doorbell. She answers and is taken with the largeness of the box, wondering "ano ba naman tong regalo nyo, pwedeng kumasya ang tao sa laki ng kahon". (what's with this gift, a person could fit into this box) Apparently, "Selda" doesn't believe in the literary technique of foreshadowing and decides to spell it out for the deaf listeners of the radio show she is writing to.

Out comes the macho dancer, and immediately he is asked to strip his underwear by everyone but "Selda". As a self described "conservative", she takes great pains to describe how she turns away from the, uhm, spectacle dangling in front of her, with the gay guy commenting "ano ka ba naman, Selda, di ka naman nya igagahasa, tignan mo lang" (what's the matter, "Selda", it's not like he will rape you, just look at it). Expectedly, "Selda" throws a fit, storms out of her own house and refuses to enter until the macho dancer has left.

In case I didn't mention it earlier, the radio program provides a "dramatization" with voice actors, and I was tempted to ask the cab driver "this is comedy, right?" but had to stop myself when I saw how lined his forehead was digesting both the reading of the letter and the acting out by radio. I thought it best not to say anything disparaging until I got out of the cab.

"Selda" then talks to the audience. "Mayroon pa ring mga konserbatibong mga Pilipina, noh. Hindi lahat ay liberated. Ni hindi ko pa nga nakikita ang hubad na katawan ng lalaki. Pero...kung ano man ang nasilip ko sa macho dancer, nagustuhan ko ang nakita ko. Matipuno sya, maganda ang katawan, machong macho. Sino ba naman ang babaeng hindi magugustuhan ang mga katangian na yun sa isang lalaki? Pero dahil konserbatibo ako, kaya ako umalis sa party." (There are still conservative Filipinas. Not all are liberated. I haven't even seen a naked man. But...from what little I did see of the macho dancer, I liked. Well built, nice body, very manly. What woman wouldn't find those qualities attractive? But because I was conservative, I left the party.)

I had to restrain myself from breaking out in laughter, lest the cab driver murder me from where I was seated.

The letter fast forwards to when "Selda" is late in meeting her still-boyfriend "Roberto".  They are talking on the phone, and she promises him that she is doing all she can to meet at the appointed place and time, while he keeps muttering sweet-nothings and asking her to take care of herself.

As soon as she finishes the conversation, the macho dancer materializes in front of her, fully clothed. I guess she also likes his face since she recognizes him right away. They get into small talk, trying to get past the inital embarrassment of how they met. She asks "ano nga ba pangalan mo?" (what's your name, again?) and he says "Alejandro", she remarks "maganda ang pangalan mo, lalaking lalaki, pag nagka-anak ako, gusto ko Alejandro din ang pangalan pag lalaki." (you have a nice name, very manly, when I have a child, I would name him Alejandro if it's a boy.)

This is something you mention on your first "meeting"? Oh, that's right. This isn't.

"Alejandro" asks why she left, and she tells him that she isn't used to "those" kinds of bridal showers. To which he replies, "buti naman, may mga natitirang mga konserbatibong babae pa pala sa mundong ito, kasi sa linya ng trabaho ko, syempre iisa lang ang gusto nilang makita." (that's good, there are still conservative women left in this world, because in my line of work, they only want one thing)

More restraint on my part.

"Alejandro" asks who was she on the phone with, and she tells him it's her boyfriend, who she is late in meeting with. She then segues into "by the way, ano nga pala ang number mo? Para pwede tayo magtext text minsan." (what's your number? So we can communicate by text messaging) He readily gives it to her and as they part ways, they shake hands and he asks, "Friends?" and she replies "oo naman, (of course) friends!"

The background music cues in, and how could anybody be surprised that the DJ decides to play an old song with the lyrics, "torn between two lovers, feeling like a fool....(something, something) breaking all the rules..." "Selda" continues her narration, expounding on how "Alejandro" now calls and text messages her, even writing to each other on Facebook, which progressed into movie watching and dates, "pero walang malisya ha!" (with no malice) which stuns the cab driver because she then poses her dilemna to the DJ and the audience:

"Bakit ganun, eh platonic lang naman kami ni Alejandro? Naguguluhan ako. Mahal ko si Roberto, pero napamahal narin sa akin si Alejandro. Siguro dahil, nung lalo ko siyang nakilala, nalaman ko na pareho kami, galing kami sa mahihirap na pamilya, kumakayod at gusto ng magandang kinabukasan. Hindi tulad ni Roberto, galing sa maykayang pamilya. By the way, may polio pala si Roberto." (Why is it like that, when I have a platonic relationship with Alejandro? I'm confused. I love Roberto, but I've also fallen for Alejandro. Maybe because, when I got to know him more, I learned we are the same, from financially disadvantaged families, working hard, wanting a better future. Unlike Roberto, from a well-off family. By the way, Roberto is polio-stricken.)

Thankfully, my stop came up, before I lost any more of my sanity from hearing "Selda" justify her longing for "Alejandro" all the while brandishing her conservative badge and waving it repeatedly for all to see. Or, in this case, hear.

Calling ABS-CBN and GMA: you may have a hit scriptwriter here for your next telenovela. And "Selda", all I'm asking for is 5% of your gross, as your "discovering" agent.

I'm conservative that way.

Finally, Boon Tong Kee. Here.

Yes, there is a back story to the title of this post.

It can be summed up as: "We went all the way to Singapore and didn't sample Boon Tong Kee's famed poached chicken (Hainanese chicken)!" And we were tired, hungry, searching for hours for BTK using their (highly efficient) public transportation system of buses and trains...and when we finally arrived, and were seated in two large tables (that's how big our party was), we were told: "Sorry, we ran out of Hainanese Chicken!"

Nooooooooo. (No one verbalized this, but you could tell it was what was on our collective minds.)

So, when we scored tickets to the excellent Cirque Du Soleil production, Saltimbanco, at the SM Mall of Asia Arena, I breezily put it out there that maybe we should have dinner before the show, and when I was asked where, I said "there's a Boon Tong Kee here, so that's where we're headed."

It may be just me, but did they design Mall Of Asia to be confusing? There are no directories with clear indications of specific stores. The fact that you could ride tram cars to get to buildings within the complex indicates how big it is area wise, so it's not "fun" when you get directions like "go to the center, turn right, go out and climb the stairs, go to the edge," as they involve literal kilometers, and when you're hungry...well, you can imagine what that does to your mood.

Finding Boon Tong Kee was a challenge. (Hint, hint.) Good thing it was worth the search. And wait, keeping the back story in mind.

As soon as we were ushered in, the lady taking our order wasn't even finished with her spiel and I said, "Hainanese Chicken. Please." Everyone else was looking through the menu but I knew exactly what it is I came here for. Arthur told me "let's get something else as well" so that's how we ended up ordering a tofu dish that was actually excellent.

After our order was taken, we noticed that it was not a very large space (in fact the booth we were at seemed a little cramped). They were showing various cooking demos on the television screen. We waited around 10 minutes for our food to arrive, which was just right in my book.

One could argue that a poached chicken is a poached chicken is a poached chicken, but the delicate aroma and taste of Boon Tong Kee's version of their signature dish lends weight to the claim that they are Singapore's best representative of the dish. (I also found out that their government hands out citations or recognition on an annual basis as to what is the best Chicken Rice version.) Light but flavorful, the aroma pierces through without overwhelming you, leaving both your olfactory and gustatory senses satiated.

The ginger sauce was a bit bland for me, but the others found it good, so that could be a matter of personal taste.

The rice that accompanied the chicken got the most "oohs" because it was thoroughly infused with the broth and could seriously be eaten on its own, even without any viand. It looks a little blah from the outside, which is why it elicited the most unexpected response.

This dish was also very good, tofu mixed with seafood (I saw crabs and squid) and it was definitely a pleasant surprise since I was very single-minded about having the Hainanese Chicken and nothing else. Again, it was light but had quite a kick flavor wise, the seafood complementing the canvas of the tofu. Like everything else on the table, nasimot sya (it was practically licked clean) because even the sauce was enticingly delicious.

I can't compare it with the Singapore version since I haven't had the opportunity to try it there, and I can already here the purists going "it's just not the same" but sampling the Boon Tong Kee chicken here - as well as something else - makes me feel we aren't missing that much from the version of where it originated from.

And I can finally say, I've eaten at Boon Tong Kee. And I like it.


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More information here: https://www.facebook.com/BoonTongKeePH

Live Urban, Go Ashram

Having survived the treacherous effects of the monsoon rains this past week, I decided to make a great day out of a sunny weekend and attended a Vinyasa Yoga class at Urban Ashram Manila, located at Bonifacio Global City. I have been meaning to attend a class there since the yoga studio I used to go to was now a "self-practice" center - no one to instruct or guide you - and this seemed the closest as far as distance was concerned.

I read up on what the word ashram meant: a place of solitude, where one (typically) gets advice, often from a sage, on various topics. So the juxtaposition of the two words (Urban Ashram) may seem like an oxymoron - how does one "get away from it all" right smack in the middle of one of the "hip" places where restaurants and entertainment centers are sprouting up quite fast?

To begin with, the building where the studio is located is still facing empty lots, which signalled a great start for me. I know development may take over, and buildings tall - and taller - may soon surround it, but anyone who's been to the area will attest that BGC does have an "open space" feel, as opposed to, say, Makati.

Entering the center was pleasant for my olfactory nerves, as the scent of eucalyptus and one other smell gently wafted through. There was a spacious waiting area, and I was attended to and able to get more information about the class from a personable "welcoming committee".

I waited for a few more minutes and then I was told that the class would be starting. I was delighted to see that equipment was provided: mats, a block and a strap - per person. It was definitely quite a change of "face" from what I usually see in other studios, where they ask you to bring everything with you.

The class proceeded and I must say, I was glad with what I observed: the instructor practiced a multi-level format. That simply means that a person with barely any experience in yoga could do a pose, while an everyday practitioner would be challenged by another option given. As someone who has been teaching group exercise for 14 years, I can say this is a skill that is not very prevalent in this country's fitness professionals, so I really appreciated that.

We grunted, we sweat - I more profusely than everyone else, and the other teacher provided me with a towel to prevent further slippage on my part - and we finally finished the 90 minute class. Nothing can be as rewarding as feeling cleansed, refreshed and renewed after a class where you put in "the work". The combination of the instruction, the facilities, the amenities and the general feel of the place is enough to welcome you back here, over and over again.

With two branches to serve you, you can find your inner calm in the midst of the hustle and bustle.

Namaste.


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All pictures are from here: https://www.facebook.com/urbanashrammanila

For more information, see: http://www.urbanashrammanila.com/