[ T - T R A i N ]

The circus comes to town...

We've been hearing so much from the candidates the last few months that I almost forgot that the official campaigning period just started. Right now everything is still a muddle of information--a combination of facts and rumors. I think people these days are really interested about the process. I'm sure that almost everyone will have an opinion. But we all better do our homework first. Do your research. Look for facts. Reading and hearing other people's opinions are important but know what they are based on. Apply a critical eye on everyhing you read and hear. Hopeully, you'll find a candidate (or candidates since we're voting for several posts, both national and local) that you can fully back and support. Should that fail, at least find someone who will create the least damage. That sounds vey cynical but the truth is the perfect candidate does not (yet) exist. In any case, we must all still exercise our right to choose our leaders.

So, let the fun begin!

Reflections on politics

This semester, I am taking a course called "Running for Office and Managing Campaigns." It is being taught by a professional campaign manager/consultant who has been in the "business" for about 29 years. He is, to say the least, a character. I have never talked to him one-on-one but, from the way he delivers his lectures, I guess I could say that his personality suits his chose profession.

Anyway, the first writing assignment for the class was to think about why politics, running for office, or working for a campaign is important to me. Basically, it required some a bit of introspection and self-assessment. It was the easiest paper for me to write--I worked on it two hours before it was due--and I also found it to be one of the most satsfying writing exercises I had to do in a while.

Here are some excerpts. Consider this as a rather late posting commemorating the 23rd anniversary of the People Power/EDSA Revolution (February 25).

August 1983. I was seven years old when I had what I would consider my political awakening. Philippines senator Benigno ‘Ninoy’ Aquino, after three years of exile in the U.S., was gunned down on a tarmac in Manila on his homecoming as he was escorted off his plane. Despite the threats on his life, Aquino still chose to go home in order to face then president Ferdinand Marcos and do whatever it takes to return the country back into democracy. I had no awareness who Aquino was before his assassination but that tragic event sparked something in me and it surely served as the impetus for all the events that led to Marcos’s ouster in 1986. Aquino’s funeral was attended by millions of people. I watched the procession on TV with my family wishing I could be out there on the streets.

That evening, I drew what was probably my first editorial cartoon. There was Marcos turned away from Aquino’s grave and with a shocked look on his face upon hearing Aquino’s declaration from beyond the grave, “I hate Marcos.” Hate. It was a pretty strong word to use. But I remember asking my mom what the opposite of love was. Hate. I thought, “That’s what Ninoy and his family and the people on the streets must be feeling towards Marcos.” I had an opinion and I picked a side. This early experience and highly charged political environment would strongly influence how I viewed politics.

Growing up in the Philippines, I have had my fair share of flawed political leaders. And despite all the good intentions that went into its creation and re-creation (but more like patched up here and there), we still have a very flawed political system. With such a combination, the Filipino people found creative ways to place and remove leaders in office. We have a few coup d’états to our name, the most well known being the People Power Revolution, that unseated a couple of presidents. Needless to say, my generation grew up in a time where there was renewed hope in democracy but a lot of distrust in the system. I developed an ambivalent attitude towards the election process—I was excited to participate and vote in elections, local and national, but was frustrated with the selection of candidates who thought themselves worthy to present themselves as our representatives. [...]

In 2006, I finally was able to talk myself out of my cynicism and decided that if I really wanted to know what government work was like I should learn it from the inside. So, back home in Manila, I applied for a position with the national economic planning and development office. I even took the civil service exam and passed. During one interview, where a panel of five people sat around the table, they asked me question that were supposed to make me think twice about the job. Among them: Have you ever been humiliated by your boss in front of other people? Have you ever had things thrown at you? How willing are you to compromise your principles? All these questions referred to the current president’s work style, to whom their office directly reports to. Although highly qualified, they did not think I would fit in. [...]

Would I ever run for office myself? Should I? I do not see why I should not seriously consider it. If it should come to that, I doubt that ambition would be the main driver but rather because I believe that nobody else could do the job better than I could. I realize that the decision to run for public office is not an easy thing. Although I am not aiming for martyrdom, I always think about what Ninoy said about the possible consequences of his actions: “The Filipino is worth dying for.” It underlines the fact that genuine public service requires putting the interest of the people you serve ahead of your own.

And just like rallying for any cause or issue that I believe in, supporting and campaigning for a candidate that supports the same causes and issues is the next best thing to being up there myself. My good intentions will only go so far by just sitting and observing (and complaining) in the sidelines. So whether I will ever be the candidate or work for a candidate aspiring for public office, if I want to see change, I know I need to act and do my part.

Twenty-five years from Ninoy's death and 23 years from EDSA, where do we find ourselves as a nation of Filipinos? And where do I find myself as a product of those times? We do not need to be martyrs like Ninoy. Grab your tool of choice and look for every opportunity to make a difference.The worst we could do is to just stand aside and do nothing.

June summary

I haven't fallen off the face off the planet. Yet. It had been a very busy month of June, although I say that with every month that had passed where I didn't have a blog entry. But a lot of things did transpire last month, which didn't necessarily mean I couldn't type out a blog entry, my brain just wasn't up to the task (another excuse that I conveniently invoke).

JC came over for a two-week visit on the first half of the month. It took a lot of preparation (and moolah) to make it happen but it was fun and it was all worth it. The first half was a bit tough going but we settled into traveling mode rather quickly. We hit Boracay, Vigan and Davao, and spent the remaining days in Makati--to make it easier to meet with friends--although we did also spend a few nights at my family's house in Paranaque. We were able to hit all of Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao, and the sequence of stops took into consideration jet lag, time to acclimatize not just to the weather but also to the culture, mode of transportation and travel time, people's schedules, etc. The itinerary didn't make a lot of sense to people but I applied T-Train logic to make the vacation enjoyable, smooth, fun, and, most importantly, relaxing for both JC and myself. Maybe another visit is forthcoming? Who knows?

The day after JC left, I had my interview at the U.S. embassy for my student visa. I really will never get used to lining up at the embassy and going through all the rigamarole that comes with getting my passport stamped. (I've been to the U.S. embassies in Harare, Toronto, and Quebec, and Manila is easily the most frustrating and torturous.) I keep saying that it's a ritual of humiliation because they almost make people beg for their visas. I myself don't have horror stories to tell but even if I've kept a pristine record I can never be too sure or assume I am safe from being rejected.

This particular visit wasn't so bad. I was in line at the embassy gates by 6 am for a 7.20 am interview appointment and there were already dozens of people ahead of me. I started chatting with this girl in front of me who also happened to be applying for a student visa. L is lawyer who's going to New York for her graduate studies. Later on, we were joined by JS--only a couple of numbers behind me--on the bench. JS is a travel agent who's going to do his master's in hospitality management in San Francisco. So, even with the ban on all electronic devices--meaning, no cell phones, iPods, or any little gadget the could have entertained you or saved you from boredom--the wait was made more bearable. We exchanged cards (well, I scribbled my contact info on a piece of paper) and waited until we were fingerprinted (electronically, natch) and herded into the interview area. We were all giving each other encouraging words and reminding each other not to get too stressed out. But even I, a visa interview veteran, still got a bit of nerves. Well, it turned out none of us need have worried. We all got what we came for. Three hours later.

After finally getting my visa, it was time to make the other preparations for the trip. First thing I had to do was to book a ticket. And booking a ticket turned out to be rather difficult since it seems a lot of people travel in August. But that's already taken cared of and I will be flying out in the middle of next month. I also finalized my housing in Cambridge. I was able to secure a small studio apartment through the school's housing office. The rent is more than I would really want to pay for an apartment that size but it's very convenient. It's the first time I'm renting a place sight unseen but I'll have to trust my instincts. It was either that or wait until I get there in late August, which is too risky. So I selected a particular unit and, with JC's help, was able to return the lease and the initial payments on time.

And the rest of my time is filled up preparing for my departure. Aside from figuring out what to pack (e.g., Do I bring all nine pairs of shoes I acquired in the ten months I've been here?) I've been running around trying to complete my medical certification, which is required for me to be able to register. I've been to my pediatrician looking for old immunization records (which apparently don't exist since it turns out I wasn't immunized for some stuff, hence the childhood mumps and measles), getting blood tests and looking for vaccination medicines. I've been stabbed with needles so many times these past few weeks I'm afraid I'm going to just start leaking. Good thing I'm not very scared of needles at all. Or dentists. I visited the dentist twice last month and I have one final appointment coming up. I say, bring it on!

So, I have a little more than five weeks left before I leave. I'm still trying to figure out what my schedule is going to be like with the time I have left. I imagine it's not going to be so crazy until the final week or so. So if anybody wants to say goodbye, tell me and maybe we can work something out.

Musical Break

Some of the music from the other night's party. That's my cousin and his family. That's a 9-year old boy playing the bass. It was a fun night.

Sade's "Smooth Operator"

Jobim's "One Note Samba"

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Cakes in a Cup

Last week I made my first batch of cupcakes since coming home. They turned out pretty okay and were given some high praises by everyone who tried it. I made cupcakes when I was in DC so I've had some practice making them but over here I was working with unfamiliar tools and ingredients. The reasons I haven't been cooking here at all are because ingredients aren't always available (although I can find ways to improvise) and I don't have a kitchen here. We, of course, have a kitchen at home but it's not my kitchen. It's not my kitchen, not my kitchen stuff; I don't know where things are and I can't move freely around in it. (Besides, the layout doesn't fit the kind of cooking that I do.) So yeah, I miss cooking and I miss having my own kitchen and all my kitchen stuff. (Right now, my most valued kitchen appliances are scattered all over the place. My white KitchenAid stand mixer, Dulcinea, is in Arlington. My 10-inch chef's knife, Isabel, and paring knife are in Baltimore. My stainless steel measuring cups and spoons are here in Manila. I can't wait for a reunion.) But I'm happy with how the cupcakes turned out despite my initial apprehensions. And it was the first time I had an offset spatula to use to apply frosting. (Not to self: practice frosting.)

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There's a cupcake place that recently opened here in Manila and it's one of the 'in' places at the moment. The shop, Cupcakes by Sonja, and the owner have been featured in numerous writeups and TV spots. Why a humble cupcake would become so popular here, I don't understand. Well-heeled people do usually scramble for the newest food fad. (I won't call it a craze. It's too pricey to be a craze.) At 50 to 70 bucks a pop, it's not cheap. It's also not too expensive considering how much it would cost to make them (not to mention all the overhead cost) but it's certainly a luxury for most people.

The owner, aside from having gone to pastry school, spent a few months at the popular Magnolia Bakery in Manhattan, which was supposed to be the influence and inspiration for her own shop. My cupcake recipe is from Magnolia, from Allysa Torey's cookbook, and I was curious to know what her products were like. Interestingly, I have never tried Magnolia's cupcakes. Neither have I been to Cakelove, which is a popular DC cake shop that's located within walking distance of my old neighborhood. (It was, I think, a mile away, which is walking distance by my standards.) Feedback was that Cakelove's were too sweet. Magnolia's remain as popular as ever.

I bought a box of five cupcakes from Sonja's. I had two vanilla sunshine, and one each of the lemon drop, chocolate surprise, red velvet. They certainly have an elegant looking packaging, and the box's teal color sort of reminds one of Tiffany's.

Sonja's cupcakes were okay. They looked nice though. The frosting were much too sweet. (When I make my buttercream frosting, I don't use as much sugar as the recipe calls for.) The vanilla sunshine, which is your basic cupcake, was denser and drier than what I expected. The same for the chocolate surprise (which my sister liked, by the way), plus I found the chocolate buttercream frosting to be a bit too unrefined. The lemon drop was only a vanilla cupcake with a lemon-flavored frosting; I was expecting some lemon flavor in the cake itself (or did I completely miss that?). What I really enjoyed was the red velvet cupcake. (Very popular in the American south, it contains a very unusual ingredient--vinegar--and is known for its crimson or red-brown tint.) The cupcake itself was cakey, the way it should be, and the tangy cream-cheese frosting complimented it very well.

Well, it looks like cupcakes aren't so humble anymore. The store is in Serendra, a new condo compound (actually part of 12-hectare development) in the Fort Bonifacio area, which has fancy shops scattered all over the place. When I dropped by Cupcakes last Thursday, I found our local version of ladies-who-lunch types and other women of leisure enjoying their coffee and and some dessert. It's a place where you can eat your cupcakes with a fork and a knife. Wait, didn't we used to eat cupcakes just by peeling them and then stuffing them in our mouths? Cupcakes by Sonja, what have you done? But it makes sense if you think about it. Would you inhale and ingest within three seconds something that costs 60 bucks? That's almost 25% of a regular worker's daily minimum wage, am I right? But see, people who buy these cupcakes aren't minimum wage workers. Ah.

There's really nothing really special about cupcakes. They're really not supposed to be special or fancy. They're a very nice, simple treat and the flavor shouldn't be complicated. It's good if you can pack a lot of flavor and zip into a couple of bites of cupcake but it shouldn't be so much that it'll make your eyes dilate. (Remember, we're talking about cupcakes here and not tortes with ganache or tuffle-filled concoctions.) To me, they're small, personal versions of a cake. And I do love cakes. (Chocolate, especially.) I'll just make my own, thank you very much, and eat them with my fingers.

Il Divo-ific?

I thought I was going to spend the evening with a bunch of singing transgendered superheroes and villains but I ended up spending the evening with a quartet of sartorially perfect classical singers who's more boyband than opera. While the original plan for the weekend was to catch a show of Zaza Zaturnnah: Ze Muzikal at the CCP, I ended up going to the Il Divo concert at the PICC instead. It wasn't a bad trade off. The Il Divo thing had been on the calendar since last year anyway and tickets were available for us to use. Initially I wasn't at all excited because I don't really buy into the cross-over opera thing. I'm not a fan of Andrea Bocelli or Charlotte Church, not because of what they sing but how they sing and market themselves. When you turn opera and art songs into pop pieces, it stops being about, well, the song. (Besides, classical singing shouldn't be electronically amplified. Relying on mics in opera is as bad as lip syncing. If amplication required, then it should be done only minimally.) But I was curious about these guys so I thought, why the hell not. Besides, the last time I was at the PICC, it was to also see a quartet of young singers... the Von Trapp Family Singers.

Il Divo is a group put together by Simon Cowell of American Idol. I had seen them in quite a few TV show in the U.S. ever since they first came out with their CD a few years ago. I thought it was a cheesy act, especially since they were mostly singing popular English pop songs and ballads that were translated into Spanish. I didn't get it. No, I didn't mean I didn't get the songs. (Which I didn't, actually. My Spanish still isn't that good.) What I didn't get was why... Why does the world need a group like Il Divo? I found them to be so fake, so manufactured, so... pop. I wasn't not sure who they were supposed to appeal to. Are women (and some men) supposed to go crazy over them? So I went to the concert with a lot of doubts and hesitation. I knew I was going to be in for an evening of Toni Braxton's 'Unbreak My Heart' in Spanish, and more of the same songs.

I have to say, though, Il Divo is actually a good group. I mean those boys know how to sing. (Only one among the four wasn't trained in classical singing.) And the evening wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. (With tickets ranging from PhP5,000 to PhP15,000, or $100 to $300, it better had been good.) I actually enjoyed the show and watching the guys perform. Of course they opened with "Unbreak My Heart," which I am assuming is their biggest 'hit' (to use the term loosely). I settled in and decided to just enjoy it and it turned out to be a wonderful evening. I was planning on discussing the strengths and weaknesses of the group but... Nah! I'll just skip that part. (They're good but there are a lot of stuff they can improve on, especially performance-wise.) I'm not sure how familiar the audience was with the songs. The people that I went with (my mom and a couple of my friends) had not heard of the group prior to the concert but the others were obviously fans because who else would shell that much money if they were only curious? But the audience's response was, in my opinion, rather lukewarm and the boys, I guess sort of sensed this because they didn't really interact with the audience much. They didn't realize how much the audience loved them, though, until the last song and the crowd demanded more songs. A bit too late but the boys came out grinning and looking more relaxed. And when they said they wanted to come back, it almost seemed that they meant it. (I just don't know if the parade of matronly women--the Il Divo Over-50 Fan Club, Manila Chapter, I could only assume--who came up to the edge of the stage to touch them during one of their encore numbers and give them besos had turned them off completely. One lady came prepared and had a gift bag with her.)

However, the whole evening wouldn't have been half as interesting if not for the extraneous details and various personalities seen at the event. It turned out to be a posh event, with Manila's social elite in attendance. Jaime Zobel de Ayala sat behind us on the last row of our section together with a lady whom I assumed to be his wife, a couple of his grandchildren, I guess, and the social columnist Maurice Arcache. And you know it's a social event when you see Tess Prieto-Valdez in the crowd, who was wearing a surprisingly toned down outfit. We even even shared a table with the U.K. ambassador and his wife, who made a very interesting book recommendation, during the pre-concert dinner for special guests. The controversial figure of the evening, though, was none other than the president of this little republic of ours, Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo.  We already knew beforehand that she was coming and we were warned that there might be some adjustments regarding the seating arrangements since we were on the second-row middle. PGMA, of course, would be getting first-row middle, and accommodations had to be made for her security team. PGMA's presence during the concert was much talked about. There were write-ups in the papers (and the subject of text messages, I'm sure) about how she was heckled both coming in and leaving the the venue. Was she heckled? Sure, I guess it was heckling. Quite a few people expressed their opinion with some low murmuring and hisses but the people were rather respectful, nonetheless. It was interesting that Il Divo didn't acknowledge her presence. Some speculate that they didn't know that she was in the audience. Personally, I suspect that they either weren't informed or they were advised not to mention her anymore. Whatever the case might have been, it was better that way.

Oh, and Il Divo? This is them, by the way. If all else fail, they at least have their looks. And their Armani suits.

Looking Back (and a Congratulations)

Aegis 1997 (AdMU’s college yearbook) finally came out near the end of 2005. Nine and a half years ago, someone wrote these words for my writeup (I'll spare you the photo):

“Everything that deceives may be said to enchant,” said Plato. Observing Armand (or Tristan, or Manding), one finds a grave countenance, a silent enigmatic façade that deceives well. Who would think upon first sight that this harmless-looking guy, while inclined towards gentlemanly demeanor much of the time, is capable of coming up not only with side-splitting remarks, but with really agitating gibes as well?... And far from being the shy type, he is a master of hirit, and is willing to argue with anyone on just about anything. This only goes to show how much passion wells up from this person.

A breathing, walking paradox, he is capable of reason but at the same time is terribly sentimental. One moment he’s glued to his laptop, or rallying for an objective mind-set in looking at things, or philosophizing, and the next thing you know, he’s cuddling a teddy bear, or raving over a play he’s doing, or getting all fired up over issues he is involved in.

An art an culture aficionado and an environmentalist; cause-oriented and religious; Armand’s wide range of interests parallel the number of courses he’s shifted in and out of (Mgt-H, Mgt, Eco, Soc Sci). This, in turn, also parallels the magnitude of his virtues: generosity, thoughtfulness and concern (but not to the point of mushiness, which he claims to abhor), patience and responsibility. Above all, he oozes charm as ‘the Blinker,’ batting his eyelashes constantly and suggestively (whether voluntarily or not, we aren’t sure) at unwary and unsuspecting victims. Go ahead and be enchanted.

It’s hard to imagine that someone would use those words to describe me. It's strange to see yourself through somebody else's eyes. (I swear, I didn't exercise any editorial imperative.) Was that me 10 years ago? What would people write about me now? Poy, dear old friend and one-time pseudo-Valentine date, thanks. You're so kind (sort of). True to my nature as a master of hirit, I don't think I was as kind to you in your own writeup.

And congratulations! You’re getting married this weekend! (This Saturday, to be exact.) I still remember reading your letter while I was waiting in a jeep that would take me back to my area in Malipayon. You said you went out on a date with this guy and you weren't really that interested. That guy was W2. And now, you're marrying him! That was seven years ago. Talk about eating your own words.

I'm sorry I'm going to miss your wedding. Me and my batting average—I also missed your 18th birthday (because I had professional obligations—but you knew that, right, so I don't have to get defensive all over again). I can't wait to miss the next big event in your life.

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Thanks to POL and Ate Billie for getting my yearbook. Thanks to POL and BS for each sending me a copy of the writeup.

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Congratulations to another friend, ER, who's getting married today. (I know he doesn't read this blog so pass it along, okay?) Geez, what's with these people?