Going Away

Getting away from one's home is always exciting. It's a chance to regenerate one's energy and take one's mind off the daily routine or a matter that's been nagging one's mind.

That's why companies send their employees to professional development seminars, workshops and rich organizations send their top honchos to special R & Rs. Such activities not only serve as relaxation but they power up the mind and body and result in more creative problem solvers.

My trip is a private one. I will hook up with relatives and old friends. I hope it will open my mind to new ideas - as a change in scenery can stir sleeping juices and jumpstart one's creative engine.

It will also be a good time to reflect; when people are in the familiar surrounding of their home, they tend to take for granted the order or disorder of their lives, the beauty or dreariness of their relationships. Sometimes it takes a new place to wake up the discontent or to bring one to realize how lucky he is.

Fly me to the moon. And let me play among the stars. Let me see what spring is like in Jupiter or Mars...

Cuban, Latin Jazz

Got to watch the Luis Mario Ochoa Quintet at the Royal Conservatory last Thursday, April 23rd.

The Conservatory has returned to its spectacular home now called Telus Centre for Performance and Learning, at Bloor West, a stone's throw away from the AGO.

The quintet was fabulous. They played original compositions by Luis Ochoa and by the pianist Hilario Duran.

There was the Cuban music with elements of jazz, Brazilian rumba, samba, there was a Peruvian selection, a Puerto Rican composition and the famous Siboney by Ernesto Lecuona, which was sang that night by Luis Mario Ochoa. There was also a piece entitled Cemento.

It was a good night for dancing, even if it was only done in one's chair.

Week-ender

Within the Filipino community, a "weekender" is often understood as a caregiver or a nanny who has Canadian live-in caregiver status and who spends her weekends away from the employer, usually, either in rented room or with relatives and friends.

Because of such a market's need for weekend homes, some enterprising individuals started to rent out rooms in their houses.

Filipinos who are hospitable most of the time, have been, one time or another, hosts to a weekender. For instance, I personally know of someone who welcomes an assortment of weekenders into her home in Vancouver out of the pure goodness of her heart.

Just recently though, there was news about a Caucasian Canadian couple who had been accused by the municipality where they reside for taking in Filipino weekenders.

According to this couple, who lives outside the metropolis, they did not take any payment from these women; it all started innocently when they befriended one of the nannies, and then, they became acquainted with this woman's other nanny- friends. They offered free use of a spare bedroom in their large house, and even provided a stove so the women could cook their Filipino cuisine.

But when the municipality found about it , the couple was cited for violation of a by-law and were told that the extra stove could be a fire hazard.

Another type of a "weekender" is the "off and on again weekender." Obviously, I just coined this word; it describes not a particular person but the way I feel about certain situations regarding weekends.

Yes, weekend is a big deal, especially long weekends, because it is a respite from the weekly grind; it is also a time for doing boring chores such as laundry and groceries.

I like my weekends to be lazy. I do not like planning it. I just want to wake up late, and let the day unfold. If it's really special, then that's the time that I would plan.

I do not like to do any thinking on weekends; but sometimes weekend can just be it - a time to ponder on one's state of being , one's present or future existence.

I like weekends where there's dancing, when there's nice musical shows to be watched on PBS, when there's long driving to be done, when there's lots of pancakes to be eaten.

Weekend activities change with the seasons. Winter weekends mean staying at home when roads are snowed in; you get to watch movies, then. Or play bowling because it's indoors.

Spring weekend is doing spring cleaning, preparing the lawn for summer and throwing out stuff and stuffing winter clothes. Fall weekends signal football watching.

With weekend spring- cleaning, I like finding old stuff in the house, like old photographs taken when one did not have any beard, or old Time Magazine, and the assortment of garbage one has kept through years of living.

Things I should throw out or start using, but have kept for so long: a sound system with the old phonograph in it, two, with cassette players, one portable purchased in Jersey City and now used by the birds, old diskettes with back up files of who knows what, unused CDs and DVD-Rs, old belts, t-shirts and polo shirts which have gone out of style, packaged-underwear never been opened, old watches, forgotten purchases or gifts, which sometimes surprise me when I find them. Donate them; yes I have donated stuff through the years, but some things I don't want to part with.

But summer weekends are the best. There's always not enough of them. It becomes the shortest season - you just cannot cram all the things and activities you want to do in such a short period of time. With summer weekends, it's like being young again. You discover new avenues, you linger, you stay. You may return or not.

Have a good weekend. Whatever it is you're doing, wherever it is being done. I want my weekend, too.

Poetry - Crematory Of Desire

Fearless trysts in dreams

Pointless breathings of the heart

Alas, wasted out.

Empty vault of mind

Constant stirrings of the soul

Bones, bound in one's arms.

Cries a-crescendo

Buds of loneliness a-burst

Desire, breathes a fire.

Lobster Dinner and Jazz

Last Easter Monday, I prepared lobster for dinner. I call it Lobster Jez.

For vegetarians and people like me, who want to cut down on their red meat consumption, lobster is the substitute for steak.

My lobster recipe is very easy to prepare. It starts with a live lobster.

Fresh and live lobster usually come from the Maritimes, Cape Cod and Newport RI.

Here in Toronto, cold live lobster is easily available at the Chinese shopping area located along Gerrard St., at the Chinatown in Spadina and at most large Chinese supermarkets. Some mainstream supermarts like Loblaws or SuperCentre even sell frozen cooked lobsters.

A large lobster, above, costs around $20 in Toronto, and a small one, retails for $10. Lobsters are abundant during the cold season.

When I cook lobster, I prefer the live ones. To start, I would put the lobster in a large casserole and just run cold water over it. I do this to actually cleanse the crustacean of any dirt or slime which it got from the water source or from the water tank at the grocery. When doing this, do not remove the small rubber bands which have been tied to lobster's claws. You don't want to hurt yourself.

While cleansing the lobster, peel and cut a medium-size ginger into tiny strips. Take two stalks of fresh green onions (leek) and cut into four pieces. Then, put the ginger and green onions into the casserole where you put the lobster. Boil this.

The lobster has a brownish, black color. When it is cooked, it turns reddish. Once the water boils, I leave it on for another five minutes. You don't want to overcook it.

Remove the lobster from the casserole and put on a strainer; cool it down. Once it's cooled, you can cut it into several pieces. The lobster's shell is very hard so I use either a saw knife or the Showtime's sportsman knife.

In cutting the lobster, I cut the leg into two parts; then separate the claws. The body itself, I cut into two pieces; and the tail, again, into two pieces. I prefer to slightly open the claws and the leg parts, by pounding them with a wood mallet or if possible, use a big nut cracker, or the special lobster "claw cracker."

Then peel and cut another fresh ginger, and two stalks of fresh green onions. Also, prepare the following : 1/3 third lemon, several cubed slices of canned pineapple, soysauce, and corn starch for thickening, and lastly, oyster sauce.

Now, you can either use a wok or a large frying pan. Put it on medium heat, add olive oil, and fry the ginger and green onions. Mix in the lobster. Add 1/2 cup of water, or more, depending on your preference.

Squeeze lemon into it, add soy sauce, oyster sauce and keep on mixing (as if frying the whole mixture). Add the pineapple slices. I would put corn starch into water, add little soy sauce, and mix and pour into the lobster mix. Keep on stirring.

For best results, I spoon in the sauce into the insides of the lobster pieces, so the sauce would be fully absorbed. If you like it a little hot, you can put a piece of red chili.

There! You can serve it on a big platter with jasmine rice or plain fried rice. Best to enjoy with a bottle of red wine and some jazz.

Memories of Bicol, Tuba and Banca

LEFT, A PNR Train.

Photo uploaded from Internet by Tramway John Oct. 1, 2006.








The other day, I was reading a blog by a Filipino writer and photos of the province of Albay had been posted there.

Seeing the beautiful photographs posted in that blog sort of jogged my memory into the very first and only trip I ever made to this beauteous province/region of Bicol which is at the southern tip of Luzon.

It was at a time when we just graduated from university and were into our first paying jobs, several years after Martial Law had been declared, on the last years of the 70’s. Four of us, friends, talked about going to Bicol in the morning of Friday, and in the mid-afternoon, were boarded up on an old PNR train at the Paco Station, which blazed the evening darkness at a supposedly sleepy 50 km/hr. I remember going home from work at mid-day and casually telling my mother, “Oh, by the way, I’m leaving for Bicol today.”

It was also a time of lost young loves for some of us, drinking cough syrup for another, but mostly, of ordinary stuff which were by- products of the era’s militancy.

Mostly on strict budgets, and getting to the station just as the train was leaving the yard, we had to content ourselves sitting at the only available seats – at the very last car, where most of the kitchen was. So, we had jiggling plates, clunking glasses, wiggly forks and spoons as musical band for the night and the catering crew as “pusoy” comrades during the 15-hour train ride to Bicol.

But it was my first time to take the train, and was I excited. When the train stopped to pick up passengers along the way, we bought all sorts of kakanins peddled by vendors through the train windows, and we even imagined how Nora Aunor sold drinking water or “baso ng tubig” at those Bicol train stations.

When we got to Legazpi, we transferred to a bus to reach the town (I believe it was in Camarines Norte) where our friend lived. We stayed there for three days, soaking up the Bicol sun, staying at the beach from morning till dusk, and riding the huge waves of the seas. Breakfast, lunch and dinner were on the house – it was Filipino hospitality at its highest peak. We even trekked to a cemetery to curiously check the gravesite of some famous militants who were killed in action.

On the fourth day, we proceeded to the island of Catanduanes. We were young, some of us didn’t even know how to swim, although swimming was a required subject in Diliman – and adventurous enough to board a no-frills, motorized banca for the several hours of sea travel to Catanduanes.

But was it worth it! Even now, I can still recall the magnificence of the seas - its blueness, its clearness, and its richness. We actually saw beneath the waters those rich, colorful corrals, shells, fish and ocean plants which were only seen previously in travelogues. I guess we were traveling on the back- road, so to speak, away from the middle part of the ocean, where the big rigs and yachts were sailing. So that way, we were closer to the small stones and islands that dotted the sea. The scenery and the sea breeze were enough to inspire me to write some corny poems, which I promptly lost once back in Manila.

We stopped at an island-station to drop some passengers and to wait for more. It was a scene straight out of an Ishmael Bernal film – white sand beach, old nipa hut, shirtless little Pinoy boys, and beautiful women – the Bicolanas.

As the banca moored at least several feet away from the shore, we had to wade through water. One girl in our group did not want to wet her denims, and asked to be carried on the shoulder of the bangkero. It’s as though, we were watching Elizabeth Oropesa on screen.

We finally reached Catanduanes and just walked to our final destination –all wet and wild for another adventure. Eating and drinking marked our stay in Catanduanes. Although this took place some twenty plus years ago, I can still remember that we ingested two special treats: the tuba (coconut wine) and a special coconut jam, which we spread on our pan de sal. We were served tuba in most of the houses we went. And we got to drink with young and old people, alike - big women, old toothless men, young men and some pretty Bicol lass.

When it was time to leave, we took the yacht to Albay. In Legazpi, I believe, we rented a jeepney to see the tourist points – including, of course, the famous Mayon Volcano, and a geothermal plant.

Leaving for Manila, we missed the last train. As our Bicolana friend stayed behind in Catanduanes and as we were almost penniless, finding a place to sleep in, became a problem. We struck a conversation with a tricycle boy, and upon hearing our plight, he offered for us to stay the night in his house.

His wife welcomed us, served us dinner of rice and paksiw na isda, gave us pillows and blankets. In the morning, the husband drove us back to the train station. We offered him money but he did not take it. What a lovely couple. They were ordinary, hard working Bicolano folks – the epitome of Filipino “pakikisama” and warmth.

Yes, these memories are still very vivid, even after some twenty-five plus years, all because of the extraordinarily beautiful Bicol and its equally beauteous people.

It'd be ok.

Life stops, at one point. The heart just gives up. You want to find more life, but there's just isn't any left.

You may have just received the pink slip.

You maybe coming out of a relationship.

You maybe grieving for a lost child.
You may have been diagnosed with a terminal illness.

You may have gotten into a horrific accident, and house-bound.

You may have hoped for greener pasture, and it turned into dust.

You may have wanted to laugh -

but a cry, instead, came out of your throat.

You may have lost everything, but the shirt on your back.

You might be in a fork-lift road, and no one gave you a ride.

You may have sought a friendship, but was given a hoot.

You wanted to dance again but the music got stopped.

My friend, take heed -

'cus the wind will blow your way again,

As sure as there is winter, spring breathes life into everything,

As sure as the bird sings in the early morn, your music can play once more,

As sure as the sun's ray enters into your bedroom door, your life can turn around...soon.

Good luck, my friend. Good luck.

Your friend,

Gener

I DON'T GET IT.

I DON'T GET IT. REALLY.

Remember the movie, BIG, which starred Tom Hanks and Elizabeth Perkins? Here's the film's summary taken from IMDB.

" A young boy named Josh Baskin (Hanks) , made a wish one day from an old machine to be big, despite the fact that he does not believe it is going to work. He is very surprised, therefore, to find himself in the next day- big. Now he looks like a 30 year old guy, but he still behaves like a twelve year old boy. He decides to go with his best friend to New York, to find the machine that can fix his wish. In New York he gets a job in a toy company, and develops a relationship. Currently, he must learn to get used to the adult's world he always wanted to be part of. Would he still like to remain an adult? "

In one scene, Josh (Hanks) attends a meeting with the big guys wherein his rival for Perkins, presented a new concept for a toy and Hanks kept raising his hand and kept asking: I DON’T GET IT. I DON’T GET IT.

Have you been in a similar situation? The following situations could have happened to you one time or another. Some of these are make believe, some real, some taken from text sent by friends.

You were having a pleasant autumn afternoon driving and suddenly a cop pulled you out.
COP: License pls
YOU: Why, Officer?
COP : You didn’t make a stop at the stop sign
YOU: I did officer.
COP : It was not a long enough stop.
I DON’T GET IT.

You were seated on a plane and this woman behind you kept on pushing at your headrest.
I DON’T GET IT.

You were having a nice laugh with a spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner:
Partner/spouse: Do you think I am fat?
YOU: No, maybe, the dress/pants makes you look fat.
Parnter/Spouse: So you think I am fat.
I DON’T GET IT.

You wrote a memo to the Exec. Dir.
BOSS: You did not follow protocol.
I DON’T GET IT.

You're in the operating room and the nurse hands your chart. It says you're name is Angelina Jolie, and you know you're not.
I DON'T GET IT.

You send someone a note to say you're interested.
S/he gets offended and mad.
I DON’T GET IT.

Someone in the office sent you an email and the two of you went out.

S/he kept flirting all over place.

I DON'T GET IT.

You parked your car far, far away from the mall, in an almost empty spot.
You came back and another car parked so cosily close to you.
I DON’T GET IT.

Again at the parking lot. You were waiting for a car to get out so you could park.

Another car just zoomed in from the other side and took your spot.
I DON’T GET IT.

The elevator was full. A woman with grocery bags, a baby stroller with the baby on it squeezes inside.
I DON’T GET IT.

Your car was vandalized two times in three months.
I DON’T GET IT.

Your neigbour makes crazy construction noises till snooze-time.
I DON’T GET IT.

You were in church following the rite. Agnus Dei was being sung. Guy at the back was drowning the choir's acapella rendition. Same guy who would say amen so loud that everybody thought someone had a heart attack.

I DON'T GET IT.

You just want to be happy overall, and bad things happen all the time.
I DON’T GET IT.

Private View

Private view (ing) is defined by MS Encarta as " preview of a film or an exhibition that is only open to invited guests."

In today's very global and very public communication arena, men and women, private and public personages and corporations have to contend with the issue of privacy. In hundreds and thousand cases, the floodgates to people's privacy had been forced open.

To avoid costly lawsuits, especially from among the "sue-loving" North Americans, social networking sites try to enforce "rules of the game" and etiquette. This includes verifying whether one has permission to post a picture of another individual; a lot of times, it happens when putting up group pictures, say, of weddings, outings, or big events.

Tons and tons of websites and blogs contain countless photographs which are easily downloadable by any one. Camera cellphones simply snap people and places without the permission of the one being photographed. And then, there's the innocent capturing of tourists into one's camera or video, when you just want to film a landmark. Take the Eiffel Tower - you can't seem to find a view or angle of it without heads and bodies bobbing up and down your camera; or maybe, try to snap a photo inside any Greenbelt, and you'd know what I mean.

Which brings me to my point: Edit.

In one episode of "Everybody Loves Raymond," Ray suggested editing the wedding video of brother Robert and sis-in-law Amy, in order to splice the scene where mother Marie tried to stop the wedding.

Edit. Yes. Books, magazines and films get to be edited before publication and showing.

This same technique should be applied to websites and blogs. The author must be vigilant to preserve the privacy of others. Just recently, for instance, I had to edit a picture which I posted in this blog. It (Statue of the Navigators, Lisbon) prominently showed people in the background - people I did'nt even know; they were "accidental tourists" in my photos. So, right away, I pulled the picture and cropped out the "tourists" fast, lest I be questioned or be held liable for it. The beauty of blogs, you can edit even after you published a post.

In one organization, where I worked a couple of years ago, we even had to ask students and clients for a "release form," before publishing their photos in the website, annual report or the newsletter. Some people won't sign; they just want private viewing of their images.

Bird's- Eye View?

"A bird's-eye view is a view of an object from above, as though the observer were a bird, often used in the making of blueprints, floor plans and maps.

The term can also be used to describe oblique views, drawn from an imagined perspective.

Before manned flight was common, the term "bird's eye" was used to distinguish views drawn from direct observation at high locations (for example a mountain or tower), from those constructed from an imagined (bird's) perspectives.

Bird's eye views as a genre have existed since classical times. The last great flourishing of them was in the mid-to-late 19th century, when bird's eye view prints were popular in the United States and Europe."

ABOVE, the male bird, Jr. Max seems to have a bird's-view of her mate, Baby Neg and the other bird and the stuff below their four-feet tall cage.

Let's Tango!

Now, that we got started with Latin music, let's segue into the Latin dances that've been created out of them. There are many. There's the tango of Argentina, habanera/bolero of Cuba, mariachi of Mexico, samba and bossa nova of Brazil, and of course, the other dances also considered Latin, namely, cha cha, rumba and merengue.

Let's tango, then, for starters.

Tango is the national dance of Argentina, thus the name, Argentine tango. It has been a favorite dance of both professional dancers and of those, well, who just want to dance. Tango is so sensuous; so ethereal, so closely-danced or danced-apart.

The Free Encyclopedia, Wikipedia tells us the following about this dance:

" Argentine tango is a social dance and a musical genre, that originated in Argentina, and moved to Uruguay and to the rest of the world later on. In the US, it is commonly confused with ballroom tango, though this is a later derivation."

It further says, " As most dances have a rational-pattern which can be predicted by the follower, the ballast of previous perceptions about strict rules has to be thrown overboard and replaced by a real communication contact, creating a direct non-verbal dialogue. A tango is a living act in the moment as it happens."

I remember my mother telling us when we were kids, that when they were young girls, they were wary of dancing the tango, lest they got tricked into the famous "tango dip." I did not understand any of those, of course.

The country of tango, Argentina, is immortalized in so many ways. First, by its national dance; second by the famous widow of Juan Domingo Peron, Evita ( Don't cry for me, Argentina); and third, the issue that the country could have sheltered some Nazis who fled Europe after the fall of Hitler's Third Reich.

The dance has also been the subject in many films, such as:

• Adiós Buenos Aires (1938)


• The Tango Bar (1988), starring Raúl Julia


• The Tango Lesson (1997), starring Sally Potter and Pablo Verón, directed by Sally Potter


• Tango (1998), starring Cecilia Narova and Mía Maestro, directed by Carlos Saur


• Assassination Tango (2002), starring Robert Duvall, Luciana Pedraza, Rubén Blades and Kathy Baker, directed by Robert Duvall


• Orquesta Tipica (2005), documentary film about typical orchestra Fernandez Fierro, directed by Nicolas Entel


• 12 Tangos - Adios Buenos Aires (2005), directed by Arne Birkenstock; and


• El Ultimo Bandoneon (2006), directed by Alejandro Saderman

Geographically, Argentina is located in the southern hemisphere, so if you live in North America, the seasons are reversed. If it's winter time in Canada, it would be summer time in Argentina. So, if you're planning to travel in Argentina, the hottest months will be around New Year's and the coldest will be around mid-year.

Of course, as with any endeavor, learning tango or travelling to any country, requires careful planning. One has to find the time and enroll in a class, or for travel, schedule a time off from work, take stock of previous travel/social/business engagements, or even planned health interventions. That's today's living, anyways, multi-tasked.

But anything is doable. Tango. Argentine tango. Possible.

Yes! to Latin Music

Left, the Statue of the Navigators, in Lisbon.


Filipinos have an innate affinity with anything Latin. Perhaps it's because the country had been ruled by the Spaniards for some three hundred years; no matter how we dislike the word "rule", that's what really happened.

Anyways, when the Spaniards made Filipinos change their last names into Spanish names, it started the "Hispanization" of the country, but first, after the Christian religion had been introduced to the natives.

Spain, during the colonization period, occupied at least 21 countries and various colonies. That's why today, Spanish is the official language in 21 countries and spoken in another 44. Only in Spain's former colony of the Philippines is English the official language. Why? My conjecture is that because the U.S. was the one who introduced mass education here, its language became officially adopted by the school system and then by the Philippine government after it gained its independence . The Spaniards did not educate the Filipinos through publicly-funded schools, but only through the parochial school systems, but then, only the rich "ilustrados" like the Rizals, del Pilars, etc. could afford to attend them.

Philippines was "discovered" accidentally by Ferdinand Magellan, a Portuguese, who had been commissioned by King Philip II of Spain. I assume thefore, that Magellan spoke both Portuguese and Spanish.

At the height of its own navigating prowess, the Portuguese conquistadores captured and ruled some 22 countries and territories, Brazil and Macau, among them. Thus, today, the Portuguese language is the seventh widely- spoken language in the world, thanks to the almost 200 million-strong population of Brazil.

Which brings me to my first point: Brazilian music. Latin music.

According to the Free Encyclopedia, " Latin music is a popular art form developed in various Latin American countries, mainly Cuba, and is unique for the type of rhythmic structures it builds upon. It is vocal and instrumental music, originally derived from African religious ceremonies, however viewed today primarily as dance music. Its strongest characteristic, however, is its rhythm, which is highly syncopated (when the various rhythms being played at one time, create counterpoint against each other in exciting cross rhythms). It is traditionally played by native percussion and string instruments, namely the timbales, congas, bongo, guitar, and the tres (nine-string Cuban guitar). Over time, the piano replaced the guitar as the choral instrument, while the bass, woodwinds, trumpets and trombones were added to play melodies and riffs (repetitions of sound). Most Latin music is based on a rhythmic pattern known as the clave. Clave is the basic building block of all Cuban music, and is a 3-2 (occasionally 2-3) rhythmic pattern. Claves are also the name for the two sticks that play this 3-2 (clave) pattern. (when the various rhythms being played at one time, create counterpoint against each other in exciting cross rhythms). "

The Latin music/rhythm has in turn, produced the Latin dances such as habanera/bolero of Cuba, samba and bossa nova of Brazil, tango of Argentina, and mariachi of Mexico.

It is important to point out that what is now known as Latin America is highly influenced by European colonization and the slave trade with Africa. Currently, Latin America, the countries of the Western Hemisphere south of the United States, include the Caribbean Islands, Mexico, Central and South America and contain an amalgamation of cultural influences, namely European, the Moors, Mexican, and other African tribes. And Europe contributed the region's two main languages, Spanish and Portuguese - thus, the Filipinos' connection to loving Latin.

Here in Toronto, the Portuguese-speaking population is roughly about 109,000. So every year, come summer time, the Salsa Festival is being celebrated at the street corner where a lot of the residents are of Portuguese/Brazilian descent: at the St. Clair West area, in the locality where I used to work.

What about the Tagalog language? It is spoken by roughly about 77,000 Filipinos in the Toronto-CMA area, which makes it the 9th language spoken in the area.

Which brings me to the last point: this last week in April, there will be a Latin jazz concert at the Royal Conservatory, the Luis Mario Ochoa Quintet, a Cuban group - here is another great show to watch and hear.

The Music of Vivaldi

Years ago when I was shopping for a music CD for my canaries and budgies, the young salesperson recommended Vivaldi's Four Seasons. Eversince, this Vivaldi music has been a featured listening for the birds in the house.

Antonio Vivaldi was born in Venice on March 4, 1678. A barber's son, his father taught him the violin.

The Four Seasons is a series of four violin concerti and is his best-known work and a highly popular Baroque piece.

" In them Vivaldi represented flowing creeks, singing birds (of different species, each specifically characterized), barking dogs, buzzing mosquitoes, crying shepherds, storms, drunken dancers, silent nights, hunting parties (both from the hunter's and the prey's point of view), frozen landscapes, children ice-skating, and burning fires. Each concerto was associated with a sonnet of Vivaldi's hand, describing the scenes depicted in the music. "

When the violins of the Four Seasons are magically floating in the air, from the balcony, through the living room and into the bedroom, you can almost hear the breathing of the budgies - they are sitting pensively in their cage, while the canaries create the low murmurs - perhaps, sinking the notes into their consciousness, so that long after they've been serenaded by the Baroque virtuoso, they can launch their own rhapsody and harmonious blending of voices, this time to captivate their own pensive owner, who lovingly tends to their needs.

The birds - the bird lover - they co-exist to please each other, to caress each other's wounds or longings.

Let's Just Do It

Keeping one’s hand out of greasy food and sweets is a struggle; maintaining an exercise regimen is even more difficult.

I know that like me, there are a thousand other people out there who abhor sweating it out, but let's face it, we've got to just do it. Doing a workout even for 15 minutes three times a week will go a long way in fighting heart disease and other health disorders.

In doing a lite cardio workout, I find the music of Kenny G very stimulating.

So to put myself into exercise mode, I would play a Kenny G and do the following exercise and dance. Try this one.

To the music of Breathless:

1. The Joy of Life ( 4:19)
Semi-fast music.

You can do : a) Side steps, right and left. Count: 1 – 2- 3 side to side, right and left.
Move hands side to side also.

b) Step 1 – 2- 3 forward, raise right leg and point right arm towards right foot.
RT foot 1 – 2- 3 back; lift L leg up and point left arm towards L foot.

2. Forever in Love (4:58)
Semi-slow.

You can do: Walk with tempo, start with RT foot, 1 – 2- 3, on 3rd count, make a punching movement with your L arm.

Then walk with L foot and punch movement with R arm.

3. In the Rain (4:59)
Walk like the way they do in a marathon. Do it with exaggerated hip and hand movement.

4. Sentimental (6:34)
Girls can do a “Didith Reyes” or a Lap dance movement.
Guys can do some “macho dancing” routines/movement.

You can close your eyes and feel your body sway and hands move
Make large and wide hip sways side to side, or in circular motion, drawing your stomach in and out. (Good for big tummy). Continue moving arms and hands as you do these circular motion.

5. By The Time This Night is Over (4:45)

Free style.

6. End of the Night (5:21)
Males – start with L foot and do 1 – 2 – 3 steps, then go to the R, 1-2-3, then take a rock step.

Females – start with R foot, same as above.

This is the basic SWING step as known in N. America. Manila swing is different.

If you get tired, walk the rest of the music, maintaining the tempo.

7. Alone (5:24)
Great for just walking around the room or house. Take small, measured steps, following the beat and cadence of the saxophone. 1 – 2- 3- 4- 5-6- 7- 8.
Both hands making forward and backward movements.

8. Morning (5:13)
Can be danced to a rumba. Or if not, just flick your L and R feet side to side, pointing and extending your hips with the foot.

9. Even If My Heart Would Break (4:58)
Good to do a “reggae”

10. G-Bop (4:05)

Can be danced to a fast mambo or salsa.
Or a merengue – move to the left side, counting 1 – 2- 3 – 4- 5- 6- 7 – 8; then to the right, (8) or forward and backward (8 steps).

11. Sister Rose (6:13)
Slow.

Start with either L or R. Step R, then close. Step L, then close.
Hands , move with force, to the front then to the side.

Here’s the combination:
R foot - L arm
L foot – R arm

12. A Year Ago (5;15)

Slow. Sway body from side to side. Raise arms and sway with body and bring down to level of your hips. Then move arms side to side as you sway.

13. Homeland (4:32)

Snap fingers while moving hands/arms continuously, front and sideways.

Feet - Do front and backwards steps ( 1 - 2- 3; 1-2- 3)

Or walk around while snapping fingers, and move arms front and hipside.

14. Wedding Song (3:21)

Cool Down. Walk like you're walking down the aisle, slo-mo.

Going Bananas

People are forced to eat right because of their state of health. Take me for instance - five years ago, I could eat anything I wanted; nowadays, eating is pleasing more the heart than the palate.

Of course, people can please both, but it takes careful planning of the menu.

With the present global state of health and sickness (diabetes on the rise, heart attack still the leading cause of death, juvenile obesity becoming rampant) governments have focused on educating their citizens on the merits of healthy eating.

In Ontario, for instance, diabetes has been a problem for many years; today, it is almost an outbreak, more specifically in the impoverished communities. If this were to continue, the Ontario healthcare system could be crippled fast.

The concern for eating right and eating well, has given rise to the popularity of cooking shows. There is Rachel Ray, the Iron Chef, the great Emeril, Martha Stewart, and the countless cooking shows on the cable channels, the Food Channel and the Home and Garden TV (HGTV). In fact today, more and more individuals are taking up cooking as a career and as a hobby. But learning this skill can be costly, both in terms of money and time. Which reminds me: the last time I read, to take up cooking in Manila, one had to shell out at least four hundred grand.

It reminds me of another thing: an uncle we had who was an all-around guy. He was married to my mother’s sister, and we, kids, adored him. He was the sort of man who could sew a pair of pants, build a house, cook a splendid mechado, decorate a halayang ube, take you shopping at the Quinta Market, drink sioktong, and do magic tricks with his giant hands. But our most favorite feature of him: his cooking.

For a couple of years now, my breakfast has been spartan. A bowl of hot oatmeal with slices of apple, a cup of coffee, a peanut butter sandwich and a fruit - banana most of the time.

Plain Insult, No other Name

An accountant- friend once casually related how she had been asked a couple of times whether she was a direct hire. A “direct hire” is someone who has been sponsored by a Canadian employer into working in Canada. Most of the time, a direct hire is a nanny who has worked in and comes “directly” from Hong Kong. Having been asked such a question several times, this friend did not even show a slight tinge of being annoyed. Why? Because like the many nannies the Philippines has sent overseas, this accountant understands fully well that a job is a job is a job. It is a job to be an accountant. It is a job to be a nanny. Both are honest jobs that bring hard-earned money into the table.

In my line of work, I’ve come across countless of Filipinos who immigrated to Canada, either directly from the Philippines or coming from other countries, most notably from the Middle East. I’ve also encountered a lot of “kababayans” who left behind great jobs in Manila, and who sometimes settled for jobs well below the ones they did before. And I’ve also met a lot of nannies that’ve gotten out of being nannies, and those who stayed being nannies.

Having interacted and assisted these decent, hard working folks, I was dismayed, no, enraged by an article written by a British-born Hong Kong journalist, Chip Tao, who spoke of (according to him, “satirized’) the Philippines as a country of servants. “'As a nation of servants, you don't flex your muscles at your master, from where you earn most of your bread and butter,'” he says.

This whole sentence strips the country of its dignity, because when the author used the words "servant" and "master," he did it to draw an analogy of the whole Philippines-China relationship; which infers, the latter as inferior and the former as superior.

But truly, I was more enraged at those who said, firstly, that it was really a satire. And secondly, that the Filipinos should not be shooting the messenger (the journalist) but should really put the blame on the country’s political and business leadership for having allowed the country to wallow in poverty and lack of economic/business muscles/direction/local investment. One well-known writer even wrote that when he goes to Hong Kong and sees the maids congregated in a park, enjoying their day-off, he gets “embarrassed!” by the sight. I sent my comment to him.

Granted, yes, the Philippines was such a promising, young nation some forty or fifty years ago, when Singapore or even Vietnam was tottering on the economic fringes of Southeast Asia. Yes, corruption costs the country millions in lost opportunities – lost investments, lost human resourc es, etc – which then translate into underdevelopment, unemployment, misery, utter poverty. True. But what do the people do, in the meantime, while waiting for the country to be overhauled? In developed countries, unemployed people get welfare assistance as a temporary means until they get a job; not in developing ones.

These folks (the servants, referred to by the Hong Kong journalist) had to work, in the meantime. There’s rent to be paid, children to be fed, kids to be sent to school. It just so happens that the work is located elsewhere.

This is the century of political correctness/fairness; folks who work in the post office no longer find it amusing to be referred to as “going postal” in the crosswords. So, to satirize a country for being a nation of servants is a direct affront – politically incorrect, haughty, ignorant, enraging. Yes, we should get as mad as hell. Those Pinays who staged a rally in Hong Kong, bless their soul; they fought their fight themselves.

And for those Pinoys who found the article satirical and for those who saw another angle instead of directly tackling its demerit , I say, take a hike.

The issue of getting mad or being insulted should not have been questioned at all. It should have been a given.

The journalist has since then offered his apologies. Good.

Lonely Tommy Boy

Tommy Boy, the male budgie, has not been his usual self these days. He seems confused by the ever-changing weather - one day, 13 degrees celsius, another day minus 4. And last Tuesday, it was snowing, but at noon Thursday, the sun was smiling at him.

"Where's my lady?" Tommy Boy seems to be asking.

Visita Iglesia

Left, St. James' Cathedral, Santiago de Compostela
Below, Nuestra Senora del Pilar, Zaragoza

If one is doing the Visita Iglesia, he is expected to visit at least seven churches and up to a maximum of fourteen. What is Visita Iglesia?

Visita Iglesia is another old Lenten tradition in the Philippines. It takes place on the Maundy Thursday of the Semana Santa (Holy Week). As tradition has it, Visita Iglesia commences at sunset and ends in the early hours of Good Friday.

In the area in Mandaluyong where I grew up, there are two churches: the Roman Catholic Church of San Felipe Neri, and the Philippine Independent Church (Aglipayan). These two churches shared somewhat similar religious practises and rituals, and so during the Semana Santa, such similarities gave rise to minor discomfort among the many residents who lived within the two parishes. Here, I am talking about the scheduling of the procession, and no other.

So as not to create a traffic disaster and an issue, which we kids, called "harangan" (cutting of, as in bad driving) the two churches decided to hold Holy Week processions on two different days. One, I think the Catholics, had theirs on a Wednesday and the Aglipays, on a Thursday. But , of course, on Good Friday, both churches held their respective procession on the same evening.

We kids considered these two processions as a competition. It was normal for us to hear murmurs among the crowd - those bystanders - giving their two-cent worth opinion as to which among the two churches had the better "carosas" or statues.

A Lola (grand aunt) of ours had a Santa Veronica in these processions and a maternal grand uncle owned the Magdalena. So a few hours before dusk, the people living in our street would be enthralled by the passing of these two saints, clad in their best colorful outfit and with hair as silky as the moon and as yellow as the sun - riding high on their ornate "carosas" and leaving behind the scent of sampaguita, ylang ylang and champaca.

Once the procession left the church, we scrambled and picked which saint to follow. Me and my siblings always followed Veronica; but sometimes, we trailed also Magdalena, especially if the scent of the "karburo," the chemical which powered the lights of Veronica, started to bother our nostrils.

For us, the Visita Iglesia started after the procession had ended. Next to our church, we would visit the Santa Ana Church, and sometimes, we went as far as the San Miguel Church which is located near the Malacanang Palace.

Sadly, the practise of Visita Iglesia is not observed in North America. Here in Canada, the Maundy Thursday church service is celebrated in the evening, unlike in the Philippines where it takes place in the morning. Thus, our Maundy Thursday service is held at seven and as it is celebrated throughout the whole Christendom, consists of the commemoration of the Lord's Last Supper.

And unlike also in the Philippines, we start our long Easter weekend, not on Holy Wednesday, but on Good Friday. Offices are closed on Good Friday and for most, returning to work is on the following Tuesday.

Silence

A Universe Beckons

Pabasa - A Lenten Ritual in the Philippines

One happy memory of my childhood is the annual Pabasa ng Pasyon. Pabasa, is an oral remembrance/recitation/singing of the passion of Christ and is one of the most unique and valued ways the Filipinos observe Lent. It usually takes place during the Semana Santa (Holy Week). Here in Toronto, Canada, a Pabasa is held by the Filipino Chaplaincy/Mission. The chaplaincy which used to be housed at the Blessed John XXIII church was later transferred to the Our Lady of Assumption Church in Bathurst.

In our extended family, once you learned how to read you immediately became a member of the singing group.

Our Pabasa was hosted by our maternal Grand Aunt, who was fondly called Lola Ebya (Eusebia). It was held for many years in her grandiose house in Santa Ana, in a section of the house resembling a small chapel. It housed life-sized statues and icons of several saints and patrons which included a Santa Veronica, which participated in the yearly processions of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and I believe, the Easter dawn-Salubong.

My Lola’s pabasa was always held on a Holy Monday. It would start in the early evening or mid-afternoon and finish the following day at three in the afternoon. So it meant continuous singing of verses describing the life, suffering and death of Christ. This continuous singing also meant non-stop eating. The singers and participants had to be fed; if not, like the canaries, their voices would weaken.

My Lola’s pabasa was usually attended by relatives, friends and members of the church which we attended. I distinctly remember one singer, an old woman named Aling Gundina, whose voice was opera-sounding and we, kids looked forward to imitating her after the pabasa had ended.

The food for these pabasas consisted of fiesta-like dishes, but what I loved most was the lumpiang sariwa (fresh vegetable roll) with lots of minced garlic and the suman sa lihiya, a native dessert of sweet glutinous rice wrapped in green banana leaves; such food and kakanins prepared out of the large kusina by old ladies who would not let you in.

My mother and two aunts had fairly good pabasa voices. And one uncle in-law could wow the crowd with his Cenon Lagman voice. But we, young ones would be sitting at the back of the room, boldly singing, only as soon as the crowd had thinned, usually in those hours after lunch and early hours of Holy Tuesday.

Back then, the use of microphones and loud speakers was unknown. But with participants honed over the years in the pabasa-style singing, the need for these equipment did not exist. It was usual to have various mini-sections in the big singing group, who would compete in the singing; some would intentionally prolong singing some words and phrases, and some would abruptly switch to another tono (tune) to catch the attention of the large crowd or to simply awaken those who were ready to fall asleep.

At home, my mother would start her own basa ng pasyon as soon as Cuaresma (Lent) commenced on Ash Wednesday, and we all had to participate at various days and times, to enable the family to finish the whole book, by Good Friday.

Today, I am quite sure that my mother is softly singing the Pasyon in the privacy of her room in the Philippines. She no longer goes to the official basahan ng pasyon as her eyesight is no longer as sharp as before, and alas, some apos (grandchildren) have lost touch with a beautiful Philippine Christian tradition.

Dinner with a Trying-Hard Cook

Next week is Holy Week and the Catholic faithful had been admonished to either fast or observe abstinence. I figured, a good dinner before the start of the six-day ritual should be in place.

Here's what I prepared.

Deep fried fish fillet and scrumptious shrimp bathed in tumeric and cummin and fried in olive oil. For carbs, white rice cooked with sprinkles of flax seed oil.

My appetizer is Chinese white fish crackers and Thai peanut sauce as dip. For drinks, I concoted a cocktail out of cantaloupe, Absolut Vodka and Triple Sec.

I cut the cantaloupe into bite-sized pieces, added a little water, and put chunks of ice and blended using the Magic Bullet. The result was a slightly thick drink. I then added a jigger of the Vodka and half a jigger of the Triple Sec, and shaked several times.

For the fish fillet, I used skinless pollock, cut into small pieces and breaded with Knorr Batter Mix and egg, and cooled first before frying. Chinese soy sauce with lime was sawsawan for this.

Tell Me About Yourself

Hopefully, when a job hunter goes for an interview, s/he has prepared for it. Job counsellors and job search workshops advice would-be-employees to put on their best act for this event- clean, conservative suit, professional-looking briefcase, no outrageous hairdo nor jewelry, no chewing gum, no smoking. And remember to talk about yourself - your job accomplishments, to put it more precisely.

The most difficult question in an interview - Tell me about yourself - has sent inexperienced workers to think of it as a trap; while the flamboyant ones think of it as an ego trip, but the educated job seeker knows it as the moment to sell oneself for the job.

The About Me section in a Blog works the same way as in the job interview. It is the section of a blog that should be devoted to tell readers who you are, to gain their trust. If readers know salient points about you, the blogger, they will be drawn more to you and to what you tell them.

When I created this blog, it was intended to jog my mind out of a rut; I was out of a job. I didn't know much about blogging; all I knew was I enjoyed reading news on the Internet and used the Net to research for various purposes. So the About Me section had baffled me. What do I talk about me? Should I post a photo of me? Since my blog is a conundrum of unrelated topics and stories, would people even read it - thus, I postponed telling about myself.

" According to the AOL "Blog Trends Survey," nearly 50% of bloggers say they do it because it serves as self-therapy, and one-third of bloggers who responded say they write frequently about self-help and self-esteem topics. The survey also revealed that when it comes to relieving real-life pressures or dealing with personal issues or tragedies, six times as many respondents prefer to write in their blog or read blogs written by others suffering from similar problems rather than to seek counseling from a professional.

Conversely, only 16% say they blog because they're interested in journalism; as few as 12% say they blog in order to break or stay ahead of the latest news and gossip, and a fractional 8% blog in order to expose political information.

According to the Pew Internet & American Life Project, about 8 million Internet users say they have a created a blog, and according to a Technorati study, the number of blogs in existence doubles about every five months."

For more than nine months, the section About Me didn't say much about me; today I decided to tell about me.

Swing it!

We're twelve days into spring, and my energy has likewise sprung. Yesterday's weather was a comfortable 10 degree-celsius, much like the morning weather in the mountains of Benguet.

Yes, it was a perfect day to catch the Toronto Symphony Orchestra's SWING SWING SWING concert at the Roy Thompson Hall, down at Front and John streets (by King street).

Swing Swing Swing featured Anne Hampton Callaway as vocalist; she, who was once nominated for a Tony for her performance in the Broadway hit Swing.

The Toronto Symphony delighted the audience with, among others, Swing Swing Swing by John Williams, Cole Porter's Begin the Beguine, From this Moment On and Let's Fall in Love, Gershwin's Embraceable You, Duke Ellington's Solitude and R.Rodger's With a Song in my Heart.

It was hard not to snap one's fingers and tap one's foot during the two-hour long concert.
And not far from Roy Thompson Hall, at the Royal Alexandria Theatre, another hit musical, Dirty Dancing was playing, which would have its last run on April 5th.

Aaahh... jazz!