Passwords.

Imagine a never ending pit where digital trash bins are emptied. There, you'd see gazillion data and images being dumped second after second 24/7. You'd see characters - letters, numbers and oddities - flowing down just like lava cascading down a volcano.

You'd see Passwords from people around the globe hanging by the threshold - others jumping freely while others hold on by the side and by the slopes.

How many passwords have you got? How many have you dumped and recycled? How many have you forgotten, and thus disabled your access to certain emails and accounts?

Personally, I've lost track of some email accounts, membership blogs and a couple of important on- line transactions due to my inability to remember some passwords.

Remember, when you sign up for something, you are routinely asked or assigned a password, and the instigator wants you to give a strong password, a combination of characters that are difficult to detect or hack. So you come up with unforgettable ones that you couldn't remember in your waking hours.

I change passwords for emails and facebook frequently to avoid cyberhackers. So I've trashed some wonderful passwords, along the way.

Dumping passwords and deleting files into cyber garbage or recycle bins are no easy tasks. Oftentimes, you move files into the trash but you end up not emptying it. You keep thinking, I might need them later, or do I really have to remove them?

Passwords sometimes become like personal friends or even lovers ; you don't want or you cannot get rid of them, you simply become too attached to them.

Cyberware. Cyberwar.

I watched Manny Pacquiao's last fight with Margarito at my sister's house via the computer. Now that another Pacquiao bout is coming, I'm thinking I'd like to see it in my house.

Problem: I want to see the fight via big screen. One of the Phases in the subdivision where I live offers free viewing but you've got to live in their area. The SM Cinema doesn't offer the ambiance I wanted ( I need to go the bathroom several times during a boxing bout, I need to stretch my legs and this is not permitted inside the cinema, I want to raid the refrigerator a few times during the match, I want to switch channels in between the fight, etc).

Another problem: The two laptops at home are not big enough to really see the punches being thrown by the boxers. You can't see the sweat nor blood flying from the noses and faces of the adversaries.

So I set on a saga to connect the MacBook to the Sony High Def. Problem: cables.

The MacBook's video connection is the mini display port, and the audio is the earplug.

I went to St. Francis Square near Megamall the other day, and yesterday at the Cyberzone, where I found the right cable at CDR and also at the MacBook store. Cost: the one at CDR (a mini display port-video only- to HDMI - for 1,800 PHP, and 900 PHP for a mini display to VGA). MacBook store offers both video-audio connection to HDMI for 2,800 PHP.

At home, I searched for similar cables sold on-line and found several items for much lower prices.

I can only go for the video connection cable because the residence-MAC Book is a mid-2009 model and doesn't support the audio-video mdp-to-HDMI Kanex cable which is available at the Mac store, Megamall.

Now, I need to get a Toslink and a Toslink adapter for the audio to come in; it's getting complicated.

If I were in TO, the task would have been much simpler as there are many products and sellers to choose from at affordable prices. Here in Manila, the selections are fewer, and the costs, steeper.

Which reminds me, I should have gotten one while I was still in Singapore. Electronics, computers and accessories are way cheaper and more varied over there. Well.

Today I go back to work and figure out the connection. If after all the trouble I end up not seeing the Pacquiao-Mosley match, I'd content myself to watching free old movies on-line in the big screen high def Sony LCD.

I'm salivating for the 3D Sony Bravia, the cost of which is ceiling-high. I miss my 61-inch Samsung in TO which I purposely bought for its 3D capabiity. There, Manny and Mosley would look great with their counter punches - saliva, blood and snout, included.

Fear.

RIGHT, Baguio earthquake, circa 1990.

We went to Quiapo mid-morning yesterday and after a brief visit to the Church, we waded through the street of Villalobos. It was clogged as usual.

But right at the mouth of the street leading to the Church was an unusual build-up, and upon scrutiny, we found the cause of the commotion. Kabayan Noli de Castro was interviewing passers by and devotees of the Black Nazarene for an ABS-CBN show. I heard him ask one woman, "Paano po gagawin ninyo kung magka lindol dito sa Pilipinas?"

I heard the same question posed by Father Mario at a mass in the Megamall Cathedral last Wednesday. According to Father Mar, he heard one government official's reply to this question - YOYO. "You're on your own."

Of course, the local's sudden focus on earthquake has been brought about by the earthquake and tsunami which happened in Japan last March 11. It seems that the Philippines would be totally helpless if an earthquake of a magnitude beyond 7.6 would occur in its shores and land. At least, Quezon City has started inspecting its high-rise buildings to see if any are in danger or in violation of building codes or are already defective.

Mother Nature can heap its anger and wreak havoc in a split second anyplace in the Universe, more particularly in the Philippines because it lies in the so-called "Ring of Fire." Couple of years ago, the country was declared one of the most disaster-prone countries in the world by an international agency.

Remember the 1990 Baguio earthquake? The Mindoro earthquake of 2008?

Which brings me to my point: should we leave and travel back to Canada? Toronto, my hometown, is within a few kilometres of the great Ontario Lake, but in my twenty years' plus living there, I have not experienced an earthquake nor any major disaster.

The closest to an upheaval is a snow storm. A snow storm, though, is manageable. Years ago, we had a major snow storm in Toronto, and the streets were impassable and not enough snow clearing vehicles were available, so that then Mayor Mel Lastman had to borrow from other provinces. Since then, the city of Toronto had been well prepared for any major weather disturbance.

In Japan, the March 11th tsunami brought waves 6 kilometres inland and killed at least, 2000 and 10,000 more went missing; if that scenario unfolds in the Philippines a much higher body count would surely take place.

God forbid.

A Beautiful Flight

Singapore and Malaysian Sojourn

 

Eureka, Merdeka, Tae ka.

EUREKA.
After four days exploring the City of the Lion, we flew from Singapore to Malaysia's capital, Kuala Lumpur. No, we were not the advance party of President Noynoy.






















TOP Merlion, a top attraction at the Sentosa Park in Singapore.

In Singapore, we learned the subway system quickly. We landed at the Changi Airport and our nephew picked us up
and hired an MB Van to haul seven of us to his Apartment somewhere in the northern part of the city called Sembawang.




















Sembawang was a very clean and lovely piece of Singapore. Beneath my nephew's apartment was a food court which sold Singapore and Chinese cuisine, and was open 24/7. On our second day, before exploring Universal Studios at the Resort World, we partook of rice, beef, chicken and noodles in this busy eatery. And one late evening before we headed back to the apartment, we had dinner in this never lonely Chinese "turo turo."

Food prices ranged from 2.50 to 9.00 SGD. Tiger Beer sold in big bottles cost 4.50 SGD. At the Universal Studio,
one regular bottle of Tiger
sold for 9.00 SGD, and at the Chinatown, it cost me 5.00 SGD.

And at the Sembawang MRT station, there was another food court syle restaurant where combo meals fetched for as low as 3 SGD.

While we were there, the Singapore dollar was almost at par with the US dollar, at 1.23.

Across Jei and Dina's 130 plus-square metre Unit is the Sembawang MRT station where we took endless rides. From Sembawang to Universal Studios, we paid each 3.00 SGD. We had to transfer from the Red train to Purple train at Dhobby Gaut, and took a monorail going to ResortWorld, for 2.00 SGD.

RIGHTMOST. Chinatown was two stops away from Harbourfront, is a haven for bargain priced souvenirs.
Like any other tourist, our group, wherever we went, took pictures of ourselves and of scenes, for the benefit of the FaceBook world.

Singaporeans are a disciplined people. We didn't find any chewing gum at the stores.

The MRT stations and trains were immaculately clean and crowded all the time. My companions who are all used to riding cars in Manila had to hustle for seats while the Singaporeans stood firmly on their feet.

On our first day walking, I wore my Islander flip flops with my shorts and tee shirt. On the second day which was billed Shopping Day, I bought a pair of beige suede Aldo sneakers at the Harbourfront Mall. It
was not on schedule but I could not resist the look of that comfortable pair of Aldos. At home, I have two shoe cabinets full of shoes of which I wear only three on a regular basis.

Ms. Universe, TOYZ, bought a pair of Aldo's sunglasses, Singapore t-shirts and three bagfull of souvenirs and give aways. My two sisters, nephew, niece and bro in law were always looking for currency exchangers and ATMs to cover shopping expenses. IPad (32 MG) was a bargain at 600 plus SGD.

At Jei and Dina's, we enjoyed "sinigang na salmon," fried coiled fish, and spicy chicken on our first dinner.
We took over two big air conditioned rooms and one toilet/shower for the duration of our stay.

On our third day which was my birthday, Jei and Dina took us to a Korean restaurant at the Takashimaya for a sumptuous 'shabu shabu" -style dinner.

On our fourth day, we went shopping at Chinatown after mass and lunch. Jei bought us a glass of the Singaporean "halo halo." It was good but nothing compared to our local "halo halo."

Singapore's Chinatown, much like the rest of Singapore, was clean and very organized. There's haggling for prices and the salespeople knew some Tagalog phrases such as "mura, and maganda."

Singapore is home to thousands of OFWs. One time as we struggled with the MRT ticket system, a Pinoy who looked Chinese taught us how to get a ticket.

And in Kuala Lumpur, at the KL Sentral, two Pinays gladly took us to the ticket counter, talked to the clerk and got us headed to our Hotel via two 13-Malaysian Ringgit "teksis" in contrast to a 35-RM per "teksi" ride outside Sentral.

TOP RIGHT. The world-renown Petronas Tower in Kuala Lumpur, featured in the Sean Connery- Catherina Zeta Jones movie, The Entrapment which houses several malls.















RIGHT, A leap at the park across the Petronas Tower.

MERDEKA.
On March 7th, we took a Tiger flight to Kuala Lumpur. As per Jei's instruction, we could take a van to our KL hotel. We soon found out that the van ride would cost 150 RM. A booth nearby was selling AeroBus tickets for 8 RM per passenger and told us we could get a BIG taxi for seven of us at the KL Sentral for 25 RM.

At KL Sentral, we first discovered how "business-minded" Kuala Lumpur drivers were. Outside the station, one cab driver demanded 30 RM for the trip to the hotel. Thus, two cabs would cost 60 RM. When we didn't buy their prices, they got edgy and drove away.

With the help of two Pinays, we settled for two "teksis," for 13 RM each. The trick is, you have to get a cab inside KL Sentral. You pay inside and present the stub to the cab driver.

Getting a "teksi," soon became a joke and a nightmare. On the side of a cab, the government warning is plastered. "Always demand that the driver flag down the metre and ask for a receipt."

"Teksi" drivers were a varied lot. Most charged a flat rate, but some followed the legal way of metred fares.

RIGHT, A structure at the Merdeka Square in Kuala Lumpur.

For example, going home from KL's Chinatown to our hotel, the Cititel Express Hotel, (BELOW) one driver was charging 35 RM. We finally got a "teksi" for 20 RM. Another "teksi" driver was asking for 35 RM to drive us to the Malaysian Immigration at Demaran but we found one for 20 RM. On the way back, the "teksi's" metre was down and only charged us 12 RM.

From walking and shopping, to haggling with "teksi" drivers and getting surprised with too spicy foods, we took a respite and went to the Bintang section of Kuala Lumpur. At Bintang, the main attraction was Massage. You got all types of massage, from Swedish massage to reflexology to fish spa.

One whole block of Bintang housed massage parlours. Masseurs lined up the street outside their parlours like the "tindera sa Quiapo" hawking their wares. Our group chose a Chinese-run massage parlour. It cost 45 RM for 45 minutes of half body massage.

After the refreshing massage, we walked to Chinatown.

TOP RIGHT, A Hotel in the Bintang Walk area
TOP LEFT, A massage parlour in Bintang, KL.

TAE KA.

On our last day in KL, we debated on whether to go on a guided tour to Putrajaya then straight to the airport in the evening for the trip back to Singapore, or to explore more of Kuala Lumpur on our own.

One sister with her family or the majority of the group won and so we went exploring on our own. I suggested Tugu Negara or the National Monument. We took a bus in front of our Hotel, and got down at the Merdeka Square.

The mid-morning sun was quite blazy, but there was breeze to cool us down. Merdeka Square used to be the Colonial Capital of Malaysia.

Merdeka Square (or Dataran Merdeka) is situated in front of the Sultan Abdul Samad Building. It was here the Union Flag was lowered and the Malayan flag hoisted for the first time at midnight on August 31, 1957. Since then, Merdeka Square has been the usual venue for the annual Merdeka Parade (National Day Parade).

Today, the Malaysian flag proudly sways atop the Monument. There are old houses that show Malaysia's old British grandeur. We took snapshots here. Then we saw the Christian cross across the wide Merdeka Square.

"It's St. Mary's Church," I told the group upon remembering reading it on- line. I said, "let's walk on the grass."

Elder sister with her daughter in tow walked ahead of us, fully covered with umbrellas and followed the narrow alley towards St. Mary's.

There was a heap of garbage bags and one motor biker was stopped, so we had to walk gingerly upon reaching that section.

Then we heard a shout. Then we saw our sister on the ground. My immediate impression was " was she run over by the motorcycle?"

Then it hit us. Her purse was snatched by the biker. She was knocked to the ground by the force. My next thought, "did she have her family's passports on that bag?"

I headed right for the street to pursue the criminal. But there were other bikers on the street, and our group, four at the tail, was way behind my sister and her daughter. I told them maybe the biker would dump the bag after taking the valuables, so I followed the trail, left then right and checked garbage bins on the side streets.

While doing my inspection, the others went to a tent where there were tourists and Muslims praying. They found two Pinays part of a tour, and tried to get information.

Then we decided to cross over to St. Mary's. We didn't realize it was Ash Wednesday.

The Church guard, upon being told of our sad fate, recounted how many people a day approach their church to tell of similar sob stories. He guided us to the office where a lay person gave us the address of the Philippine Embassy and advised us to head straight there instead of the police. As per police and "teksi" drivers' count, about twenty purse snatching take place everyday in the streets of KL, or at the Merdeka Square alone.

These snatchers and criminals are the shit of the streets. Mga Tae.

The Philippine Embassy instructed us what to do: First, have passport pictures taken at the Petronas (KLCC) Mall, next to Balais Police to report the mugging incident, and lastly, back to the Embassy for a temporary permit to exit Malaysia.

We went to the Balais Police and filed a report. It was the first thing that should have been done.

It was twelve thirty in the afternoon when the mugging took place. By the time we left the Embassy it was four thirty-ish. There was a humongous traffic by KL standard, going to the Malaysian Immigration.

We were all praying inside the cab. As the cab pulled over, the driver directed us towards the Immigration Building. it was four fifty in the afternoon.

We took the escalator to the second floor and the clerk when told of our dilemma told us to come back the next day. We protested and told him we had a flight back to Singapore late that evening. He instructed us to go first to fourth floor and if that was closed to head up to sixth floor.

At the sixth floor, nobody talked to us even if there were Immigration people eyeing us. A lovely Muslim Immigration officer finished with another customer approached us and my sister told her story. I volunteered and showed my sister's bruises on her left arm. The Immigration officer uttered, "I'm sorry," and proceeded to help my sister.

It was past five and the Immigration Boss, a Chinese-Malaysian came to the desk and had a chat with us. He was a friendly government employee who showed interest and gave us respect. He even spoke few Tagalog words, and assuaged our fear that my sister would have a hard time getting back to Singapore and onto Manila.

The Immigration Office in Singapore interviewed my sister thoroughly but assured us that she would be granted entry, and it was all protocol.

At the Malaysian and Singapore airports, we had late dinner and early breakfast.

Our flight back to Manila was at 6:30 in the morning. Everything fell into place.

SWERTE KA.
We were lucky we made it to the Malaysian Immigration Office on time and that the Officers there helped us. We were lucky that the Philippine Embassy staff extended its help when it was already past embassy office hours.

We were lucky we found bargains in both Singapore and Malaysia, designer clothes, cosmetics and electronics.

We were lucky that family, Jei and Dina and Gab and Michael welcomed us into their home.

INGAT KA.
Advise to Pinoy travellers. Wherever you travel, be always on guard and take care of your belongings and valuables. Tourists are easy prey - criminals know that tourists travel with money and electronics. And if ever you get into a similar situation, always seek the police and file a report, then head to a Philippine Consulate or Embassy.

Always have a photocopy of your passport and other IDs with you, it is easier to establish and prove your identity. Call your bank in Manila right away to lock your ATM so withdrawals on your account could not be made. Remember, criminals have a way of hacking your PIN. Lastly, always have another wallet tucked somewhere in your body that has some cold cash, because if you're travelling alone, you cannot rely on someone to give you spare change.

Wanna Dance?

When I was growing up in Sta. Ana, I heard old folks talk about the Sta. Ana Cabaret.

During the American occupation, Sta. Ana Cabaret used to be THE place where generals and politicos whiled the night away. Then the Japs came and the cabaret became a Japanese garrison.

After WWII, the cabaret operated again, but this time, it slowly became a sleazy joint. It was dubbed "kabaret," where bellas came from far flung provinces and the patrons ranged from the moneyed class to the lower ranks, even jeepney drivers trekked there on weekends.

Gone were the uniformed men and scholars.

Finally, Typhoon Yoling tore away the place in 1970. And during the Marcos era, Madame Imelda built a Bliss Housing at the site of the cabaret.

Such a waste! This grand old place could have been preserved.

These days, if one wants to go dancing (the elegant dances such as rumba, tango, cha cha, waltz, etc), one has few options to consider. At Conway in Shangri La, the serious dancers have to settle in between the sets of the band to dance Manila swing, rumba and the other steps. Bykes, the other place where ballroom dancing used to be alive, and Club Filipino, I think, have become ghost towns as far as dancing is concerned.

In Toronto, when one wants to go dancing, there are quite a few but very elegant places to unwind and show what one has learned from the dance classes. And the people who go there are mostly dressed to the nines.

I miss dancing and dressing for the dance.