Cool Christmas

ABOVE RIGHT, The famous Tagaytay attraction, Taal Volcano.

We wanted a cool Christmas, so we hied to Tagaytay for the Christmas holidays.

We drove early Saturday morning of December 24th, after attending the last segment of the "simbang gabi".

SLEX was heavenly - no traffic, but the best part was that the Sta. Rosa exit, which had been previously covered in the news as clogged with holiday travellers, was deserted.

It took us just an hour to reach Tagaytay. Right away, we felt spring-like weather, hovering between 14 - 16 degree celsius.

First item of the day upon reaching Tagaytay was breakfast at Antonio's. The famous restaurant was about two kilometres from the Aguinaldo Highway, and one has to drive down a narrow, sloping one-way lane.


But upon reaching Antonio's, we forgot about the strenuous drive, because the place boasted of lush garden amidst a sprawling property. We were led to the breakfast area - a huge house decorated with antique tables and furniture.













ABOVE, Antiquity displayed at the Main House in Antonio's Bed and Breakfast.

We chose to dine al fresco. The breakfast selection
was wide, and the prices were quite steep, but there was bottomless coffee, so I was quite happy with my pancakes and bacon.

After breakfast, we toured the place. In the main house, there was a display of photographs of the families of the owners - the Escalantes of Bacolod.




BELOW, a lone canary inside a souvenir shop at Sonya's Garden. Opposite, found at Bag of Beans, love birds and budgies.

Next stop was Sonya's Garden, which was even further from Tagaytay proper.












Here, our sights were treated to more greenery - plants and flowers and a beautiful trail, with a convenience store selling herbal and other health products. In the inner sanctum was a bakeshop, where we bought raisin bread and other pastries.

Although I've gone to Tagaytay several times in the past, it was my first time to visit the Caleruega Church. We heard the midnight mass at the renowned Our Lady of Lourdes where they had a "salubong."













We tried the famous Tagaytay Bulalo for Christmas dinner, and for Christmas breakfast, it was at Bag of Beans breakfast buffet.




ABOVE, a delectable selection of sweets at Bag of Beans, part of its breakfast buffet, which cost 399 pesos per person.

Pre-lunch was at Mushroom Burgers and lunch at Leslie's, where apart from its delectable food, was a breath taking view of Lake Taal.

We then headed to the Pink Sisters' Chapel and the last stop was the Good Shepherd's Convent to buy goodies - ube halaya, macapuno/nata and pulvoron.

I must say the macapuno was super delicious - the coconut was chunky and right to the bite, and the syrup was not sweet at all, and thick, it almost clung to the macapuno. A bottle of macapuno was 160 pesos.





















ABOVE, Interior of Our Lady of Lourdes Parish Church.

On 29th December, we went to a dinner cruise offered by the Sun Cruises Tours.

Actually, I preferred the cruise run by Prestige, but upon reaching the MOWA complex, we were told by security it had been scrapped a long time ago.

So, we drove to the Cultural Centre Complex and got barely in time for the six o'clock departure; the exact location of the docking area was behind the Folk Arts, beside the Jumbo Palace.

We went to the dinner/cruise not for the food, but for the experience of seeing Manila Bay up close.

The ship was called MV Spirit of Manila with lower and upper decks, where passengers partake of a set course dinner with entertainment. It cost 550 pesos per passenger for the dinner and cruise.

The night proved pleasant. The weather was cool and breezy, and Manila Bay was quite handsome that evening.

As the boat sailed, I remembered the times when my father used to drive us Sunday mornings to Luneta at Dewey Boulevard, and took us to a boat ride of Manila Bay.

After the cruise, we headed to some club dancing.

Where to Merry?

In the olden days, our family used to trek to our home province of Nueva Ecija to celebrate Christmas day. Then everyone grew up - some got married, others left for abroad and so the celebrations changed venues overtime.

But the New year tradition of gift giving (Kris Kringle) survived.

Where to make merry this holiday? I'm in town so it'll be in town.

In our clan, Christmas Day celebration is limited to one's inner family, but New Year's Day is spent with the entire tribe - siblings, cousins, children, nephews and nieces, in laws, grandchildren and house crew.

Choosing the venue for a New Year's get together depends on whim. Last year, we were at Fontana's in Clark. Picking the host or spot depends on size of the house - there should be enough space for kids to run around and activities to be held (eating, playing and gift giving).

Hosting a New Year's day party, or any family party, for that matter, is tedious and tiresome.
One's got to clean the house, prepare the china and cutlery, think of entertainment, and bring out tables and chairs, enough electric fan, and make sure every one's comfortable.

Few weeks ago, we hosted the twin birthday celebration of a nephew's son and my mother's, so we're exempted from the New Year's party this year. Good thing is, whenever there's a family get together, it is either pot luck, or there's pooled money or someone would sponsor the event.

So, have yourself a Merry little Christmas NOW! Stay safe.

Philippines' Boracay! Better than Hawaii?

We spent two nights and three days on the island of Boracay last week.















Boracay, the number 2 tourist destination in Asia, second only to Bali in Indonesia, is one of several islands comprising the province of Aklan in the Visayas.

Was it breathtaking? Yes! Was it idyllic? Yes!

According to Toots and Cesar, who were with us visiting from Arizona, Boracay is better than Hawaii.

Where we stayed, at Station 2, the beach had the



finest white sand your bare feet could stand on. The shoreline of Boracay is long and pristine. The waters are of an


amazing aqua blue. And the sun was friendly when we were there.

We stayed at La Soleil, a Mediterrenean-inspired hotel, fronting the beach. Buffet breakfast was included in our package, but we opted out of dinner because we wanted to savour the different cuisines along the resort. There were Filipino buffets heavy on grilled seafood, Mongolian, Chinese, Japanese, Greek, Italian and Korean food everywhere.

Fresh fruit shakes, buko juice, and wines of varying vintages, and of course, beer were sold and consumed along the many restaurants and bars dotting the beaches. Cocomangas, an institution in Boracay is still in operation, so is Charly's and the always full Nigi Nigi which is patronized mainly by international tourists.

The frontage of Boracay Regency at night was full of locals who were trying to catch the live performances of a nightly band. We saw fire dancing and by the waters, there was a group lighting lanterns and letting the night air carry the contraptions. It was lovely!

RIGHT ABOVE, Crystal Cove, one of the islands featured in an island hopping package.

There was a quarter moon hovering when we were there.

Booking a vacation to Boracay seemed difficult at the start. While still in Canada, a sister queried if we'd like to join them for a vacation. She arranged everything and quoted me a price, which to me seemed steeped. Then much later, she told me it was sold out and I should book it myself.

When we finally decided to tag along to Boracay, I turned to the Internet searching for good deals and packages. WOW Philippines proved to be a dud; it had an enticing internet ad but when I called its sales office whom I specifically asked for a particular hotel, (La Carmela), I was made to wait for one full day, (with emails back and forth; calls mainly initiated by me) and at the end of the day, being told that my booking was for another hotel.

Of course I abandoned this lousy travel agency, and searched other package providers. Then I decided to book the airlines first and then the hotel afterwards. Booking the flight was another story.

ABOVE, hats - everywhere you go.
There were tons of internet sites which would tell you of airline sales, but I decided to book directly and on-line with airphil express. Its sales office (via telephone) would charge a higher fee. It's better to do it on line.

Next comes the hotel. Whenever I found a hotel, I checked the customer reviews. For instance, I found out that several hotels which carry the names of franchise-hotels had no connection whatsoever with the international chains, such as the Boracay Peninsula.

I decided to book La Soleil because that's where my other companions were staying. My sister's agent told her it was sold out. Through tedious searching, I found a travel agency which had La Soleil rooms available at much lower prices, even lower than the Hotel's own website prices. The agency is called asia travel.

But the cautious, cynical soul in me started to work, especially after I saw news about a local travel agency
which duped several vacationers out of amazing Palawan vacation packages which proved to be fake.

I started to call airphil and La Soleil (checked whether asia travel was legit).

Finally there was the thing about transportation transfer, from Caticlan to the hotel and back. Searching again, I found there were providers like Southwest, which charge about 800 - 900 pesos per passenger, and take you through all the transfers, from airport to Jetty Port to your hotel, which includes baggage handling. And there were tons of blogs telling about independent transport transfers which would cost much less.

On the whole, the flight was okay with minor delay, the transfer to hotel was uneventful, the check in was quick.


RIGHT ABOVE, Cocomangas, an institution in Boracay. It's featured in the Magic Sing karaoke.

On our second day, we took the island hopping package which included the 16-foot deep immersion to see underwater creatures, the brief snorkeling experience and the trip to the Crystal Cove which was magnificent.

Any vacation would not be complete without dancing, so we tried the La Soleil Disco, but soon found out the younger crowd were content drinking their beer and wine, listening to music and talking/texting. But these did not prevent us from taking the dance floor no matter how briefly it was.

At the end, everyone had a tan - the youth among our group, and the more matured folks - all the same flavours and hues of the Boracay sun.

















Right, Pearls of Boracay. Peddlers of pearls will tell you they're licensed.








RIGHT, a hardworking Pinoy selling ice cream and popsicles, in the middle of the sea.
















ABOVE, the clear, green and blue waters of Boracay display this school of small fish.

Mayweather, Pacman and the Losers.

Floyd Mayweather punched Ortiz while the referee was motioning to the timekeeper, not once but twice, and was declared winner. Manny Pacquiao outpointed Marquez and was declared winner in last Saturday's welterweight championship fight.

Some American boxing aficionados groaned, but accepted the decision in the Mayweather case. In Pacquiao's case, some boxing aficionados grunted and SHOULD ACCEPT the Pacquiao win.

I wouldn't be surprised if Mexicans would boo Pacquiao and say Marquez was robbed the game. Of course, they would root for their countryman. But to smart aleck Pinoys who say Marquez won, I don't have patience.

Pinoys who continue to pull down their compatriots are flaunting the Pinoy crab mentality. We've seen this many times. I've seen it many times in work places and events outside the Philippines, amongst fellow Filipinos.

Unlike other cultures, we Pinoys don't support our compatriots.

I have a former officemate whom I requested to ask her editor if I could have some articles published in the community paper where she is a featured columnist. She never got back to me. Much later did I realize that the paper she writes for has the organization I last worked as a regular advertiser.

Well, I left that organization on a sour note; I was accused by the ED as having reported my manager to a big funder. That manager, who drew part of his salary from the funder was a regular no show in the office, and never supported my Unit which was a moneymaker in a non-profit. Now, I heard this manager has been re-assigned in a satellite office and no longer flaunts his "work ethic" in the central or hub location.

Anyways, this part of my life has long been forgotten if not for the just concluded Pacquiao-Marquez fight, which reminded me of the crab mentality I experienced from a fellow Pinoy office worker.

This "I'll pull you down," mentality by some Pinoys shows insecurity and envy.

Some of our fellow "kababayans," especially while working abroad, are always ready to score once they sense that a fellow Pinoy is in tight spot; instead of going to his/her aid, they make it a point to pull the individual down so they can go up and occupy the top/better spot.

Other cultures always come to the rescue of their compatriots. That's why their ethnic groups develop political clout because they are unified, they are cohesive, they support each other. Look how successful Chinese and Indian people are wherever they go. Hispanics, too.

Majority of the judges in the Pacquiao-Marquez fight gave the game to Pacquiao . These judges were in the ringside and saw and heard the punches up close.

To those Pinoys who continue to blab that Manny didn't win, just shut up your big mouths. The game was won by Manny Pacquiao. Yipee yehey.

You LOST.

Bye My Baby Love Van

I'm a rat pack; I keep old bills, expired driver's license, old car insurance cards, bank statements, old credit cards, even slips/receipts of money remittances I'd sent back home many years ago.

I find it hard to let go of things.

So it was especially heartbreaking to see my baby go today.

This afternoon, I said goodbye to my beloved vehicle - a 1999 Plymouth Voyager. I gave it away to my sister. It happened at the Buffalo Border in New York.

Not that I've not been separated from my car. In 2000, I left my baby Van behind when I went back to P.I. And lately, since my stay in Manila has become increasingly longer, I've left behind my reliable Plymouth again.

Me and my Plymouth had seen many roads together. Those travels all over Ontario, to Ohio, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, even to Florida Disney world one time, which saw us driving to Southern cities of Virginia, Georgia, the Carolinas.

Me and my Plymouth had experienced many cold and humid days and nights, together. Smooth and snowy rides. Hills and slopes.

The van didn't give up on me, and I didn't give up on her.

There was this time when we were driving to Steubenville from Columbus, Ohio, late one night, after a five hour plane ride from Los Angeles, and my two passengers were sleeping oh so soundly while rain was raging, and I was the only one awake, and my Plymouth kept me company with her smooth, soothing sound and glide.

It's heartbreaking to let go of a friend, my baby Van. But she will be in good hands - with my sister. I hope she keeps her tidy and clean, as I've done through the years. My Plymouth, she's stills sparkling - like a lady in her prime - despite her 12 years on the go.

I'd miss her, for sure.

Healthy Eating, Dieting, or Plain Stupid?

I've been weeks away from home and I've been eating plain stupid. The first few days, I subsisted on bagel with oodles of cream cheese, sometimes, peanut butter with jelly. Breakfast was lunch and was dinner.

Then, friends invited me for dinner and we had a blast at a Caribbean restaurant with plates of camaron rebosado look alike and fried rice with chicken, beer and red wine. Then we headed to Tim Horton's for late coffee.

Few days after, former colleagues treated me to a Japanese lunch, and then more coffee.

Back where I'm staying, I reverted to my usual breakfast, lunch and dinner - oatmeal with lots of fruit (strawberries and banana), toast bagel with cream cheese and peanut butter with jelly. Sometimes, I'd switch to Ramen noodles, or occasional fried chicken or pork chop with fried rice.

What I haven't altered is my daily dose of caffeine.

In Ohio, my sister prepared Pinoy food for me, but I protested and told her, I'd had Pinoy food in Manila for months already. So, she served me American breakfast and dinner.

One time we were at Wendy's, Leona, my nephew's four-year old daughter told us, "stop talking like a baby." That's what she said whenever we spoke in Tagalog and she could not understand. Ha ha ha.

Then the results of my blood test came, and my doctor told me that my blood sugar, although still reasonably okay, was higher than previous tests. And there was fat in the liver. Conclusion: I'd been eating fat- rich food in Manila, not exercising, and plainly eating.

So back to my oatmeal.

Mom's second year death anniversary is tomorrow, Oct. 30th. Bless her soul.

My Way.

It's been a crazy two weeks. Getting almost bumped off my flight out of Manila, staying in Korea for 15 hours, and getting the colds in Canada.

At the NAIA, the clerk told me my flight was in the early morning, but my ticket showed a 12:20 pm departure. I was told to come back, that my agent should've notified me of the changes, blah, blah, blah. I insisted to take the noon flight.

After a half hour of waiting, KAL agreed to let me hop into their jumbo, checked me into Hyatt Regency and gave me free dinner and breakfast buffet. Excellent.

ABOVE RIGHT, with nephew Justin.

Now, my nose is almost un-clogged after the sudden change in temperature upon reaching the shores of Toronto.

Here now in another city called Toronto,in Ohio, I am slowly digesting news back home, some happy, one disturbingly sad.

Dual citizens have difficult lives. Being transported back and forth into different weathers, cultures, scenarios, scents and people.

The Ber's are Back.

I was shocked to see Christmas Trees on the set of a local morning news show yesterday. Then I remembered it was September 1st, and then I remembered I was in P.I., the country with the longest Christmas celebration.

If I were in North America, the start of Ber... September, would remind me of the demise of Summer, and the re-birth of cool days of Autumn and Winter.

Here in Manila, my sweaters and jackets are packed inside two suitcases. If I were in North America, these items would be hung in the hallway and walk in closet, uncreased and ready to be worn anytime.

Here in Manila, my stuff are constantly re-arranged and sometimes, I've got no clue where my personal items are; if I were in North America, my things would be where they were as I left them.

Being tidy is called being neat freak here in Manila; in North America, it is a must, almost a law. How could you not keep nook and crannies spotless when you are bombarded by North American TV docus showing mites hiding in mattresses and bedding and bacteria in whatever you touch, and TV commercials hawking cleaning and hygienic products.

I hate dirt and smelly clothes, Kay Brosas the comic, shouts in one local TV detergent spot. I could commiserate with her.

In the washroom, I hate seeing grime and want to smell Lysol. In the sink, I hate seeing black spots and want to smell Lysol. Under the cabinet, I hate seeing ants or roaches crawling and want to smell Lysol. In the living room or bedroom, I hate seeing mosquitoes and want to smell fresh cologne.

I'm a tidy person, not a neat freak. I hate the sound of freak, it freaks me out.

Caps Ahoy !

Rain was raging as we drove last Sunday to Bulacan to visit a sick relative. The U.S. East Coast and Canada were having bad weather that day, too. So Mina and Irene unleashed their ire and destroyed both lives and property in disparate parts of the world.

Speaking of weather, I always have my baseball cap on whenever I brave the hot, humid or rainy weather of Manila. I have a hat rack at home which constantly draws visitors' attention for it carries a wide assortment of state logos and sporting events.

My bro in law Carl from Ohio has a bigger hat collection; it's kept in the bedroom where I sleep whenever I visit them. When I call his attention to a new hat in his rack, he admonishes me and like a Western cowboy would say, "don't touch a man's hat," or to that effect. So, he'd buy me a new baseball cap. He also gave me one of his company's rare industrial caps and every time he sees me would accuse me of getting it behind his back, in jest.

I look different when I wear a hat. In Toronto, even some co-workers would not recognize me when I'm donning one of the hats. I even have a hat which makes me look like Indiana Jones. In my dreams.

Confirming Flight, Etc in a Day.

Yesterday, I confirmed my flight for a trip this coming Fall. The clerk at the airline was rude, an "I don't care attitude," which I felt even through the airwaves. I screamed at him, and that made him more amenable.

I hate waiting or being told by a recording that "all representatives are busy and attending to other customers." So that guy got my peppery mood because his company made me wait for fifteen minutes.

Am I flying with them, again? Maybe not. There are many options available; I might travel back to P.I. with my sister and bro in law who already booked with Eva Air from Washington.

After that morning fiasco, we headed to the mahjong table and in the afternoon, had a karaoke session over beer and Ding Dong. As we were deserting the microphone in favor of the early evening news edition, I suggested going to a dance, a plot that got postponed for a million times already.

It was six thirty, and the first set at Conway's starts at eight, so we cleaned and dressed up in a hurry. Luckily, C5 was not as congested as I thought. But the traffic at the ramp and on to Paseo was heavy.

We arrived at Conway's at 8:30 pm, and found a good table fronting the bandstand. The band for the night was Behind Closed Doors, with a female vocalist.

It was a night of retro music, and the band's play list was curved for ballroom dancing. As I'd hung my dancing shoes for quite a while now, and without my regular dance partner, we spent most of the night listening to the band and drinking beer and iced tea.

Conway's menu has changed a bit. The food we ordered was breaded calamari blended in a spicy and creamy concoction of vinegar and mayonnaise with enough spinach and the second plate was bruschetta.

As the night progressed, we saw gorgeous female Brazilian? models on the dance floor.

Danceable music could not contain our lack of practise, so in the middle and last sets, we made contact with the dance floor, although we didn't "ballroom," but danced anyway.

Two of our friends who were supposed to join us were tending to their ailing mother, and promised to show up next time.

Better than Sudoku.

Toyz was not doing crosswords although the booklets were blended with the glossy magazines. So I finished them all.

Then when I ran out of crossword puzzles and sudokus to solve, I hied to National Bookstore to purchase more. I promised myself to buy thicker booklets on my next trip to Canada.

This weekend past, we drove to Bulacan to visit an ailing relative and played mahjong with some "hustlers." I was posing as a "miron," because I've forgotten how to play the game; in the first place, I never really played mahjong as an ace, but only as a tyro.

I first sat at a mahjong table in the 80's, and as I was learning the basics of the game, it was time to work in the U.S. I was able to play some mahjong there because the family I lived with in Jersey City, them young fellows, were all mahjong babies. There was even a time when I played mahjong in Queens, New York when a cousin from Manila visited. This cousin and the hubby of another cousin were all pros and I lost big time.

Then last April when we vacationed in Baguio, mahjong became a part of killing time, this time with my sisters and her pals. Pros as they were and "toddlers" as we were, they taught us some strategies of winning.

Back in Bulacan, I decided to play on my own. The stakes were low, so I took time to polish my sword. Little by little, I went for some "ambisyon," and won some.

Now back in Manila, we started to further hone our games. Toyz set up the table yesterday morning and we played till early afternoon. Today, we're back at the table.

I'm not abandoning my puzzles and sudoku, though. These are my brain teasers, plus this mahjong.

Condo craze.

A day in a mall would not be complete without being handed a flyer or brochure of a condo, townhouse or house and lot being developed and sold.

Sometimes, I accept them, most of the time I ignore them,

other times, I simply veer away from the representative.

But there would be days when upon reaching home, I'd discover the brochures tucked in my pant pockets, in shopping bags, or inside my security bag.

ABOVE RIGHT, Ace Water Spa.

Yesterday, cousins Kell and Louie treated a group of us to a day at a spa called ACE Water Spa. There, we got pampered and "cured" by hydro therapy massage - a variety of water system concoctions, where customers choose from a variety of "water massage," and steam and herbal pools. It was a relaxing and fun way to spend a rainy day.

"Hydrotherapy massage - is a kind of therapeutic massage that utilizes “Ultrasonic Jet System” that massages specific areas of the body with its aquatic jets strategically located to relax and soothe tired and aching muscles. This treatment is best done in heated water.

These one push-of-a-button equipments are categorized as soft, moderate and hard massages. Because of these, the customers are assured of the same consistent experience, unlike manual hand massages wherein every visit may be a different experience due to different factors. For example, a masseuse that offers hard massages may not be as strong as before because he is already tired.

Moreover, the massage systems, being “do-it-yourself” type, gives the customer the freedom to decide which water equipment to use and which part of his body needs more attention."

After partaking of complimentary hot corn soup at the Spa, we headed to Kell and Louie's condo and had dinner but ended issuing a rain check on a plan to go dancing later that evening.

After partaking of complimentary hot corn soup at the Spa, we headed to Kell and Louie's condo and issued a rain check on an earlier plan to go dancing.

Instead, we spent the rest of the evening discussing local and domestic issues, and talking about condominiums.

Kell and Louie own several condominium units which they maintain as investment eggs. They visit and sleep in any of them whenever they find time out from their super busy schedule.

After a scrumptious dinner of brown rice, "daing na bangus," fresh, red tomatoes, and egg omelet, the generous duo brought us to do some condo shopping.

Apparently, one nephew was selling his Unit in the same building.

We hied to the highest floor overlooking QC where the giant pool was located, and enjoyed a crisp, cool night talking about nothing.

Then we met up with the Manager who showed us more units for sale. One good Unit, a 31- sq.m floor plan, had several windows and a good view of the frontage, but upon closer look, didn't appeal to me because it had several low beams and an obtrusive post which makes the room smaller and crowded.

I asked to see a Loft and was quite comfortable with its size, a 50+ Unit, with two bathrooms and a view of the pool, but got floored by the price - 4+ million Philippine pesos. There was a good looking furnished Model, about 31 sq. m. but it was an interior unit, meaning no outside view; directly across is another unit.

There were other units presented to us, in the range of 30's square metres and priced at 2.4 plus million pesos.

After digesting rates of interest, down payments, and schemes of payments, we headed to Starbucks for a late night caffeine session, calling overseas relatives, and googling on the plant called "Ashitaba."

Cousin Bek who's in a Japanese marriage, regaled us with facts of the "curing

miracles" of Ashitaba. Apparently, it can cure diabetes, hypertension, and a host of other ailments. And alas, cousin Bek has a doctor for a neighbour who's given her the plant.

At almost twelve in the evening, we were crossing the stretch of Congressional Ave. Extension to get the plant Ashitaba.

It was almost one in the morning when we reached home. The neighbourhood was quiet. Except for us who were pounding on the iron gate. The gate was locked, our key became useless. The dogs were howling. The maid was not waking up.

Finally, we drove to the Main gate and asked the guards for help. We were led to the main security house where a patrol trailed us back home and after we assured him that the dogs were leashed, he climbed over the fence and opened the gate for us.

After a soothing day at the herbal pool and a cosy evening of healthy food and talk, our night ended like some scene direct from a juvenile film - like teens out for a wild time, well beyond their curfew hours, sneaking back into the house, climbing over the fence.

Then I asked myself: when someone pays 2 million or 4 million pesos for a smallish condo unit, what are they really paying for? My quick answer: the concept of condo living. Which in the Philippines means, upscale living.

I have both been a private house resident in Manila and a condo dweller in Toronto for the last twenty years, so I don't mind scaling back, but the thought of getting cooped up in 30+ sq. m. quarters makes me even more claustrophobic than usual.