Wednesday, February 25, 2009

my stories

I have a collection of not so nice experiences just before I head for the airport and in the airport itself. Most of these experiences were a result of my tendency to take things slow and just throw any sense of urgency that I may have into the great garbage bin where they also stashed my not so common sense.


Story 1

‘Twas the last Friday before Christmas Day (when all through the house not a creature was stirring…not even a mouse…ok enough). It was December 22 2004, a dear friend of mine accompanied me while I was trying to tie some loose ends at work, before my grand Christmas vacation. We left the office at around midnight, thinking that I have all the time in the world since my flight was at 5am. Five hours would be enough to get cab, pack and take a cab again to the airport. Or so I thought.

We had a difficult time hailing a cab in front of our company’s headquarters. So we decided to go to the nearest intersection. After 30 minutes of fruitless wait for a taxi, we headed back to the headquarters (I’m beginning to like this word).


The guard told us that he’ll get a cab for us, so we just sat on chairs the nice guards offered us. Around 1:30am, wala pa rin! All the cabs have been sucked in by a great black hole called the Christmas rush. So my friend decided to call her brother to pick us up. But it turned out, her brother’s out since really it’s the last Friday before Christmas day. Everybody is out. So her Dad offered to pick us up.


While waiting for her Dad, a couple who’s probably also tying their own loose ends in the office decided to wait for cab a few meters from where we sat. After a few minutes of waiting, they got a cab. Just like that. And we were waiting for two hours! Tough luck.

Before my friend’s Dad arrived, finally (!) there was a cab for us! I got in the cab while my friend opted to wait for her Dad who was also on his way.

And I thought the story ends there, when my cab was cruising along EDSA I got a call from my friend. Their cab broke down just a few meters from our headquarters. Murphy's Law was at work this night and we were the lab rats. Well I guess it was not really our night. I managed to get in my flight just in time. But I would not forget this night of cab horrors.

I would've missed this sunrise if I missed my flight (I like the contrast of sunrise and rain side by side)

Moral of the story:
Don’t try to tie loose ends at the last minute. Some things are bound to mess up. Allow some buffer time for the unforeseen and for circumstances beyond your control.

Story 2

December 23, Saturday, 330am. Again, this is the last Saturday before Christmas Day. I was taking my own sweet time getting ready....then at 345am I waited for a cab. Thinking – I had enough time to look for one and get to the airport for my 510am flight. Again, this was the last Saturday before Christmas day so everybody was rushing home. I got to the airport at around 430am. Hmmm....I thought I can make it. But alas! All major cities in the country have 5-ish flights. The lobby was packed. There were no more carts available. But I had to have one because I got three big bags (no humungous…well bags are huge compared to me). What's causing the people jam? There were only two lines for all of PAL's domestic destinations. And I'm just talking about going in the terminal. Not the check in counters. It was major mayhem.

So I got no choice but I left one of my bags and trusted that nobody would dare steal a kid's pink barbie trolley bag (which is not mine but my sister’s friend’s daughter). I went back for it after checking where the real line is. The lobby was full of people with several lines that have no start and end.


the Barbie bag united with the kid

At 4:45am, the line wasn’t moving and they are already calling people who have 5am flights. I squeezed myself through the traffic and got through at around 500 (This is a much simplified version of how I squeezed myself through). When I got to my check in counter, I was the second to the last person to check in. As soon as I got in, the plane took off. Phew. Close call. I don’t want to think what would’ve happen to me if I missed my flight, not to mention, it the Christmas Season! Serves me right for not leaving earlier than 330.

Moral of the story:
Listen to your friend who always tells you to be at the airport two hours before the flight NOT look for a cab two hours before the flight. And oh yes, that is also printed on my ticket, hmmm…I should always read the fine print.

The Border

I’ve been planning to write about this before I completely forgot the details of this exciting border crossing.

Meg and I crossed the Poipet (Cambodia) / Aranyaprathet (Thailand) border on April 27, 2008. I expected this to be the most challenging part of our whole trip. And my expectation was met.

It was the second day of our six-day adventure in the land of the free and the kingdom of wonder. We left Mary Ann’s place in the Asian Institute of Technology (AIT) at about sunrise. It was early, as a matter of fact, Mary Ann hasn’t woken up yet. We took a cab from AIT to Morchit Bus Terminal where we would take a bus to Aranyaprathet. The ride to the bus terminal turned out to be a long one especially with a non-English speaking (but laughing often) driver. And Meg and I got a taste of Bangkok traffic which contrary to what I’ve is not as horrible as I thought. After living in Manila for 13 years, you get used to traffic jams.

When we finally got to the bus Terminal, the driver just laughed us off (after we paid of course). I was thinking that driver, for lack of a better way to communicate with us, just inhaled a substantial amount of laughing gas, and decided just to laugh at us if ever we have a question he can’t understand.

Getting the ticket (215 baht) for the bus was fairly easy. The guy at the ticket counter was friendly. We got the seat at the back of the driver. Traveling to Aranyaprathet is like traveling from Iloilo City to Ajuy. There was nothing much to see but rows of houses and ricefields. A noticeable difference though is that there are two flags in front of each house, one is the Thailand flag and the other is a flag of the kingdom. Upon arriving in the town center, we took a Tuk Tuk (60baht) to the border itself.


We read all about the scams in the Poipet border so we’re a bit (ok not a bit, we were really) paranoid when we got to this point. Our contact in Siem Reap also warned us to be cautious since there were a lot of touts in the area.

Meg and I were holding maps of the area so we were a bit confident where we were headed. But after walking several meters we realized we’re lost. We saw casinos all around us, and the map says we shouldn’t be there yet. So we asked around and the first person we approached is the guy manning a small hotel’s entrance. He just smiled and directed us to go inside. We wondered where he was directing us to go. When we got in, he introduced us to a Kababayan who was working as a receptionist in the hotel.

It turned out, we already passed by our meet-up place. So we retraced our steps and found the Cambodia Visa Services building where we will meet our contact, Somboth. (Thanks to Pinoys and Pinays working all over the world, a fellow kababayan has a friend anywhere in the world.)

We’re supposed to meet a guy named Somboth in the building. Our contact told us to specifically ask “What’s your name?” not “Are you Somboth?”. There were a lot of touts in the area so he told us to be extra careful.

I thought the strategy was fool-proof but when two guys claimed they were both Somboth, things got “exciting”. I tried to call our contact but we can’t reach him. Instead, there was a non-English speaking girl at the other end of the line. She told us to go with the first Somboth.

After we got out of immigration, “Somboth” took us to a bus. We panicked cause we knew a taxi was supposed to fetch us from the border. Instead, Meg and I were in a non-air-conditioned bus. And we were the only passengers in a huge bus! (At this point, we we were sure we were being scammed.) But after just a few meters of big puddles of murky water, we were told to get off the bus. Somboth introduced us to our “taxi driver”. At this point, we didn’t trust anyone. We tried to call our guest house again and after a seemingly endless phone call not going anywhere. We were somehow convinced (although not 100%) that this is indeed our ride. Our driver is Sol, a Khmer. He looked a bit young and he looked decent so we finally were convinced to get in the cab.

The first few minutes, Meg and I were ready to bolt out of the cab. We were asking Sol a whole of questions just to check if he’s really the one who was supposed to pick us up. After seeing how paranoid we were, Sol laughed. His laugh broke the tension.

Since we were already convinced we were in good hands, I thought we will be able to relax and enjoy the ride. Lo and behold! That was just the start of the adventure.

The road condition from Poipet to Siem Reap was supposed to be really bad during rainy season. But April is supposed to be summer time so we were not expecting any rain. No! Things have to be really more exciting. It turned out we were in the middle of a ten-day storm! So there are only two road conditions, bad and worse.

Since it has been raining the whole day, the unpaved road was converted to an off-road with a terrain only good for 4x4 (not even). After 30 minutes on really bad roads, we stopped. A truck ahead of us got stuck, so at least a kilometer of traffic jam ensued. Good thing, Sol can speak English well and we got to talk about a lot of things. I asked him two questions and he laughed. You know why? The same questions were also asked by his Filipino guests a week before. The first question, What’s the name of your president and Do you know Angelina Jolie? He knows the name of his president but he has no idea who Ms Jolie is. When in my mind, Angelina is very closely linked to Cambodia. But it turned out not to this Cambodian. What is it with Filipinos and showbiz?

Back on the road…..some of the tourists in the other cars decided to eat some local delicacy sold in the streets. After an hour, we got moving again. We thought things will be running smoothly from here on but this day is turning out to be full of surprises. We got stalled again. Another car got stuck. The roads were really bad that even a 4x4 vehicle’s tires can’t handle the terrain. Phew!

After 30 mintues, we got moving again. And yes, you’ve guessed it, another car got stuck again and it turned out to be ours! Our friend (yes, at his point, he became our friend) Sol, who was very composed with his neatly combed hair tried to maneuver his way out of the mud but he can’t get the car out. Good thing, one of his driver friends was behind us and he helped push the car out of the mud. After this, Sol’s hair was in complete disarray. And he was profusely apologizing to us for what’s happening. He said this three-hour ride is turning out to be six-hour ride. He’s a nice guy after all.

It was starting to get dark. I was praying that we won’t be stuck in the middle of nowhere at night. We haven’t eaten since breakfast, and I felt pangs of hunger at this point. We ate some of our life-saving donuts. Those were probably the best donuts I have ever tasted.

After we got stuck, I can’t remember if we got stalled again. Probably. But it was part of a routine we got so used to that we didn't count anymore. It was already dark and we were still on the road. But the roads were getting better. (from worse, it’s getting bad). Finally, we got to out destination in a very dramatic manner. The bright lights of Siem Reap welcomed us to a place I didn't think existed at the end of the road we just traversed.

The communities we passed by, were such in deplorable conditions that I feel blessed to be a Filipino. I feel sorry for feeling that way. But the road conditions in the boondocks of Iloilo were way better than the road conditions in this part of the world.

Siem Reap is a city with fancy hotels, huge structures and a lot of tourists. But after seeing the communities we passed through, I thought we got in a warp zone where we got sucked in a different universe. The difference between Siem Reap and the nearby communities is so indecently pronounced that I had to stop and allow the reality to sink in.

This day is quite an assault to all my senses. When we got to Siem Reap, we were so thankful to arrive in one piece and have a place to stay. At the same time, it made me realize again not to take things for granted and be thankful for everything that I have. Oh, by the way, Siem Reap has this big structure.


Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Beware a FW message is enclosed

Whenever I see an FW in the subject heading of my email, I usually just skim through it. But a friend recently forwarded this story and I'm glad I gave it the time of day.


One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean, he was really friendly. So I asked, 'Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!' This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call, 'The Law of the Garbage Truck.

He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump it on you. Don't take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don't take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets. The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. Life's too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, so... Love the people who treat you right. Pray for the ones who don't. Life is ten percent what you make it and ninety percent how you take it!Have a blessed, garbage-free day!

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Sagada food

Yes, I still haven't recovered from my Sagada fever. Here's some of the food I ate while I was up there.

Ok, this may look like an ordinary fried rice with vegetable but it ain't , it's vegetable with fried rice (really ang sarap nito from Yoghurt House)


I didn't eat some of these purple cabbages but they look yummy


best zucchini I ever tasted, this creamy creamy Fetuccine with Zucchini is at the top of my list

the goto sold near the bus stop is perfect on a cold morning (with my friend Emee and Danish woman as background)

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Place Above Clouds

Feb 8 - It was two years (to the day) since I last visited Sagada. Today is my third time in this difficult to access charming town atop the mountain province. When they say it's the trip not the destination. They must mean Sagada. The road from Baguio to Sagada is abt 150 kms. That's six hours of sitting in a bus. But you will be in for a treat. I love the scenery in this route. You will see green ravines, twisting roads, lots of pine trees, clouds flowing on mountains.

You would pass by the highest point in the Phil. National Highway system at 7900 feet in Atok, Benguet. That is the house in the picture below.


You would see endless rice terraces. En route to Sabangan from Dantay, a river runs parallel to the scenic road. I tried to capture the beauty of this scenery through my phone's camera but I can't. The depth cannot be captured by any 2D image. But I keep on trying and keep on disappointing myself on the shot. There are only two stop overs, Mabaay in Mt. Province and Sayangan in Benguet. Mabaay is where you can see a spiffy Caltex service station in the middle of nowhere. Old women sell vegetables, peanuts, potatoes and other local delicacy like fish crackers (yes on top of the mountain). And people who look like Tibetans with babies strapped on them, would get on the bus. I notice people here have nice rosy cheeks. Upon reaching Sagada, the town may look ordinary but after a while you realize this is not your typrical small town. The weather is cooler. There are limestones strewn all over the town. There are coffins hanging on cliffs. There's a magical cave with amazing formations. The food is superb particluarly the greens. It is a charming quaint town with proud folks. And the locals speak in straight English. The waitress in Youghurt house told my friend, she can't take her sandwich out, as you can see it's open when my friend requested that the sandwich she ordered be packed. (She spoke with an accent reminiscent of British movies.) The local dialect is Kankana-ey, an Igorot dialect similar to Mandarin, one word can have different meanings depending on the tone. As I learned from my busmate, Anglican missionaries taught them to speak English. And as it turns out, mixing that kind of English and the Kankana-ey accent is In the boundary between Benguet and Mt Province,there is a town in the middle of a valley, Buguias. It's a bustling town with several service stations (signs of civilization for me) and banks in the town proper. Buguias is your first glimpse of civilization coming from Sagada en route to Baguio. Seeing the town from the top of the mountain is breath taking with the rice terraces, countless pine trees and a whole lotta trees surrounding the valley, seeing Buguias is a reminder that people actually live in this beautiful part of the country. Then after Buguias, you'll see another visual feast. Saclalan-Sagundoy Valley with huge masses of mountainside carved with rice terraces. That's to your left. After a few minutes, to your right, you will see the Sookan rice terraces. I tried to capture the beauty of this valley. But then again, I failed. Then there will be rice terraces again. Can you see the rice terraces or the bus conductor in the picture above? Then there's Natubleng, a barangay of Buguias with a mountain with different hues of green. It's like seeing a paint company's sales pitch on the color green. Add to that a little brown and the effect is like a postcard. The first time I went here in June 2006, I fell in love with the place. And when my friend Emee, invited me to go to Sagada after our friend's wedding in Baguio, I didn't have any second thoughts. I would gladly go this place over and over again. Even if it means getting stuck on a bus for 13 hours with just this in sight.....

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Special Batchoy

My high school friend Jo Anne and I were talking a couple of weeks ago. We were talking about how long we’ve (high school friends) known each other. We met when we were 12. And this year, most of us (except Jo Anne) will be turning 30. We’ve known each other for more than half our lives. Well, no big deal, most high school friends our age, share the same statistics. But, we are a self-proclaimed special bunch, we call ourselves the Vanguards.

What makes us special? Well, our whole high school lives, we’ve been brainwashed that we are special. Our alma mater is the Iloilo National High School-Special Science Class. Is it the science that’s special? Or is it the class? I never figured that out.

And thanks to the Internet, I found a brief history of our school. http://www.geocities.com/inhs_iloilo/ssc.html. I don’t know how many special science classes there are now in the country. But the article had some pretty interesting revelations. So if you want to know more, just click on the link.

Anyway, speaking of Iloilo and the word special, several vanguards and I ate batchoy last Christmas. (For the past 12 years, the Vanguards have been meeting every Christmas.)

Iloilo, particularly La Paz, is famous for its batchoy, a type of noodle soup. According to Wikipedia, batchoy’s ingredients include pork organs (liver, spleen, kidneys and heart) crushed pork cracklings, vegetables, shrimp, chicken breast or beef loin, shrimp broth, chicken stock and round noodles or miki. Yummy.......The ingredients remind me how motley this motley crew is. The noodles are similar to spaghetti, but are generally a bit finer.

Anyway, batchoy has several variants:

Special
Super Special
Extra Super Special

I think they can come up with as many superlatives as they want.

But one thing’s clear, batchoy is not your regular dish. Special indeed…… back when we were 12 and especially now that we’re 30. Not the batchoy.