Spooked

So the story goes that when I was about a few months old, I was witness to a supernatural being on my crib side. We were still one happy family living in Malate, some guests were in the house and they suddenly remembered that the baby (me) upstairs had no company. One guest nonchalantly said, “No, I saw a woman with long hair standing by her crib.” But when they did a count everyone was downstairs including my yaya who had been sent out to do an errand. They never left me unattended from then on until I had my baptism. In the Philippines, elders have this superstition about not leaving un-baptised babies alone as it makes them prone to visits by evil spirits...

An uncle of mine who was a non-believer of anything supernatural had his dose of a hair-raising moment. He went to a business conference somewhere in a beach resort in Batangas. He was taking a nap in the double decker bed when he felt a presence standing by his side. He opened his eyes and saw a lady shrouded in black (no face, no flesh that he could see). His story becomes blurred at this point but he remembered thinking of jumping from the deck above to the bed of his roommate below. Just before did, the black lady shifted and moved to the place beside the bed he was just about to jump into. Glided was more like it, like the black lady had skates. The the usual story ensued that a girl was raped and killed in that room, then buried in the beach, and she has been haunting them ever since…

My aunts who lived in a dorm called Ilang-Ilang in UP had their own creepy stories to share. One aunt had a white lady haunting her dreams of which circumstances of the dream I now forget. But the creepy thing was not just the dream. But the fact that they discovered that the other girls who lived in the same column of all four floors in the dorm as hers shared the same dream on the same night.

Still in UP, another aunt was studying late into the night when her dressing drawer suddenly opened on its own. Inside it was the copy of The Exorcist, a thick book, which she was reading in those days…

In the 80's, my older sister, Shirley lived with my mom and our other sister in Pampanga. She woke up in the middle of the night to see a girl who looked and was dressed like my other sister (in yellow pj's no less) sitting on the edge of the bed with her side to her. She called her and asked why she was awake and the girl didn't answer, didn't even look. She looked beside her and saw my real sister sleeping soundly, with the doppelganger sitting still at the edge of the bed...

And then there are those stories that are not so spooky but you know it comes from the other side.

A week after my lola died, we were trying to get our lives back on track and trying not to think of the loss that still stung. But not without her last say. In the car on our way from work we noticed the very strong smell of flowers right in the middle of Skyway. No one talked at first until I asked my sister and our driver if they could smell it too. They did and the smell stayed with us for a few minutes until we managed to pull ourselves together. We rememebred her fondly then and we remember her fondly now.

Fresh from a traumatic moment in the morgue when I saw Papa placed in a body bag, I made the decision to ride in the van with him to keep him company on one of the last journeys of his "life". My main concern was to make sure that they treat his body with care and for it to not be loaded into the van like it was some piece of luggage (cause I've been warned that they do that to dead bodies). When it was just him and me, a certain fear creeped in, the kind you have around dead people. It lasted for seconds until I felt calm and profoundly sad all at the same time, remembering that the person in that bag wasn't just some dead body or a potential ghost, but flesh and blood and history all together. Nevermind out family's dotted history - those trivial things fall apart and lose their meaning in the face of the love and loss you feel when a person dies. I felt his presence comforting me, telling me that his meaning in my life doesn't change, it only evolves. In that moment, I felt the powerful feeling of calm, longing, sadness and complete understanding and acceptance of what happened all at the same time, it was overwhelming. In that dark van I sat still and remembered all that was when it was still happy and bright in my world.

Behind us, my uncle (his brother) was trailing us in his own car having his own thoughts when in the expressway past the toll gate, his broken e-pass suddenly sounded off letting him free to pass. The e-pass was broken for a week, and in fact on his way home from the wake that same night he tried to use it again and it didn't work. Maybe it was a mechanical glitch, maybe it was supernatural trick courtesy of the guy in the bag who meant the world to us.

In this season, and in life, we choose what we want to believe. Some believe in the total existence of ghosts, evil spirits, messages from the other side, little miracles. Some choose to be lighthearted and play dress up and get as much candy as they can. Some remember their dead in prayer. Some just wait for the next spooky adventure or story and hope that they will be able to sleep at night afterwards. Me, I try to do all of that even as i live far, far away. Be spooked everyone.

"When a person dies, one does not stop loving him, does one?" - Ayn Rand, We The Living

To Live

It's becoming increasingly hard to enjoy Sundays, especially when Sunday afternoon hits. Right then the feeling of being on the verge of a fresh Monday creeps in. More than when I was back home, my life in Saigon makes me live and crave for the weekends in a way I never felt before. Work is demanding and tough, and the idea of the luxurious, decadent "expat" life is but a myth. At least in my life and most of my circle. We live for the weekends and if back in Manila "live" means partying, I mean "living" here to refer to one or all of the following:

1. Sleeping til your head hurts
2. Lounging in your house or someone else's house
3. Eating Filipino food
4. Watching dvds
5. Occasional bar trips that only last til 12midnight or if you're lucky, 2am.
6. Pampering oneself in the spa
7. Blogging
8. Chatting with your friends and family back home
9. Meeting up with friends to catch up on what you missed out because of the work that barely keeps you sane during the week.
10. Planning getaways and feeling better by just planning

Saigon is a happening city. It is hot - active, alive, colorful, going through a rebirth - all the things Manila went through decades ago. It is interesting to see how the landscape of Vietnamese life is changing due to the opening of their gates tp the rest of the world. Coming from a place with widely opened I feel a little bit weary and protective over this country that isn't my own. I have this nagging feeling that they may not be quite ready for it - like a kid being given too much candy and money too fast. I personally hope they manage to keep their country's identity and inimitable charm intact. Some say it is a good time to be here especially on the business front, if you are into that stuff. Frankly I'm just here for the experience. And what an experience it has and continues to be. But some days, you just want to hibernate into your own world, thinking and dreaming of home and how closer you are to getting back there each day you spend in this place. Some days, you just want to "live".

Pardoned

I'm not surprised by the decision at all. Not even by how quickly it was done like she was running out of time or something. Check out her full statement below. Whereas my ass. (Bitter)comments in bright yellow & parenthesis mine.


Arroyo grants pardon to Estrada

By Lira Dalangin-Fernandez
INQUIRER.net
Last updated 06:48pm (Mla time) 10/25/2007

MANILA, Philippines -- Convicted president Joseph Estrada is a free man.
President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo granted pardon to the 70-year-old deposed leader following a recommendation by the Department of Justice (DoJ), Press Secretary Ignacio Bunye said in a press conference on national television.
Interior and Local Government Secretary Ronaldo Puno has been instructed to deliver the order to Estrada at 9 a.m. Friday at his rest house in Tanay, Rizal, said Bunye, concurrent executive secretary. The process of serving the pardon starts when the former president accepts it and would take about three hours to arrange, Bunye said.

President, Bunye said the pardon was granted after Estrada publicly agreed not to pursue any other elective office. It is also part of Arroyo's policy of releasing prisoners who have reached 70 years of age and in recognition of Estrada's six years in detention, much of it under house arrest, Bunye said. With the pardon, “Estrada has been restored his civil and political rights,” Bunye read. But Bunye said the forfeiture decision imposed by the Sandiganbayan anti-graft court remained in force, "including all writs and processes issued by the Sandiganbayan … except for the bank accounts he owned before his tenure as President."
The President’s order in full:
“Whereas, this Administration has a policy of releasing inmates who have reached the age of seventy (70),
“Whereas, Joseph Ejercito Estrada has been under detention for six and a half years, [In his sprawling mansion nonetheless]
“Whereas, Joseph Ejercito Estrada has publicly committed to no longer seek any elective position or office, [but he can always take that back and run anyway or better yet let his son win]
“In view hereof and pursuant to the authority conferred upon me by the Constitution [but which I don't really deserve because I cheated], I hereby grant executive clemency to Joseph Ejercito Estrada, convicted by the Sandiganbayan of plunder and imposed a penalty of reclusion perpetua. He is hereby restored to his civil and political rights.
“The forfeitures imposed by the Sandiganbayan remain in force and in full, including all writs and processes issued by the Sandiganbayan in pursuance hereof, except for the bank account(s) he owned before his tenure as President.”
Bunye made no mention of the political pressure being exerted by Estrada supporters for release following his sentence of life imprisonment earlier this year for massive graft. Bunye said the President's decision was based on a Department of Justice recommendation, which contained the same reasons given in the "whereas" clause of the order. Asked what had prompted Arroyo to act swiftly on the recommendation, Bunye said the President found sufficient reasons to grant Estrada pardon.
"The [fleeting] power of the President [which by the way is just being sustained by pure luck and pangbabraso] under the Constitution is absolute once the conditions for the grant of the pardon are there, the principal condition being that the sentence has already become final then that can set into motion the process of granting executive clemency," Bunye explained. In granting the pardon, Bunye assured that the President had considered all factors, including those opposing it [but the way cheats and thieves think is not how you and I think so consider her thinking useless]. The pardon came amid allegations by some groups that the move was a "political accommodation" to Estrada [and of course some cash has been thrown around in that deal too]. The chief government prosecutor and lawyers who won the plunder case against Estrada also opposed the move by the Palace, saying "the timing is not good" and “too early.” But Malacañang officials said granting pardon to Estrada was a reconciliatory move that could finally pave the way to unity. Estrada, who was sentenced to life in prison by the Sandiganbayan anti-graft court on September 12 for plunder, told the anti-graft court on Monday that he was dropping a motion for reconsideration on his verdict and would seek "full, free, and unconditional" pardon from Arroyo. The President [the epitome of all that is evil and greedy in the world] was reportedly elated when she was told of Estrada's decision. The Sandiganbayan Tuesday granted Estrada's motion to waive his right to appeal his conviction. Dropping the appeal makes the court's decision final and paves the way for the process of initiating a presidential pardon.

* * *
Revolution again, anyone?

Seven Days

Monday – Manic. Had two new members in my team so it was spent handholding and babysitting them (I swear). It’s always a drag to drag your arse to work on a Monday. I feel that way every week. Not a good thing, really.

Tuesday – Had a client meeting at 10. Client was a cute Asian guy with an Aussie accent. Discussing our “high” prices, he actually drawled:
“We just met, don’t be like that”. He resembled Pitt but his hair was black. I wanted to say (if I owned the company that is): “No worries we
can give you a discount, mate!”

Wednesday – Started the team training where it was intermittently interrupted by my coughing spells. Tiring day, almost lost my voice. Was supposed to have lunch with Pao but he got stuck in a meeting. We rescheduled for Thurs @ Le Jardin (this quaint little cafe in Thai Van Lung Street). I noticed it was mid-week already and it cheered me up.

Thursday – Hot morning, stormy afternoon. Such is the weather in Saigon. Finally met up with Pao and Ching for lunch at Le Jardin amongst french speaking people and unforgivably hot weather. Of course I was teased by Pao that I fit right in with my scarf around my neck and all. Then we teased Ching about the cute white guy behind us that she knew. We ate lunch truly like Pinoys: rice with our steaks. Afterwards it rained cats and dogs and we all got wet on the way back. In the afternoon at work, it was another leg of training. By the end of it I was having an honest-to-goodness full blown headache. I capped the evening off with a much needed massage session with Ate Norma. She's a pinoy who's been living in Vietnam for five years now. She has been a masseuse for 29 years. We talked the whole time she kneaded my body and didn't mind at all.

Friday – Free day. I got sick and stayed back. Partly, I wanted to be one with Pinoys and celebrate the Ramadan holiday (in short: ayaw patalo sa free day sa Pinas) Slept and ate and watched Grey’s Anatomy episodes. That night I felt a bit better and made it to dinner with Rupali, Ching, Brian and Lem. We went to La Cantina where we spotted a guy that looked like Anthony Kiedis. We took a stolen shot with Brian in the foreground doing the Korean pose and the unsuspecting guy in the background...

After dinner we made a dash for the new Megastar Cinema in District 5. It looked like Galleria with nicer seats. Buti na lang, because the movie 'License to Wed' wasn’t great. Went home and spent the rest of the time talking and watching TV. We slept at around 4am.

Saturday – Slept til noon. By 12.30 we were hungry and decided to have Com Tam (Broken Rice with BBQ Pork Chops) for lunch downstairs. We saw the Little Manila sign up so we dropped by and made chika with Tita Lucy. We promised to be there the next day for their soft opening. After all it is the first EVER Filipino resto in Saigon and we (I especially) was thrilled. Kare-kare, sisig, dinuguan, kaldereta = the whole gang of familiar food was there! Afterwards we had anticipated mass in Le Van Sy at 6pm. Had dinner in Ben Thanh market then met up with Dave’s (Lem’s friend) officemate who as visiting from Manila. They were from Manila Water and attended a bidding here in VN. Hope they win it! We had coffee then afterwards went to Acoustic where the tag line was: “Emotion Talks”. Acoustic is a new bar in a Saigon located in 6 Ngo Thoi Nhiem Street. Juram (a pinoy guy and one of the most popular ones in the band circuit) was playing with the Vietnamese band that used to play in Carmen Bar. We got there at around 10:20pm and didn’t know that the music died by 11pm (such is the bar scene in Saigon). Last memorable song we heard: 'Oye Como Va'.

Sunday – Was D-Day. Little Manila Café and Restaurant was open and while we had originally planned to be there at dinner time, we suddenly changed our mind and walked right smack into the Sunday crowd of church goers and other excited Pinoys. The result: our sisig order didn’t come in 1 hour and then 2 hours, after which we lost our patience and appetite. We left annoyed and I snapped at Tita Lucy if all was done “from scratch”; I hope she forgives me for it because it was my combined hunger and suspended excitement over the place for weeks that made it truly a letdown. I guess I’ll be back in a month’s time when they have mastered their systems and customer service. My advice: trim down the huge menu, it’s too ambitious for the capacity of your kitchen. But wasn’t that just sad? We ended up eating a lame lunch in the Italian resto in front.

Now it’s Monday again. End of this week I am off to our company outing slash team building in a far away place called Ninh Chu for three (looongg) days. It starts with a six-hour train ride and ends with an eight-hour bus ride. It will be a tiring weekend for sure. Basically it will be a seven-day work week for me. And it will also be an experience. I’ll be back with a blog entry about that for sure. In the meantime, I have four more days to survive.

Welcome Weekender

The week past seemed unusually long. Friday came and somehow I survived it, inspite of a super difficult morning with a pretty disgruntled person. Good riddance was all I could think, but the "riddance" part was suspended and long drawn out, strung out of its juice up to the last minute. So I was glad when Friday afternoon finally rolled in, slowly but surely albeit with a broken tire, but it was HERE.

By 5.30 pm I was out of the office and in front of Vo Van Tan Street, waiting for my Xe Om driver, S who was late for a few minutes. Getting restless and wanting to get out of that vicinity called The Office, I amused myself by looking at my surroundings. Vo Van Tan on that hour is a small street packed with rush hour traffic. I tried to look for interesting sights:

I saw a 50-ish white guy parked on the sidewalk, hunched in his red Honda bike. He had a black and red helmet which was a bit too small for his head and yellow (previously white) rubber boots that looked out of place. He was staring into space with utter concentration as he puffed on his cigarette slowly, methodically, endlessly. Perhaps he was having a bad day too. Perhaps "slow and endless" was the theme of the day.

I saw an old lady walking on the sidewalk, holding a wide conical hat on her right hand and a bayong-like bag on the other. She wore a periwinkle hued blouse over a periwinkle hued blue loose pants. Her feet were soiled and her sandals were worn. She had a pained expression on her face, like she was tired and walking on a busy street was the last thing she wanted to do. She walked slowly and quite miserably and I knew life had not been kind.

I saw two girls in their twenties riding their trendy Attila bike. Off to a gimik I could tell as they wore slinky lacy blouses, skinny jeans, full on make up, blow dried hair. The other girl's toes were painted liquid paper white nail polish with flower art colored black painted over it. I looked away.

Beside me on a small plastic table with small plastic chairs (the kind you normally see at children's parties), three young guys were playing cards and drinking ca phe sua da (black vietnamese iced coffee with sweet milk). They were noisy and happy, acting exactly like their age and oblivious to anything else but the little circle that they had.

In front of me the traffic started to move along and the endless line of people coming home from work rolled on in front of me. Suddenly a man breezes through a few feet away makes a dramatic wave then shouts at me, "Anh yeu em!!! (translation: "anh yeu" means I love you and "em" translates to young girl; said to someone whom the first person refers as younger than him/her like a sister, lover, or friend).

Well. I certainly could take I love you from a nameless -- and at the speed he was going -- almost-faceless stranger. Said in a different language, it was much better than being leered back home by construction workers for example and professed with a lasvicious "Ang ganda mo miss, I lab you."

But more than that, to be called "em" just when you are on the brink of the big three-oh and feeling weary, old and not any wiser, it gave me a sense of pathetic satisfaction and I cheered up. Just then, S came and I got on his bike and headed home happier and lighter by the minute as the cold Saigon wind hit my face and sent my hair all over the place. In my head, Supergrass's song Alright started to play: "We are young, we run green. Keep our teeth nice and clean, see our friends, see the sights..Feel alright..."

Love Trilogy*

"Anything less than mad, passionate, extraordinary love is a waste of time. There are too many mediocre things in life and love shouldn't be one of them." - from the movie, Dream For An Insomniac

Two of my closest guy friends are in love. And I mean disgustingly smitten, down and dirty, turned into a cheese ball in love. Imagine two macho guys who back in college who would be so astig in their own way, the other guys who weren't their friends just hated their guts. Come to think of it, they hated each other's guts. I was the wide-eyed girl (space) friend who would hear about their exploits and be witness to their dramas. They'd tell it to me straight like I was one of the guys. They'd send me green text joke messages that made me cringe (my boyfriend that time read one of them and launched into a great fit of jealousy saying no guy friend would send a friend a message like that if they weren't into them. Duh). But it was all in good fun; an honest to goodness clean friendship. Hanging out with them was always hilarious and with them around in that strange jungle called college, I felt safe cause I know they got my back. So this blog entry really is a tribute. To Superman and Crash, my two great friends who are in love. I am happy for them.

Superman is getting married end of this month to the girl of his dreams. In college, I met him in 2nd year when we became classmates for a subject. We were in the same group and we had to come up with a product or service to sell and make a marketing campaign for. The final presentation would take up a big portion of our grades in that subject. On to our first meeting, he was this really aggressive guy who spoke in a loud voice and started dominating the discussion like he was the leader. I hated his guts. When we started working on the project it was a surprise to me that we got along well and he agreed with all of my ideas (and made the rest of the group agree too, haha). The project was a success and our friendship went from then on and we would take the same subjects and scheds so we could hang out. That time he was sort of dating this girl named Cindy who was always half with him and half with her ex. Superman was pissed but was also into this girl so it went on for months (all this time he would be complaining about it but still be with her). He finally got tired of it and split up with her and cut cleanly even after her usual attempt to win him back. I heaved a huge sigh of relief and told him "Good decision" to which he retorts smugly, "I'm da man." He would then be in a series of infatuated moments with numerous girls and then we graduated from college and would get in touch every now and then. He was single for years and loving it. Until sometime ago when I saw him in friendster looking happy and in love. With this girl I also knew from college; they had met again after a few years and realized they were meant to be together forever. I wish I could be in his wedding; it would have been a great "full circle" moment to his life and our friendship. I can't wait to hear about his life in the next few years where I am sure it will be all good. To Superman, I wish you your happy ever after.

Now Crash, my friend, is a more complicated story. I remember clearly how he made himself known to me. Our teacher in this really hard subject called on him to recite(this teacher was known for emptying a class halfway to the term; students just preferred to wait for the summer term when she wouldn't be the teacher to retake that subject). See, Crash was never into studying. He looked at himself as an artiste-gamer-punk who was too cool for school. He stood up and tried to answer our teacher's questions, struggling until she told him he can look at the textbook if he needed a guide anyway hr questions weren't t be easily found. Which he did, and in his nervousness managed to tear the book and the class could hear the sound echoing in the room. I could hardly control laughing and that did not escape him. We were friends from then on. Our friendship wasn't always smooth - Crash was prone to drama and I had little patience for it. We would argue sometimes and I wouldn't be able to take his in-your-face angsty take on life and many times I'd walk out and not speak to him for days. We would make up effortlessly though and our friendship would be on track until a new argument would come up. It didn't help that we were both Virgos, both critical of ourselves and of others. He didn't like a lot of people and would be at odds with different characters back then. He got along better with girls because girls would somehow allow his dramatic inclinations. Crash to his own credit and in his own rough way I know cared for our friendship a lot. Through the years I have understood that his being crass, loud, and "mean" was just a shell. He really is soft inside and would stand by you at the worst of times. We would lose touch for some years entirely because of my fault (which he hasn't made me forget) as my boyfriend at that time was insanely jealous of him so that time I felt I "had" to keep my distance. I would come running back when that relationship ended, but because we had graduated and his shifts in the call center were erratic we didn't see each other a lot. We would keep the friendship going through YM, text, and phone. Shortly after I had started to date Lem, I met up with him and told him I may be in love and I think this is the one. He was his usual jovial and "mean" self, teasing me and not taking me seriously. Anyway I told him I won't disappear again to which he gave me a smirk (how typical). Crash would go out with a girl for 6 years, consider marrying her, but back out of it.I always felt 50-50 about that relationship as I didn't see so much passion spewing from him because of her(and he always was passionate). He dabbled at the thought of proposing to her but would take the excuse that he didn't have a ring yet to get out of it. Early this year (I think), he finally ended it and has since met the love of his life. The one who made him into a cheese ball, dedicating love songs and declaring in his blog notes to himself that say "love her, marry her, die for her". He has a different energy about him and he is not at all afraid to hear any ribbing or teasing from me when he sent me an email that says "crash is happy". To Crash, keep her, love her, make it last. I know you would.


They say love makes the world go round. The world has since turned cynical and jaded, and sometimes I can't help but be caught up in that cynicism too. Never mind that I have found my own warm place - on some occasions the rest of the world can make you question that all may be well now, but what about in the future? But when I hear of stories like these, it makes me believe again. That true love happens and stays, that there exists a warm place where one can rest and be loved passionately, faithfully and constantly.

*Title borrowed from a Red Hot Chili Pepper song of the same.

For Sale

I read this today in the news about a disgruntled citizen who tried to sell his country in ebay.

It's funny, but when you think of it, it strikes how deep a point he's making and how disgusted he must be.

"I wanted to attract attention," said Gerrit Six, the teacher and former journalist who posted the ad. "You almost have to throw rock through a window to get attention for Belgium."

I can imagine Flipinos collectively throwing a rock now in Malacanang and still not be given any attention by the one who sits there.

The Philippines for sale? Perhaps no disgruntled citizen will ever sell it on ebay (though you never know)but the government sure has been peddling it for years. From the time of Marcos (or way back!) until the present sticky and shameless president we now have.

It's saddening but really increasingly angering after all these years. When will it stop? Sale season is so over.

I Rode a Cab and it Was Rocking

"Sunshine in the rain, love is still the same, sunshine in the rain..." so goes the song inside the cab I took this morning. If I closed my eyes I could imagine myself in 1) a bus in EDSA listening to 90.7 Love Radio For Life 2)Lush in Ly Tu Trong St. surrounded by writhing bodies in red light dancing to "Lousy Songs Night". On this same night they will probably play that awful version of the Happy Birthday song; and 3) a jeep in EDSA listening to 90.7 Love Radio For Life. But so goes the music scene in Saigon and I'm not going to complain about it anymore.

The star in this blog entry is actually the cab driver. Many times I would catch him looking at me in the rear view mirror as though gauging my reaction about his music choice. From time to time he would press the CD player forward or backward (by the way, the CD was made up of maybe two other songs and the rest are a handful of remixes of the sushine in the rain song), adjusting the volume louder and still a little bit louder then looking at my reaction. Napaisip tuloy ko: should I keep fix an annoyed look so that he'd get the message and stop the song (kasi annoying naman talaga yung song)? Or should I humor him and bob my head to communicate that I'm so into it? I decided to bob my head ever so slightly just to test, but I couldn't go through with it without laughing. In Manila, cab drivers like to debate about politics and showbiz; in Singapore, they say cab drivers talk wayyy too much it's annoying, New York cabbies - we all know about them as they have been portrayed in so many movies as the aggressive, curse-a-minute, interesting, all-knowing creatures; in Vietnam, will cabbies here soon be known as cool dudes who listen to techno music and double up as Sirs-Mix-A-Lot? I highly doubt it, which makes this cab driver quite memorable. Is it a global requirement to possess some kind of stamp of character to become a cab driver? (Come to think of it, maybe cab drivers are a microcosm of the society they belong to. Filipinos in general like talking about politics and showbiz (especially their own), Singaporeans in general talk a lot and are very opinionated, New Yorkers, well we know about them, and Vietnamese - I am still learning everyday what they really are like and what sets them apart. It's worth thinking about I guess).

So far my experience with cab drivers in Saigon have been made up of 3 kinds: the one who cannot for the life of him understand the name of the street I am saying (even if I've said it many times to other people and they've understood me), the one who plays tricks with the meter OR tours you around, and the one who does his job quietly and decently as he (and everyone for that matter) should. This cab driver today was a first. And as for the song he picked? It was playing in my head the whole day.

Survivor: Vietnam

To survive the daily grind of Saigon life a girl just needs three main things: guts, tawad powers and survivor Tieng Viet (Vietnamese). Of the three, the most challenging is probably the last one. I like learning new languages and have dabbled with Japanese and Spanish sometime back in college when I first took up International Studies. But dammit, Tieng Viet is HARD! The words are easy enough to remember, but the language is tonal so if you don't get the pronunciation right, you'll know soon enough from the blank stares you'll be getting. But be patient, you will probably get it after 5 tries or so (and there's a chance that it's just me).

So here I am writing a post, of the select Vietnamese phrases you need to learn in case you swing this way sometime in the future (or swing again if you've been here already). Tieng Viet 101 anyone? Trust me, my kodigo is very much within reach. Hah.

1. "Xin Chao" - Hello, or can also double as goodbye; equivalent to 'Kamusta?' in Tagalog or in more popular and hip swardspeak, 'Heller!'. Say it with zest.

2. "Cam On" or "Xin Cam On" - means 'Thank You'; you may go further and say "Cam On nhieu" with nhieu translating to 'a lot' or 'very much'. Say it with a smile on your face.

3. "Xin Loi" - Sorry or Excuse me. Used if you want to pass by and someone is blocking your way or if you want to ask for permission to say something (no need to start with 'Your Honor' :p). On a grander scale, if you have offended someone use this phrase too. Works on many levels. Say it like you mean it.

4. "Khong heo" - 'I don't understand'. If you're Asian (and look like one), you will at one point or another be mistaken by the locals as one of their own. So this phrase comes in handy. Say it like you really regret not being able to understand.

5. "Toi La (your name/adjective here)" - Toi la means 'I am' so add your name afterwards or be creative and fill in with your choice adjective. Some suggestions: "dep" (beautiful), "khieu dam" (sexy), "dien khung" (crazy). Throw in some english words over it too, if the vietnamese word escapes you at that time. Chances are, they'll get your humor (or at least humor you). Say it with style ("loai").

6. "Sau!" - Liar, but meant in a teasing manner (unless you say it angrily of course). You may use it with people to whom you have some sort of friendly relationship already. Not quite appropriate to use with a client, but you can try if you really want to. Say it teasingly.

7. "Dung Lai" - means "Stop". When a waiter puts too much chili in your soup, or an overeager tindera tries to sell you stuff... or simply when your stop is there and you need to get out of the cab/bike, say 'Dung lai!' and say it commandingly.


Disclaimer:
These seven phrases will probably last you half a day and is not in any way suggested as strong enough to let you survive a trip to the doctor, the bank, the postal office, participate in discussions about politics, law or business. If you're a flirt, I'm sorry but this may still be limiting for you too (but I'm sure you'll find a way to up your ante, you expert). At best, you will survive a stroll in Pham Ngu Lao street. Other phrases for another day, overload never helped anyone. Notice how I say that to mask the very limited phrases I actually know. In short, naubusan na ako ng Vietnamese. :D

Xin Chao!

Reklamo ng Reklamo

By The Jerks



"Reklamo ng reklamo, sa hirap ng buhay dito
Kapwa pilipino, ikinahihiya mo
Masakit sa pandinig ko ang sinasabi mo
SIguro'y gusto mong maging Amerikano... reklamo ng reklamo,
tatay mong kalbo!"


The video quality is grainy and you can see the 70's Bistro logo behind them, proof that this is just another casual gig in that place "where you can be who you are". Sometime this year, the QC court upheld the complaints from residents along Anonas Street that filed a case to limit bands that play in 70's to play up to a certain decibel only (I forget, but why remember these things). Thus the place has now turned "acoustic" and no hard rock music is played. Not Paolo Santos-acoustic (thank god!) but that ruling takes away something from the place that has made it what it is for years. Thankfully, it has enough history to keep its charm.

Enjoy this, the message is still true today anyway. The perfect song to sing to that most infamous Manila Standard/People Asia "columnist" with bad writing and let's not even talk about her bigoted views.

As for me, it's nice music to listen to in this rainy day in Saigon. Brings me back to home. These Jerks are the only ones who rock (plugging: Rey-who-has-same-surname-as-me-but-is-way-greater, plays keyboards.)

P.S.
If you liked that, you'll probabaly like "Sayaw sa Bubog" too, here.