Buddies

Why the pineapple's leaves got mangled

The grazing vermin. A.k.a., Stinky.

My First Oldie

I CAN'T quite describe how I felt when I peered DOWN into the large square view finder. It was glassy, strangely ethereal and somewhat like peering into a magical window. And the knowing that the three pound little gadget in my hands was older than I, has had a life of adventures separate from me and REQUIRED NO BATTERIES just blew me away. Oh my God, I now have my first medium format, 6x6 cm camera, and I am in heaven.

Could it get any more hard core? It doesn't even have an ASA adjustment setting. I still need a light meter and I can use the one in my SLR camera while I search for an external one. But with this camera, it's just me, the light and the film. Miscalculations can not be "photoshopped". But when I get the perfect image I can blow it up without worrying about the image getting grainy, and there are no worries about "noise" as there are in digital images.

***

If there ever were spiritual retreats for photographers, I think a fully mechanical camera is the instrument of choice. Either that or a sun exposure process like the cyanotype would be ideal. An image process that leaves us little control, that is resistant to formulas for the perfect image, and has the capacity to produce bad images, but also astoundingly evocative "accidents". It's a metaphor for life. There isn't one ideal way to live a life. There aren't formulas and the standards of beauty and meaning are relative. Each life is unique. And when we embrace the concept that we are not always in control of the universe, sometimes beautiful, unique and magical things happen.

***

My first medium format (implies that I'm getting a second one) is an early model of the Yashica-Mat 124. It's a twin lens reflex camera (fondly called a TLR), meaning, well it has two lenses: the viewing lens and the taking lens. This is one of those cameras with a view finder that let's you peer into it looking down. I believe it's called a waist view. But the beauty of the medium format is that it takes larger negatives. More than twice the size of the 35 mm film that we're used to. The result is clearer enlargements and breathtaking detail (and if detail is important in your image, there still is the large format camera to consider). My camera yields a 6x6 cm image on the film. I like composing on a square frame and this is one more reason some photographers are infatuated with the format.

Check!

DEFENSE done. Went well naman. Didn't do much talking, really. My committee is a talkative bunch. Mas pinawisan pa ako during my MA English Studies defense where the ever mataray Q. E. was my reader/critic. Now on to my other deadlines. I swear, I'll probably feel empty and useless after Dec. 16 whenI'll have another degree under my belt but jobless.

Somewhat Toxic Tuesday

WELL, I met the job ap. deadline yesterday. Also finished printing my Strange Places photos, plus the project statement. Was able to relax with Grey's Anatomy DVDs last night. And today, it's thesis defense preparation. The weather has been mild, salamat. But my skin is getting itchy.

Yesterday I spent a lot of time going to different computer labs because some labs with scanners were being used by classes, others that were free had scanners that weren't working and the one room that had it all was the noisy video-editing room at the ITSS hub. Oh well. I got the job done. Must buy all the software I'll need for work while I can get the student discount. But then where is the money to buy that? Where?

Bangles Day

TODAY, I need to meet a job application deadline, as well as: 1) edit and print my photos for tomorrow's Photo 2 critique; and 2) prepare for my thesis defense tomorrow.

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...AAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

A Day Down Under

BEEN up and about since yesterday. Muscles no longer gelatinous. It's weird thinking about how I won't be in school anymore for spring.

Spent this morning in the underbelly of UMD taking pictures for my Photo 2 class. Nice stuff. Kind of creepy down there. Tunnels and tunnels of piping. There's even a small room with thick walls that can be used as a nuclear fall-out shelter, so says T. of Facilities Management. Will be back there again in a few minutes. I only really have 5 interesting shots.

***

Received a message yesterday from blockmate Sheila from my UP College of Fine Arts days. She's now a high power ad agency artist in Singapore. Poked around her blog and saw Tippi's site. Oh my, another blockmate. Brings back memories of long, lazy days on the penthouse floor of the UP Main Library Building; dropping pop bottles onto the mezzanine roof several stories down; the cute classmate who turned out to be gay; the shy boys who always sat at the back; my hands wounded from working with wires while making a gigantic face mask for the Lantern Parade; and Dranreb Belleza stealing my HB2 Staedler pencils. I was young, itching to transfer to J-school and fresh out of a Catholic all-girl high school. Pianist boyfriend. Making out in some dark corner near the engineering building. Late night choir rehearsals. Heavy bags of laundry brought home on weekends and all those Pantranco bus rides. Hay naku...

Bleah

WINTER is here. Sunday I stayed home all day, sick with a flu-ey stomach. Monday morning I woke up and there was snow and the sky was all gray. It's disorienting to fall asleep after a warm, snow-free fall day and to wake up with winter all over you.

Tummy trouble

BEEN sidelined by stomach flu as I finish chapter 5 of my thesis. It was not at all pleasant. I don't understand how the body can hurt so much on the signal of a bacteria or a virus. My body hurt like it did after a no-training 50-mile bike ride. I could only eat bananas for a day and I slept through most of it. it was nice though, being home and in bed with the cats. I caught up on some reading, when I could, and I played with Stinky, Orange, Loudness and Biter. Stinky was so sweet. And Orange was so cuddly. Loudness drooled on me and Biter just played. I think they were all glad I stayed home today.

Dodong Nemenzo

I JUST learned that my favorite University of the Philippines president, Dr. Francisco Nemenzo has been charged with rebellion by Pres. Aroyo and is being arraigned on Nov. 13. I wish I were home to show him my support. I'm sure Dr. Nemenzo is no stranger to politicians being upset with him: he was an activist during the Marcos dictatorship. But this charge really angers me because it is so ridiculous and it could mean life imprisonment for him.

7:30 a.m. @ the photolab

Libre ang Mangarap

LECHON. Pancit lug-lug. Sapin-sapin. Oh-my-effing-God-sisiiiiiiig. Fish balls. Manggang hilaw at bagoong. Adobong kangkong. Inihaw na talong. Buro. Bringhe. ISAW!!!!! Choco-vim (asa pa). Leche flan. Halo-halo. Ubeng halaya. Tokwa't baboy sa Cubao. Crispy crablets sa Iloilo. Bachoy sa Dumaguete. Moche. Tibok-tibok. Sinigang, sinangag, sinampalukan. Adobo sa Chocolate Kiss. Tapsilog sa Rodicks. Chicharon bulaklak. Boy Bawang. Tinapa. Tuyo. Inihaw na dalag. Paksiw na lechon.

Strange Thoughts at 1 AM

IT'S after midnight and I'm doing school stuff. Why am I thinking of Hong Kong? Anak ng tipaklong! I've only been there once. It wasn't even a happy-happy-joy-joy trip--just a dazed shopping spree. But why do I have this unexplainable desire to move there and work there for at least two years? The Peking goose is calling. All those machangs, egg drop soups and oh God dimsuuuuuuum. I feel faint.

I'm so homesick for Asia. I swear, the next major pleasure trip I'll take is any land that touches the South China Sea.

Campaigning in Duluthia

STATE elections are near. Even if you didn't care about it or weren't voting, you'd certainly know because of all the TV ads--dirty or not--that disrupt one's TV viewing experience.

I'm certainly not a voter here. I'm not American. But in the last two weeks I've actually shook hands with two candidates for secretary of state and stood within tsinelas-throwing distance of the Democratic candidate for governor (not that I had any reason to throw a tsineslas, much less carried around a pair). And all these instances, I felt something was missing.

I guess I'm just used to political campaigns, Philippine-style, where each candidate down to the lowly city councilor is always, yes, always accompanied by a bouncer or body-guard type person wearing fake Rayban shades, two or more people dressed in T-shirts displaying the candidate's face and carrying lots and lots of pamphlets and sample ballots. The higher the position, the more members of the entourage and the farther you actually see the candidate. There is usually a vehicle with a large megaphone wired to its top, blaring out the candidate's jingle. There's lots of waving at imaginary supporters. Often, the candidate has a flower lei around his neck. You know, those leis made of sampaguita and ylang-ylang blossoms, weighed down by strange looking medal made of banana leaves and more flowers. The kind you usually get from godmothers during graduation, or the Rite of First Communion.

There was one exception. I saw former presidential candidate Raul Roco at the Inquirer, just a week after he lost to Tita Glo. He was alone. He was MY president, and so I shook his hand and gave him a hug, saying I really wanted him to win.

***

Back to my story. No there were no entourages here in Duluth, nor campaign T-shirts. No bouncers. If anything, it felt like student council elections in UP where candidates sometimes campaign by themselves and approached individual people rather than only groups.

Encounter No. 1

I was waiting at the Solon Lobby with a student from Nigeria, a student from Khazakstan and Taryn, the pretty International Student office assistant. We were waiting for the car that would take us grocery shopping when in comes this well-dressed woman in a dress suite and a long black coat that looked obviously expensive. I thought she was just some well-coiffed parent going on one of theose many university tours that happen on campus every weekend. She looked lost and approached us, asking where Bohannon Hall was. This was when I noticed her American flag scarf. Naks naman! Medyo over naman itong ale, I thought. Kulang nalang i-tattoo ang bandila sa noo. Yun naman pala, she was Mary Kiffmeyer, the current Secretary of State in Minnesota and a Republican candidate. She shook everyone's hand and was handing out pamphlets. When she got to me, to save her the trouble, I said, "Thank you, but I'm not a citizen."
"Oh, where are you from?" she said.
"The Philippines."
"I used to go to school with a Filipino woman called Aida and she made such good pancit and she was actually a nurse at the top of her career but had to go back to school when she came to America."
Somehow I doubted this woman ever ate or ever really liked pancit. She looked a little on the delicate side. You know, the kind that would break out in an angry red rash or bumpy hives after eating extremely salty little baby shrimps ( an important ingredient in pancit) or fish sauce (a secret ingredient in pancit and paired with calamansi, not lemon). And frankly, I didn't really care if this Ayda person thought going back to school was the pits. I love school! I should be a professor, except I don't really care to get myself a PhD right now.
I just smiled and said "Good luck on election day!"
She beamed and looked very pleased with herself. Then she semi-hugged Mr. Nigeria and said, "See you at the polls son!"
Mr. Nigeria's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. We had a good laugh until our ride came.

Encounter No. 2: Kiffmeyer's opponent, Mr. Whatshisface

Ok, so there I was at the cafeteria bent over a pile of interview transcripts and working on my thesis draft. I was in psychotic mode, a shell-shocked blend of thesis anxiety, deadline paranaoia and stress catatonia (I'm not even sure there's such a word). I saw a suit hovering and flitting from table to table, cornering hapless undergraduates in mid-chew. You know, those lost souls who have no where to go and no one to hang out with on a Friday afternoon. The suit was at the table beside mine, and so I scattered more thesis things on my table and hunched over my computer until my spine and my neck formed one elegant arch connecting my brain to my LED screen. Formidable-looking, intense creature was I. You learn a thing or two from pet cats. And still the suit sat down at my table.

He introduced himself. God, I don't even remember his name. "It's nice to meet you," I said. "But I'm not American, and so I'm not a voter."

"Yes, and you should not vote because you might go to jail!"

Ha? Ano? Saan naman galing yon? And while I searched my brain for a witty response that would leave a dent but not get me deported, he said "You know, I had a Filipino classmate once, I forgot her name."

Aarggghhhhh! What? Did they all have Filipino classmates and have had pancit or adobo? Like I cared. I almost said, I'm sure you did. But I didn't. I just said, "Well wherever she is now, I hope she's doing important things in her community, just as you are." And I meant this, because he was, anyway, a Democratic candidate and I kind of like them better than Republicans. Republicans like that Macaca-fellow.

"So what are you working on?" he said.

"Oh, my thesis."

"What's your course?"

"Environmental Education"

"That's a good one."

"Yeah, I like to think so." He seemed to relax at this point, perhaps because I wasn't a voter. Just an observer. He slumped his shoulders and leaned back. At that moment, he almost seemed like a fellow graduate student with a major deadline looming over his head. He looked too young for the dark suit he was wearing and he looked tired and just a little lost. Like he would rather be wearing a sweatshirt that moment and be hanging out at Starbucks instead of handling out pamphlets.

"Good luck on election day," I said and I smiled a sympathetic smile. He said thank you, took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and moved to the next table.

Friday on the Verge of Winter

THERMOMETER reading at 7 a.m. was -4 degrees Celsius. Crap. It's getting colder. Soon it will be too cold to wear normal shoes when I walk to and from school. Will be wearing that new pair of hiking boots. Something to look forward to, I think.

Yesterday was strange. At the end of the day, on the walk home, I just felt like crying. I thought about All Saints Day in the Philippines and how I stopped taking part in the yearly cemetery festivities when my family left for the US. I thought about how our family home in AC didn't feel like home anymore. I also missed my friends in the Philippines. I missed hanging out with the choir. I missed Ouie, and Gina, and Lu-ann and Dona and Lolit and Riza. I missed fishballs and leche flan. This all felt all to raw all of a sudden. It kind of hit me like a tsinelas from out of the blue. And today, this morning, I think it must have been my period.

It's unpleasant sometimes, the way my hormones hi-jack me and take over. I'm just glad it happened at the end of the day. After my Photo 2 class report. After my shift at the photo lab. I'm glad it happened while I was along and didn't result in me being rude or short with someone. Dang. Hormones are weird.

***

It's not that I did not genuinely miss all those people I missed or genuinely felt a pang of homesickness. I just think my monthly hormone hijacks just take away that layer of control or patience that I usually need to function normally during the day.

But tonight, I should light a candle for my dead.

I've been referred!

I got my first photo assignment referral today. I'm so happy about this. It actually comes at a crazy, busy time. But who cares! Life is too short. I'll squeeze this in.