Duluth Days

Last posting on Duluth Days

2007-01-18T14:06:00.000-06:00

IT'S time to retire this blog. It doesn't quite feel right anymore. These days are all about a new beginning, learning new skills, charting a new path. I am still on literal and figurative house cleaning mode. I thought this bog was one of the things I could keep, with a little cleaning, redesigning and tweaking. Alas, Duluth Days need to come to an end.

I end here with familiar words from a familiar story:

Space. The final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise. It's five -year mission. To explore strange new worlds. To seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go where no man has gone before.

:)

Moving on

2007-01-13T19:06:00.000-06:00

I HAVEN'T felt like writing in this blog since, well, since the new year started. In many ways, I have already left Duluth. I associate it with the EnEd program, with resting a bit after many busy years working in Manila. The last two semesters though, I have been feeling a growing restlessness. UMD pales in comparison with UP Diliman. There are no rallies. There are no Lantern Parades, no painted streets, no fiery brilliant professors (though there are some professors who are brilliant, but just not fiery). There are no exciting student events. And the campus is just too goddamn empty during summers. Lastly, I associate it with a certain sense of academic dullness that I can't quite explain right now. I'm going to go out and say it: getting good grades here was just too easy. Some of my professors had standards that were not high enough compared to the brain searing (and invigorating) classes I've attended at UP and at the Asian Institute of Management. While there are professors who appreciate students who give more or want more out of a class, there are also professors who feel intimidated by students who may actually have better comprehension and analytical skills than they might have. Such is the problem with small towns. Or maybe it's just my program. I certainly did not feel this dullness in my photography classes.

I just can't wait to get out of here and return to the world of meaningful work and getting paid a non-student salary.

hmmm

2006-12-29T08:46:00.000-06:00

It's snowing.

Out with the old

2006-12-27T21:26:00.000-06:00

THIS happens to me every last week of December. I clean, I throw away odd assortments of useless things I've accumulated over the year, thinking they might be useful someday. I erase files. I make copies, I make back-ups. I sweep like my life depended on it. And, I change my blog design.

There will be other changes too. I won't be in school next semester. I've graduated. Who knows what I'll do with a second masters degree. I'll be on my own the next few weeks sending off job applications, maybe holding a temporary, but interesting "pang-pocket money" kind of job. Suddenly, I will not be part of an official community. This means I'll have to creep back into the other communities I chose to ignore while I was tearing a path towards thesis completion: the church choir, maybe the larger symphony choir. The only sort of structure I see I'll be having will be the thrice of four times a week fitness class.

It's scary. I have no idea what's to become of me. I only have high hopes, darn good skills, and a thicker hide.

2006-12-19T10:01:00.000-06:00

Hawak Kamay

THESIS defended, revised, bound and submitted. Other classes done. Just waiting for grades and woohoo my diploma. Strangely though, work isn't done yet. I still have three days worth of student work finishing up a webpage. Did my Christmas shopping already, plus the wrapping and mailing of goodies. But I really wish I had these next three days to myself. Okay lang. Kaunti na lang and I can veg.

This mp3 of The Abominable O Holy Night has cheered me up though. Be sure to listen until the very end. I've also belatedly followed Pinoy Dream Academy in large part because I read about it in Jim Paredes' blog. I really like Yeng's composition "Hawak Kamay". Medyo melodramatic and syrupy yung music video but nadadala naman ng kanta.

Miming

2006-12-12T23:34:00.000-06:00

You are invited

2006-12-06T12:48:00.000-06:00

If you can make it, please come :)

The Experience of Visitor-Wildlife Interactions
in Theodore Roosevelt National Park
A seminar presentation by Natasha Vizcarra
Monday, December 11, 2006
4 p.m. @ Sports & Health Center Room 212

Abstract

The purpose of this study was to explore the nature of the experience of visitor-wildlife interactions and describe meanings that visitors attribute to the experience. Seven participants of an outdoor leadership class held at Theodore Roosevelt National Park were interviewed on-site using a semi-structured and open-ended format. Transcripts of the interview were analyzed using qualitative reduction and a second reader was consulted for validity.

Results of the study yielded a four-component description which characterizes the experience according to the animals’ attributes, the interaction, the visitor, and the habitat. Results also yielded seven themes of meanings that visitors attribute to their interaction with wildlife, namely novelty; awe; escape from the day-to-day; self-reflection; power, vulnerability and respect; the negotiation of space; and symbolism.

Kissed by the Snow Queen

2006-12-06T09:41:00.000-06:00

OKAY, so maybe snow isn't all that bad. Yesterday, I had one of those moments Oprah might call "aha", Ricky Reyes might call "ahahahay", and childhood friend Jay Policarpio might respond to as "shet na malagket".

Warm and tingly from a hour of step aerobics, I rushed to my locker dreading the walk home. I was anticipating it to be as cold and uncomfortable as my morning walk to school. I also wasn't too keen on walking in the dark (there have been reports of overzealous Mormons who might try to convert you right there on the sidewalk).

And so I put on all the clothing and gear that I had put on this morning. I got a customary amused look from a local lady when she passed my locker. Well, kebs, di ba? I'd rather look overdressed than die of hypothermia. Besides, I have the perfect excuse: "Um, obviously I'm not from around here."

When I got outside, it wasn't all that cold. The temperature had dropped and I realized that that now I really was overdressed.

Kebs.

Toasty in my snowpants and coats and looking slightly blimpy, I crossed the street onto the UMD parking lot. It was snowing lots. Not lightly, not heavily, but lots. Also the snow wasn't wet and icky. It was powdery. Almost like shredded styrofoam. Or very light salt. Or extra white dandruff. The parking lots had these tall bright lamposts and I found myself stopping under one of them to look up. And there it was. That moment. Everything was so still and quiet I could hear flakes land with soft "plicks" on my coat. I don't know if it was the step aerobics adrenaline coarsing through my veins or the fact that I was kinda hungry for dinner, but I was suddenly aware of the snow's glinty qualities. The word "beautiful" doesn't do justice to it. Maybe a word that combines beautiful, awesome, mystical, mysterious, serene, humbling, swirly, glinty, still, quiet, cooooool, and oh my God would suffice. But there isn't such a word, at least in my limited knowledge of world languages.

I loved my walk home last night. Man, the earth is such an awesome organism.

It's Snowing

2006-12-05T09:43:00.000-06:00

SNOW. Bleah. Minus 10 degress Celcius outside. Will need to wear snow pants walking to school. No use bringing the truck. Won't find parking anyway. Add one more hour to travel time. Extra hour for:

-putting on snow pants and sweater
-putting on wool socks and hiking shoes
-attaching extra traction to hiking shoes (icy sidewalks kasi)
-putting on winter coat, hat, gloves and scarf
-adjusting backpack strap
-walking, er waddling to school more slowly
-getting to my locker
-taking off snow pants and sweater
-taking off wool socks and hiking shoes
-taking off extra traction to hiking shoes (icy sidewalks kasi)
-taking off on winter coat, hat, gloves and scarf
-storing all extra winter clothing in locker

Yeah!

2006-12-04T09:57:00.000-06:00

BOLTON steps down.

No one was looking, eh

2006-12-04T09:20:00.000-06:00

First Tree Cut

2006-12-04T08:26:00.000-06:00

THERE is a balsam fir in our living room. My first "real" Christmas tree. It stands tall and its tip is a foot away from the ceiling. It's a leany tree. We didn't have the proper base for it. So, for now its home is the orange Home Depot bucket we've filled with water and it leans on the corner of our living room where the TV used to be.

I like our tree. It's a friendly tree. But I guess I am still partial to the plastic Christmas tree of my youth.

***

The authentic Pinoy Christmas tradition is the parol, the star lantern. But, in addition to that, I grew up with our plastic Chrismas tree and grew up anticipating the gifts that would appear under it during Christmas.

I remember us buying the tree from SM Cubao. I must have been 7 or 8 years old. I have vague memories of another tree. An aluminum one with sparkly, foil-type leaves. Very 70s. It must have been trashed. Which was why we came home from Cubao one day with a 6-foot box of Christmas spirit. My dad and I were put in charge of putting it together after All Saints Day and putting it away by January. When I grew older, it became my sole responsibility.

I don't know what has become of my plastic tree. I assume it's still in our Culiat home, now my sister's home. Or it might have been sold by her no-good boyfriend.

***

It's a strange experience seeing the origins of a tradition you thought was yours. Here in Duluth, or maybe the rest of the US, getting a fake tree during Christmas is like not going to the cemeteries during All Saints Day. It's sacrilege. It happens, yes. But it's weird and non-traditional. (I have, by the way, never been to a cemetery during All Saints Day since 1996.) The practice of going into the woods to chop down a tree is a cherished childhood Christmas tradition. There is always, of course, the pre-chopped tree that can be purchased from the grocery store or at the mall. But these are real trees too. Not plastic. Not fake.

When C. and I arrived at the edge of Boulder Lake for the community tree cut, there were families with their children. Men with large saws, too big really to cut trees that are only 5 inches across at the base. C. and I brought a small wood saw. And after saying hello to my grad school cohorts (they were in charge of the program), we walked north to look for our balsam fir.

Crunching along in the new snow, we would stop once in a while to examine potential candidates. Some trees were the right height, but not leafy enough. Kind of nekkid. Some were leafy but too tall. Some looked perfect but were not the right kind of tree. Every once in a while, I would hear laughter or hoots in the woods. I could see Christmas. But it wasn't my Christmas. I could see it in C. as he scanned the woods for our tree with a childish excitement in his eyes.

I thought, so this is the Christmas tree tradition. Mine was just a copy. Really fake. In keeping with many Filipino things that are borrowed from the US. I felt that my Christmas memories had been cheapened somewhat. All along, I had a Christmas tree, but here was the real Christmas tree.

Serves me right for having a parent who worked at an American Air Base. I wished that I had been in charge of a parol instead of a plastic tree. We never even got a Capampangan parol. You know, the kind with the crazy, swirly lights. Or the delicate but beautiful parol made of capiz. I never experienced making one myself.

I felt bad for me and my fake tree. My childhood Christmas tradition was a plastic imitation, and I am a Filipino with a Russian name.

The Dodge

2006-12-03T16:08:00.000-06:00

I FEEL embarrassed for two of my committee members. It's very obvious--to me at least--that they merely skimmed through my drafts of chapter 4 and 5. Perhaps because they have such busy schedules or perhaps because that is the full extent of their critical reading skills.

My one female committee member on the other hand has concise and insightful comments. Often, she brings up points in my draft that I have wondered about or worried about myself. I know and I am sure she has read my draft thoughtfully and responsibly.

I sit there and I think to my two male committee members, 'Tut-tut!' I've done that dodge before as a graduate student in English studies. In my Feminist Literary Criticism class to be exact, where we had to read one or two novels a WEEK. I have also seen the dodge too many times when I was a reporter. Seen it from politicians, lawyers and policemen when asked direct questions they obviously had to answer but did not want to answer.

I have also had the good fortune to have the sharpest readers as professors in the University of the Philippines; the late Franz Arcellana, Butch Dalisay, Jing Hidalgo. And of course, I've had the sharpest readers as editors, unflinching journalists who attack a draft with such glee: Chato Garcellano, Letty Magsanoc and yeah, ok, those other male editors.

So, here, I don't know if my two male committee members have an idea how much they are failing in my eyes. It hits me. Well, what would I expect from a non Ivy-league school? Excellent professors do exist in UMD. But so-so, run-of-the mill state college level professors also exist here. And they were sitting right in front me.

Suddenly, mas lalong bumango ang UP sa akin. Hey Third World doesn't mean third world in education excellence. Linchak! Mas maraming magaling na profs sa UP kesa sa UMD.

Buddies

2006-11-28T11:02:00.000-06:00

Why the pineapple's leaves got mangled

2006-11-28T10:29:00.000-06:00

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

My First Oldie

2006-11-28T08:43:00.000-06:00

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!

2006-11-22T08:07:00.000-06:00

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

2006-11-21T08:42:00.001-06:00

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

2006-11-20T08:40:00.000-06:00

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.

....

...

...

...AAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

A Day Down Under

2006-11-17T12:40:00.000-06:00

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

2006-11-14T15:34:00.000-06:00

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

2006-11-13T23:53:00.000-06:00

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

2006-11-09T22:55:00.000-06:00

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

2006-11-09T10:03:00.000-06:00

Libre ang Mangarap

2006-11-06T14:41:00.000-06:00

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

2006-11-06T01:07:00.000-06:00

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

2006-11-03T14:55:00.000-06:00

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

2006-11-03T08:58:00.000-06:00

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!

2006-11-01T09:20:00.000-06:00

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.

A Game called Kudos & the American Definition of Success

2006-10-16T13:44:00.000-05:00

YESTERDAY, because my brain needed a serious break from academic and seriously conceptual work in my photo classes, I decided to play some computer games. I know, I know. This counts as procrastination. But, and I don't quite know why, sometimes playing blindly until I'm sick of a game actually helps me get back to my other tasks. I could be deluding myself. But it is respite. And as long as I delete the game after a session of play, I can safely "not" play it again.

And so, last night I was playing this Yahoo! game called Kudos. It's a simulation of social interaction/success. You create a character, decide on his or her general disposition and then make decisions for him on a daily basis. What intrigued me was that, while creating the character, the game's formula was based on the rule that the more intelligent a character is, the less happy he or she is going to be.

Hmmmmm...

I created character X, a hardworking waitress who wants to be a doctor someday. Character X attended night classes after her restaurant shifts and went out with friends at least once a week. But even as her pay scale rose, she stayed poor and friends eventually left her for other friends. What was curious too was that the game had no family element. It assumed that all characters lived away from family and id not interact with family at all. Character X eventually became a doctor, but was judged by the game as a failure because, well, she did not party with more than two friends at least four times a week.

Next I created character Y, the total opposite of character X. This one was male, erhm, white and partied with at least four friends all days of the week. He was a waiter and did not attend college, and for a while had no intention of becoming anything else than a waiter. And so, I ask, why did character Y earn more money than character x, despite the nightly parties and pizza and beer?

The game bothered me. First because I was character X. I did not want to be a doctor, but I'm build from the same mold. The person who loves books, who wants to be learning all her life, who is actually in a good profession she loves and would rather be wih a small circle of close friends than a melee of acquaintances.

Second, I had seen this social model elsewhere in this country. I've seen it in its crudest form in high school story movies where to be a geek was as worse as being a minority. These kinds of movies always feature the social battleground called the school cafeteria where sitting alone was one of the worst things. Whenever I see this scene, I wonder if it is true and if most American adults had experienced this. And after this, I think to myself how lucky I've been to grow up in the Philippines, where childhood is childhood and our teenage years aren't plagued with such an intense pressure to be popular or to be liked.

Thirdly, I wonder if this is the social framework I will have to deal with should I decide to work here for a while. To be fair, I haven't been in a work situation where I've seen a similar social dynamic. I guess that's party because I move within academe, within artistic communities, where most of us are like character X.

But what bothers me most about the game is not anything that has to do with me. If I have a child and if I raise that child in this country, that is the social battleground that will be waiting for her. I am almost sure. Almost positive. Maybe even if I were rich enough to send her to a private Catholic school. I think of this, and I wonder if my high school friends, who are married and with children, think of this.

If I can manage it, I'd like to raise my children elsewhere where there is no threat of other children carrying guns into school premises. Where that concept is inconceivable. Where my child will not be discriminated on just because she is darker and has dark hair. Where there is no question about her right to be happy. I would like to raise my children in Asia where childhood is gentle and innocence is enjoyed. Where the cafeteria is a place to eat, trade jokes and spot crushes, and not a place to get emotionally scarred.

Buryong sa Niebe

2006-10-13T22:41:00.000-05:00

ANAK ng tinapa tsaka tipaklong. It's winter na...naman. Yup, two or was it three days ago, my nose started bleeding, then an hour later, right on cue it started snowing. Syempre deny to death ang beauty ko. I even walked to school without my short, large and ugly magenta winter coat. Summer is over, fall flew right by me and here now is winter and all I can do is sneer at it. Maybe if I ignore it, it will pass through really fast. Asa pa ako.

The weird thing is, I don't really feel as cold as I got during my first two winters here. Dati, fall pa lang, sagad na sa buto ang lamig. Ngayon, kebs. C. says I'm getting used to the climate, and I say "Ha? Ano? No ispeaking Inglish! No habla ingles. Isch veus nicht! Taskete! Taskete! Eigo wa nan desu ka? Tabalu, edaca aintindyan."

Aherm...

2006-10-05T10:19:00.000-05:00

MY blogging life is suffering because of school schedules and other life events. Last few months before I am over and done with (hopefully), with THIS masters degree. So, my days and nights are packed with writing and shooting photos and editing and reading and lots of staring into space. I've also started a project blog somewhere else, just to help me keep track of how my concept evolves in my photodocumentary project. I thought of skipping a few choir rehearsals, but then changed my mind. Meetings are only twice a week and just last a little more than an hour. Rehearsals start promptly and pieces are learned efficiently. So, maybe I'll stay.

La Lang

2006-10-01T20:16:00.000-05:00

Stained glass art at the church where I'm a new choir singer.

I Lab d Photo Lab

2006-09-22T21:05:00.000-05:00

I went on my first shift as photo lab tech this evening. I kind of like taking care of the lab. I can't explain it. Maybe it's the large rubber apron, the big goggles, and the large rubber gloves I get to wear when changing chemistry. And maybe the fact that I can kick other students out of the darkroom, haha!

Hmmmm...

2006-09-22T20:48:00.000-05:00

Got this from Xiaowei:

American Cities That Best Fit You::

60% Boston

60% Los Angeles

60% Washington, DC

55% Chicago

55% Honolulu

Which American Cities Best Fit You?

Chipmunk Channel

2006-09-22T00:18:00.000-05:00

Annan is right

2006-09-20T13:27:00.000-05:00

From a USATODAY Article

"But the secretary-general said too many people are still exposed to brutal conflict, and the fear of terrorism has increased a clash of civilizations and religions. Terrorism is being used as a pretext to limit or abolish human rights, and globalization risks driving richer and poorer peoples apart, he said. "

Best Japanese Food in Duluth

2006-09-04T08:51:00.000-05:00

THERE used to be only one place to get Japanese food in Duluth: Wednesdays at the Fitgers Hotel restaurant. And when we tried their sushi, we wanted to cry, not from joy but from self-pity. The makis and sushis and sashimis brought to us would have made a Japanese sushi chef commit hara-kiri. They were sloppy, looked crude and had too many of those green, plastic decorative wrappers all over the plate. Still, we couldn't complain (too loudly). We were lucky to even find sushi in Duluth.

Now we have Zen House, a little Japanese restaurant attached to a SPUR gas station way out on Haines Road near the mall area. We couldn't believe our luck. Not only did they have sushi, sashimi, makis and donburi dishes, they also had green tea, Sapporo beverages and soba! Best of all, the owner is Japanese. So none of those bland Americanized Asian dishes.

For our first visit, we ordered makis and sushis. We also had some miso soup, green tea and the Fresh raw tuna and avocado salad (yummy but the serving is tiny). They were O.K. The rice was kind of dry and the fish was cut in a weird, wide kind of way. Still, it was better than the Fitger's sushi. I know, I know. Why even complain? But after having had excellent sushi in Manila and the best sushi in Tokyo, it's hard not to nitpick.

Make no mistake, we will be back. The summer menu will end soon and the winter menu features suki-yaki, another favorite of mine. I also want to try their donburi dishes, as well as their sobas and tempuras.

Zen House Japanese restaurant is located at Haines Road corner Maple Grove. Tel. no. (218) 722-9365. Check out their menu here.

Seen on 4th Street

2006-08-29T07:26:00.000-05:00

Saw a grotesquely large sunflower in a small community garden. It's head was so monstrous I just had to take a picture. Got a few amused stares from two people, but hey, I'm not from around here really. I'll get more stares this fall again when I'll feel the need to dress as if it were already winter.

As I was saying, I found the sunflower near the 4th Street entrance to the Chester Park Hiking Trail. The little 6 by 6 foot square of community flower garden wasn't one of the better ones I had seen around the city. It looked forgotten and somehow dusty. I felt just a little bad treating the sunflower like a circus freak.

***

To my understanding these gardens are cared for by neighborhood volunteers, usually a garden society. At the beginning of spring or summer, they get together to plant flowers in several parks and little garden nooks all around the city. Soon, these little nooks become bursts of color.

It amuses me sometimes to think about how passionate the locals are about their gardens. When I go for walks I often see couples, sometimes just the man or woman of the house and sometimes even college roomates puttering around with little shovels and trowels in their front yards. There are special gardening gloves, little stools, special plant food and fertilizers. Even special gardening bags and trays.

It amuses me because back home, people don't spend much time or money on gardens. I remember my mom would sometimes plant tomatoes or go to gardening stores to buy potted plants. But any sort of regular gardening activity in the Philippines consisted mostly of standing around with a water hose in hand and gossiping with the neighbors. The really nice looking gardens in rich naighborhoods are often cared for by house help or hired gardeners and are mostly decorative. Only the the passionate orchid collectors tend to their own gardens. I also think we tend to take gardening for granted because plants did not need much coaxing to grow. My childhood is full of memories of picking avocados and atis in the rainy season, indian mangoes, chicos, guyabanos and aratilles during summer. Guavas were there for the picking year round. I marked the seasons by the fruits I could pick.

In a parallel sense, time here in Duluth is marked by the precious three or four month that flowers can survive. Perhaps that is part of the thrill and the excitement and I guess the wistfulness in flower gardening. Flower, in all their delicate, exquisite, beauty are nothing less than an appreciation or celebration of a season of sun. By the time the season of fall arrives, gardens wilt away, leaves and bushes turn from green to gold, to yellow.

I find it difficult to let go of summer here in Duluth, probably because back home it feels like it's summer more than half the year. I agree that fall is beautiful, and winter has it's own mystique. But these days I feel a mild panic when I see trees and bushes that are starting to turn. I feel a strange compulsion to protest the snow and steady approach of winter.

Clearly, I need to leave Duluth as soon as my studies are over.

Found in the fruit aisle

2006-08-28T20:44:00.000-05:00

Blue Funk

2006-08-24T14:11:00.000-05:00

ONE of three noun definitions of the word funk from the online Webster dictionary describes it as "a: a state of paralyzing fear; b : a depressed state of mind". I can't explain the fog that has decended on me these past few days. I am restless and the thought of the approaching Fall semester is making me anxious.

I can only guess that the shorter days and the colder wind have something to do with it. Yesterday, I was wearing jeans and a white cotton blouse and I was so cold outside. I had to dig out my formless, fashionless, gray fleece sweater so I could spend two hours photographing in the UMD Rain Garden.

As we have been wont to do this whole summer, C. and I have kept all windows in the apartment open. But last night, I shut about half of them. I also began to wear my flannel pajamas again. This morning, I noticed that the bushes in our backyard are showing yellowing leaves here and there.

It is inevitable and inescapable. We are now shifting from summer to fall and my tropical islander soul is screaming and wailing.

Yeah, yeah, my Duluth friends have told me again and again, "embrace winter! Snow is good!" Sinverguenza! ika nga ni Lola Aguida. Winter is a depressing season and statistics prove it (and I won't bother looking for the stats that say there are more suicides during winter months). There has got to be an easier way to get through winter.

2006-08-21T14:56:00.000-05:00

Wide Open Spaces ~ Dixie Chicks

I love this song.

Alien in the Garden

2006-08-15T09:29:00.000-05:00

"E.T." was my all-time favorite movie in grade school. But I could never appreciate or understand why Spielberg made the alien a botanist. To me this seemed like the most unexciting occupation for a space explorer. Why not make him a geologist or a cartographer?

Thinking about it now, I am not surprised that I was not impressed. I never saw myself possessing a green thumb. My only experience with the leafy kind was watering the class plants whenever it was my turn to be "cleaner". I was always envious of the boys who hacked at the earth with their small shovels and hoes in the little garden behind the grade school building. All we girls ever did during "Work Education" was sew, cook, paste things together, weave and sew once more. Any chance for me to become a botanist was squashed by our grade school curriculum.

Now, here I am taking pictures of plants and scrambling to identify them using the mighty oracle (the internet) and three thick plant guides. Crash course, ika nga. This is work that I do for measely student wages, but I am learning a lot. I take pictures of the rain garden plants all summer, catalogue them, identify them and am learning how to put them together in a website. It's an intimidating task, considering I never bothered to take any any Biology or Botany classes in college. But I am surprising myself by enjoying the work.

Plants have interesting and majestic scientific names pala. Take for example Aronica melanocarpa (Black Chokeberry), or Eupatorium maculatum (Joe Pyeweed). Some of them sound like the musica sacra pieces I used to sing in choirs in Quezon City. See, these are songs: Ubi caritas, Et misericordia, Fecit potentiam, Ave verum corpus. And these are plants: Viburnum trilobum, Geranium maculatum, Carex stricta. They kind of sound alike sa unang dinig and, well, if you did not take an elective course in Latin.

Some plant names sound like a disease, like Aster simplex (what you get when you sleep with a loose woman called Aster, or Aster umbellatus (sex with Aster's umbrella?). *Shudder * Or they sound like a neurosis, like Atennaria neglecta (what happens when rich parents neglect their Atenean kids). And some plants make me wonder about the hobbies of those who named them. Take for example Panicum virgatum "Heavy Metal" (common name Switchgrass). Ano raw? Could this be the panic one botanist felt after the booze buzz wore off and he realized that he deflowered a teenager picked up from a heavy metal concert?

Learning about these Minnesota plants makes me regret not knowing much about plants in the Philippines. I can't even name the plants I played with as a child. I wonder what the Makahiya is really called. How does it do that? You know, recoil when touched? It's an amazing plant. Nakakahiya that don't know much about the makahiya. Note to self: kidnap a botany major when you go home to Quezon City.

***

If you're interested, check out the pictures of plants I've successfully indentified so far.

If you're wondering what the UMD Rain Garden is, check here.

Best Diner in Duluth

2006-08-14T11:57:00.000-05:00

Uncle Loui's Cafe
520 E. 4th St., Duluth, MN 55807
Tel. (218) 727-4518

I HAVE written about Uncle Loui's Cafe in a past post, but I want to write about it again because now I have pictures! C. and I had breakfast there this weekend. I ordered my usual: corned beef hash with eggs and a pancake this time (still too much for me) and C. ordered the biscuits, potatoes and gravy with a side order of bacon.

It was, as usual, a busy weekend morning for the staff of Uncle Loui's. All the booths were occupied and at the counter, only one or two seats were vacant. Every 15 minutes or so, new customers seem to be arriving and people finished with breakfast walking over to the counter to pay for their food. A guy seated to my left ordered a heaping plate of pancakes topped with strawberries and whipped cream.

This is diner food. American diner food, to be more precise. The servings are large, the food is greasy and carb and sugar loaded and is enough to feed a family of five in the Philippines. I go to diners because I don't like fastfood chains and I want to support small business owners. I go because it's a cultural experience. But I can't go too often because I don't need the extra pounds. There is one other diner in Duluth that we've explored. This one had an older clientelle. The customers looked mostly retired. They also looked like the human characters that populate "The Far Side" cartoon by Gary Larson. Maybe it was the far side. It was certainly the far side of Duluth. Maybe I stumbled into Gary Larsons squiggly universe. Unforunately, I can't go back. Last time we went by there was a huge "closed" sign on the door and the place seemed to have been cleared of furniture.

Uncle Loui's Cafe has a younger crowd: college-aged kids, young couples with their young families, mixed in with older customers. It seems to be managed not by a guy named Loui but a woman named Penny. I suspect the woman with short, red hair must be Penny. She has a commanding presence. You know she's in charge of the kitchen, or at least the serving. She remembered that C. prefers tabasco with his eggs and she has a very pleasant manner. I haven't had the chance to ask if she is indeed the famed Penny who will pay for your meal if you break the pancake record (8 pancakes is the current number to beat). Maybe when we go eat at St. Loui's again, I'll remember to ask.

Lakeheads

2006-08-11T08:13:00.000-05:00

I KNOW I whine a lot about winters here in Minnesota. But if it weren't for that, I enjoy living in the state. The official motto is that Minnesota is the land of 10,000 lakes. As a person who grew up in the land of 7,100 islands, this statistic is not so bad.

Minnesotans are "lake heads". Almost everyone has a boat, a canoe or a kayak. Rarely are there places where you can rent these. On the Interstate 35, vehicles that aren't pulling a boat-loaded trailer are the exceptions. Driving through seemingly deserted county roads, the stretches are punctuated by gas stations and fishing supply stores. Diners proudly proclaim "Fishermen welcome", meaning they open in the butt-crack of dawn.

August is Funky

2006-08-10T11:06:00.000-05:00

OI...Reading the news these past few days has been giving me headaches. First, there was Gloria Arroyo's Supermaids idea (hindi talaga ma-take ng kokote ko). Now there's this recent terror threat in London.

I love traveling. I don't like long, transcontinental airplane trips. They numb my butt and make me feel groggy days after the trip. But I bear with these because I like visiting new places. I like the idea that there are other realities out there that are so different from mine. I like incorporating these realities in my world view. I love to watch, to observe, to try different kinds of cuisine and learn about how other cultures spend their days.

But this, this nakakainis na war between the US, Britain et al versus whomever (I'm not really sure anymore who their enemies are). This impaktong pangyayari that affects all other countries na wala namang kinalaman, hay nako. Nakakaimbiyerna.

Two jobs I'm considering applying for are based in DC. This is making me think twice about them. I don't know if I can live with the stress of being in that city. I believe I've said this before. But kung titira din lang ako sa isang maselan na lugar, mas gusto ko pang tumira sa NY.

Ewan ko ba. August has been funky. Maybe it's because it comes before September and going back to school and this being my last semester. Maybe it's because August has Duluth poised over the precipice of winter. I savor the sun and the warmth and dread the cold and the snow that will take over this quiet city once again.

Even my body is whining. Been very good to it by taking walks every day. Even jogging a bit every now and then. But yesterday, my throat felt scratchy and I had a headache for the better part of the morning. Last night, despite careful hydration, I had spells of dry cough. I might have even dreamt about it. Don't want to get sick. I've got so much work to do to prepare for September.

What I would personally like to do to Gloria Arroyo

2006-08-08T10:55:00.000-05:00

OH MY GOD. Tangina talaga. Walang katapusang katangahan. I've been in a bad mood all morning but this, this, this stupidity is making me fuming mad.

Supermaids

Gusto kong umuwi

2006-08-06T11:44:00.000-05:00

TANGINA gusto kong umuwi. I love that it's summer now and the sun is out and I laugh my head off and smile when the locals complain of the heat. But leche, what I would give right now to stand in the middle of the UP Coop, in my slippers, in my shorts and munching on isaw. Gusto kong mag-dive sa Puerto Galera. Gusto kong magtampisaw sa Bohol. Gusto kong tumambay sa Delaney hanggang 11 pm, kumakanta with the crazy, perpetually tardy people of Coro de Sta. Cecilia. Okay lang. Sige, kahit lagi silang late. I'm just so homesick right now.

Reading R.K. Narayan

2006-08-04T13:48:00.000-05:00

From "New York Days" in The Dateless Diary

YESTERDAY, at the self-service cafeteria, I made the mistake of waiting for someone to ask what I wanted. Today I know better. You enter the cafeteria, pull out a 'check' (on which prices are punched) from a machine, pick up a tray and spoons, and study the various dishes displayed on the long counter under a glass cover, trying to judge what's what and how far a vegetarian could venture--whether that attractive yellow stuff might not be some prohibited food such as lobster; the men here evidently do not like anyone to stare so long at their display; one of them asks in a surly manner, 'What do you want?'

First Lake Superior Swim

2006-08-02T09:43:00.000-05:00

IT WAS more like a dip really. I never thought I would submerge myself in Lake Superior's chilly waters. I had heard stories that it was too cold, even in the summer. And that only real, true-blue, genuine northlanders or people with Scandinavian heritage could survive a dip in the lake.

Hindi naman pala. Yakang-yaka.

I was out on the Lake Walk with C. yesterday when we saw some kids splashing about in the lake. And if little, itty-bitty kids could, I probably could, right? So we walked to shore, took our shoes and shirts off and went in. Sarap! Refreshing on a muggy summer afternoon. Too bad alang photographic evidence.

August 1st

2006-08-01T11:05:00.000-05:00

INDEED, it's that time of the year again. Every day will be a query. Every click on "check e-mail" button, every peep into the mailbox a masochistic, electric, hopeful exercise. I thought I was through with this. But I guess there will be some years when yes, you do have something to say and you wonder if you can say it the best possible way.

Hoping for the best, indeed.

On Sweat and Brown White People

2006-08-01T08:53:00.000-05:00

BY SOME strange quirk of nature, weather here in the northland is almost the same as weather in tropical Manila: Rainy, stormy. Hot and muggy. I'm the only person who seems to enjoy it. Well, maybe just me and the other handful of Southeast Asians in Duluth. Americans are used to dry heat. Duluth locals are used to frigid temperatures (most vacation in Alaska in the summer). To them these summer temperatures and humidity have been unbearable.

My officemate B. says she feels suffocated in humid conditions.

"But it's good for your skin!" I say.

"Oh, I still don't like it!"

I guess it's mainly about the sweat. The sopping, sour, sticky days of sweat. I don't have this kind of sweat because, hey, I'm Filipino. I shower two or three times a day in this weather and I have pores built to regulate humidity. When I do sweat, it smells like Body Shop's Mango Shower Gel. Mmmmmm!

I am so glad I am not in France right now where the sweat must be rancid.

***

Sometimes some teens here get a little carried away with their tanning salon obsessions. There is this episode in the show "Friends" where Ross gets thrice the amount of tanning spray he should have and the result was not a tanned look but a chocolatey burnt look.

I saw an attractive teenage girl last weekend who looked like she just came from a tanning salon massacre. She must have selected the "dark chocolate" spray or slept for days in a UV chamber. She looked hilarious and not at all sexy or cool. I think she fairly got the idea that she looked ridiculous because when I saw her I nearly jumped out of my skin. Ika nga ni lola, mukhang ikiniskis sa puwet ng kawali.

A Prairie Home Critique

2006-07-25T10:34:00.000-05:00

WATCHED "A Prairie Home Companion" a couple of days ago. Very disappointing. I like the radio show, hate the movie. Too much dialogue, no clear plot progression, and one can't really make sense of that angel walking around the set. If you didn't know about the radio program, you'd hate the movie even more.

Still, the movie had bits and pieces of surprises that saved it.

Meryl Streep has a great singing voice! If anything, I'd watch the movie again to hear her sing.
After having lived in the US for two years, I can now distinguish some accents. It was amazing to hear the Minnesota "r" from these actors.
Loved the riotous Lefty and Dusty jokes
I also loved the fact that they featured real local musicians and not just Hollywood actors. Listening to A Prairie Home Companion, you develop a respect for these artists and it's nice to see them on the big screen.
Huli man daw at magaling, nakakahabol pa rin. I am now a Meryl Streep fan. I think I'll check out "The Devil Wears Prada".

Parang sa Pinas

2006-07-24T15:37:00.000-05:00

OK, so this is what I have realized after trawling the internet for jobs the past few months (as far as the US is concerned):

Most international nonprofit jobs are based in Washington D.C.
Most major for profit magazine jobs are based in New York or Los Angeles. ( Too noisy. Too much driving.)
The salary for an entry level reporter job is $30,ooo or less. That's really low. Might work if one were living in a hick town.
In the nonprofit world, a "development" job is a euphemism for a "fund raising" job.
Many international nonprofits have a Hollywood-type board member. For example, Pierce Brosnan for IFAW, and Harrison Ford for CI.
A communications position is sometimes almost synonymous with marketing. It scares me. So I look for openings where the two ideas are still separate entities.

So, hmmmm, it's taken me a day and a half to put together another application. Getting the hang of it. Expecting to send out more.

***

This reminds me of the concentration of major media outlets in Metro Manila. A long time ago, I was tempted to apply for a PDI position in Baguio. But I was too chicken to leave my friends in Manila. Plus, I didn't want to be too far from the UP College of Music. Ah well...

The Places I Have Been

2006-07-21T10:55:00.000-05:00

GOT this from Ceswa's blog. Getting the itch to travel again.

Countries I Have Visited

US States I Have Visited

Traveling I would like to do:

Whale watching in Patagonia
Visit Antarctica (Surely life in Duluth has prepared me for this)
Travel the Silk Road
Visit a friend in Johannesburg
Bike the Tour de France route...on my own pace
Visit New York again, and again, and again
Visit the Banaue Rice Terraces
Do that Appari to Jolo (or maybe just Davao) trip

Get your countries visited maps at douweosinga.com

Badlands Backlog

2006-07-18T18:29:00.000-05:00

SLOWLY easing myself into working on my thesis by reviewing photos I took during the Badlands trip. I seem to have taken many photos of my feet. The photo above is somewhere near the Medora look out point. It was the day everyone was on a solo three hour hike. Some people take photos of themselves--extreme close-up head shots with toursit landmarks in the blurry background--for lack of a traveling companion or somebody else to click the shutter. I take photos of my feet. Here's one. Kind of an endorsement of Dr. Scholl's Moleskin pads. Goddddd, the blisters!

Here's one near Cache 2 while I was waiting for my adviser to finish relocating other caches. This was right after I nearly stepped on two snakes. I don't remember now what kind of snakes these were. But since I was alone and I saw two slithering away not quite two feet from me they gave me kilabot.

And finally, for posterity, here's a photo that Paula Pedersen took of me. This was Day Seven of no showers (just swimming in the river, bawal ang soap), occassional dehydration and constant hunger (The students didn't plan the menu well. Too much sugary stuff.). My secret stash of summer sausage probably saved me from bonking. There was nearly not enough salt in the group food stash. So, see the sleepy eyes and the tired smile? Frankly, my foot portraits look better.

There's a Method to My Madness

2006-07-16T22:03:00.000-05:00

THE pee smells are gone now. But the cleaning has gone on and has ballooned into proportions I would not normally get into on a weekend. My study is a mess. It's a cleaning and major organizing kind of mess. It is evening and I am still not done. All this happening when I was supposed to be working on school stuff. The sound track for today is Shakira's "La Tortura".

The P. Problem

2006-07-14T07:54:00.000-05:00

SPARKS has pee problems. We've been cleaning and scrubbing the apartment like crazy trying to wash off 5-year-old pee stains. Because cat noses are so sensitive, they sometimes will not do their business where smells are strong (but they made those smells in the first place!). C. and I have been immune to most of these smells that I wonder how our place smells like to visitors. Eeek! I would not want to be my own landlord.

My First Limo Ride

2006-07-12T08:40:00.000-05:00

HOME again after a trip to Massachusetts for a job interview. Somehow, me getting a rental car from Logan airport was not a promising option (I have no utang history, ergo, I don't exist.), so the company had no choice but to hire a limo to pick me up and drive me to Cape Cod!

I'm not talking about those huge monsters that Hollywood stars usually ride in. Just the shorter version. The black, discreet and classic looking limousines that have their own parking spaces in big US airports.

So there I was outside Terminal E, staring alternately at a printed sheet of e-mail directions telling me where to find the limo and at a group of white chauffers dressed neatly and nicely and holding up signs with various passanger names. None of them had mine.

Some mistake perhaps? Maybe I should wait. Maybe I'm too early. I went over them once and they seemed skeptical that I could be a passenger (Lelang nyo!). I went back to the center island again to think (kind of like a cat licking it's fur after falling off a window ledge). And as I was considering calling the travel agency (they charge $50 for emergency calls outside office hours), I saw another driver just behind the initial throng of skeptics. I walked to the limo lot again and there it was. My name. My driver!

What a very complicated experience (kind of expected because I can be a very complicated person sometimes)! While riding a limo--for the first time--felt like a treat, I didn't quite enjoy it because I was alone. Might have been better if C. were with me. Or some friends. Or Coro de Sta Cecilia (a riot!).

Also, I didn't feel comfortable with the expense. It was a non-profit org and it ran on donations by concerned individuals, most of them old people who liked animals and wanted to make a difference. I would have been fine catching a bus to Hyannis. Years and years in the Philippines have trained me not to be maselan when it comes to traveling. (C. later explained that the hiring process is kind of like a courtship between the company or institution and its potential employees and that treating me well during the hiring process was an indication that they were seriously interested.)

And lastly, there is always that resistance to anything that seems overly extravagant and uneccesary. I can spend money on a backpacking trip to Europe--and without guilt-- because I personally value these kinds of experiences. I crave them and I feel that they are necessary to my learning. But a limo ride from the airport, when I could have taken a bus--didn't sit well with me.

Anyhow, despite my complicated angsts, I did sit well. I melted into the leather seats. My legs just loved the leg room. My driver wasn't too bad either. He was very pleasant and learned. He was actually a retired marketing consultant. Plays golf in the weekends. Richard was his name. I asked him all about Cape Cod--real estate, the weather, taxes, things to do, driving routes to and from Boston (there were three). He gave me valuable tips--"It's a buyers market these days in real estate," and "If you have pets, it's better to approach individual rental home owners rather than renatl companies."

When we got to the hotel, Richard would not take my tip (I didn't even know if $10 was enough, but it was actaully all I could afford that day.). Was it because he knew I was a student and was expectedly poor? Was it because he knew I wasn't your typical limo rider? I guess if I were prissy, I would have taken offense. But I just felt grateful and relieved.

Laundry Day, I Hope

2006-07-06T09:58:00.000-05:00

I WORK at home today but I'm wearing a skirt. I'm also wearing a black top with little rhinestones around the neckline. Summer at the beach and coffeeshop evenings at Tomas Morato. Kind of a weird combination to wear in Duluth, even in the summer. So I'm staying home. When I emerge from the house later to have coffee with Hanaa, I'll be wearing a dirty pair of jeans and my UP Diliman T-shirt. We really need to do the launry soon, or I'll be wearing my one of my choir gowns to work tomorrow at Lund.

Uncle Louie's Diner

2006-07-05T10:43:00.000-05:00

I HAVE been meaning to write about Uncle Louie's Diner. First time I heard of the place was from Mike Kennedy of the Minnesota DNR. He said it was a great place to have breakfast. He was always sneaking off to have his meals there and it's one place in Duluth he would definitely recommend to visitors. But where was this place? "You know...(pause)..I can't really recall the exact address...but it's near a parking lot and a medical building," he said.

Hmph! Maybe it's one of those secret places locals want to keep safe from the hordes of tourists that visit Duluth every summer and during the skiing season.

Great! How many parking lots in Duluth should I check for proximity to a medical place? What made things worse was I forgot the diner's name. Also, Mike Kennedy is the hardest person to get a hold of in Duluth. So it took a full year before I finally found the diner. C. and I were driving to West Duluth and I noticed a lot of Harley Davidson motorcycles parked near a diner. It was called Uncle Louie's Diner, was near a parking lot and was right beside a place where you could buy medical lab equipment. Bingo!

American serving sizes are usually way to big for me. And when I ordered corned beef hash and eggs, I knew if would probably be too much. But the food was just so good. It didn't taste tired and oily and sad. It was a diner but the food had a home-cooked quality to it. Maybe an indication of a food establishment's quality is the number of harleys parked outside it. Hmmmm...

Kayaking

2006-07-04T09:07:00.000-05:00

YESTERDAY, C. and I went to Barker Island in Wisconsin, just 10 miles away really. We rented an open sea kayak and paddled accross the channel to Canal Park. Happened to be near the Duluth Superior Sailing Association dock, so we stopped there. Three kids and an adult were learning sailing by using cute little sailboats. It looked a lot of fun and C. and I asked about membership dues and things. Costs $100+ for a season. Eeeek. Shall see.

Then C. and I crossed the channel again, this time with the wind on our back. So it was faster this time. That evening, my upper body muscles were on fire. Pain killer creams didn't help much. Feeling better today though.

When I Grow Up

2006-06-28T07:42:00.000-05:00

MY FRIEND Moose sent me this video clip spoofing the ad industry. While the clip is funny and makes me glad I never went into the industry (I was on the path towards an ad agency career as a Visual Communication freshman in UP Diliman), it has also prompted me to examine what I have done so far as a grown up.

Flying on the Willard Munger Bike Trail (Duluth-Carlton-Duluth, 28 miles)

2006-06-20T06:30:00.000-05:00

Note: Half of this reviewed segment--namely before Jay Cooke through to Thomson, MN--will be closed for repairs from June 19 to July 7. Local trail users suggest starting from Thomson for longer rides.

What to Expect:

A pleasant trail ride that becomes an enchanting ride when the trail crosses Jay Cooke State Park. Look out for deer and various critters underfoot and underwheel. Click on the trail picture on the right and see if you can spot the deer.

Paved trail with some bumpy and damaged segments just out of Duluth and into Carlton

Bumps, dips and cracks marked with bright yellow or fuschia paint

Branches out to unpaved trails and some hiking trails approaching Jay Cooke State Park

And, er, watch out for scantily clad park visitors splashing about in the St. Louis River. You'll know when you see other visitors crowding a bridge and looking at them with binoculars.

Bring your own beefsticks. After Duluth, the nearest town that has a gas station (!) is Carlton.

Roadies, careful while riding through wooden bridges. Some sections are rotted and have nails sticking out. Slow down as you approach bridges.

More on the Munger Trail and some more pictures later.

Munger At Last

2006-06-18T22:35:00.000-05:00

Munger Trail Highlights:
-Saw a deer somewhere near mile 7
-Saw a chickadee blur under my bike
-Actually made it to Carlton, 15 miles from Duluth
-Cycled through Jay Cooke State Park
-Got lots of nice pictures--but I'm missing y camera cable so I can't post them yet

So it was a 30 mile day. My left knee doesn't hurt anymore. My left hip has been behaving. Whatever I did to my left shoe clip, it worked. It was also a good idea to drive from home to the trail head. Downtown Duluth is a brake-burner downhill and a muscle burner uphill. Not a good end to a nice cycling day.

I poked around the little town of Thompson. Asked an old man watering his garden where the nearest gas station was. He said it was in the next town, the bigger town. Carlton. Decided it wasn't really worth spending more time in Thomson so I got back on the trail. Carlton was five miles away. When I got there, I went straight to the gas station to get Gatoraide and beef jerky (I was low on salt and feeling it).Cycling back to Duluth, I had a tailwind so I cut my travel time by 30 minutes (not counting getting off the bike to take pictures).

It's too bad the State Park section of the trail is closed from tomorrow until July 7. I think the DNR will be paving the trail. (There were some nasty bumps and dips). So I guess I'll do my Munger Tour mid July. I've also signed up for the Gitche Gumi Trail ride on August 19. WIll explore that trail next weekend!

Finally, a sunny day

2006-06-18T10:57:00.000-05:00

FEELING bad that I spent all of yesterday indoors. The weather was crummy. Fog in the morning and rain most of the afternoon. I kept thinking, well, I could walk in the rain. But once I sat down to watch the "Angels in America" dvd, hindi na ako nakalabas. Oh well.

So today, I'm going out. I am. I really am. How long does it take to morph from couch camote to sack of camotes on a bike? Hmmm, three hours it seems. Been puttering around all morning in my Spandex. Need to summon the spirit of Bike Aid. The smell of Coppertone SPF 45 helps. Okay, gotta go and chekc out some trails...

..Really...

I'm logging out now...

For real...

Antsy

2006-06-15T08:06:00.000-05:00

THESE DAYS, the sun sets at around 8:30. By the time July rolls by, it will still be light out an hour later. I love summers in Duluth. It's not cold anymore (thank God), the air becomes more humid (my skin thanks God), the days are long and the afternoons stretch forever.

Summer in Duluth, the locals come out of their hiding places and lay in parks to sunbathe. They are out biking, hiking, picnicking, fishing, hunting and--I guess--making babies in quivering tents in state parks. I see them snacking, chatting and sipping cups of coffee out on the deck at the neighborhood cafe. The women in tanktops, shiny and greasy with sunblock. The men, no longer bearded, but red from an afternoon in the sun.

I remember thinking "naku, there ARE people in Duluth naman pala." Kasi naman, in the winter and fall, 5:30 p.m. pa lang residential neighborhoods are deserted na. Everyone is always in a hurry to get from one heated building to the next. Women don't shave their legs and men grow beards.

Summers in Duluth, children and their parents sit on front porches. Kind of the way African American people do in the south. And I guess, the way people back home do in the afternoons. Except, if there are no porches, we sit on wooden benches. Those bankos, initially cool to the skin but nice and warm after you've been sitting on it for a while. I always used to like running my hands and fingers over the smooth wood. Wood that has been shined and polished by many bottoms :)

I have seen no such benches here in the US. Here in Duluth, there are lawn chairs, usually adjacent to barbecue grills. College kids wear flipflops (a.k.a. the venerable tsinelas) as if these were expensive Italian shoes. They were these to the bank, to school, to the office. They wear these playing frisbee or while hooking up their fishing boats, canoes or kayaks to their pre-owned and gently used cars (not safe). Hmmm, the tsinelas as a fashion accessory. Makes me think of Boracay.

***

I like summers in Duluth. I get lots done in a day. I finish work at 4 p.m. Bike and poke around town until 6. Have dinner with C. and clean up by 7:30 or 8. Then I read, write, play with the cats until the sun goes down or I get sleepy. Some days, we are done with dinner and dishes by 6 and I'm too lazy to bike up and down hills (Duluth is one big hill made up of mini-hills.). But because it is still light outside, I don't feel like reading in bed. So I get antsy. I see my neighbors mowing their lawns or gardening and I get even more antsy. These instances I sometimes succeed in dragging C. to the lake walk. Or, when he's glued to the couch, I say the magic words: "Want to go to Home Depot or Menards?" :D

Swedish Me

2006-06-14T09:11:00.000-05:00

I wouldn't have suspected! I thought I was more of a Miss Piggy/Kermy.

You Are the Swedish Chef

"Bork! Bork! Bork!"
Your happy and energetic - with borderline manic tendencies.
No one really gets you. And frankly, you don't even get you.
But, you sure can whip up a great chocolate mousse

The Muppet Personality Test

Alien Shrubbery

2006-06-13T16:07:00.000-05:00

HEHEHE...Fun with Photoshop...

Gah! Rain!

2006-06-13T15:46:00.000-05:00

CRAP! It's raining. I was going to go biking today. My plan was to go as far as west Duluth and visit the Twin Ports Cyclery. Then maybe I could avoid the hills and just hitch my bike to the bus on the way home.

Hmmmm...Guess I'll just have to stay near today and not go too far downhill.

Yesterday, I was in pain. I got on my bike at around 5 p.m. and oh my God. The crotch area was just too sore and not liking it. It's the second-day-after-riding-my-bike-for-the-first-time-after-six-months thing.
Been looking for a cycling group. But most roadie clubs here are racing people. I have been a lonely cyclist :(

*The photo is of my shadow at the UMD Rain Garden. Been doing some work for the university's storm water pollution prevention program. I check the rain garden regularly and take pictures of the flowers and plants for publicity purposes.

Canal Park Rummage Sale

2006-06-10T14:50:00.000-05:00

CHECKED out the rummage sale but did find anything I wanted to buy. Lots of large clothing. Overpriced trinkets. Some sellers did not put price tags on their items. Hmmmm, not a good idea. Only able to take a few pictures before my camera battery died on me.

Post-Badlands Post

2006-05-26T21:45:00.000-05:00

Descending Big Plateau

HAVE been home since Tuesday. Duluth seemed greener and warmer. I immediately called C. when the Outdoor Program van rolled into UMD campus. After helping the students return camping gear, I walked home with C., my large pack on my back. I didn't mind. It was light. I only had my clothes and personal gear in it. No more carrying six liters of water and 3 lbs of food and a 3-lb tent with my gear! It was great seeing the cats again, Meowsie looked like he'd been missing me. Poor baby!

I have twice as many pictures of the Badlands than I have of New York. So many stories too. But these may have to wait. I'm still catching up on chores and work that have piled up while I was away. Also, I've started my full time summer student job, which pays me peanuts. But hey, I gotta pay for summer class.

So for the meantime, here are some more photos I took in the Badlands. I had a lot of fun with sepia photos. Found the color mediocre most of the time. But the land was just so commanding that breaking the image down to monotone brought out the dramatic lines and sweeps:

South Unit Overlook

Getting to Know the Prairie

Self-Portrait Near Cache 2

Photo by Tyler

Sunday Evening Before the Badlands

2006-05-14T21:07:00.000-05:00

I'M really not looking forward to leaving home again so soon. I've missed my boyfriend and I've missed the cats. New York was wonderful! But now I will have to make like a pack mule and scoot to the North Dakota Badlands. I really should have a more positive attitude about this. But I'm not much of a carry-all-your-things on your back and walk up and down rocky terrain kind of gal. I just need to do this for my thesis...Sigh...

I've successfully tested my audioblogger. Nice. I probably should have used it in New York but...Anyhow, I'll only be able to use this in the beginning and end of my trip. I don't think there will be much in the way of celphone coverage in the Badlands.

Wish me luck!

Audioblog Test

2006-05-14T12:59:00.000-05:00

New York in Five Pictures

2006-05-11T14:57:00.000-05:00

Path to "Strawberry Fields, Central Park, NY

Me & Elena

Me & The Starry Night

Me & Lara in China Town

Central Park after my nap

That was fast

2006-05-11T07:53:00.000-05:00

I AM back in Duluth, and I love New York. I have lots of photos and lots of stories (including standing right beside Ashton Kucher in an organic foods check out line, and not seeing "Alias'" Ron Rifkin (he was six feet near me) on the subway. But I have an exam and lots of chores to catch up with so this is going to take a while.

One thing's for sure. It was worth touching my "do not touch" savings account.

Library Lust

2006-05-04T10:34:00.000-05:00

NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY, NY -- Whoohoo! I'm in New York! Sinundo ako ni Lara yesterday from La Guardia. Kuwentuhan kami all day. Had dinner at a Filipino carenderia near St. Mark's Place. Explored Greenwich Village, Lara's neighborhood. Had some Baileys sa kanyang dorm, sssshhhhh!

Detail on Ceiling of the Rose Reading Room

Rose Reading Room

Right now, I am in the Rose Reading Room of the New York Public Library. I was walking along 5th St. (medyo naligaw ako sa Broadway) on my way to the Moma, when I saw the large stone lions. People were sitting on cafe chairs right in front of the library steps, sunning themselves. When I saw the library, I almost fell on my knees in worship! :D
View from Library Steps

Ok tama na ang internet. Gotta go to the MoMA now. I have a date with Vicent Van Gogh and his Starry Night!

Sorry Taylor

2006-04-26T23:00:00.000-05:00

YESTERDAY I voted for Elliot Yamin after the American Idol show. I dialed. It rang. Then a voice said, "Thank you for voting for contestant number 2!" And then it was over. Ay, anti-climactic.

I really, really, really like Taylor Hicks. Kaya lang Elliot's performance was just superb last night. It was PERFECT!

Weather & Food

2006-04-26T08:03:00.000-05:00

DAYS have been mostly at 13 Degrees Celsius, more or less. Very good. On overcast days, it drops down to 9 and that amazes me. I take the sun for granted in Manila. I run away from it most of the time. Pero dito, I hope it is always out all day. Clouds are nice. They are pretty. But I don't want them blocking my source of warmth.

Still, I am not quite as loco as the young locals who sun bathe even in the unsafe hours from noon to 3 p.m.

***

I have so much more respect for waiters and waitresses. Last Saturday, I volunteered to help out with Churches United in Ministry (CHUM) benefit dinner for homeless people. Hannah explianed that every year, they always have international students help out with the benefit. So I said yes, not knowing what to expect.

Yikes. There was so much work. And it all had to be done really fast. All six of us laid out appetizer plates, kept the punch bowl filled, bussed the appetizer plates, poured water, collected the dinner plates, served dessert. My estimation is that we served 100 to 125 people that evening. Now I will always tip big.

But I did have fun, though it was a lot of work. I got to meet the Islamic women of Duluth. Of course, there wasn't much time to talk. But before the guests came, they fed us volunteers at the kitchen and ended up sharing the meal with us too (That's the photo up there). Wow, WONDERFUL VEGETABLE POTATO SOMOSAS! HEAVENLY LENTIL! YUMMY MEAT DISH THAT I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS CALLED! And those were just the appetizers! (We got to eat some dinner later after the guests were served.) And those DELICIOUS NAN BREAD DIPS! OH-MY-GOD! I need to remind myself to ask Hannah for her mom's Somosa recipe.

Weehee!

2006-04-25T08:30:00.000-05:00

MY Monday colloquium has been postponed! Woohoo! One deadline less. I can now think about New York and today, I only have two tasks to do. And most of that is have a party downstairs in my darkroom. :) :) :)

Doing it in the Dark

2006-04-23T14:11:00.000-05:00

WELL, my basement darkroom is all set. I don't really need it to be 100% light-tight because I only need it for printing. I am okay with using my changing bag to load film into my developing tank.

I made my first basement darkroom photograms today adn experimented with solarization. Too bad I can't load my plates. I don't have a scanner. alk about technology gaps. But they are not anything spectacular anyway. They experiment plates.

Now I don't have to be dependent on the UMD darkroom where the tongs are contaminated and you have to put up with the ocassional whiny girl, the boyfriends who hang out waiting for their girlfriends to finish their darkroom work, or just plain weird people.

Here are a few items I still need:
1. chemical-resistant gloves
2. plastic apron
3. trash can
4. trash bags
5. polycontrast filters
6. a radio
7. safety eyewear

After 11 Years

2006-04-16T17:09:00.000-05:00

HERE I go again. It is done. I am finished with it. I have sent it off. I have daydreamed about good things for it. I have worried about it not being good enough. But I am on a roll. It is out of my hands, for now. And so we buckle down and wait. Ah, it feels so good to be back!

Holy Week Thoughts

2006-04-13T08:15:00.000-05:00

E-MAILS from Manila are full of Holy Week details. People are stocking up on CDs, DVDs or videos to watch at home. Some have plans to hit the beach. All are anticipating the great exodus of people from Manila and the monstrous traffic on the way to the provinces. Flights will be fully booked. The Inquirer will have two days of real rest: no newspaper production on Thursday and Friday and no newspaper on Friday and Saturday. It will be hot, sweaty. In Manila, heat will radiate from the pavement. In some streets, asphalt will melt. Rubber-soled shoes will be damaged. There will be old women reading and singing the Passion of Christ on makeshift sound systems in churches, in chapels, in schools, in garages, in hastily constructed sheds. The men who usually hang out at the sari-sari store drinking beer will be on the streets, on their knees, carrything crosses. Their faces will be covered with white, grimy, sweaty shirts. Other men will stand there, half-naked, flagellating themselves. Getting their backs all bloodied up. A handful will want to be nailed to a cross tomorrow and re-open their forced stigmata wounds. Children will shriek and run away when they see these men. They will hide but they will come back to look and oogle, until they run away shrieking again. In some churches, larger than life mannequins of Jesus, Mary, Roman soldiers and other characters of the Holy Week story will be dusted off, dressed and polished. Easter Sunday will be their day. There will be sidewalk drinks and food. Not your cleanest cuisine. A good source of hepatitis if I might say. But people will still have them, as I had them, over and over until I got sick. O h well. That' what you get for getting a drink near the dirty Abacan river.

Ah, Holy Week in the Philippines. I'll have to admit, I really do miss it.

Film, soon to vanish

2006-04-11T08:29:00.000-05:00

EVELEN degrees Celsius. Tropical! Want to spend a huge chunk of time outdoors today, but I have deadlines. Dang. Nevertheless, I SHOULD go out for a walk around noontime and get some sunshine. And maybe go for a walk at Bagely around six. Half of the day in front of the lap top and half in the darkroom. Done with rolls one and two for assignment four. Realized I need roll three developed and dried before I even start on some prints. It's going to be a tricky experiment of merging images using an enlarger instead of Photoshop.

***

My suking tindahan First Photo raised the price of a 100 sheet box of Ilford RC Pearl photo paper from $45 to $65. Aba! Nawili! At the UMD arts supplies store items usually are overpriced too, that same box of photo paper is priced at $50. I bought a box tuloy.

This makes me wonder when they'll start overpricing Ilford film. I think black and white film and the darkroom process is here to stay though. It'll just get more expensive. It's colored film I'm wondering about. When will they stop making them? When will they become specialty items? At the UMD bookstore, you can have your rolls of colored film developed and prints made for dirt cheap prices. And when you get your pictures, may kasama pang two rolls of free film. Looks like they're getting rid of the inventory.

Happy News

2006-04-08T21:48:00.000-05:00

YIPEE! I just learned that I got the UMD Photo Alliance Scholarship! I don't know yet how much the scholarship is for, but I'm hoping I can use it to take a class this summer. Otherwise, I guess I can wait till fall. This is exciting! My photos will be displayed at the School of Fine Arts for a month (I think). This is the third time any of my photography as been exhibited. The first one was in Angeles when I was in 3rd year high school (won 2nd Place in a local competition). The second one was in 2004 at the Filipinas Heritage Library (won 2nd place there too). And now this. Really excited. My ears are still warm!

No Manila for Me

2006-04-07T07:15:00.000-05:00

WELL, I guess it's final. I'm not going home to Manila this summer. The dates are just too crazy, the time too short and the money too precious. I guess it'll have to be another year or two before I go home.

Instead, I bought myself a ticket to New York with my airmiles. Not going to Manila to see my friends would have to be replaced by an equally exciting trip. So I am finally going to see my most favorite painting of all, Van Gogh's "Starry Night" at the New York MoMA. I'm also going to make the pilgrimmage (finally!) to the New York Library. I'm going to revisit China Town in New York, see the Cloisters, see the Guggenheim and watch "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee". Meet up with Lorina and Dong and crash at Lara's place. And hey, there's an Edward Munch exhibit at the MoMA too. "This is the first retrospective devoted to the work of the internationally renowned Norwegian painter, printmaker, and draftsman to be held in an American museum in almost three decades," the brochure says. "The Scream" is out there somewhere, living the exciting life of a stolen painting. An unhurried one week adventure in the city that never sleeps is the best alternative to a cancelled trip home.

Waiting for Lulu

2006-04-05T08:57:00.000-05:00

SEVEN in the evening and it's still light out. The sun rises at around 6 a.m. Days are getting longer. The air is warmer. My skin is no longer lizzardly dry. We wait for Lulu the cat to come out of her house and play, and lounge around on her front yard. I hope she's okay. I hope she had a good winter. We don't really know how old she is.

Today I found out that Diane Arbus died by suicide, and why am I not surprised.

There is a big pot of gumbo in the fridge and I don't really want any of it. Seeing all that meat and fat has given me the urge to go back to my no-red-meat diet. If only chicken weren't so boring. If only tofu weren't so crumbly. If only Mother Sachi had a carinderia nearby.

A few days ago, I went for a walk on the beach and a trudge through the woods with my classmates. Lake Superior is so large it sounds like the sea. There were actually large waves. After the beack walk, we trudged through a birchwood area and picked up birchbark for Adriane's basket project. Joy and I peed in the woods. A highly satisfying experience.

A rabbit has taken over our backyard. The squirrels are restless.

Darkroom Musings

2006-03-29T08:24:00.000-06:00

I THINK I may have stayed too long in the darkroom yesterday. I was excited about developing two rolls of film--my "uncommon portraits" photo shoot--so I spent 2 p.m. to 7 p.m. in the dark. I only took one break. A 30-minute one, while waiting for my negatives to dry. Then I spent what must must have been three hours printing two contact sheets and perfecting a print for one frame.

With the safety light on, I could barely make out the faces of other people who were working in the darkroom with me. The UMD darkroom is the largest one I've ever been in. It has two main sections. The larger inner room has ten enlarger stations, two tray stations, a tank developing station and a white light chamber where one can view prints. The other section has around five enlarger stations, a fiber-based paper tray station and two film loading chambers. Most people use the larger inner room. And that was where I spent most of my time yesterday.

There is a girl in my class who takes excellently-metered photos. Or at least, these are excellently printed photos. She prefers low contrast warm tones. And her images are quiet and elegant. I have forgotten her name. So lets call her classmate R. She was in the darkroom yesterday. Then there is a woman, probably in her late 40s, lets call her D. She's in another photography class. I don't know her name. But I know her prints. She likes high-contrast and will only print images that contain true black.

D. and R. and I were the last people working in the darkroom yesterday. I am guessing we were all relieved that none of the freshman photography class were still working there. Those freshmen. They don't quite know how to work quietly. And some of them just talk on and on and on like the Energizer Bunny. There is nothing like comfortable work silence and the ocassional chat. D. asked me about the dragonfly in my print. Was it something I added to the image as a photogram? she said. It was actually just a metalwork dragonfly I placed on Megan's knee for contrast. I felt flattered. It was an indirect compliment. I usually ask about technique only when something looks so good that I want to try it myself.

I wonder if D. and R. also know me by the images I bring out from blank pieces of paper in the developer tray. Would I be dragonfly woman?

Black and white photography is so unpredictable, work-intensive and time consuming. But it gives me a tangible sense of satisfaction. There is so much I have yet to learn and do better. But the ocassional strong image and perfect frame encourage me and make me happy.

Critter Sightings

2006-03-27T07:25:00.000-06:00

7:24 a.m.

Am here by the kitchen window with Orion. A scraggly rabbit has been scurrying across the tundra :) in our backyard. It's spring!

The sun must have risen around 6 am. Terrific compared to the 7 am sunrise we've suffered all winter. Ahh! My skin feels it too. My hands are less dry. Or is that the cat saliva effect?

Melting

2006-03-26T09:10:00.000-06:00

FIRST walk on the Lake Walk today without a heavy jacket. Last week, first outdor grilling for the year. Eight degrees Celsius outside today. This year's spring is better than last year's which was rainy, gray and miserable. Time to uncover Blue Bianchi, get her a tune-up and take her out for the first of many spins. C. gave me new panniers too for my impending unsupported solo ride on the Duluth-Carlton trail. Wohooo!

It Boggles My Mind: Duluth's Polar Bear Plunge

2006-02-26T20:16:00.000-06:00

SOME JUMPED in yelling caveman yells (I go kill dat mammoth today! Aaaaaaaaiieeeee!). Some walked solemnly across the boardwalk and looked behind them at their loved ones, as if it was going to be their last moments on earth. Some look scared and unwilling, like captives forced by pirates to walk the gang plank. But what ever! They were all doing it for a good cause, and that was to raise money for Minnesota's special olympics. Hmmm, I wouldn't be surprised if at least one of them--after jumping into that frigid lake--eventually becomes a beneficiary of this fund raiser ("Yeeeessss, I lost this leg during Polar Bear Plunge 2005. And um, the other one had to be amputated after Polar Bear Plunge 2006...What about you? What? Oh, weeeelll, I had nipples until last year too.")
More pictures:

MR. HAWAIIAN SHORTS. Brave man summons the gods of the tropics by wearing charmed shorts.

THE PLUNGE. In the end, it was his thick, American-Scandinavian er, skin, that protected him from the bone-chilling claws of Lake Superior.

TEST OF FRIENDSHIP. Yup. Friends who plunge together, stay together.

NO FAIR. He had warm clothes on. Let's hope he brought some extra clothes for the chilly trip back to the house.

THE REAL POLAR BEARS. Medics stay warm and dry in their extra-thick scuba suits.

Diversity Class 101

2006-02-26T19:45:00.000-06:00

SPOKE in a Community Education class in UMD with two other international students, Finland guy (his name is hard to pronounce and so I can't remember it) and Pramod from Mauritius. I can probably say the three of us got something out of it because it is always nice to talk about one's home country and to remember what you like about it. Finland guy rhapsodized about long, unhurries meals. Pramod reminisced about the many festivals and traditions in Mauritius that have influences from India and France. And I talked happily about siestas and the November 1st parties for the dead.

We couldn't have been talking to a more catatonic group of students though. There were some questions from them, upon the teachers prodding. But the girl who asked the questions had a somewhat dead expression. No matter how much we told them about our food and traditions, we failed to get a spark from most of the students' eyes. And yes, most of the questions were asked by the professor who kept them coming one after the other, perhaps a little out of embarrassment. She kept repeating the phrase "These lovely people have taken time out to be with us to answer OUR questions..."

I feel for the students. There must be a better way to ease them out of their comfort zone and to spark their curiosity about other countries. If we had more time, it would have been a good idea to bring pictures or to present something on wide screen. We international students are so used to being temporary ambassadors of our countries that I am sure most of us have a powerpoint file about our countries somewhere.

I also wondered why they didn't ask many questions about community health. Because it was a class on community health. Hmmmm...

Meeting Cheryl Strayed on a Snowy Day

2006-02-25T10:46:00.000-06:00

FRIDAY, yesterday, was a day of flurries. I was stuck at home in the morning reading research method books, thinking evil thoughts about a professor who is quite clueless about what she/he is teaching, and keeping the little plump kitten off my laptop keyboard. I look up from my mountain of books and notes and journal articles and see that there is a snowstorm outside. I can barely see the trees out my window. Everything is flurry-ious white and moving and swirling.

I made a split-second decision to junk to school work +(for the moment) and drive to the library where a favorite author of mine is going to read from her new book. But alas, I have to snovel (shovel snow) my way to the drive way to dig out the truck. Can't have it getting stuck in the snowbank. It's a four-wheel drive, but better safe than frozen.

When I get there, a plump woman in glasses, with graying hair and a heavy Scandinavian accent is introducing Cheryl Strayed. Cheryl Strayed who has such a magnificant name. An interesting name. A name that has echoes in her prose. If you want to know what I mean, hunt down a copy of The Best American Essays 2003, and look for the essay "The Love of My Life." Quite an excellent piece of prose. Her mother--who was a mature student here at UMD--dies of cancer and Cheryl grieves by being a slut. You know I can't quite do justice to the essay by writing a summary here. Let's just say, it's a well-written piece of work. And I was quite happy that UMD was part of her book tour.

Anyhow, there was Cheryl Strayed, reading a few pages from her book "Torch" and I feel I know the book intimately even if I hadn't read it yet. That's because novel is an extension/expansion of her essay "The Love of My Life".

Here is the first paragraph of the essay:

The first time I cheated on my husband, my mother had been dead for exactly one week. I was in a cafe in Minneapolis watching a man. He watched me back. He was slightly pudgy, with jet black hair and skin so white it looked as if he'd powdered it. He stood and walked to my table and sat down without asking. He wanted to know if I had a cat. I folded my hands on the table, steadying myself; I was shaking, nervous at what I would do. I was raw, fragile, vicious with grief. I would do anything.

I am a big fan of excellent beginnings and this is a good example. The paragraph sets the tone for the entire essay. Its language is simple, but the sentiment it conveys is thick with humanity. It is the sort of scene that you can't quite lay out, baroque-style. This type of grief is a raw ball of sadness and hurt. The paragraph tells the story the way the Cheryl's hands were folded on the table: trying to keep composure but on the brink of topppling into uncontrollable loss of self.

Longganisang Lucban

2006-02-24T11:22:00.000-06:00

AND I GUESS I promised a report on the Longganisang Lucban project. Here's the much-delayed picture of my efforts. They look okay in this shot, but the other links were of various sizes. All in all I'd say it was a good first try. I now know the secret to making longganisa--and that's to put in lots of pork fat. Unfortunately, mine didn't have much of this, so when I cooked them, they were on the dry side. Next time, I know better. But since it took me the better part of the morning stuffing the little porkers, I think I'll do this again, uh, next year.

Nanaman?!

2006-02-24T10:01:00.000-06:00

AND BARELY a week after a mudslide that kills 60 plus school children, a coup is attempted by whomever and President Arroyo declares a state of emergency. My first reaction is, "Ano? Nanaman?". There is just so much work to do to keep the country afloat, and so many messes to clean up and we have this. And the most evil thing about this is that it directly insults the deaths in Leyte.

Who the hell are these coup plotters? Are they power-hungry Philippine military people who need to entertain themselves? Are they disgruntled politicians? Are they rich people who are impatient with Tita Glo? Or are they mga impaktong-alagad-ni-alam-mo-na -kung-sino-who-wants-to-rule-the-world? Hmmmm...conspiracy theories abound.

Coups are getting to be a regular occurence. What we need is to move the political center of the Philippines out of Manila and transfer it to Cebu. Give the reigns of the govenment to Cebuanos. How can anyone plot and incite a coup in such a beautiful place? Might as well, throw away the guns, put on one's swim suit and run to the beach. Even government destabilizers flying in from the US would think twice about fanning the flames of chaos in Cebu. Sa Manila naman kasi, everything is so chaotic na, so konting kalabit on the right antsy people, konting pera, ayos! Instant coup de etat! That way, habang the government is being run in Cebu, we can clean up the filth in Manila, restore and take care of historical buildings, give visual artists, musicians, writers, poets, folk dancers and Freddie Aguilar the run of the place and--as Bob Marley says--every little thing's gonna be all right.

Lambot-Tuhod

2006-02-22T14:33:00.000-06:00

ANAK NG TIPAKLONG! Ang guwapo ni Neil Gaiman dito. Parang pinaghalong Ralph Fiennes at yung crush kong religion teacher noong high school ako (NOT Mr. Dungo!). Jaske! And to think he lives just 200 miles away. Pigil, Natsky! Pigil!

Da Huuuuuuudge @ UMD

2006-02-22T14:26:00.000-06:00

HERE'S a view of the Darland Administration building from College Street. Yup, snow has never been so, so, huuuudgy.

Interesting Read

2006-02-22T11:08:00.000-06:00

SAW Pink Panther last weekend. And today, while poking around some blogs from friends back home, I came upon this essay written by Steve Martin. Check out "In Search of the Wily Filipino".

In Praise of Gay and Gaiman

2006-02-21T08:23:00.000-06:00

NEW YORK IS A CITY of things unnoticed. It is a city with cats sleeping under parked cars, two stone armadillos crawling up St. Patrick's Cathedral, and thousands of ants creeping on top of the Empire State Building. The ants were carried up there by wind or birds, but nobody is sure; nobody in New York knows any more about the ants than they do about the panhandler who takes taxis to the Bowery; or the dapper man who picks trash out of Sixth Avenue trash cans; or the medium in the West Seventies who claims, "I am clairvoyant, clairaudient, and clairsensuous."

--From "New York is a City of Things Unnoticed" by Gay Talese (The Gay Talese Reader)

"To absent friends, lost loves, old gods, and the season of mists; and may each and every one of us always give the devil his due."

--From Neil Gaiman's "Season of Mists" (The Sandman Collection)

Here We Go Again

2006-02-20T21:36:00.000-06:00

BAD news from the homeland. It's another mass disaster. A few weeks ago, it was news about the stampede over a million-peso game show. More than 60 dead. Most of them poor people hoping for a chance to win millions of pesos. This time it's a mudslide in Leyte. Around 1,500 remain missing. Two hundred children and a number of adults confirmed dead.

Why am I not surprised. I covered the disaster beat for a few years when I was a reporter for the Philippine Daily Inquirer. I remember covering a story near Legaspi City that was quite similar. Sudden flash flood. Mudslide buries villages. Politicians issue statements. Practice their "indignant look" for the TV cameras. Investigations are ordered. Then all is forgotten till the next sensational story or the next mass disaster.

All this makes me think of Filipino-Americans I've met here in the US who seem jaded, pesimistic and unforgivably disillusioned about the Philippines. And I used to wonder how they came to that. I somewhat understand how they feel now. At best, I know they don't hate Inang Bayan. (How is that even possible?) But I know that they hate and are utterly disappointed at how graft and corruption has hindered the Philippine's progress and has forced families to live apart (because some choose to work overseas).

I feel this anger because I was a faithful taxpayer. Every year I looked at my income tax return and blood would drain from my head at the thought of my hard-earned pesos being spent by some politician's son on a cappuccino at StarBucks Legaspi Village. Hay nako, sino ba naman ang hindi iinit ng ulo sa ganon?

Money that should have gone to schools and to health care and to development projects for the poor just becomes pork barrel. They way I see it--and I know this sounds harsh-but each government official or employee who has ever taken or solicited a bribe has had a hand in the deaths in Leyte, in Pasig, and wherever else there is death-by-poverty.

I know it sounds like convenient finger-pointing. But hey, I spent my idealistic youth helping to make things better--until I felt burnt out. Time to rest and recharge my batteries.

What is it that stewardesses say in case of an emergency landing? Put the oxygen mask on yourself before helping the person next to you. Otherwise, you could both possibly die.

Ah basta, tangina ninyong mga pulitikong walang silbi! Sana nga may impiyerno.