Friday the 13th
Photo by Jefferson Solayao
Sunday, July 31, 2016
I am disturbed by paintings, illustrations, and dioramas that depict life in ancient Philippines, all the way back to when people lived in caves.
In my visions they are a lot more covered with intricate clothing, even bejewelled, rather than wearing loincloths and sarongs. Perhaps, in our desire to emphasize distance by time, we tend to see the primitive as closest to naked as possible?
In my visions they are a lot more covered with intricate clothing, even bejewelled, rather than wearing loincloths and sarongs. Perhaps, in our desire to emphasize distance by time, we tend to see the primitive as closest to naked as possible?
The house stirs slowly the morning after a party. Outside, the skies are overcast and there are hints of the storm in the east. During these times the coziest place is our kitchen, where the coffee is hot and the scent of cooked food and pastries lingers in the air. Cerefina and Kichiro Mayuzumi are curled up in their favorite corners, enjoying the cool weather but dreaming of the sun, which has not come out.
Saturday, July 30, 2016
Friday, July 29, 2016
I tried to convince Ronald to take me to Lucky Chinatown and check into a hotel for a night, either on a Chinese New Year's Eve or a night within the Festival of Hungry Ghosts during which the Chinese opera (kao-ka) will be staged in the streets, but he doesn't feel up to it. It's not the kind of adventure that interests him.
My Singapore Travel Diary, Saturday, July 23 - Sunday, July 24, 2016
Saturday, July 23
Day-Long Workshop for the main workshop group
Slept 12:00 MN - 5:49 AM, but woke up briefly after two-hour intervals.
Breakfast in the hotel dining room. I sit on the smoking deck with the food supplier again. I remark that the breakfast room is not crowded this morning. He says that it is too early for the crush. He mentions that, this evening, his crew will be preparing a dinner for the Indonesian football team, whose members I have been seeing for the past two days.
Rain. I wait for the clouds to disperse, then walk to the theatre under the drizzle.
Saturday is not a working day for the theatre. I arrive 9:20 AM just as E. also arrives to unlock the doors and turn on the lights. Jason and Anica arrive next.
This morning the participants are rehearsing their group play. Their invited guests will arrive an hour later to watch their performance. I converse with Ze-An, who mentions Atiqah, his senior, and who was the intern who assisted me last year.
The performance goes well, and the invited guests join us later for two or three exercises before we break for lunch.
Lunch with some of the participants at a Chinese coffee shop. Pamela follows us there. This part of the city is terra incognita to her; she is one of the wealthier Singaporeans who do not usually venture into iffy places.
Afternoon exercises and closure. Afterward I take Jacky and Khai with me to the bak kut teh shop. I have never tried bak kut teh before. It is yummy.
Back in the hotel, I catch a Thai movie about three gays on a haunted ship. I finish packing.
Aside from bak kut teh I reflect that there has also been Ribena, a black currant syrup introduced in Singapore from way back when it was still a British colony. I had Ribena several times during the workshops. I initially suspected it to be duhat, but I was wrong.
Sunday, July 24
I wake up twice at dawn, then finally at 8:49 AM.
I dress, then go down for a quick breakfast. The sun is out, the weather is as fine as a warm summer day's.
Check-out in the lobby. I have two 50-dollar bills changed to a 100. E. arrives to pick me up. I return to him the adapter I borrowed, and to the hotel the other adapter I borrowed to charge my camera.
E. takes me to Changi Airport in a taxi. He'd checked me in electronically, but checking in here is smooth either way.
The departure gate opens 11:00AM. I make it in time. No more window-shopping at Madame Butterfly, and I even forego using the departure area computer terminals. Boarding proceeds on time. On the airplane I watch The Monkey King (Wu Kong). As in my earlier flight the earphones come in a plastic bag that says, "Compliments of Singapore Airlines". I wonder if atchay airlines still warn you to return their earphones or else, as if they were great earphones to begin with. Frankly they are mere plastic toys with cheap sponges on them, like the headgear used in the game "Who Am I?".
The movie has fascinating characters and great special effects, as most wuxia do.
After lunch I have my first Singapore Sling. Nice and sweet, like a gin and tonic with crushed orange pulp and maraschino cherries. It makes me feel like I swallowed a cold, juicy grape that stays in my stomach for an hour.
Dessert is a cone of KitKat ice cream. The stewardess asks me, "Kanang--ice cream?" and of course I want it. I also have a cup of black, brewed coffee.
And guess what I watch after The Monkey King? Ip Man 3, of course, and so I come full circle.
I reflect on how my body adjusted to the right sleeping schedule in Singapore, and whether this will keep when I lie down in bed tonight.
Our expected landing is 3:15 PM, but we arrive 3:33 PM. I wish that they would knock down the wall behind the conveyor belt. I not only want to see my baggage coming in, I want to see how it is being handled as well.
I take a Europcar home. I am already thinking of myself sitting inside my bedroom, spaced out and still unwilling to unpack and set aside my laundry.
But, it is great to be having dinner with my family again!
Looking back now, my only regret is that the workshop was too short. I was unable to use the exercises from a visual arts book that I adapted for application to creative writing.They are truly wonderful exercises and I hope to have a pick-up workshop with alumni some time in the future in order to use them. That, and that I have all these loose paper currency and coins that I cannot spend to buy anything in the Philippines.
Day-Long Workshop for the main workshop group
Slept 12:00 MN - 5:49 AM, but woke up briefly after two-hour intervals.
Breakfast in the hotel dining room. I sit on the smoking deck with the food supplier again. I remark that the breakfast room is not crowded this morning. He says that it is too early for the crush. He mentions that, this evening, his crew will be preparing a dinner for the Indonesian football team, whose members I have been seeing for the past two days.
Rain. I wait for the clouds to disperse, then walk to the theatre under the drizzle.
Saturday is not a working day for the theatre. I arrive 9:20 AM just as E. also arrives to unlock the doors and turn on the lights. Jason and Anica arrive next.
This morning the participants are rehearsing their group play. Their invited guests will arrive an hour later to watch their performance. I converse with Ze-An, who mentions Atiqah, his senior, and who was the intern who assisted me last year.
The performance goes well, and the invited guests join us later for two or three exercises before we break for lunch.
Lunch with some of the participants at a Chinese coffee shop. Pamela follows us there. This part of the city is terra incognita to her; she is one of the wealthier Singaporeans who do not usually venture into iffy places.
Afternoon exercises and closure. Afterward I take Jacky and Khai with me to the bak kut teh shop. I have never tried bak kut teh before. It is yummy.
Back in the hotel, I catch a Thai movie about three gays on a haunted ship. I finish packing.
Aside from bak kut teh I reflect that there has also been Ribena, a black currant syrup introduced in Singapore from way back when it was still a British colony. I had Ribena several times during the workshops. I initially suspected it to be duhat, but I was wrong.
Sunday, July 24
I wake up twice at dawn, then finally at 8:49 AM.
I dress, then go down for a quick breakfast. The sun is out, the weather is as fine as a warm summer day's.
Check-out in the lobby. I have two 50-dollar bills changed to a 100. E. arrives to pick me up. I return to him the adapter I borrowed, and to the hotel the other adapter I borrowed to charge my camera.
E. takes me to Changi Airport in a taxi. He'd checked me in electronically, but checking in here is smooth either way.
The departure gate opens 11:00AM. I make it in time. No more window-shopping at Madame Butterfly, and I even forego using the departure area computer terminals. Boarding proceeds on time. On the airplane I watch The Monkey King (Wu Kong). As in my earlier flight the earphones come in a plastic bag that says, "Compliments of Singapore Airlines". I wonder if atchay airlines still warn you to return their earphones or else, as if they were great earphones to begin with. Frankly they are mere plastic toys with cheap sponges on them, like the headgear used in the game "Who Am I?".
The movie has fascinating characters and great special effects, as most wuxia do.
After lunch I have my first Singapore Sling. Nice and sweet, like a gin and tonic with crushed orange pulp and maraschino cherries. It makes me feel like I swallowed a cold, juicy grape that stays in my stomach for an hour.
Dessert is a cone of KitKat ice cream. The stewardess asks me, "Kanang--ice cream?" and of course I want it. I also have a cup of black, brewed coffee.
And guess what I watch after The Monkey King? Ip Man 3, of course, and so I come full circle.
I reflect on how my body adjusted to the right sleeping schedule in Singapore, and whether this will keep when I lie down in bed tonight.
Our expected landing is 3:15 PM, but we arrive 3:33 PM. I wish that they would knock down the wall behind the conveyor belt. I not only want to see my baggage coming in, I want to see how it is being handled as well.
I take a Europcar home. I am already thinking of myself sitting inside my bedroom, spaced out and still unwilling to unpack and set aside my laundry.
But, it is great to be having dinner with my family again!
Looking back now, my only regret is that the workshop was too short. I was unable to use the exercises from a visual arts book that I adapted for application to creative writing.They are truly wonderful exercises and I hope to have a pick-up workshop with alumni some time in the future in order to use them. That, and that I have all these loose paper currency and coins that I cannot spend to buy anything in the Philippines.
Jalan-Jalan With Ronald In Lucky Chinatown And Quiapo On Quiapo Day, Friday, July 29, 2016
This store is owned by a friend. I bought a dozen, porcelain rice bowls to augment our Chinese dinner set, for Aubrey's birthday celebration tomorrow.
Bought a lot of purple yam sweetmeats here.
A rare sight? Excelente Ham is open and empty of other people, ALL FOR ME. We never buy ham in December to avoid the crush of atchays buying their Christmas ham. Why should we buy ham in December, anyway, when we can buy it within the eleven other months the rest of the year round?
Many superstitious atchays also abstain from meat on Fridays, and so Friday is always the best day to buy ham.
Back in Cubao. Seattle's Best Coffee is the best place to have SHORT-ORDER SNACKS.
I bought two pairs of spare, over-the-counter, reading glasses in Lucky Chinatown. It is the only place where you can find them now. Atchay optical shops in malls phased them out because they want you to spend your money on their more expensive lens refraction.
A woman begged me to buy this. I did. I prefer this fiberglass figure to those with fabric vestments, which are extremely hard to maintain.
Your Hangout message:
"Hi Sir Tony, good day! I just would like to ask if you can help me understand my friend's situation. He was recently confined in a hospital in ______ due to cutting his own _______ using an ____. Just before that, he raise money to find a _______ to do it but no _______ allowed him. He said that he is aware of what he did, that he is enlightened and just would like to be a better __________________________. He likes writing and creating artworks. He's name is _______________ and we met in ____________ long years ago but we are both not a native of the place. We have not seen each other for a bit long time. I knew that he is living in an ________ community couple of years ago. But just recently i got this news. As a friend, I am worried for him but i also want to understand what he's going through. Can you sense this picture of him which i grabbed from facebook of his recent companion/friend. Thank you very much."
My reply:
Hello ___________________!
I wish that I could counsel your friend in person, but that would take time, and I do not have that kind of time. My initial impression is that his fundamentalist religious beliefs pushed him over the edge and landed him in a psychotic, dissociative situation. His desire to cut off his ______ is a form of self-imposed punishment. I suggest that you allow him to figure out his problem for himself, and hope that time will not only alleviate his anxiety but also lead him to the path of religious maturity.
"Hi Sir Tony, good day! I just would like to ask if you can help me understand my friend's situation. He was recently confined in a hospital in ______ due to cutting his own _______ using an ____. Just before that, he raise money to find a _______ to do it but no _______ allowed him. He said that he is aware of what he did, that he is enlightened and just would like to be a better __________________________. He likes writing and creating artworks. He's name is _______________ and we met in ____________ long years ago but we are both not a native of the place. We have not seen each other for a bit long time. I knew that he is living in an ________ community couple of years ago. But just recently i got this news. As a friend, I am worried for him but i also want to understand what he's going through. Can you sense this picture of him which i grabbed from facebook of his recent companion/friend. Thank you very much."
My reply:
Hello ___________________!
I wish that I could counsel your friend in person, but that would take time, and I do not have that kind of time. My initial impression is that his fundamentalist religious beliefs pushed him over the edge and landed him in a psychotic, dissociative situation. His desire to cut off his ______ is a form of self-imposed punishment. I suggest that you allow him to figure out his problem for himself, and hope that time will not only alleviate his anxiety but also lead him to the path of religious maturity.
Thursday, July 28, 2016
The werewolf visited M.'s cafe. An egg mayo sandwich and a chocolate shake.
I suddenly realized why I like M.'s chocolate shake so much. It tastes exactly like the 1950s V-Milk chocolate shake that our dad would take me and my youngest sister to Quezon Boulevard for, when I was in grade school. The night, the vehicles on the road, and the cafe music brought it all back to me.
Funny that I had my turn taking my sons, and then my grandchildren, to ice cream parlors many times.
I suddenly realized why I like M.'s chocolate shake so much. It tastes exactly like the 1950s V-Milk chocolate shake that our dad would take me and my youngest sister to Quezon Boulevard for, when I was in grade school. The night, the vehicles on the road, and the cafe music brought it all back to me.
Funny that I had my turn taking my sons, and then my grandchildren, to ice cream parlors many times.
Caught The Dark Knight for the first time on HBO. Stayed and watched only for Heath Ledger. His make-up wasn't disturbing to me. The tip of his nose was.
Two-Face's make-up, on the other hand, was most impressive, though it seemed more computer graphics than prosthetics.
This movie was too long, which always happens whenever Batman has to contend with more than one villain. It also seemed unsuitable for TV--if you left the screen for three minutes and then came back, you wouldn't know what was going on.
Two-Face's make-up, on the other hand, was most impressive, though it seemed more computer graphics than prosthetics.
This movie was too long, which always happens whenever Batman has to contend with more than one villain. It also seemed unsuitable for TV--if you left the screen for three minutes and then came back, you wouldn't know what was going on.
We are no longer floundering.
After Ivy passed away Angelique, Aubrey, and I were groping our way through housekeeping: cooking, cleaning, laundry, doing groceries, managing expenses and bills, and taking care of the pets. Aubrey lost a lot of weight. Now, thankfully, Jeff lives with us and Benjie comes to do repairs. They are great blessings.
Ivy passed away exactly a year ago. I know that she is still very much with us, guiding us through the things we need.
After Ivy passed away Angelique, Aubrey, and I were groping our way through housekeeping: cooking, cleaning, laundry, doing groceries, managing expenses and bills, and taking care of the pets. Aubrey lost a lot of weight. Now, thankfully, Jeff lives with us and Benjie comes to do repairs. They are great blessings.
Ivy passed away exactly a year ago. I know that she is still very much with us, guiding us through the things we need.
My Singapore Travel Diary, Friday, July 22, 2016
A dry, sunny morning. My iPhone has conked out completely--it must be the voltage here, because I just know that it will surely charge properly and work again when I get home. Now thinking of switching back to Samsung, which seems more Asia-friendly. I unfortunately left the Seiko kinetic watch that my brother-in-law Maning gave me back home, but, strangely, I have learned to tell the time by the light of the sun and cast shadows.
A lot of men are traveling up and down the streets on motorized skateboards. I recall that, when people first used them in the Philippines, there was a furor--the same furor years ago when students started using calculators in classrooms and the same furor years later when the first cell phones appeared on the market. Filipino businessmen always get upset when they become too comfortable and then are threatened by new things for sale. That is why I am all for drastic changes in government. It keeps everyone in check, in rotation.
Anyway--Philippine sidewalks are meant neither for walking nor for skateboarding. But, then again, neither are the streets. Owners of motorized skateboards in the Philippines use their skateboards INDOORS, such as in supermarkets. Sadly, they look like disabled persons traveling on stand-up wheelchairs.
On the deck outside the hotel dining area the food supply man is smoking again. His wife works here, and he has a network of relatives servicing other hotels. The breakfast room is open from 6:00 AM through 10:30 AM weekdays, and 6:00 AM through 11:00 AM weekends. It is 8:25 AM now.
At 8:42 I am resting in my room watching a Jackie Chan movie. I am not a tourist, and, other than Chinatown and Little India on past visits, and the Merlion Park (is what I call it) where Morcel brought me two visits ago I have seen nothing else of Singapore and have no intention of changing that. Everyone has been urging me to go see Marina Bay Sands Hotel (but why should I want to see a hotel I neither own nor am staying in?), Sentosa Island, and Universal Studios (SG75 and I have to stay there the whole day to make the most of it). I have also been urged to just ride the train and go round the city, but, again, why would I do that when I can easily do that back home (whenever the trains are working, that is)?
Rain. The blackbirds take shelter. I take more photos of them. As soon as the rain lets up I walk to my favorite 7-11. I take photos of my wet shoe prints on the pavement. I buy a bottle of Pepsi (equivalent to PHP90), two more packs of U Kretek (I have been spending the equivalent of THOUSANDS of pesos on cigarettes by now), and a Toblerone (don't ask). I see the most awesome chandeliers for sale in an Italian lamp shop and wish I could take one home with me.
Sitting outside the cafe again I mull over why I have a lot of free time between work hours, and it is really because:
--I have no housework or chores to do. The hotel staff always picks up after me.
--I am disinterested in exploring the city and its suburbs.
--I do not have a night life.
--I need not look after family or any companion.
I am now thinking of the hotel I was in last year, which had smoking rooms and an interesting staff from the Philippines and from PROC. It was an old-fashioned hotel with bigger rooms, and it had a different kind of charm. It was Grand Hotel minus Greta Garbo.
Despite all this free time I feel that the hours go by ever so quickly. I arrived Saturday morning and it's now Friday, a week has passed, and there already moments in which I wish to be in my house in Cubao again.
Every time I am sitting here I see The Book Cafe across the street (there are similar cafes in the Philippines). If I were living here I'd probably check it out and have an espresso there. As it is I don't want to lose myself in their holdings because I didn't travel all the way here just to browse through books. (Yes, "browse through books" is the origin of "browse".) It has occurred to me to donate to them some of my own books, though.
The housekeeping supervisor gives me a handful of hotel pens to give to my friends back home.
For the second time now the chamber maid is cleaning the room with me inside it, deliberately oblivious to my semi-nudity. Ip Man 3 is showing again on TV.
In the lift, I teach a Filipina maid how to insert her card properly in the slot. Actually I don't know whether she is a Filipina or a maid. I just suddenly blurt out, "Baligtad ang card" and she responds properly.
I drop my reading glasses in the corridor and one of the chamber maids hands them over to me when I emerge from my room again.
E. calls to say he will pick me up in a few minutes.
I go down to my smoking area. A well-dressed man--an executive, Johnny Litton type, coyly asks to borrow my lighter, and I hand my lighter over to him. He smokes there with me and doesn't say a word. He could be Filipino or not. However he keeps throwing furtive glances at me, as though he himself is deliberating whether I am Filipino or not. Before he leaves he places an entire, unopened pack of Marlboro cigarettes on my bag and says, "This is for you." I thank him, and he walks quickly away. Beggars can't be choosers, especially when a Marlboro pack here is in the vicinity of PHP450.
E. and Clarissa arrive. Clarissa takes me to Cedar Girls' Secondary School, where I hold a playwriting workshop for a group of selected, gifted students. Ahmad, who was in one of my main workshops two years ago, is their teacher. I ask him to join the circle toward the end of the session. Ahmad gives Clarissa and me Cedar Girls' teddy bears. I choose the one in the yellow shirt, leaving the one in the blue shirt for Clarissa.
Clarissa and I take a taxi back to the theatre. On the way we encounter hideous traffic--yes, Manila-style traffic! It is just so incredible and now I am wondering whether devils' traffic isn't normal after all.
Dinner at a Chinese coffee shop, followed by the 5th evening of the main workshop. Jacky undergoes an emotional truth exercise.
11:00 PM outside the hotel cafe. I sit with a meteorologist from St. Charles, who works for a school here but is taking a flight to St. Charles tomorrow. We discuss the impending La Nina phenomenon.
Back in my room. Will you believe me if I say that Ip Man is on TV again?
I eat my Toblerone and finish it off with Pepsi, feeling that I've just eaten a bottle of Truffles and washed it down with expensive wine.
A lot of men are traveling up and down the streets on motorized skateboards. I recall that, when people first used them in the Philippines, there was a furor--the same furor years ago when students started using calculators in classrooms and the same furor years later when the first cell phones appeared on the market. Filipino businessmen always get upset when they become too comfortable and then are threatened by new things for sale. That is why I am all for drastic changes in government. It keeps everyone in check, in rotation.
Anyway--Philippine sidewalks are meant neither for walking nor for skateboarding. But, then again, neither are the streets. Owners of motorized skateboards in the Philippines use their skateboards INDOORS, such as in supermarkets. Sadly, they look like disabled persons traveling on stand-up wheelchairs.
On the deck outside the hotel dining area the food supply man is smoking again. His wife works here, and he has a network of relatives servicing other hotels. The breakfast room is open from 6:00 AM through 10:30 AM weekdays, and 6:00 AM through 11:00 AM weekends. It is 8:25 AM now.
At 8:42 I am resting in my room watching a Jackie Chan movie. I am not a tourist, and, other than Chinatown and Little India on past visits, and the Merlion Park (is what I call it) where Morcel brought me two visits ago I have seen nothing else of Singapore and have no intention of changing that. Everyone has been urging me to go see Marina Bay Sands Hotel (but why should I want to see a hotel I neither own nor am staying in?), Sentosa Island, and Universal Studios (SG75 and I have to stay there the whole day to make the most of it). I have also been urged to just ride the train and go round the city, but, again, why would I do that when I can easily do that back home (whenever the trains are working, that is)?
Rain. The blackbirds take shelter. I take more photos of them. As soon as the rain lets up I walk to my favorite 7-11. I take photos of my wet shoe prints on the pavement. I buy a bottle of Pepsi (equivalent to PHP90), two more packs of U Kretek (I have been spending the equivalent of THOUSANDS of pesos on cigarettes by now), and a Toblerone (don't ask). I see the most awesome chandeliers for sale in an Italian lamp shop and wish I could take one home with me.
Sitting outside the cafe again I mull over why I have a lot of free time between work hours, and it is really because:
--I have no housework or chores to do. The hotel staff always picks up after me.
--I am disinterested in exploring the city and its suburbs.
--I do not have a night life.
--I need not look after family or any companion.
I am now thinking of the hotel I was in last year, which had smoking rooms and an interesting staff from the Philippines and from PROC. It was an old-fashioned hotel with bigger rooms, and it had a different kind of charm. It was Grand Hotel minus Greta Garbo.
Despite all this free time I feel that the hours go by ever so quickly. I arrived Saturday morning and it's now Friday, a week has passed, and there already moments in which I wish to be in my house in Cubao again.
Every time I am sitting here I see The Book Cafe across the street (there are similar cafes in the Philippines). If I were living here I'd probably check it out and have an espresso there. As it is I don't want to lose myself in their holdings because I didn't travel all the way here just to browse through books. (Yes, "browse through books" is the origin of "browse".) It has occurred to me to donate to them some of my own books, though.
The housekeeping supervisor gives me a handful of hotel pens to give to my friends back home.
For the second time now the chamber maid is cleaning the room with me inside it, deliberately oblivious to my semi-nudity. Ip Man 3 is showing again on TV.
In the lift, I teach a Filipina maid how to insert her card properly in the slot. Actually I don't know whether she is a Filipina or a maid. I just suddenly blurt out, "Baligtad ang card" and she responds properly.
I drop my reading glasses in the corridor and one of the chamber maids hands them over to me when I emerge from my room again.
E. calls to say he will pick me up in a few minutes.
I go down to my smoking area. A well-dressed man--an executive, Johnny Litton type, coyly asks to borrow my lighter, and I hand my lighter over to him. He smokes there with me and doesn't say a word. He could be Filipino or not. However he keeps throwing furtive glances at me, as though he himself is deliberating whether I am Filipino or not. Before he leaves he places an entire, unopened pack of Marlboro cigarettes on my bag and says, "This is for you." I thank him, and he walks quickly away. Beggars can't be choosers, especially when a Marlboro pack here is in the vicinity of PHP450.
E. and Clarissa arrive. Clarissa takes me to Cedar Girls' Secondary School, where I hold a playwriting workshop for a group of selected, gifted students. Ahmad, who was in one of my main workshops two years ago, is their teacher. I ask him to join the circle toward the end of the session. Ahmad gives Clarissa and me Cedar Girls' teddy bears. I choose the one in the yellow shirt, leaving the one in the blue shirt for Clarissa.
Clarissa and I take a taxi back to the theatre. On the way we encounter hideous traffic--yes, Manila-style traffic! It is just so incredible and now I am wondering whether devils' traffic isn't normal after all.
Dinner at a Chinese coffee shop, followed by the 5th evening of the main workshop. Jacky undergoes an emotional truth exercise.
11:00 PM outside the hotel cafe. I sit with a meteorologist from St. Charles, who works for a school here but is taking a flight to St. Charles tomorrow. We discuss the impending La Nina phenomenon.
Back in my room. Will you believe me if I say that Ip Man is on TV again?
I eat my Toblerone and finish it off with Pepsi, feeling that I've just eaten a bottle of Truffles and washed it down with expensive wine.
In a truly democratic classroom, the teacher is not in full control of the discussion and the lesson.
Too many teachers, especially religious teachers, will claim that they are for democracy, but, once inside the classroom, they contradict themselves and become great dictators.
This is the kind of neurotic behavior our educational system should do without.
Too many teachers, especially religious teachers, will claim that they are for democracy, but, once inside the classroom, they contradict themselves and become great dictators.
This is the kind of neurotic behavior our educational system should do without.
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
My Singapore Travel Diary, Thursday, July 21, 2016
Slept 2:00 AM - 7:30 AM.
I seem to see more Filipinos around me now. They are hotel guests rather than staff members. Spent time in my room reading through the main workshop participants' group script. iPhone is working for now, and I am able to post stuff in cyberspace.
1:30 PM. Going down to the lobby. I love this hotel for providing two room cards. That way I can leave the power on even when I am out. I recall that atchay hotels will give you one card only, because they suspect other people of things that they themselves are guilty of.
Looking at street signs with unfamiliar names. Whenever I am here I know all of them by heart, and then I forget all of them when I get home. I believe it is to prevent myself from being in two places at the same time.
Early dinner in a Chinese coffee shop. I have learned to say "Pohk chuh" instead of "pork chop"; I am easier understood that way. Am also a bit distressed that I conveniently say "Can" and "Cannot" rather than express myself in complete sentences. I raise my cigarette pack, for example, and ask the waitress, "Can?" She nods and replies, "Can."
In the theatre, TT and the staff are all in black, looking like the staff of a Southeast Asian Theatre des Vampyrs.
Evening, 4th main workshop session. Yesterday and today, exercises in emotional truth. They are exhausting not only for all of the participants but also for myself.
We are holding a reading of the first part of Shen's play in this session. It allows the participants to see how dramaturgy goes.
Fehzah was absent yesterday because she sprained her ankle. She is in tonight but her right foot is bandaged. After the workshop I take her aside and massage her foot.
11:00 PM. Back in the hotel. I love how the door jambs are lined with LED lights.
The Chinese movies on TV have the same style of opening and end titles.
Slept 1:00 AM - 7:20 AM.
Dreamt of being in an old apartment and having to organize what I can only recall as history books, then of Eva B. entrusting her wayward nephew to me. I dread having to analyze it and interpret its meaning.
I seem to see more Filipinos around me now. They are hotel guests rather than staff members. Spent time in my room reading through the main workshop participants' group script. iPhone is working for now, and I am able to post stuff in cyberspace.
1:30 PM. Going down to the lobby. I love this hotel for providing two room cards. That way I can leave the power on even when I am out. I recall that atchay hotels will give you one card only, because they suspect other people of things that they themselves are guilty of.
Looking at street signs with unfamiliar names. Whenever I am here I know all of them by heart, and then I forget all of them when I get home. I believe it is to prevent myself from being in two places at the same time.
In the theatre, TT and the staff are all in black, looking like the staff of a Southeast Asian Theatre des Vampyrs.
Evening, 4th main workshop session. Yesterday and today, exercises in emotional truth. They are exhausting not only for all of the participants but also for myself.
We are holding a reading of the first part of Shen's play in this session. It allows the participants to see how dramaturgy goes.
Fehzah was absent yesterday because she sprained her ankle. She is in tonight but her right foot is bandaged. After the workshop I take her aside and massage her foot.
11:00 PM. Back in the hotel. I love how the door jambs are lined with LED lights.
The Chinese movies on TV have the same style of opening and end titles.
Slept 1:00 AM - 7:20 AM.
Dreamt of being in an old apartment and having to organize what I can only recall as history books, then of Eva B. entrusting her wayward nephew to me. I dread having to analyze it and interpret its meaning.
My History channel afternoon. Caught Barbarians Rising, this episode with Attila the Hun and Geiseric. It took 700 years for an empire to fall. Will it take the same amount of time to vanquish contemporary enemies?
Then caught In Search of Aliens and The UFO Files. Interesting.
Also watched Godzilla on HBO. Every Godzilla movie is really all about collateral damage--the one that is always left to the imagination of the audience.
Then caught In Search of Aliens and The UFO Files. Interesting.
Also watched Godzilla on HBO. Every Godzilla movie is really all about collateral damage--the one that is always left to the imagination of the audience.
My Singapore Travel Diary, Wednesday, July 20, 2016
Wednesday, July 20
Slept 1:30 AM - 7:09 AM. Heavy rain since 5:00 AM, with thunder and lightning.
Breakfast. On the smoking deck beyond the dining room I have a conversation with the hotel food supplier, who is also a smoker. He asks me where I am from. He says that I don't look like a Filipino, but probably because my maternal grandfather was Portuguese (from Portugal, not from Brazil).
Back in the room, I watch a wuxia. There are two women with classic faces who could very well be named Peach Blossom and Plum Fairy, out of a Judge Dee novel.
Now looking out through my ninth-floor window into the ninth-floor and lower-floor windows of the hotel wing across mine. I can actually see people naked on their beds or stripping to go into their bathrooms. The heavy drapes are left open by the chamber women. The sheer, light drapes are left on to let the daylight in, but hotel guests can be seen from other windows when their interior lights are switched on. The drapes and the curtains are 20 feet long because there is a loft in every room. A nightmare to sew.
11:30 AM. Walking to the theatre to meet up with TT and E. I take some photos on Alkaff Bridge.
Lunch with TT and E. in an expensive restaurant. I like TT's lunches because he has impeccable, gastronomic taste. He knows every good restaurant in the city.
After lunch Clarissa takes me in a taxi to the learning institute, where I conduct my second playwriting workshop for a second group of senior citizens. Afterward I go to the hotel room to rest.
This evening, Day 3 of the major workshop. The participants brought their own laptops and gadgets to encode their scripts.
I love the theatre's security doors and wish that I could have doors like those in my house. After the workshop I go to the nearest 7-11 outlet and buy a box of cereal, a bar of Hershey's dark chocolate, and two packs of U Kretek cigarettes. all of these very pricey. They would have cost far less in the Philippines.
Then I am in the smoking area outside the hotel cafe, waiting for the barter man, who does not show up. I go up to my room.
At 11:10 PM the barter man calls on the house phone and says that he is on his way and would I please wait for him. I instruct him to go directly to my room, 952, because I have already undressed. Minutes after I put down the phone I realize that the barter man might not be able to get up to my room because one can go up in the lifts only by using one's room card. I get dressed again and go down to the lobby to wait for the barter man, informing the lady at the counter that I am waiting for a delivery man whose name I do not know. I wait outside the glass doors and keep watch on the lift doors from outside, but no single man with a bag that looks like it could contain a B.L. figure comes by.
At 12:00 MN a frantic chamber person calls the lady at the counter, who then calls me. Apparently the barter man arrived, kept ringing my room bell, and was waiting in the corridor for half an hour. The barter man gets on the phone and tells me to stay at the counter. He comes down. I ask him how he could have gone to the ninth floor without a room card. He says, "I managed."
We sit outside the hotel cafe and I complete our deal.
It is way past midnight, but, as of now, I will do anything, and at any time, for B.L.
I shower before going to sleep. This is always about the time I get homesick and long for my own bed in Cubao.
My Singapore Travel Diary, Monday, July 18 - Tuesday, July 19, 2016
Monday, July 18
Slept 1:00 AM - 5:49 AM. A rainy morning. Skipping lunch due to a heavy breakfast and staying mostly in my hotel room.
Early in the afternoon E. picks me up in the lobby and introduces me to Clarissa, who is the senior high school intern assigned to assist me on this visit. Clarissa and I go to the learning institute, where I conduct a playwriting workshop for the first group of senior citizens. Afterward Clarissa takes me back to the hotel and I rest an hour. It rains again. I walk to another 7-11 outlet, then have an early dinner at a Chinese coffee shop.
6:30 PM. I walk over to the theatre. The first evening session of the major workshop begins.
It rains again. After the workshop I walk back, in the semi-darkness, to the hotel.
Tuesday, July 19
Slept 1:00 AM - 6:49 AM. It's Tuesday already but it seems only minutes ago that I arrived at Changi Airport. The hotel corridors always smell of sandalwood.
11:15 AM. Waiting in the theatre's green room for Isaac and his two readers to arrive. Clarissa monitors this dramaturgy session. Afterward E., Clarissa ,and I hold a meeting about the workshops with the senior citizens and the possibility of holding a reading for Beverly's play.
Now resting in the hotel room. Watching a wuxia about the male warrior who turned into a female warrior in order to gain additional powers. His/her name in this wuxia is Shu Buo.
W. messages me. A barter man wants to deliver to the hotel a B.L. figure, but I need to top up the price y SG10 for his taxi fare.
I go down to the smoking area to do some writing. I close my eyes and imagine myself in Cubao. I activate all of my senses and focus on the heat, the cafe music (which could very well be the music at M.'s cafe), and the sound of vehicles on the street (which could very well be vehicles on P. Tuazon Boulevard).
Despite the fact that I've been to Singapore at least six times before I am unable to get used to right-hand drive. I look left when I should be looking right, and vice-versa. I am almost run over at least two times.
In Singapore pedestrians are alarmed whenever I ask "Do you have the time?" or "May I have the time?" They think that they are being propositioned. They respond more quickly to "What time is it?" On the up side, however, complete strangers smile at you when they meet you in the street, as they do in DC. I smile at men and nod at women, especially women who are dressed in traditional clothing. I will also have to get used to E.'s prefixes of "So Tony..." as in "So Tony, let us go now to the workshop venue" and "So Tony, should we begin?"
Evening, second major workshop session, this one on character and dialogue.
Back in the hotel room now and watch _The Legend Is Born - Ip Man_, which I saw some time ago on RED, though the screen resolution here is so much better. Wing chun is interesting. The Ip Man movies sure have great production design and camera work. Frankly and unfortunately B.L.'s movies, filmed much, much earlier, were really quite crude.
Slept 1:00 AM - 5:49 AM. A rainy morning. Skipping lunch due to a heavy breakfast and staying mostly in my hotel room.
Early in the afternoon E. picks me up in the lobby and introduces me to Clarissa, who is the senior high school intern assigned to assist me on this visit. Clarissa and I go to the learning institute, where I conduct a playwriting workshop for the first group of senior citizens. Afterward Clarissa takes me back to the hotel and I rest an hour. It rains again. I walk to another 7-11 outlet, then have an early dinner at a Chinese coffee shop.
6:30 PM. I walk over to the theatre. The first evening session of the major workshop begins.
It rains again. After the workshop I walk back, in the semi-darkness, to the hotel.
Tuesday, July 19
Slept 1:00 AM - 6:49 AM. It's Tuesday already but it seems only minutes ago that I arrived at Changi Airport. The hotel corridors always smell of sandalwood.
11:15 AM. Waiting in the theatre's green room for Isaac and his two readers to arrive. Clarissa monitors this dramaturgy session. Afterward E., Clarissa ,and I hold a meeting about the workshops with the senior citizens and the possibility of holding a reading for Beverly's play.
Now resting in the hotel room. Watching a wuxia about the male warrior who turned into a female warrior in order to gain additional powers. His/her name in this wuxia is Shu Buo.
W. messages me. A barter man wants to deliver to the hotel a B.L. figure, but I need to top up the price y SG10 for his taxi fare.
I go down to the smoking area to do some writing. I close my eyes and imagine myself in Cubao. I activate all of my senses and focus on the heat, the cafe music (which could very well be the music at M.'s cafe), and the sound of vehicles on the street (which could very well be vehicles on P. Tuazon Boulevard).
Despite the fact that I've been to Singapore at least six times before I am unable to get used to right-hand drive. I look left when I should be looking right, and vice-versa. I am almost run over at least two times.
In Singapore pedestrians are alarmed whenever I ask "Do you have the time?" or "May I have the time?" They think that they are being propositioned. They respond more quickly to "What time is it?" On the up side, however, complete strangers smile at you when they meet you in the street, as they do in DC. I smile at men and nod at women, especially women who are dressed in traditional clothing. I will also have to get used to E.'s prefixes of "So Tony..." as in "So Tony, let us go now to the workshop venue" and "So Tony, should we begin?"
Evening, second major workshop session, this one on character and dialogue.
Back in the hotel room now and watch _The Legend Is Born - Ip Man_, which I saw some time ago on RED, though the screen resolution here is so much better. Wing chun is interesting. The Ip Man movies sure have great production design and camera work. Frankly and unfortunately B.L.'s movies, filmed much, much earlier, were really quite crude.
My Singapore Travel Diary, Saturday, July 16 - Sunday, July 17, 2016
Saturday, July 16
Had only three hours sleep, was dressed in time to see Aubrey off to her college admissions Saturday review class, and went on-line briefly while waiting for Ronald to pick me up. No last-minute packing--I'd packed slowly over two weeks.
Ronald picks me up 8:00 AM sharp as previously agreed. He is my favorite driver. Arrive Terminal 3 very early. I'd abandoned my miniature airplane collection last year and am not buying any this time around. Seattle's Best is no longer there; I am told that it moved to the upper floor. A very bad lunch at Tapa King.
Thirty-minute flight delay. On the plane watched The Jungle Book (alas, just for kids) and then Batman vs. Superman (alas, the entire cast looks old and tired, and the movie seems comprised of rehashed scenes from movies I'd seen before).
E. meets me at Changi Airport. We queue for a cab and get one with a very friendly and loquacious, elderly cab driver. It is National Day, and I am told that there will be celebrations the entire week plus fireworks in the evening. It is Singapore's 51st year. A flock of choppers and the huge, red-and-white flag hover above us on the way to the hotel.
E. checks me in. My room is on the ninth floor. It has an iron staircase leading to a loft with sitting space that I know I will never use. Afterward E. and I go out again so that I can see where the mall supermarket is. It is small, and I will never see a supermarket as huge and as replete with all kinds of stock as Shopwise and Hypermart are. E. drops me off at a Chinese coffee shop, where I have dinner. I buy a pack of cigarettes at a 7-11 outlet before going back to the hotel.
I am permanently keeping the TV on the Chinese movie channel. Ip Man 3 is showing. Some time ago I considered buying the Enterbay 1/6 Ip Man action figure because he was B.L.'s teacher after all. I eventually decided not to, however. The figure is that of Donnie Yen, the actor who played Ip Man, rather than Ip Man himself.
Angelique said that there would be available wi-fi everywhere, and she was right, except that I have only my iPhone, which will give me trouble over my entire visit because its battery doesn't charge even with the adaptors that the hotel and the theatre are lending me. I am given the hotel password for the units on the second floor. I am unable to use them, though. I left my blogspot, Google, and facebook password list at home.
I believe I will be unable to sleep properly, because I was on a 2:00 AM - 11:00 sleeping schedule back home. Surprisingly, I am able to, and even rise early to beat the sunrise.
Sunday, July 17
A very early breakfast. I saunter to the outdoor area of the ground-floor cafe, which is now my smoking area. It has comfortable seating, and I do some writing. Time passes by quickly. It is Day 1, but I know that I will all too soon be at home again, encoding these words in my electronic diary.
I am thinking of Chinatown and Little India and all the things I saw there last year and want to go back for, even if I have already learned not to do that, because they will surely no longer be there.
E. picks me up in a cab. We go to the ________ ________ ________, where I conduct my first playwriting workshop, this one for 11 participants, including youth at risk and their NGO officers.
Back at the hotel, Teow Li picks me up. We go to the flea market and have a Thai lunch. As I predicted, none of the things I saw last year are there. The lesson, of course, is to buy something that you really like instead of coming back for it another time. I do see a huge mala bead embedded in carnelian, a bronze dragon, and two finely detailed, red-clay, Bodhisattva statuettes.
Teow Li brings me back to the hotel in a cab. I walk over to the theatre, where I conduct dramaturgy sessions for Shen, and then for Beverly. E. says that none of the interns are available to escort me to Helmi's play this evening. Beverly is glad to do so. The entire run has been sold out, and Helmi and Beverly were co-participants in the workshop I conducted two years ago.
I go back to the hotel to rest an hour and take a nap.
Later E. and Beverly ring me up on the house phone. I dress up quickly and take the lift down.
Helmi's play is at La Salle College of the Arts, which, like the La Salle network in the Philippines, was founded by French La Sallite brothers. I enjoy Helmi's play, a riotous comedy. I especially enjoy plays that I dramaturge on paper, listen to in readings, and afterward see on stage, noting their evolution.
After the play Helmi, Beverly, and I go backstage to congratulate the cast. I am very happy to see, once again, Meng Chue, who stars in the play. She also starred in my play Trip to The South when TheatreWorks produced it in the 90s. Like me, she is now in her 60s.
Long dinner with Helmi and Beverly at a Chinese coffee shop. Beverly then drops me off at the hotel in a taxi.
I am wondering what is different so far, and it occurs to me that Filipinos no longer stare at me, come up to me, and ask, "Pilipino ka?"
Had only three hours sleep, was dressed in time to see Aubrey off to her college admissions Saturday review class, and went on-line briefly while waiting for Ronald to pick me up. No last-minute packing--I'd packed slowly over two weeks.
Ronald picks me up 8:00 AM sharp as previously agreed. He is my favorite driver. Arrive Terminal 3 very early. I'd abandoned my miniature airplane collection last year and am not buying any this time around. Seattle's Best is no longer there; I am told that it moved to the upper floor. A very bad lunch at Tapa King.
Thirty-minute flight delay. On the plane watched The Jungle Book (alas, just for kids) and then Batman vs. Superman (alas, the entire cast looks old and tired, and the movie seems comprised of rehashed scenes from movies I'd seen before).
E. meets me at Changi Airport. We queue for a cab and get one with a very friendly and loquacious, elderly cab driver. It is National Day, and I am told that there will be celebrations the entire week plus fireworks in the evening. It is Singapore's 51st year. A flock of choppers and the huge, red-and-white flag hover above us on the way to the hotel.
E. checks me in. My room is on the ninth floor. It has an iron staircase leading to a loft with sitting space that I know I will never use. Afterward E. and I go out again so that I can see where the mall supermarket is. It is small, and I will never see a supermarket as huge and as replete with all kinds of stock as Shopwise and Hypermart are. E. drops me off at a Chinese coffee shop, where I have dinner. I buy a pack of cigarettes at a 7-11 outlet before going back to the hotel.
I am permanently keeping the TV on the Chinese movie channel. Ip Man 3 is showing. Some time ago I considered buying the Enterbay 1/6 Ip Man action figure because he was B.L.'s teacher after all. I eventually decided not to, however. The figure is that of Donnie Yen, the actor who played Ip Man, rather than Ip Man himself.
Angelique said that there would be available wi-fi everywhere, and she was right, except that I have only my iPhone, which will give me trouble over my entire visit because its battery doesn't charge even with the adaptors that the hotel and the theatre are lending me. I am given the hotel password for the units on the second floor. I am unable to use them, though. I left my blogspot, Google, and facebook password list at home.
I believe I will be unable to sleep properly, because I was on a 2:00 AM - 11:00 sleeping schedule back home. Surprisingly, I am able to, and even rise early to beat the sunrise.
Sunday, July 17
A very early breakfast. I saunter to the outdoor area of the ground-floor cafe, which is now my smoking area. It has comfortable seating, and I do some writing. Time passes by quickly. It is Day 1, but I know that I will all too soon be at home again, encoding these words in my electronic diary.
I am thinking of Chinatown and Little India and all the things I saw there last year and want to go back for, even if I have already learned not to do that, because they will surely no longer be there.
E. picks me up in a cab. We go to the ________ ________ ________, where I conduct my first playwriting workshop, this one for 11 participants, including youth at risk and their NGO officers.
Back at the hotel, Teow Li picks me up. We go to the flea market and have a Thai lunch. As I predicted, none of the things I saw last year are there. The lesson, of course, is to buy something that you really like instead of coming back for it another time. I do see a huge mala bead embedded in carnelian, a bronze dragon, and two finely detailed, red-clay, Bodhisattva statuettes.
Teow Li brings me back to the hotel in a cab. I walk over to the theatre, where I conduct dramaturgy sessions for Shen, and then for Beverly. E. says that none of the interns are available to escort me to Helmi's play this evening. Beverly is glad to do so. The entire run has been sold out, and Helmi and Beverly were co-participants in the workshop I conducted two years ago.
I go back to the hotel to rest an hour and take a nap.
Later E. and Beverly ring me up on the house phone. I dress up quickly and take the lift down.
Helmi's play is at La Salle College of the Arts, which, like the La Salle network in the Philippines, was founded by French La Sallite brothers. I enjoy Helmi's play, a riotous comedy. I especially enjoy plays that I dramaturge on paper, listen to in readings, and afterward see on stage, noting their evolution.
After the play Helmi, Beverly, and I go backstage to congratulate the cast. I am very happy to see, once again, Meng Chue, who stars in the play. She also starred in my play Trip to The South when TheatreWorks produced it in the 90s. Like me, she is now in her 60s.
Long dinner with Helmi and Beverly at a Chinese coffee shop. Beverly then drops me off at the hotel in a taxi.
I am wondering what is different so far, and it occurs to me that Filipinos no longer stare at me, come up to me, and ask, "Pilipino ka?"
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
Portrait Of Saint Pedro Calungsod By Rafael Del Casal
Finally came back from the house of fellow artist and friend Rafael del Casal. He is, in fact, my favorite Filipino painter. I asked him to make me a VERY faithful copy of his portrait of the second Filipino saint, Saint Pedro Calungsod, for our family altar. It is, to me, the painting that made him internationally famous. It was chosen by Ricardo Cardinal Vidal as the official portrait that was sent to the Vatican, on which the huge mosaic was based.
It took him a slow, one and a half years to finish this painting for me. Like me, he doesn't like repeating his works, and will most likely not do this for anyone else again.
This and succeeding photos from the Internet. Above: The original portrait, now in the archdiocese of Cebu.
Succeeding photos show how the image has been used for a variety of purposes:
It took him a slow, one and a half years to finish this painting for me. Like me, he doesn't like repeating his works, and will most likely not do this for anyone else again.
The portrait, as yet unframed, temporarily rests on our family altar.
This and succeeding photos from the Internet. Above: The original portrait, now in the archdiocese of Cebu.
Succeeding photos show how the image has been used for a variety of purposes:
The portrait reproduced in mosaic for the Vatican:
Useless controversy. After the portrait was publicized in the Philippines, malicious rumor was spread by the envious because the portrait was modeled by a basketball player. But, so what? All of the Renaissance and post-Renaissance portraits of the saints were based on models.
It is unfortunate that the rumor-mongers did not use the actual photograph that Rafael used, that of a young and innocent-looking youth named Ronald Tubid.
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