one last taste of luxury

and then it's back to being a poor, hungry student again...
siiiiiiigh, i'll miss business trips!
[manila, philippines]

missing the action

On the front page of the International Herald Tribune on November 30, 2007:
Mutiny is quelled in Manila luxury hotel Filipino police officers taking cover behind an armored
personnel carrier that was used to crash upon the doors of a five-star hotel and end a mutiny.

I was in Japan when it happened.

I learned about it in the midst of our farewell dinner, while I was happily sampling glasses of champagne, sake, and green tea cheesecakes. I suppose I should have been scared or shocked, but instead I only found the news mildly amusing.

Strangely enough, the last time something like this happened in the Philippines, I had been in Toronto. I had turned on the telly to see tanks driving along Manila's streets, and soldiers walking around with machine guns. From that vantage point, Manila seemed like a terrifying place to live in.

I made a panicked call back home, only to find out that everything was normal. No one was rushing home, some people were even going out for dinner. Despite the fact that apparently tanks were patrolling the streets.

Oh, what being a Filipino can do to you.

Nothing will faze you anymore.

perya sa metrowalk

I have curly hair.

For the longest time, I hated it -- it was dry, frizzy, and unruly. I spent my childhood dreaming of having straight hair, but no matter how many hair products & treatments I tried, my hair just seemed to have a mind of its own.

Now that I'm older, I've learned to embrace my curly hair. Unfortunately, most salons haven't -- the minute I walk into a salon, there is always someone trying to convince me to straighten my hair. An hour or so of annoying salestalk later, they try a last attempt to convert me by insisting on blow-drying my hair straight. Which I absolutely detest. With hair as curly as mine, blow-drying my hair straight means ending up with: a) my hair pulled out of my scalp by attempts to brush out the kinks; and b) my scalp burning from the amount of time spent under the blow dryer.

So I was pleasantly surprised when I walked into the Azta Urban Salon at Metrowalk and didn't get a single comment about straightening my hair. Not only that, they actually knew how to handle curly hair -- from the wide-toothed comb they ran through my hair and the diffuser used to dry it. Hallelujah! I totally digged that squeeze bottle shampoo and the Davines hair color, too!

I walked out of that salon with a spring in my step and even more spring in my curls! :)

***

In case you haven't been to Metrowalk recently, do check out their urban take on the traditional perya. (Did you know that Metrowalk was built over what was previously the Payanig sa Pasig?) Win your girlfriend (or boyfriend) a stuffed toy by tossing coins on a table, shooting hoops, hammering all your stress away, tossing rings over bottles, and riding a bull cowboy-style. Kulang na lang cotton candy! Weee!

*Azta Urban Salon has branches at Metrowalk (2nd Level, Metrowalk Commercial Complex, Meralco Avenue, Pasig), Katipunan (2nd Level, SMRC Building, Katipunan Ave., Loyola Heights, Quezon City (in front of Miriam College)), Robinsons Metroeast (Body Senses, 4th Level, Robinsons Metroeast, Marcos Highway, Pasig) and Eastwood City (2nd Level, City Walk 2, Eastwood City, Libis (above Starbucks and A Different Bookstore)).

cupcakes and aloha

If you've been out and about the metro, then you've probably heard about the flock of new restaurants at the newly-opened Piazza @ Serendra. Being exiled to the Ortigas office has slowed down my attendance rate for new hotspots in the metro, so it took a workday in Makati for me to finally make my way to Serendra.

Being the sugarholic that I am, I immediately made a beeline for Cupcakes by Sonja. My previous experience with cupcakes being Pan-A-Cup cupcakes you could get at your nearest suking tindahan, I was curious about what these much-hyped cupcakes would taste like. The tiny shop looked like those candy shops I'd fantasized about as a child-- pink striped walls, giant peppermints hanging from the ceiling, and a display case filled with the prettiest cupcakes I'd ever seen. They have 27 kinds of cupcakes, with prices ranging from PhP48.00 for the Vanilla Sunshine to a whopping PhP130.00 for the Heavenly Pistachio and Sweet Pleasures cupcakes. I picked the prettiest cakes out of the bunch and happily walked out with six cupcakes in their dainty powder blue box.

Undeniably, all of the cupcakes looked gorgeous... but how did they taste? It was really a case of hit-and-miss. The Melt-In-Your-Mouth Flourless Chocolate Cupcake (described as "a dense Valrhona flourless chocolate with rich, velvety texture") was absolutely divine, but the rest of the cupcakes were nothing out of the ordinary. Yes, they were indeed different from the cupcakes we're used to, but then again, at PhP50-130 you could also get an equally delicious (and larger) slice of cake. Cupcakes by Sonja is worth a try, but in the end you're just paying extra to get your cake in a cup.

Up next was dinner at the Hawaiian-inspired Polu Kai Grill. I came in hoping to learn what Hawaiian food was all about, but Polu Kai's menu leaves much doubt as to whether they serve authentic Hawaiian cuisine. The menu seemed more like a fusion of American and Asian dishes than anything particularly Hawaiian, but... I've never been to Hawaii anyway so I can't really tell. :P

We had the baked oysters, the Giant Squid Steak, and the Loco Moco (basically a Salisbury Steak topped with a fried egg). I liked how tender the squid was despite how thick it was, and the grilled flavor of the Loco Moco's burger reminded me of my favorite burgers from the Utopia Cafe in Toronto.

The menu isn't as fresh and adventurous as I'd hoped it would be -- in fact, it's very simple fare, but I found it quite tasty. Prices are a bit hefty at PhP350 up for the main courses, but if you have carnivorous fantasies of sinking your teeth into inch-thick burgers and squid steaks (roar!), The Polu Kai Grill is a mighty contender.

*Cupcakes by Sonja and The Polu Kai Grill are located at the Serendra Piazza, Bonifacio Global City, Taguig.

winter wonderlands and sunsets

The rink glows a magical, icy blue. People glide through the mist, bundled up in sweaters. Suddenly, a collective murmur of excitement ripples through the crowd as snowflakes start drifting gently from the sky.

Yes, I'm still in Manila.

SM Mall of Asia's International Ice Skating Rink, to be exact.

After the bout of warm weather we'd been having recently, the cloud of fog rising from the ice was impossible to resist. I soon found myself lacing on a pair of skates, raring to join the beautiful, romantic, and otherworldly melange of people twirling on the ice. Of course, the moment I stepped on the ice, it was neither beautiful nor romantic. Otherwordly, perhaps -- I must have looked like some freak show clanging across the rink.

An hour of 'winter' and an immeasurable amount of public humiliation later, I realized I wouldn't be having any Serendipity-esque moments anytime soon (at least not until I continued to skate like a clown)... so I threw in my skates and headed over to the esplanade to watch the sun set instead. There's nothing quite like sitting on the seawall and watching the waves break across the rocks, letting the salty sea breeze run through your hair. I've always loved places where the metropolis meets nature, because of how it allows me to be near the addicting hustle and bustle of the big city, yet feel so grounded at the same time -- and the esplanade behind the Mall of Asia is a wonderful example of such a place.

I remember the last time I felt this calm and at peace with myself. I was sitting on the shores of Lake Ontario, wondering what would happen to me after I left Toronto.

I thought, then, that the end had come.

Now I know it was only the beginning.

galileo enoteca - not another italian restaurant

Not another Italian restaurant.

That was my first thought when I heard about Galileo Enoteca. I mean, there can only be so much Italian restaurants in Metro Manila -- it was starting to get too cumbersome to weed out the good places from the multitude of mediocre ones.

Galileo Enoteca, however, proved to be quite a gem.

Tucked on small side street just past the Edsa & Shaw Boulevard intersection, the enoteca looks tiny when viewed from outside. Primarily a delicatessen, you will be greeted with a chiller stocked with an exquisite assortment of meats and cheeses as you step in. It's a bit cramped in the foyer, but deeper into this brick-walled cellar are more shelves of Italian fine foods (and Baci chocolates!) and wine. Candlelight, frescos on the wall, wooden tables & benches complete the quiet, romantic atmosphere.

The menu contains the usual Italian fare, but Galileo Enoteca is set apart from most Italian restaurants in Metro Manila by their use of items sold in the deli (vs. locally sourced ingredients) for some of the dishes in the menu. I opted for a prix fixe meal for PhP400 a person. These meals change daily depending on whatever ingredients are on hand. Today, it consisted of fresh anchovies & focaccia, fresh olives, a cold cuts (prosciutto, salami, and mortadella) & cheese platter, salad drizzled with vinnaigrette (which was delicious considering I don't normally like vinaigrette), a plate of Penne Con Porcini (a cream-based pasta with Shiitake mushrooms), a glass of wine (your choice of house red, white, or sweet wine) and a cup of Molinari coffee (you can opt for tea instead) to complete your meal.

Needless to say, I was completely bowled over.

Brilliant.

*Galileo Enoteca is located at Calbayog corner Malinao St., Mandaluyong City. Reservations are recommended.

the casanova that failed to live up to his name

I had heard some buzz about the Gran Caffe Casanova Ristorante Italiano, which promised fine dining under the stars and a breathtaking view of the metropolis. It sounded lovely enough, so I jumped at the chance for al fresco dining at a spot that wasn't as crowded and noisy as most restaurants.

The disappointment started to sink in the moment I got there. The pictures I had seen of the restaurant showed what looked like a small, romantic garden with a charming little fountain. Apparently. that picture was the best part -- the rest of the garden was just an area enclosed and separated from the Starbucks next door by some potted plants with christmas lights.

There was no one waiting at the entrance to seat customers, so we wandered into the restaurant and stood awkwardly in the middle before a waiter took notice. He then proceeded to hand us worn-out menus with water stains on them. The choices looked impressive enough, offering freshly-made pasta and pizza dough, although it was a bit on the expensive side at PhP350 up for the dishes. Perhaps the poor service and shabby menus would be redeemed by the food.

We ordered pasta (I forgot which, since the first two I ordered were not available and I finally had to settle for what the waiter recommended) and the Quattro Stagioni pizza, which combines four of their pizzas in one. The pasta is okay, although I've tasted better. The pizza disappointed me completely -- the crust was slightly rubbery and suspiciously tasted like the frozen pizza crusts you can buy from supermarkets, and there were so few toppings I might as well have ordered a plain cheese pizza.

Call me fussy, but there really was nothing fine dining about the place except for the price. Even the table setting -- for a self-proclaimed fine dining place -- was a fork, a knife, and a single paper towel. Mas madami pang tissue sa Jollibee. I guess I would have been more forgiving if they hadn't actually promised "fine dining under the stars" on those tacky paper placemats -- they aimed for the stars, but fell short of expectations.

If you're up for real Italian cuisine, there are so many places that serve waaaaaay better pastas and pizzas at waaaaaay lower prices. Greenwich Pizza, for example. (Okay, I'm being mean here. :P I'm just pissed I had to pay PhP600.00 for a lousy dinner.)

*The Gran Caffè Casanova Ristorante Italiano is located at The Clubhouse, Corinthian Hills, Temple Drive, Quezon City. Open from 11 am – 12 midnight (Monday-Sunday). (632) 638-2989 / 632- 7617

peri-peri good

What is a Peri-Peri Chicken?

That was the question on my mind as I walked into the restaurant. I initially suspected it was just chicken inasal with a gimmick, since peri-peri sounded like an Ilonggo word. Or maybe inihaw na manok that was trying to be more wordly, hence the interiors that somehow reminded me of Brazil Brazil.

Obviously, I'm not very cultured.

After perusing the menu and not finding anything to explain what a peri-peri chicken was (except for the phrase "spit-fire grilled chicken", which didn't help much since I had no idea what a spit-fire was), I decided to let my stomach do the thinking.

The menu centers on the chicken, which comes in Lemon Garlic, Peri Mild, and Peri Hot flavors. There's an array of side dishes to complement your chicken (tortilla chips, java garlic rice, tortillas, corn kernels, macaroni & cheese, potato salad, and coleslaw), other chicken dishes like chicken wraps and chicken strips, and some other ulams for those who don't like poultry. Prices are reasonable, ranging from PhP100-300.

I'm starving from all that mental effort by this time, so I decide to load up on the carbs and order the the lemon garlic chicken, the potato salad, and the java garlic rice. Service is quick and friendly; the meal comes in no time at all, and with it... peri-peri heaven. The chicken is perfectly moist and juicy, and comes with a special dipping sauce which seems to be made out of oil, but who cares? It's tasty! If you want to up the heat factor, douse your chicken with the bottles of Peri Mild and Peri Hot sauce on the table.

Thirty minutes later I am leaning back on my chair, rubbing my stomach. I still had no idea what a peri-peri chicken was -- it's not chicken inasal, nor is it inihaw na manok, but it definitely was peri-peri good.

*After doing my homework, I discovered that peri-peri is actually the name used for the African Bird's Eye chili in Portuguese and some African languages. It is often used in Portuguese cuisine to prepare sauces and marinades for roasted and grilled dishes... and so, peri-peri chicken!

*Peri Peri Chicken is located at the Promenade, Greenhills.

the cream puffs that went through a snowstorm

The golden brown, crusty shells caught my eye before I even noticed the sign above it.

Beard Papa's Fresh 'n Natural Cream Puffs.

I thought it was a rather odd name for a shop. Beard Papa? And weren't all cream puffs fresh and natural anyway? I chalked it up to Engrish -- something must have gotten lost in translation. Besides, the sight of those cream puffs were too tantalizing to ignore. I had a temporary moment of paralysis as I imagined sinking my teeth into that crusty, flaky pastry as the cream oozed out of the shell.

I ♥ cream puffs.

So I begrudgingly shelled over fifty pesos for one, even if I thought it was a bit outrageous for a single cream puff. I figured, there must be something special about those cream puffs if that's the only thing they sold.

The Taste Test? I was disappointed. I found the cream filling rather bland; and it lacked that caramelized sugar on top that made cream puffs so deliciously gooey. Maybe I was just expecting the Filipino version of the cream puff (think Puffs & Stuff along Commonwealth), because apparently Beard Papa's is setting off cream puff crazes everywhere.

Anyway, I was a bit miffed at having had to shell out fifty pesos for a cream puff, so I decided to make my own. And voila...

Sheila's Papa's Fresh n' Natural and Cheap Cream Puffs! ;)

*Beard Papa's Fresh 'n Natural Cream Puffs are available at Food Choices Glorietta, SM Megamall Building A, and at the Greenhills Promenade.

the outsider

sometimes, the world can make you feel like an outsider.
and sometimes, the outside isn't so bad after all.

[museum cafe, greenbelt 4]

out on the town

the city against the stillness of manila bay
[taken from the harbour square complex, ccp, manila]


ice cream & candlelight
[at the manila peninsula. brownout kaya may candle. ;)]

do one thing everyday that scares you

"...the blues are because you're getting fat or maybe it's been raining too long.
You're sad, that's all. But the mean reds are horrible. You're afraid and you

sweat like hell, but you don't know what you're afraid of..."
--"Breakfast at Tiffany's", Truman Capote

It's been three weeks since I got back, and I'm still lost in the madness of getting my life back to normal. Wake. Eat. Work. Sleep. Wake. Eat. Work. Sleep. The routine is madness; yet I find myself thrown into it by forces of expectation & feigned responsibility. This is normal because this is what everybody expects of me. This is normal because this is what a mature, responsible adult would do.

I swallow this like a bitter pill.

It rained miserably the first week; the dark clouds settled over Manila the way they had over me. In the midst of warm hellos and welcome backs, my smile quivered at the edges. It terrified me. Here I was with the people I called my life, yet the thing I wanted to do most was to bolt and run away.

I was home, but this was no longer home. Nor is Toronto, nor New York, nor anywhere else in the world.

I no longer had a home.

*****

But I am okay.

It's nice to say that, even if only to myself. I am okay. It hasn't been stellar, but life goes on. There are still days when I wake up and feel that emptiness; where that part of me I lost when I left used to be. But if people can survive wars and deaths and nature's catastrophes, surely I am strong enough to survive this.

Toronto. That life seems so far away now, I wonder if it had only been a dream. Sometimes, in the middle of my daily rush, I catch myself standing, transfixed, before the poster of Toronto on my closet door. It's an aerial shot of the city, something I had tacked there years back not knowing how much the city would mean to me one day. My finger traces the outlines of the buildings, until I end up on Queen Street West. And, for a moment, I almost see myself walking down the street again.

I remember what it was like to be happy.

*****

Do one thing everyday that scares you.

I am scared as hell, but I promise to go on, because I know it will be worth it.

Life doesn't have to be this way.

the wanderer

Five months.

That's how long I've been gone.

It could have been a lifetime.

I've spent the last 24 hours in airports and airplanes, drifting in and out of a restless sleep. It's all a blur now, like some drug-induced haze, except the only thing I am on is pain. I've had to say goodbye so many times in the past few weeks that I am no longer capable of feeling anything except for that dull ache of a broken heart.

What bothered me most was I didn't know if I was going home, or leaving home.

In my brief states of consciousness, I could not even concentrate long enough to finish a page of the novel I had brought, or listen to the inflight radio before the music turned to garish noises pounding in my head. I could only stare out the windows, watching clouds roll by and icecaps floating on a boundless sea.

Then I saw myself, slipping away.

the day is breaking and time is taking
the love we're making away
this life can only leave us lonely
there's no tommorow,
just another little hole in her heart
- another little hole, aqualung

where the streets have no name

Because it's the new year, and with the new year should come new experiences, I commuted to Carriedo and Intramuros today. I used the public transportation system (if it can be called a system) for the first time in ages. And by public transport, I do not mean taxis and FXs -- I'm referring to the good old, sweaty siksikan of the LRT1 and jeepneys. And in Manila, to boot!

*clap clap*

I'm so proud of myself. It's amazing what two years of a Makati yuppie lifestyle can do to you. I feel like I've somehow reverted back to that convent-bred brat who didn't know anything masa and made tusok-tusok the fishball.

Yes, I can travel halfway around the world alone and brave the subways of New York at night, but I am seriously terrified of the old Manila area. Maybe it's a combination of me being directionally-challenged + my acute aversion to hot, sweaty crowds + me just being my praning self. Feeling ko, either mawawala, ma-sna-snatchan or ma-ho-hold up ako. But you know what? I actually experienced just the opposite.

I realized that there was actually some order to all that chaos.

I met a man with no hands playing a tune on a plastic harmonica, who chose not to beg for alms but to work for it.

I met a vendor on the street, who took time out from hawking her wares to teach me how to get to Intramuros from Carriedo.

I met a jeepney driver who gave me a kind smile as he told me, "Miss, diyan na po ang babaan sa Immigrations."

I met a government officer who actually served with a twinkle in his eyes, and entertained all my questions no matter how stupid or how many I asked.

I met a man carrying a palanggana along the edge of the Pasig River, and a woman with her two children sleeping on a pedicab, who pointed me in the direction of the MacArthur Bridge.

Okay, so they gave me the wrong directions, causing me to end up under the bridge instead of on the bridge. But then I met a guard who helped me clamber up the railings of the bridge (yes, it was the ultimate, wa-poise moment) so that I could reach Sta. Cruz.

And just when I thought I couldn't catch an LRT ride home because it was too full, an old lady pulled me into the train so I didn't have to wait for the next one.

It's the people like these who make me feel that somehow, there is hope for our country. And maybe, just maybe, it's worth it to stay in the country and wait for the day when things will get better.

Manila, my Manila. Either you love it or hate it.

why criminals abound in the philippines

I always thought I was impervious to the inefficiencies of government offices. After all, I came from UP -- I've had 4 years experience waiting in insufferably long lines that I've managed to become numb to it all. Until I tried to get an NBI clearance. I'm so agitated I feel like I'm about to have a heart attack. I need to cuss. Maybe even throw things. Or ram a table down an NBI employee's throat.

December 22. 10am. I went to the NBI satellite office in Pasig, which was supposedly "equipped with a computer and could release clearances within 30 minutes." I paid, filled up the application form, smiled for the camera, and got fingerprinted... then the nightmare started.

The moment I queued at the releasing area, the girl at the counter looks at me and says, "Miss, diba kaka-picture lang sa iyo? Mamaya pa yan. Bumalik ka na lang ng 1pm."

What?!? It took less than a minute to type my name into the database and check if I had a 'hit' or not. But I'm nice and polite, so fine. I sit on a bench and wait, until I realize that the girl behind me in line was already able to claim her clearance.

So I go back to the girl at the counter. "Miss, bakit sha, nakuha na? E nauna pa to inapply?"

She takes a look at my receipt. "Santiago pala last name mo e. Bumalik ka na lang after three working days." Great. Three working days na ngayon, just because of my last name.

"E ano ngayon kung Santiago? Bakit, alphabetical ba pag-process niyan?"

"Common name kasi ang Santiago e." What the hell?!? After bugging her more, she finally checks the database (which, as I said, took less than a minute).

Unfortunately, I did have a hit. I figured it was because of my DOST scholarship, so I showed her a letter from DOST stating that I was allowed to obtain a clearance. She doesn't even glance at it. "Hindi pwede. Record check talaga to. Bumalik ka na lang after three working days."

Fine. Fine.

Dec 29. 10am. Today, no one is at the releasing counter, so I go inside the office to find an NBI employee. When someone finally attends to me, lo and behold: "Miss, quality control po. Kailangan niyo pumuntang main office sa Carriedo, iinterviewhin kayo dun."

"E wala naman po akong kaso a. Dahil lang sa DOST scholarship yan, may letter naman ako from DOST dito na pwede akong kumuha ng clearance."

"Wala pong nakalagay sa computer namin kung ano ung kaso e. Basta nakalagay lang, may hit. Sa Carriedo na po aayusin yan. Wala kaming authority dito sa Pasig mag-clear ng pangalan."

What?!? They ask me to wait for three days for record checking, only to tell me that they don't know what my case is?!? So what what the hell was the three-day record check for?

But again, they refuse to budge, so I have no choice but to go to Carriedo.

Dec 29. 2pm. After getting lost and stuck in heavy traffic, I finally arrive in Carriedo. My friend was right when he told me, "Mamamatay ka dun." The place was sensory overload -- stalls selling all sorts of things cramped the street, shouts of vendors, paputoks, and jeepneys filled the air, and both sweet and putrid aromas assailed your nostrils. All these were topped by the maddening crowd pushing you in every direction. I remember thinking, Oh my golly gosh. I think I really am going to die here.

The NBI Clearance Center was big enough to accomodate a large number of people, but was extremely understaffed. Only two of the ten or so counters at each processing step was open. We go up and down and up and down and up and down the office looking for the people who needed to work on my clearance. Almost every step of the way, I get told "Ay, bakit ganito to? Bumalik ka ulit dun, kailangan mo pa ng <insert name of requirement here>." Yes, today, I was the lucky person who would become NBI's ping-pong ball.

After more ping-pong trips, we end up at the Quality Control section where they conduct interviews for people with so-called "cases." Fortunately, my tito knew an interviewer who assisted us. They found my record (which clearly stated that the only "criminal" record I had was my DOST requirement to serve in the country). He took one look at the letter DOST provided, and approved my clearance for release.

At looooong last! I finally had an NBI clearance. So off I went to the LRT... then to the MRT... then to my office in Ortigas so that I could finally fax all my requirements to the immigration consultants for my business trip. That was when I realized something.

For a moment, my blood was boiling so hard my eyes couldn't focus. NBI's encoder had made not one, not two, not three... but four typos out of the five fields she had to type on my clearance. She not only mispelled my name, she also wrote an incorrect address and place of birth... and to top all the stupidity off: she writes February instead of May as my date of birth.

Freaking shit.

I never thought it was possible for a government agency to be more inefficient than they already are. How infuriatingly stupid can they get? Ang layo naman ng February sa May?!?!? Their section is called Quality Control, for god's sake. Dammit. Now I have to go back to Carriedo to have this fixed. I'm so pissed I'm close to murdering someone.

Our country is going to hell.

off the BEEten track

On the way home from Tagaytay, there is small dirt road that branches off from the Aguinaldo Highway and leads to the Ilog Maria Honeybee Farm.  I had heard of the bee farm countless times, so I decided to see for myself what the fuss was all about.

It was almost closing time when I got there, so I went straight to the store to check out their wares.  (The best part of any trip, after all, is what you get to take home!)  The store sold an array of items: from food products such as honey and coffee grounds; to a variety of personal care items such as handmade soaps, lotions, and lip balms; and even decorative items like beeswax candles.  I decided to try a bottle of honey (PhP200 for 500ml) and a few of the handmade soaps (ranges from PhP30-70).

My verdict?  The honey was delicious -- I was never a fan of honey, but this one was seriously good enough to eat alone.   As for the soaps -- they smelled good enough to eat!  I have to resist the urge to bite into my spearmint and oatmeal soap bar every time I take a bath. Hehe. Quality wise, they're mild enough for sensitive skin (I have sensitive skin so if I use harsh soap I end up looking like a beehive), but still soap-y enough to get all the grease and grime and stinky smells off.

The prices are a bit more expensive than other local stores, especially since you have to go out of your way to get to it. (The farm is 800 meters away from the main road, and is only accessible through a narrow dirt road with talahib growing wildly on all sides.) But then again, Burt's Bees retails its products for so much more, so these are a steal.  I'm definitely going back for more if ever I'm in the area again.

intramuros: the walled city

For someone who goes to even the lamest tourist spots when abroad, I have never really explored Intramuros. So, when my Toronto colleagues visited us, I finally got the perfect opportunity to do so.

We took a walking tour called If These Walls Could Talk, which I had discovered while blog-hopping. Carlos Celdran, our tour guide, was quite a sight. He took us around the city within walls like the Pied Piper of Intramuros, clad in a barong and playing songs reminiscent of the historic period on a small radio. A messenger bag filled with pictures and whatnots hung on one shoulder, with a speaker wrapped around his waist and a microphone taped to his face. But even more interesting were the stories he recounted and the animated way with which he told them.

The tour started at Fort Santiago, where we heard about a prehistoric Manila and how Spain conquered it; learned about how Jose Rizal was the 'it' guy, even if he was actually just as tall (or rather, as short) as President GMA, and saw the spinal column of Jose Rizal with a bullet lodged in it. Next was a calesa ride around Intramuros, which took us to the 400-year old San Agustin church and convent. Here we looked for turtles in a pond, visited tombs, and learned more about the Spanish, Japanese, & American colonization. Lest you be discouraged about having to hear about Philippine history again, I tell you -- this was not boring at all. Carlos was such an excellent storyteller that a group of priests doing the rounds in Father Blanco's Garden decided to stop and watch him, cheefully waving to us as Carlos announced "The Church was our enemy!" Haha. History lesson done, we then traipsed over to Casa Manila to take a peek into the extravagant lifestyles of the Filipino elite of the era. They threw their poop out on the streets. Nice.

Owen, me, Rose, and Michael at Father Blanco's Garden.


Binondo Church. This wasn't part of the tour, but Sweetie Pao, being a
Chinese mestizo (bwahaha!), kindly offered to tour us around Chinatown.


Busy, busy Chinatown. That's Sweetie Pao, Owen, and Michael
in the middle of the street.