Visiting the U.S. of A.

One of the highlights of the year, is of course our recent visit to the great U.S. of A. Now unlike Paris, visiting America was never a plan, not even a dream. I guess it is because all the Hollywood films has kind of made you know about the US than you could possibly want, which kind of sucked out the mystery and excitement for me. I do admit that at one point in my childhood I dreamt of writing for the New Yorker and become famous as the author of books about things you don’t usually think about but is really important … but Malcolm Gladwell beat me to it.

Plus, I think, that as a friend of mine pointed out, we belong to a generation who no longer has that longing to live and strive for the “American Dream” that most of our parents’ and grandparents’ had wanted. If you are Pinoy you probably have an idea of this obsession we have to go to the “States”, if you are not, we Filipinos do. In fact coming to America is such a big deal, there is a cable tv especially catered to help some Filipinos and their quest for the elusive green card.

But like I said, now a days, that isn’t the case. In fact I know lots of friends who could go there to work, or an opportunity to study, but still opt to stay back home. Reasons are varied but if you ask me I think it is also because with the internet and information it provides, options to other places in the world can also be easily accessed and in turn weighed in as an alternative choice.

Anyway, even JG wasn’t so keen to going there either, but since most Filipinos have relatives in the US, his mom wanted to go and see some of them whom she hasn’t seen in a long time she asked if we wanted to go.  The clincher however was the opportunity to go to an American Comic Con (which my Comic fan boy of a husband would of course want to go to). As for me, they were going anyway, so might as well… plus I too have relatives there in my side of the family so it was a great opportunity to go see them as well.

Aside from sight-seeing, I had three goals in mind:

• Sample as many sort of Burgers as I could (since the US is famous for it).
• Buy a pair of original Levis for my Mom who has always wanted one.
• And see Van Gogh’s Starry Night painting.

I also wanted to have breakfast at Tiffany’s, but JG did not even want to entertain the idea eating there so early in the cold and be embarrassed by his wife who would happily dress up a la Audrey Hepburn.

To find out which of them I was able to get to do and which I was left for naught, you are going to have to wait for the follow-up posts. For now I leave you with these great bronze statues which we found all around a subway station in Brooklyn. The pieces are by Tom Otterness which he entitled Life Underground.

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One Year Later…

I guess I am really not one for keeping up at something, although I must first say that I have not completely abandoned my blog. I made this actually so that I can have something keep my writer clicking but for some weird reason, call it life, I feel as if I am slowly losing touch of that part of me. I suppose that is really how it is, as you get older, what you imagined yourself to be earlier in life, changes… Maybe one day, I will find some useful venue for my writing skill, to put it simply, I guess I am starting to accept that I might not be the next Jane Austen, not even the lady who wrote Twilight. But I digress…

What this blog is also about, is my life and times, as a diplowife. And at present, and as was promised last year, how things are with me here in current post, Oman. One thing is for sure, time flies so fast here, lo and behold, JG and I have now been here a little over a year. It seems only yesterday that I wrote about flying here, and the whole experience with Libya was as if a dream.

So how is it so far? Better than Libya of course, days are quicker and more productive, more friends are made, and thanks to having the car and the ability to drive getting to places have been a joy. In fairness to Libya of course, I kind of miss the warm and happy laid back people there. Often times I think about Bob, the big guy who mans the small retail shop in front of our house, our landlord and his little kids, Omar and Mr. Mohamed who drove for us when we needed a ride, and Marwa who invited me to her home and sample her Mom’s cooking… Here in Oman, I don’t get to interact as much with the locals, I rarely get to see them, the very few that I have met, I have spoken to very briefly. I suppose it is because they have their own thing, have their own routine amongst themselves. I remember writing in my first post here about being invited to a party at someone’s house and not meeting the owners, well one year later, I have yet to meet them. I will be here for another three years though, so I look forward to making Omani friends within that time.

As far as getting to places, I have visited fairly many of the main attractions here, the Nizwa fort, Salalah at the far southern part, Sohar, places like that, although there are still so much you can do here that I look forward to doing while I am here. Turtle watching of course, and perhaps given the chance climb their rocky mountains and get to swim in the wadis hidden in and around them.

As far as being the diplomat’s wife is concerned, have I mentioned I belong to a Ladies group? Yes me, the one who was least likely to join tea parties and socialize, now attends meetings, invite people over, and at present preparing for, wait for it… a fashion show… But kidding aside, I learned that being involved with such things is not how I thought it would be, it is not at all just about talking shop, clothes, and being pretty and presentable. It is also about meeting very interesting women who want to make the most of their time aside from supporting their husband’s chosen career in the Foreign Service. What is great about being involved in such things, is just like travelling I get to learn about different cultures and norms through the women I meet.

And that is how it is so far here in my side of the world, three more years, and hopefully it stays as calm and as slightly hectic as it is…

I am not going to promise to write more soon as I have learned and you may have notices I do not follow through anyway, so in case it takes another few weeks or months, I leave you with this picture of the remnants of an old-old town in the mountains in our road trip to Nizwa. 

The Projectionist and Sentro Rizal’s First Project

Remember the library I wrote about last time, the one the embassy inaugurated during our National day? Couple of weeks ago, Sentro Rizal launched its first project, with a timely commemoration to the guy the whole place was specially named after. To celebrate our National Hero’s 151^st birthday, we hosted a film showing for high school student, and an essay writing contest about him.

I was a mere projectionist during the film showing but it was really great to see the Centre starting to serve its purpose for one of the main group of beneficiaries we thought of when this project was put to plan. We showed a sort of Hollywood-ish version of the life of Dr. Jose Rizal, which was filmed about 14 years ago, starring one of our country’s Action stars Cesar Montano. It’s funny because when that film was produced to celebrate our nation’s centennial independence in 1998, I was in high school too, and I remember thinking how it was high-time money was spent on making a film on one of the most prominent men in our history. Major production companies after all had no qualms making films on every cliché in life there is in the Philippines, ranging from poverty to puppy love. But I digress… It was as if, even as a mere projectionist, I was passing on something to the next generation of Filipinos.  Of course it was also great that the kids had a chance to visit the library, it may not have that many of books but it was nice because it did not take long for the youngsters to pick up some of them and started browsing.

We also organized an Essay writing contest, which also turned out great as we were floored at the number of participants. It was also interesting to read the contestant’s answers, papers that varied from the most adorably innocent, to the most serious and surprisingly deep responses considering these are individuals no older than 16 years old.  Anyway we initially planned on crowning one winner per level, but some of the answers were so interesting, the judges (JG included), agreed to give tokens to the runner-ups as well.

The winner of the elementary level garnered a unanimous vote as the winner, and personally impressed me as well. For the theme of the essay, they were asked to give what they would like to learn from Rizal, and while most of the other kids talked about the usual stuff like being good and patriotic; in her essay, the young winner of 12 (I think) talked about wanting to learn of courage and perhaps naively, perhaps knowingly, wondered how Rizal might have felt while anticipating the bullets that were sentenced to shoot him dead. It kind of gave me a whole new perspective to the phrase “from the mouth of the babes”.

What really made me feel good about these past activities is that some of the students that visited really appreciated the library as well as saw the potential of what it can do for them. I am more hopeful though that they really do come and more importantly pick-up a book and read. I for one, who considering grew-up back home, and yet did not really did my best to learn my heritage, and despite my often tongue-in-cheek complaints about the Philippines and its everyday rustics, must say that this is something I regret. Now that I am an adult, I better understand what a crucial tool understanding your roots is all about. As a Diplowife, meeting people from all parts of the world, I often find myself envious at how many of them find joy in talking about their culture, whether it be food, or their history how much of a big part it is in who they have become.

And thinking about these kids, I fear that growing up in a foreign country makes it even more challenging in shaping themselves. This is why I am very hopeful that the library will at least help them in this burden, and at the most guide them to be better Filipinos, just as Rizal was, that is of course minus the firing squad ending.

*photos courtesy of the Philippine Embassy, Muscat, Oman.

On the 114th Celebration of Philippine Independence in Muscat

So this week was the mother of all “busy”, simply because last week was June 12, which is the celebration of the Philippine’s Independence. This year marks our country’s 114^th celebration from the Spanish Colony.  A bit of history for you, technically, our supposed Independence from Spain in 1896, meant the beginning of being under the Americans, to which we were technically really freed as an Independent Republic on July 4, 1946. For about 16 years, we celebrated the same Independence Day with the US, until our former President Diosdado Macapagal issued Presidential Proclamation No. 28 (I think) and officially changed it to June 12.

Anyway, my last post on Independence Day celebration was two years ago, when we were still in Libya, before last year’s civil war there broke out, to which basically is the reason why there was no posts on that one .

This year is a bit memorable for me because as part of the celebration, the Embassy inaugurated a small Filipiniana library and cultural center/hall that I proudly help build. It was project initiated by the Ambassador and his wife, when they found out that there were not many libraries here in Muscat. It is nothing big, but thanks to collaborative efforts from the Embassy staff, and a Ladies Group headed by the Madam, we transformed a small conference room at the Embassy into Sentro Rizal (named after our National Hero Dr. Jose Rizal, and was fashioned after the original Sentro Rizal which is in Manila of our National Commission on Culture and the Arts). There are several other Sentro Rizal’s in Europe I think, but the new one here in Muscat is the first in the Middle-East.

… and the shiny new bust of our National Hero Dr. Jose Rizal to which the center is named after. His podium has a plaque engraved with his famous quote “Ang hindi marunong lumingon sa pinangalingan ay hindi makakarating sa paroroonan.” (I suggest you ask a Filipino friend or look up its translation since it is a bit hard to explain.)

I think this is the first time I have been so proud about being part of something in a long time because I honestly am not the most active when it comes projects and what-nots. Sure I can say, I had to do it since this was JG’s Boss’s Wife’s project, and I could’ve easily just bowed out, but reading and encouraging others to read is something I really like doing, especially thinking about the Filipino kids growing up here, who do not have access to book s about home. Okay sure, we have the internet, and there is of course a Philippine School here, not to mention the ever popular “Filipino Channel”; but we have hopes that Sentro Rizal can be a place where things like poetry reading, film showing, and exhibits can be held so that Filipinos and even the locals can come and learn more about our heritage and culture.

The shiny new sign on the entrance of the new cultural center and library…

So back to our Independence Day Celebration, aside from the inauguration is the annual flag raising and singing of the National Anthem, which is of course an outdoor thing. Nothing to it, except Muscat in June is the start of the summer season. Even by May, temperatures have begun to rise, and towards the end of that Month, it has already gotten to as high as 41 degrees Celsius.  So to avoid anyone fainting from heat stroke, the Flag Raising part was scheduled at 6:30 in the morning, and even that early, it still felt like being cooked in an oven. Pictures would show how everyone’s face were crunched up as if we were all so unhappy about what was really a festive occasion.

And then of course, there is also the part where the community celebrates, to which a less formal setting was organized. This year, a Filipino celebrity was flown all the way from Manila to headline the program. They brought in a singer, Bugoy Drillon who has a “Rags to Riches” story; if you are not familiar with him, he used to be a Maintenance guy from the province and joined a popular singing contest back home which jump started his career. Anyway, I was glad he was the one who performed because I wasn’t so keen on this part to be honest; I am not very fond of our celebrities back home.

This year’s celebrity guest Bugoy Drillon, he was nice, and a really good singer too, everybody went crazy for him.

In MY opinion, a lot of them are just a bunch of talentless meztisos and meztisas. But Bugoy was this fun, down to earth, and really talented singer who was just really happy to be here. I met him during lunch at the embassy, and he surprised me when he shook my hand and bowed, as if I was royalty of some sort. Sure he wasn’t the best looking of celebrities, but everybody loved him and went crazy for him just the same if only for his singing abilities and his enthusiasm to do so.

And that is my official entry on this year’s Independence Day celebration, I am glad I got through all those preparations, must have been one of the busiest few days I have had. So busy I neglected some other personal stuff like school (did I mention I was studying?), and of course my perpetual chores in the house.  So I haven’t really had time to wind down, as I am now trying my best to catch up on the stuff I had to neglect in the name of Reading, and commemorating our country’s National Day.  Wonder what will happen next year though?

On Facebook and Responsible Info Sharing

Living abroad, I will proudly say that Facebook is a crucial part of my life. If by some weird way, it suddenly shuts down, I will probably feel sad and panic for about a moment. It helps me stay in touch, both with people I hold dear and in matters that affect the world. I think it’s brilliant that I am able to get a glimpse of what someone I know is going through, whether it be a big event like a wedding, or how proud they are of what they are eating at that very moment. It keeps me connected and for that I will always be thankful to Zuckerberg for creating this platform.

But I agree with a friend who once posted, that just because such a place exists doesn’t mean we can post anything.  

Like everything else, we should always consider that Facebook works in a way that almost anyone, can view, intentionally or not, what you are saying or putting out there. That is the main phrase for me, “putting it out there”. If you do not get that, think about this, it’s the same as considering what clothes we hang outside to dry. I do not know about you, but I do not put out my underwear for all the world to see. Now one might say that their underwear is nice, it’s expensive, it’s harmless, it’s clean, but it’s still your underwear. Operative word “under” as in hidden, as in private.

That example best fits some of the married lady folks I am “friends with” in Facebook, who posts their marital struggles on-line. Lambasting their spouse’s mistresses or suspected mistresses, or those who are not actually but seem to show extra-closeness with their respective partners. Just because Facebook is a way to get your message across to that person, doesn’t mean it is okay to use it. If you care less what others think, then consider your family, your husband’s parents, brothers, and sisters. Consider your children if you have one or several. How would you feel if your parent’s post about things like that online? Ask yourself whether that is good example to set for them. Facebook is not somewhere you can slug it out with somebody, any public area isn’t for that matter, for that you need a boxing ring or something. Problems in life are best kept in the confidence of people we trust. If you are like me who highly relies on FB to talk to friends, I think that is what the Message button is for. PM as in Private Message.

Also business transactions is not for Facebook, with this I mean that although someone posts about a job opening you really cannot enter your application simply by commenting on it. I cannot even believe that I have to write about this, any adult who has applied for a job should know the proper means in applying for one. One should also not use Facebook to air out their complaints about their boss or employer nor do I think it is right to talk about your colleague on how noisy he or she chews their lunch at work. That is simply unprofessional, no matter how good you try to make it anonymous, careful not to mention any names.

Opinions, we are all entitled to them, but in Facebook, as well as in life, as long as nobody really asks, nobody really cares. I am guilty of this often times, anyone who knows me well, knows how talkative I am, which is why believe me when I say that it is really embarrassing when someone corrects you for something you say that isn’t true or accurate. Recent events in the political arena back home directs me to point this out, everybody had something to say, but most obviously did not truly understand what was happening, or what that whole process was for and why.

I guess we often say things out loud that are brought about by an emotional reaction? Which is okay, we are human after all. But in Facebook, we have time to think about what we write, ten seconds to type something should be enough to make us pause and ponder about the repercussions of what we are about, once again,  “to put out there”.   

Finally, using Facebook to create awareness is also something we should consider carefully. I think it’s a great idea share some useful information like that girl who was missing. For me things like that you share because logically there is a chance someone has seen her, and thru Facebook someone lost in the big world was actually found. Meaning a problem was solved, information was passed on, as it was needed to be. But I hardly think that ruining someone’s appetite by posting a child’s severed body’s photo on Facebook, will make that poor child’s situation any better. You, telling me to share such pictures, if I feel for that baby or little boy/girl will not make things better for them. Unlike in newspapers where pictures can be blurred or covered, unlike on the news where announcers can forewarn the viewers of disturbing footages; in Facebook, I see the picture first before I understand why it’s there. You know what comes to mind when I come across something like that? I think about the cursed video in the Ring movie. So as to be sparred by Sadako, you have to have someone else see the video, you get to live but they in turn are cursed, which is the beginning of a vicious cycle. In the case of the such posts on FB; in order for you to be saved from the guilt that you really can’t do anything, you pass it on to someone else so that may take the burden from you.

And don’t even get me started on those who posts and shares jokes about impending natural disasters, epidemics, and threats of war and violence… also those who spread rumors before they actually check the source of such posts, whether it was an accurate and credible information.    

A Filipino network, has launched a campaign about responsible social media posting; their slogan simply points out, that you “think before you click”; which basically sums up everything. Social Network Sites like Facebook, has changed the way we live, information is a vital part of our life today, whether it be personal or for everybody. But that doesn’t mean all of it should be posted without proper consideration and thought, or even just a bit of responsible sharing.

  

Of Art and the ones in Spain

I know there is no point in explaining, but my only excuse for once again being away for so long is that I got side-tracked; with what, is still another post.

So anyway, I promised one last thing to share about my trip to Spain. Aside from the tours, going to Toledo, and El Escorial, JG also took me to the museums around Madrid. One of my favorite things about Europe is their love for art, old and new. I am no expert, but I particularly like to see paintings made by the famous once, by that I mean the artists you hear about and are used as reference for years. Ever since I saw the original Mona Lisa in the Louvre, I realized that just a few years before that I never even thought I would find myself in Paris, much less see a famous artistic icon. So I decided that as long as I could, I would visit as many museums as I can, and continue to enjoy the privilege of being able to see such historical treasures.

Their paintings give us a glimpse of the world during their time through the eyes of these artists. I especially like the portraits because it makes me wonder about the person in the painting, like this painting of Mrs. Joshua Henshaw II, Catherine Hill, by John Singleton Copley at the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum. I liked it because it seemed to me like a real picture of a lady seemed to be my age but who lived centuries before I did. I wondered about who she was and what she was like, when I look at paintings like that I think about whether see would be someone who I could’ve friends with, judging from how she smiled or her choice of the color of her dress. I tried to find information about who she was but I just keep going back to this painting.

Portrait of Mrs. Joshua Henshaw II, Catherine Hill by John Singleton Copley, 1172 from the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Spain.
http://www.museothyssen.org/en/thyssen/ficha_obra/451

I have also found that I like Van Gogh’s work in particular; in Madrid I got o see two or his original works, Watermill at Genep and Evening Landscape.

Evening Landscape by Vincent Van Gogh, 1885 also from the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza.
http://www.museothyssen.org/img/obras_descarga/1966.8.jpg

I like him because most of his works when you stand very close to it, you just see these simple deep strokes of lines of all sorts of colors, but as you step back you see that it all connects into this beautiful picture. Also as it was pointed out in an episode of Dr. Who, when Vincent was alive he was tormented by his psychological ailments, and yet he was able to produce such beauty. As it was said in the episode it would’ve been easier for him to draw the pain and anguish in his mind, instead he fought that and gave us the opposite. I think that is what makes his works so interesting, and I find that it kind of says something to me – finding the beauty amidst the darkness, and all that…

There was no Van Gogh’s at the Museo Del Prado, the national art museum of Spain, but there were a lot of the more classical forms, as I would call them. The likes made by Goya one of the most celebrated Spanish painters, whom JG liked. I decided that I was not such a big fan of such paintings, but again is impressed that such an artifact is kept to be seen and enjoyed by the coming generations.

La Maja Desnuda by Francisco Goya also known as The Nude Maja, is one of Goya's most famous found at the Museo del Prado. I think this painting comes in two versions.

In search for more Van Gogh, JG and I braved the cold and rain, to get to the Reina Sofia museum, where most of what are called Avant-garde artworks in Madrid can be found. And sure enough nothing can be as Avant-garde as paintings by Picasso. Now these for me were a bit more too extreme, like I said I like how painters are able to capture a picture with their talent but I seem to be not born with the eye to see the message behind the abstract. However even if you are like me who do not have the taste for Picasso, I still recommend that you stop by and see his Guernica. This huge Picasso painting is a mural that stands about 11 feet tall and about 26 feet wide, it only shows gray, black, and white and was Picasso’s entry to an exhibition in France in the 1930’s. The mural is about a bombing in a town in Guernica, to which Picasso wanted to draw some awareness to. Although I have to admit that the message or what the painting symbolizes eludes me, it was really an experience for me to walk in that room and see that. For me, a Picasso is something I can only see in the movies or hear about, that his works can only be found in the living rooms of rich people, and yet there I was standing in front of his biggest works.

Picasso's Guernica at the Reina Sofia Museum
http://theaegon.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/guernica-dans-un-musee.jpg

Again I am no expert, I have no opinion about strokes, or color, or lighting, or whatever jargons there is in appreciating fine art. I like it because I find it fascinating how a person is able to capture something, whether it be from a scene, a bowl of fruit, or an abstract image from their imagination, and be able to paint it or sculpt it, immortalize it. Nowadays it is easy to create something as we are living in the digital age. Picturesque moments can be caught with a click of a button and even be manipulated in all forms. That’s great too, how math and science, binary codes or whatever have given us that. But a lot can be said about the likes of Da Vinci, Monet, Picasso for being able to do that with nothing but what is today are rudimentary tools like brushes, paint, and a piece of paper/canvass. They did not have such things as DSLR or special apps that instantly make art; all they had was their eye to see beauty and the talent to draw it.

Anyway that was Spain for me its art, history, paella and all.

The Great Spain Rundown

I have to say that I am not going to jump up and down of excitement telling you about Madrid, it was a great city, as well as the other parts of Spain that we went to. I really find it wonderful how countries like Spain are able to maintain a lot of their historical architectures and artifacts, mainly one of the reasons why people flock to see them. And that is basically what JG and I did, just passed by to admire the history that the Spaniards have to show for, as well as of course like all tourists experience as much as much Spanish culture as we can.

Unlike Paris or Rome, I really did not have much a goal going there, just again to see the sights, we did a tour of the city that included, seeing the oldest restaurant in the world,

Restaurant Sobrino de Botin the oldest place to eat in, as per approved by the Guinness World Record itself.

The palace of course,

And the home of Miguel Cervantes where he wrote the infamous Don Quixote de la Mancha.

Aside from eating Paella, we also came across what they say is one of the many must eats there, which are called Churos, which is basically Spain’s version of a donut, because it is basically made from the same ingredients only it is not shaped into a holed bread, but often as a long stick, edged like a star. Sometimes it’s knotted, sometimes not. Anyway, you enjoy it by dipping it in a thick hot cup of chocolate, you can get it everywhere there, but as our guide pointed out you absolutely have to try the ones from SanGines Chocolateria which is best one there because it is, if I heard right, is the oldest running one.

The best Chocolate and Churros of San Gines. I tried another restaurant that served the same thing, but it wasn't quite the same as this one. Also in SanGines they have a better working system of service compared to the others with their disdainfully snobbish attendants, slow output, and very small batch of churros.

I find this fascinating, because it meant I got to eat a treat that some living in 1894 would’ve enjoyed it; the same kind of recipe, in the same kind of place, because it looked as if nothing much was changed in the restaurant.

We also went to Toledo, where a UNESCO heritage site of an old city stands on top of a hill. It was like walking into a medieval town, complete with walls and towers, entrances with stone-edged emblems, churches and castles. If you are ever there, and you are not the most athletically built, I suggest you do what JG and I did. From the train or bus station, walk a few yards at the bottom of the hill and take the bus up the hill. We went down at the main square but I think the bus can go higher up, when you get there just walk your way down. This way you can experience the city without exhausting yourself. It might take a while for the bus to arrive, you might wait longer than the actual ride into the old city but it’s definitely one way of approaching it without breaking stressing yourself.

Here are some of the view from up the old city on the hill.

Back in Madrid we also stopped by Mercado de San Miguel, a market place which what looked to me a very oriental roofing design and is enclosed in glass. I had thought that would be the best place for me to get souvenirs but as it turns out, inside were mainly shops that sell gourmet meat, cheese, and tapas which you can enjoy with a good glass of wine. It was to me more like the upside version of a hawkers area where foodies enjoy the finer kinds of food street style.

Outside Mercado de San Miguel.

Our last main stop was to El Escorial, a 30 minute bus ride away from Madrid where one can find the San Lorenzo Monastery. Although it is called a monastery, it’s a royal site that is a museum, royal palace, and school all rolled into one. JG and I made a mistake of going through the exit via the church going the opposite direction of everybody else. We did not want to stay long since we basically got in without paying, so we ended up just peeking in and leaving right away. But I did get to see one of the highlights of the trip for me was the basement where you find these tombs where some of the royalties from way back were buried. I did not think these were the kings of the most important figures but mostly their aunts and cousins, you know the ones who were blue blood but not heir to the throne, but still it was really very fascinating and eerie at the same time. Etched with their names are their very own emblems.

The Basilica inside the Monastery of San Lorenzo in El Escorial.

So that was it, the trip to Spain. I still have one last thing to share about Madrid which I will post soon.

Of Absences and the Difference between Easter in Spain and in the Philippines

For the record, I would like to say that it makes me sad that I do not have the discipline to update my blog regularly. It is not because I do not have anything to write about, on the contrary, since my last entry, and even previous to that, I have experienced a lot of things here, worthy of a post (to which includes: participating in an Asean festival during the annual Muscat Cultural Festival; watching a Japanese traditional drummers at the newly built Royal Opera House here in Muscat, and maiming my neighbor’s car). Thinking about all of them truly excited me again, as I hope it did your curiosity, so I promise to do my best to tell you about it soon.

For now let me write about my latest travel exploit to the home of Don Quixote of Cervantes – Spain! Because of the long Easter holiday, JG and I have been planning a short get-away to escape lying around in the house for five days as well as the beginning of the sweltering heat here in our little part of the Middle East. We initially planned on going to Amsterdam in the Netherlands, to see the Van Gogh museum, but due to the difficulties of finding lodging we could afford, we set our sights next to Katmandu in Nepal to see their old temples, but alas we also could not find accommodations that fit our bill. So as a last minute spur of the moment decision, JG calls in the middle of the afternoon to ask me about Spain. And at that point I was ready to go anywhere.

I have never really thought much about Spain, which is funny considering I come from a country colonized by the Spaniards for 300 years. But truth be told, if colonial influence is to be considered, I am privy to the American culture. Except for my Spanish name and a few Spanish words we still use in the Philippines, I did not get much from Espanya, not even their religion.

Nevertheless, I thought it interesting to see. Two days before, I realized that the point of our trip was to escape Easter holiday nothingness, only to visit one of the most Catholic countries there is. For the non-Filipino readers, you see in the Philippines, during the “holy week” as we call it, starting Maundy Thursday to Black Saturday, most shops and businesses are closed, and majority of Filipinos are “supposedly” spending the time to refrain from our worldly habits and reflect on the death of Jesus Christ on the cross. In the Philippines, to further explain, there is a belief, that at the strike of 3 “o” clock in the afternoon on Good Friday, Jesus Christ dies, which means an opportunity for evil forces to be able to their bid since Jesus is, to put it mildly, in dispose. As a child I was warned not to play during those times every year, told that my angels will not have their powers to protect me from harm. To which I, although was not raised in a Catholic environment, believed faithfully, especially after a very painful biking incident one time when I was six refusing then to heed my relative’s cautions. As Christmas is celebrated with a festive mood and of joyful celebration, Easter has always been for me a week feeling of gloom as if mourning someone dear who painfully dies every year.

That is until I got older… Once you are old enough, especially nowadays back home, the holy week is one of the many holidays in a year when adults find the time to get away. Most families would take road trips and visit churches (bisita [visit] Iglesia as we call it), some whose beliefs runs deeper than going to church having yourself nailed to the cross is also a famous event in some parts of the Philippines.

Some Filipinos take the Easter Penitensya really seriously. Photo from The Daily Inquirer http://www.thedailyinquirer.net/good-friday-filipinos-nailed-to-the-cross-in-san-fernando/0411903

But most people (especially the yuppies) would retreat to the beaches or take trips elsewhere, where the shops are open, and quite honestly churches and praying would be the last thing on your mind.

So now you might probably better understand my concern of going to Spain during Easter, I had thought that being the county where the Philippines’ inherited its Catholic beliefs, visiting Spain would be visiting a place in deep reflection and/or penitence.

Boy was I wrong, it seems to my surprise that the idea of Easter there is not the same as I have been brought up to back home. There are yes, the usual parades of Saints, the reenactment of the Passion of the Christ, and special festivals, but none of the feeling of gloom, or at least the guilt that you are enjoying a nice piece of steak and wine, when you ought to be fasting, and thinking about repenting from your sins. I did not dare ask the locals, but a fellow Filipino we met explained that there, it is always work, work, work; and apparently even faith is not an excuse not to.

It also seems that I am the only one who thinks this way judging from the massive number of people there. Even though there was a bit of rain and the spring weather still brings a bitter cold breeze especially at night, hordes of people, both locals and tourists roam its streets down to the center Sol, fill its restaurants surrounding Plaza de Mayor, with dinner starting as late as 10:30, and 24-hour Chocolate and Churos nooks to cap the night, or should I say the wee hours of the morning next day.

The busiest street in Spain, towards the Center of Madrid in Sol.

But it wasn’t so bad at all! I got to see two original Van Gogh’s and a lot of Goya and Picasso. The Paella was of course Superb. Also got a chance to visit tombs where Spanish blue bloods are laid to rest. It was really nice to see a country which has a very rich history and love for art of all sorts. I tell you more about it on part two… for now I leave you with this picture of oldest restaurant in the world.

The window display of Sobrino de Botin, established in 1725, showing off its Guinness World Record recognition as the oldest restaurant in the world. We did not eat there, by the way, but apparently upstairs is where Hemingway finished The Sun Also Rises.

On Cooking while Bleeding

While preparing brunch yesterday, I gave myself a nasty cut with the kitchen knife. It was a small one on the left middle finger, but it was a bit deep. Friday mornings in Arab country is the worst time to get injured, because all stores are closed for prayer until the afternoons (especially when you did not have the good sense to stock up on some gauze and antiseptics). So whilst I was bleeding on a small towel waiting for the pharmacy to open I thought about my cooking.

A very good friend of mine recently got married, and has also launched a new blog wherein she writes about her baking and cooking exploits. In the blog she explains the she was introduced to the basics of baking at a young age, with her classy mom who makes their birthday cakes herself as suppose to buying them from the famous patisseries, thus passing on the necessary skills in the culinary arts to my friend, enough to have the credibility to write about it. And in that aspect I envy her, and have no doubts she will be posting great foodie posts, not to mention how happy I am for her Mr. who will be served delicious meals.

I on the other hand, was also domestically trained by Mom, but in a very different way. My mom was busy with work, so instructions always came in a form of a note which I will find in the morning long after my mom left for work or when I get home from school. On the note would be a detailed enumeration of how to cook the night’s dinner, a list of what I needed to buy, and of course always signed “luv u mommy”. Attached to the note is the exact amount of money I needed to get everything I needed.

Another important detail I would like to mention is that back then money was always tight, so the choice viand would normally be the kind that would cost, at least 50 pesos. That’s about a dollar or ½ Omani Rial.  So you can imagine how un-wide my choices were. The simple point I am making here, is compared to most wives – am not a good cook.  As a teenager I did not find this a problem because I had dreams of becoming an independent career woman who would be eating a big sandwich standing by my kitchen sink, so cooking would not be needed, plus I have grown to love the meals my Mom had taught me to cook, no matter how experimental or rudimentary they are. But funny how life turns out, who knew I was going to find myself a homemaker?

At present, the issue of “What’s for dinner?” is usually the source of irritation and occasional quarrels in my otherwise peaceful married life. My limited knowledge of kitchen skill, is not very appealing to taste of JG, whom, since we are the subject of how kids were raised was fed by a very doting mother who can cook a million kinds of meals as well. It also does not help, that JG likes absurdist conversations wherein most of the time nothing is settled.

JG: What’s to eat?

Me: What would you like to eat?

JG: Kahit ano (Whatever)

Me: Would you like ______?

JG: Not really, no.

Me: What about________?

JG: (thinks) No. Is there______?

Me: We do not have the ingredients for that….

This goes on and on ‘til we settle for hotdogs or take out.

Nevertheless, as the proverb says “let the wise increase their learning”. Having no job and some free time, I thought it best to sharpen my dull cooking abilities. Especially when I was in Libya, where time was all I got. There I learned to make pies, and many other meals, like Chicken ala King and Charlie Chan pasta. A big help is that I am lucky to be living in this day and age when I can access recipes at a click of a button. JG would request something, a google search later, and it is done, basically all those years of reading my Mother’s notes paid off because I seem to have this honed ability of following instructions. Of course JG liking it is hit-and-miss, but as long as it’s edible and does not look like burnt charcoal, I’d call it a great effort.

Hit-and-Miss. This chocolate cake I baked out of boredom turned out fine, except the next day it was so solid hard I could've used it as a weapon.

 And yet still, I am kind of starting to believe that cooking is a skill that you have to love, like my Kitchen Monday friend, I can only surmise that her culinary skills is a combination of all her years of learning from her mom, plus as she says the joy and relaxation she feels when she is whipping something up. I on the other hand was not blessed by both, but am of course willing to take in strife and continue to learn. JG and I do have to eat, and living on take-out is not a very practical way to life both physically and financially.  Anyway in four years I believe I have made a considerable amount of progress, that is unless I don’t cut my hand off first… 

Of Ads and the Exhibit about Japan

Yesterday JG asked me what nationality I would’ve preferred to be if I could choose. I said I think I want to be Japanese. Mostly because I think they are very interesting people, I love how they are still very in tune with their past and their heritage, their discipline, and I am also a big fan of their anime/manga, even their dramas and films (of course no need to mention how great their food is). Anyway I mentioned this because yesterday, we were invited to attend an opening of a photography exhibit by the Japanese Embassy. It was to commemorate 40 years of Japan and Oman’s diplomatic relations and from what I got from the Ambassador of Japan’s speech he seemed to be a fan of photography.

The great thing about the exhibit was that it wasn’t just photos but mostly ads that can be found around Japan. The Japanese are well known for promoting a lot of things about their culture mostly traditional stuff like tea ceremonies, but I always say that the best way to learn about a country’s culture is to watch their TV shows as well look at their advertisements. Mass media says a lot about a society, especially in advertising, it gives you an idea of what it wants, and the things that can entice and influence them, and it is one of the things I try to look at whenever I travel.

For example in Libya during our stay there, the only endorser worthy of being posted on billboards, were of Qadafi’s. I remember in the subway in London big portraits of Shakespeare, Queen Victoria, etc. were posted promoting the National Portrait Gallery. What I like about the ads here in Oman is that it is mostly very family oriented, a family running at the beach having fun; an Omani in his traditional everyday Omani wear standing by his new car beaming with pride; a Lady in her Abaya talking happily with her mom on the phone. I am still very unfamiliar with the norms that are happening in an Arab home, and seeing the ads that they have here give me a glimpse of that, and at times show that they are as we are all.  In the Philippines, over a period of ten years I think, billboards as big as one can imagine are sprawling everywhere, would you believe that there is even a building in Manila covered in ads? Never mind architectural design, the ads is its main aesthetic appeal.

So last night’s exhibit was really interesting for me because it kind of felt like peeking into Japan. Like this series of ads promoting a certain train line, I like it because it does not directly advertise its main service, but shows places that the train can take you, showing different parts of Tokyo, tourists wouldn’t normally find.

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My most favorite collection was these which were basically promoting Chashakus or the Japanese tea spoon used in traditional tea ceremonies. Unfortunately I do not understand what the ad says, and had to ask a nice Japanese lady to explain it to me. If you can understand Japanese, I would greatly appreciate if you could tell me what the ads are mostly about, other than promoting the tea spoons. I like it because it is simple, and a bit artsy, something I can display in the house.

There is also a corner in the exhibit that shows photos of parts of Japan that were affected by last year’s earthquake and Tsunami.

Another Japanese Lady explained to me that this was an area in Sendai in Miyagi. If you look closer the city proper wasn't that affected but the coastal area was severely damaged by the Tsunami.

But, aside from the devastation, there were also photos of festivals and programs that the community did to help uplift their spirits after the tragic disaster that swept their country.

This is a great picture of kids celebrating a festival after last year's earthquake hit their homes.

There were also other great ads that I liked, others left me wanting like these really interesting Ajinomoto pictures…

 

So all in all it was a great exhibit for me, and would really hope other Embassies would do the same and showcase a little bit of their modern culture here in Oman.