Festival de Masskara

Kari sa Bacolod. Dala ka maskara.
¡Venga a Bacolod. Traiga una máscara!

El festival de Masskara había sido una parte de mis años más jóvenes.
Los colores, baile de la calle y, el desfile me hizo realizar que la vida es una celebración grande. Viaje conmigo en Bacolod y celebramos la vida. Celebramos Masskara.


El Festival

La fiesta representa una competición de baile de calle donde personas de cualquier nivel de vida marchan a las calles para ver a bailarinas coloradamente-enmascarados giran al ritmo contagioso del golpe musical latino en una presentación que aturde de la maestría, la alegría, coordinación y energía.

El término Masskara fue creado de dos palabras: masa, significando la multitud, y la cara, palabra español, para la cara; así el doble sentido para la "máscara" y "muchas caras". Fue acuñado por Sr. Ely Santiago, por un pintor, por el caricaturista, y por artista cultural, que dedicó la exposición en su arte trabaja las muchas caras de Negrenses agobiaron con varias crisis.

Durante este festival cada octubre, la plaza pública de la ciudad es traída vivo en una terraza de verano inmensa. Hay también concursos de Calle-Bailando de Masskara que destacan el festival entero. Festival de Masskara fue pensado como un ánimo a todo defenderse y mantener sonreír a pesar de los problemas de azúcar, y destacó esa esperanza todavía existido. Desde entonces, las máscaras sonrientes han llegado a ser el símbolo de la ciudad, así ganando su etiqueta como el "la Ciudad de la Sonrisa". Este festival anual, que ha llegado a ser uno de Filipinas mejor sitio para turistas conocido, ha estado ganando delirios de turistas locales y extranjeros. Festival de Masskara también ha sido juzgado el festival más hermoso y colorado entre los varios contingentes de otros países.


La Historia

El festival inculca entre las personas la cultura de evasión y oscurantismo, donde ellos tienen que aceptar y olvidarse sus sufrimientos causados por la explotación y la opresión de los propietarios.

En esta ciudad, las personas son favorecidas por los organizadores, los negociantes y hacenderos, para olvidarse las dificultades y la depresión económicas que suceden especialmente durante muerto de tiempo o de la temporada de cosecha-moliendo de azúcar.

Bacolod es la capital de Occidental de Negros, conocido como la Azucarera de las Filipinas y forma parte de Visayas Occidental en Filipinas Centrales.

Originalmente y irónicamente, las máscaras reflejaron la pena de las personas sobre la pérdida de sus amados cuando, en 1979, paquebote del lujo de Navegación de Negros, MV Don Juan chocó con un petrolero. Varias de las víctimas pertenecen a Negros las familias ricas.

Cinco años antes, había una gota grande en la producción de azúcar. Los Negrenses sufrieron del exceso de azúcar en el mercado mundial causado por la crisis caribe de azúcar y la introducción del substituto de azúcar como el Jarabe Alto de la Fructosa Maíz en Estados Unidos. Todo éstos llevaron al teniendo del primer Festival de Masskara en 1980. La propuesta original de Santiago para tener el desfile anual que utiliza máscaras para capturar la crisis en Negros, fue cambiada por el élite local en el baile de la calle y alegre-hacer festival. Estas imágenes ricas de máscaras fueron utilizadas por los hacenderos y políticos locales para ocultar el sufrimiento del Negrenses. Desde entonces, Festival de Masskara llegó a ser uno de las atracciones populares en Negros, engañando a miles de personas dentro de y fuera del país.

My Travel Woes (part 2)

My Travel Woes…
(Part 2 of 2 parts)


I had an asthma attack in USA

Back in 2003, everything was all set for our early morning drive to Niagara Falls, when I suffered from an unexpected bronchial asthma attack. Everybody advised me to just stay home, take a good rest and guard the house a la “Home Alone” kid. I firmly said “NO!”

Asthma is no joke, not to mention the chest and back pains that I had to endure. At Niagara, I felt my knees were shaking while queuing for our boat ride to flirt with the Maid of the Mist. But when we reached the foot of the falls, I had forgotten all about my asthma. I can’t describe that magical feeling being so close to the giant falls, hearing the laughter and jubilations of the passengers as the wind blew a bountiful amount of water all over, the joy in the faces of my parents, the magical sight of the rainbow on the background, all these lifted me up that no amount of asthma suffering could dampen my spirit.

The Niagara Falls experience was worth the risk I took in spite of my health concerns.


I was served an awful meal in Malaysia

I am adventurous when it comes to food. However, the taste of the packed meal served at the train on our night trip to Malaysia from Singapore made my stomach summersault. The slimy rice mixed with cracked corn and anchovies could pass for a hog meal. I chose to just sleep my hunger away.


The taxi driver in Hong Kong could not speak and understand English

On the last day of our shopping spree in Hong Kong, Leo, Lloyds and I made our last minute purchases at a night market called Stanley Market.

On board the taxi, I requested the driver, “Sir, can you take us to Stanley Market?” The driver replied yes. Later, I noticed that he was taking us to a different route, I asked, “Are you taking us to Stanley Market?” the driver said, “Yes.” Then, it came clear to me that the driver was taking us to the airport. It was late for me to realize that he could not speak nor understand English, but Chinese. Perhaps the only English word he could utter was "yes”.

Fumingly, I told him to stop the car and we got off. Luckily, the next cab driver could speak English. It was such a great relief.


It was a rainy day at the beach in Rio

It had been my dream for a long time to visit Rio de Janeiro and enjoy the sun and get a good burn while sipping caipirinha at the beach.

So, I decided to make it happen in September of 2006. However, it was such a great disappointment upon landing at Jigondas Airport when I discovered that the sun was nowhere to be found. It was raining. There were no beach goers at Ipanema or Leblon in their string bikinis.

I patiently waited for the sun to shine but I lost hope on the third day. I checked-out, went to the airport, and decided to get a ticket for Sao Paolo. As I was approaching Varig’s counter, the sun shone so bright, as if enticing me to just stay and enjoy Rio. So, I made a full turn, took the bus and returned to Ipanema.

What followed was a four-day holiday extravaganza at the beach.

My Travel Woes (part 1)

My Travel Woes…(Part 1 of two parts)


Travelling is not always that fun. Troubles may come unexpectedly. And when they do happen in one of your trips, my advice is, just maintain an open mind and consider them as part of the whole travel experience. Never let these travel woes ruin your holiday mood. Just enjoy the rest of the trip.

Hear me out and think how these hassles added thrill to my travels making them more exciting.


I lost my wallet containing banknotes, credit and ATM cards at Munich Airport

I felt my whole world collapsed when I found out that I lost my wallet with my cash, credit and ATM cards at Munich Airport. I was terrified at the thought of losing them halfway on my vacation. It’s no joke being left with almost nothing in a foreign land.

My suspect was the guy who bumped me at the airport. He distracted my attention and swiftly pick-pocketed me.

I was totally helpless. I never felt so poor my whole life. I wasted more than three hours at the Airport Police Station just to have my cards blocked, request for replacements and ask for a police report. Citibank would charge me an emergency replacement fee of USD350 per card or that would be USD700 for both Visa and MasterCard. I had to decline. It’s a highway robbery!

Instead, I asked my office to transfer money through a Western Union branch in Zurich because I would be going to Zurich in the next 5 days. I incurred USD350 conversion loss from PhP to USD to CHF because Western Union could only pay me CHF in Zurich. In Manila, Western Union wanted my office to remit in USD. My office had to buy USD using peso funds. The conversion process from PhP to USD and ultimately to CHF by Western Union was another robbery in a broad daylight. Everybody was in it for the money!


I travelled sin documentos in Argentina

This incident almost brought me to jail in Argentina. Please read my April post entitled “A Brave Yet Foolish Decision” in two parts.


I missed my Hong Kong flight

I missed my Hong Kong flight in 2004 with my business partners, Leo and Lloyds. We underestimated the highway traffic to the airport. We did not make it on time. We were rebooked on the first available flight the following day. My colleagues had to stay overnight in my flat because they don’t want that their families would know that they missed their flights. Never mind about the rebooking fee. We decided to just keep it among ourselves. Meanwhile, from the airport, an unexpected black-out in the whole Luzon occurred. When we reached my flat, the elevators were out of order. We had to use the stairs all the way from the ground floor up to my unit on the 22nd floor with our luggage. Too bad for Lloyds for using the stairways up to my unit in high-heeled shoes carrying an oversized bag.


I missed my train ride in Singapore

In 2000, Leo and I missed the night train from Singapore to Malaysia. Since the train had just left, the officer suggested that we take a taxi and catch the train at Johor Baru Station. It’s the station dividing Singapore and Malaysia. That taxi ride was equivalent to one half of our train fare to Malaysia.


My luggage was misrouted in Bologna

On my Holy Week vacation in Bologna last March 2008, I was terribly mad at the airport after I discovered that my luggage was missing. I only learned the following night that Austrian Air misrouted my luggage to Vienna.

I only had my Paul Smith messenger bag containing my travel documents, wallet and some personal stuff when I arrived in Bologna. I spent the rest of the night sleeping naked at my hotel room, anxious about the whereabouts of my personal belongings. The morning after, instead of taking a day tour, I spent half of the day shopping for clothes, underwear and toiletries.

My luggage was only delivered after 24 hours. Good enough I had a travel insurance. Philam reimbursed me PhP10,000 out of the Euro237 that I spent for clothes and toiletries. But still, the reimbursement was not enough to cover such unnecessary purchases.


My flight was delayed in Buenos Aires

A delayed flight could ruin your whole itinerary especially if you don’t have enough time for your connecting flights. Last year in Buenos Aires, my flight was delayed for three hours. As a consequence, I missed my connecting flight in Houston on my way to New York City. I got rebooked on the next available flight departing only after three hours. That was a six-hour delay combined.

My sister had to drive twice from Long Island to JFK Airport to pick me up. I didn’t get the chance of informing her about the delay because my mobile phone ran out of battery. Its charger was inside my checked-in luggage. The delays took one day of my holiday in New York.

Also, in 2004, I missed my connecting flight in Zurich with my colleague because of a two-hour delay of our plane’s take-off at London Heathrow Airport due to heavy runway traffic.

Upon our arrival at Zurich Airport, Swiss Air had to book us in one of its flights to Paris so we can catch a Cathay Pacific flight to Manila. The whole thing made it a 24-hour travel back home. It should only be 14 hours. That was ten-hour deprivation of the comfort of my home after more than a month of being away.

(With part 2)

Argentina paisajes

My Travel Vocabulary (English-Spanish)

My Travel Vocabulary

To those who are travelling to Spain and Latin Countries, I share with you my travel vocabulary and its Spanish translation.


My Travel Mates
English - Spanish
airline company - compaña aérea (Mexico- linea aérea
air stewardess, flight attendant, cabin crew - azafata
bell boy - botones
captain - capitán
commander,commandant - comandante
crew - tripulación
driver - chofer, conductor
front desk clerk - recepcionista
guide - guía
house maid - mucama
interpreter - interprete
passenger - pasajero
pilot - piloto
purser - contador
taxi driver - taxista
travel agency - agencia de viajes
waiter - camarero

The Place To Be
airport - aeropuerto
bath room - cuarto de baño
boarding gate - puerta de embarque
border - frontera
cabin - camarote
corridor,passage,pedestrian walkway - pasillo
counter - mostrador
customs - aduana
entrance - entrada
exit - salida
front desk,reception - recepcion
guest house, boarding house - pensión
hotel alojamiento - hotel
passport control - control de pasaportes
platform ( train) - anden
port - muelle
rail road - paso a nivel (Mexico- paso a desnivel)
station - estación
ticket office - taquilla
track, trail tarmac - pista
waiting room - sala de espera


Things That I Should Have and Things That I Need to Know
baggage cart - carrito
bed - litera
camera - maquina de fotos, cámara
camping tent - tienda de campana
car window, small window - ventanilla
caravan - caravana
change - cambio
control tower - torre de control
cruise - crucero
delay - retraso, demorado
excess baggage - sobrepeso
flight - vuelo
foreign currency - divisas
halt, stop - parada
information - información
itinerary, route/ (timetable- México) - itinerario
lane, route - vía
life jacket, life preserver chaleco - salvavidas
life raft - bote salvavidas
life vest, life preserver - salvavidas
line - línea
luggage,baggage - equipaje
magazine - revista
map - mapa
newspaper - periódico (Argentina – diario)
operating instructions for a flight, operational orders for a flight - consigna de vuelo
overnight bag, travelling bag - bolsa de mano
periódico - prensa
postage, post - postal
reservation - reserva
route, way - trayecto
seat - asiento
sleeping bag - saco de dormir
tax - impuesto
ticket - billete
timetable - horario
trunk, suitcase - maleta
turbulence - turbulencia
velocity - velocidad
visa - visado
visibility - visibilidad
window - ventana

How To Get There/Mode of Transport
airplane - avión
bicycle - bicicleta
bus - autobús
coach, railway, carriage - vagón
ferry - trasbordador
motorcycle - moto
ship - barco
train - tren
train coach - coche cama, ferro carril

How I Describe It…
jerky, hilly, bumpy - accidentado
aereal - aéreo
airconditioned - climatizado
comfortable - cómodo
complete - completo
spacious - espacioso
narrow - estrecho
uncomfortable -incomodo
slow - lento
luxurious - lujoso
modest, unpretentious - modesto
dangerous -peligroso
fast - rápido
normal - regular
reserved - reservado
certain - seguro
silent - silencio

To Do's
annoy - marear(se)
arrive - llegar
board - desembarcar
cancel - cancelar
change place - desplazarse
charge - cargar
check-in - facturar (Mexico- documentar)
complain - reclamar
confirm - confirmar
connect - enlazar
declare - declarar
derrail (train)- descarrillar
descend - bajar
discharge - descargar
embark, go on board - embarcar
exchange - hacer trasbordo
exit, leave - salir
fly - volar
go up, climb - subir
land - aterrizar
lodge - alojarse
navigate - navegar
reserve - reservar
ride, take - coger (Argentina, Mexico –tomar)
sail - zarpar
send-off - despedir(se)
take-off - despegar
top-over - hacer escala
travel - viajar
visit - visitar

CzechMate in Prague (fotos)

Charles Bridge



Italian Court
The small balcony with a small door built for a short king.



Leo, my business partner and friend



The Gothic five-naved Sta. Barbara Church

CzechMate in Prague (part 3)

CzechMate in Prague
17 years after the Velvet Revolution in 1989, I paid a visit to Czech Republic…


Our third day was scheduled for a visit outside the city in a town called Kutna Hora. This town experienced economic boom during the 13th century because of its silver mines. It used to mint silver coins for the monarch.

We woke up early for our three hour drive. The drive alone to Kutna Hora was already a treat. I marvelled at the beauty of landscapes and sceneries in springtime. The view was awesome.

We visited the Gothic Church of Sta. Barbara, the Italian Court where the royal family once resided and where the silvers were minted. It is also in this town where the Sedlec Ossuary can be found. It contains 40,000 to 70,000 human bones neatly piled, some were creatively arranged to form a chandelier, a cross, décors, and hangings on the wall.

Each of these places offered unique experiences. The Gothic Sta. Barbara Church displayed a peculiar charm because it has five naves. The small royal bedroom and the cute balcony, built for a short king at the Italian Court was amusing. Having an ice cold Czech beer in a bar near the Court was as good as the centuries-old silver coins displayed at the Court Museum. The bones at the Ossuary freaked me out. I never saw tons of skeletons like that. I started counting the skulls but after several attempts, I gave up. The guide informed us that scenes from the movie Dungeons and Dragons were filmed there. I can’t explain that eerie feeling inside that dungeon full of skeletons. After that Sedlec trip, it took me months to eat beef ribs or some boned-dish or that famous Filipino Bulalo soup with an abundant amount of cow’s leg bone for that matter.

We returned to the city past five in the afternoon. We got-off near Mala Strana, took some photos and ran like a wind to St. Vitus Cathedral to buy some rosaries and bambino pendants. The cathedral shop closes after six if I may recall. Leo bought a lot of religious stuff. He is a Catholic follower and he has two elderly aunts, both are nuns under the order of Sisters of Charity.

For him a cathedral visit serves two purposes. He goes there to pray as well to appreciate architecture and art . On my part, being a non-Catholic believer it’s more on the latter. He took time to pray, while I busied myself taking photos. We hurriedly went to the cathedral’s shop for the rosaries, pendants and other souvenirs. On the street going back to our apartment, he found out that he left his camera at the shop. He panicked.

He ran as fast as he could. I could imagine how he prayed so hard to all the saints for him to have his camera back. I can hear him say, “San Antonio de Padua…. “

His prayers were answered. He found his camera still lying at the counter of the shop. He must have prayed so hard!

Back in our Apartment, we took time to rest and prepared ourselves for our dates with the Czechs in the evening. It was not a usual kind of boy’s night out with hot girls ending in a usual question for the climax of the night, “Your place or mine?” It was different because our dates were all dead Czechs. We were going on a ghost hunting trip that night.

I needed extra energy and courage for that. So I thought, there can be no better answer save for two bottles of famous Czech beer and a steak. Czech beer is very good, one of the best beers I have tasted so far. I have to give it to them. They really make very good beer. But wait, “What’s this whip cream doing on my steak?” A sweet tasting steak. It was horrible! Okay, I said, “Beer for the Czechs and steak for the Argentines.”

Ghost hunting was never that scary after all. In fact I found it funny. Our tour guide took us to places where frequent encounters with ghosts happen. So there was this story about the headless soldier, the green man, the white lady and all those ghosts I can imagine. I expected to see real ghosts, but I ended up hearing ghost stories instead. What made it funny to me were the reactions of the tourists while listening to the stories. For instance, I saw how the story of a lady floating in the air frightened a young British girl. Okay, with her imaginations and all that, it was understandable. She is just a kid, so ghost stories can easily scare her. But wait a sec, “Why is this white man in his mid- twenties, with a body passable for a rugby player, can display a frightened look while hearing the story of a headless soldier?” I don’t understand it. Can any one give me a better explanation?

For the rest of the week, we were on our own. No more guided tours. I spent two early morning jogs, looked for a cyber café to check my e-mails and shopped for some clothes. Our last free day before hitting the road to the airport was such a perfect day, the sun was up and the weather was tolerable. We had some bottles of beer. The best part was when we came across this Argentine restaurant in Prague called El Gaucho. They served the perfect steak for me, just the way I wanted my steak should be. Saludos!

Leo and I parted ways at the airport. He was on the last days of his grand tour that time after visiting South America and other European countries. As for me, Prague was just my first destination. I was heading to Munich, Barcelona, Switzerland, Rio de Janiero, Miami, Chicago and New York.

Looking back in 1989, at the cross road of my life, I can say, I chose the right direction. Now, I am happy and hope that I forever will be. Friends come and go. Losing a good friend is a sad thing and finding a new one is a gift, a blessing worth keeping.

To the Czechs, "Your Velvet Revolution had inspired and led me to the right path, this I thank you. 'Till we meet again."

CzechMate in Prague (part 2)

Part 2
CzechMate in Prague
17 years after the Velvet Revolution in 1989, I paid a visit to Czech Republic…

Leo, my business partner and I, rented an apartment along the street of Soukanitzka. The building was very old, a silent witness I guess to the decades of political and economic events that shaped this country.

At present, Prague belongs to the Czech Republic. The Czechs and the Slovaks divided Czechoslovakia in 1993. As a result, the countries of Czech Republic and Slovakia were established. It is a charming ancient city. It is one of the most beautiful cities of Europe with 10 of UNESCO’s list of World Heritage Sites.

We joined a city tour. Our tour guide had a very good command of British accent. I remembered how he narrated that during the Communist rule, they had to queue for bread and grains for their daily ration. It was tough according to him. He said, a television set would cost them their annual leave pay so when his family decided to get one, they worked one year straight, forgoing their annual vacation just to have that box in their living room. He recalled that when the Communists left the country, they found out that Czechoslovakia has been producing so many grains, more than enough to feed the whole population. But the largest portion of the production was being shipped to Moscow, the capital of Russia.

The guide took us to the Astronomical Clock or the Prague Orloj located at the old town square. This clock is noted for “The Hourly Walks of the Apostles.” Moving figures of the Apostles and other sculptures come out every hour. It’s one of the coolest things I saw there. The Prague Orloj is a must see for every visitor.

Then we went to the famous Charles Bridge of King Charles IV. It is made of stone and was constructed in the 14th century. It crosses the Vltava River. We had a good view of the river and the bridge because part of the tour was a river cruise. It was in this cruise where we met two lovely ladies, a British blond and an Australian beauty. Cool girls. The whole tour could have been boring without their coquettish stories, gestures, and smiles.

Another interesting stop was at the Wenceslas Square. It is one of the main squares where businesses and cultural communities are located. We saw a lot of shops selling Swarovski Crystals. I can see how tourist ladies spent so much time looking at the crystals. Some were already busy doing their retail therapy on these shops.

Part of the whole day tour was a visit to the Jerusalem Synagogue. It is the biggest Jewish place of worship in Prague. Our guide mentioned some statistics about the Jew population before and after the Holocaust. He told us horrifying stories about purging the of the Jews. I was crying inside while listening to him. I wished that my college friend was there with me hearing his stories. Our friendship paid the price for our opposing political beliefs. However, we may have parted ways but I surely knew that we never lost our respect for each other. (With part 3- last part)

CzechMate in Prague (part 1)

(PART 1)
17 years after the Velvet Revolution in 1989, I paid a visit to Czech Republic…

I was a sophomore at the University of the Philippines in the Visayas in Iloilo City when the events that were unfolding in Central Europe brought me to a turning point. Those events influenced me in making a hard decision: of rejecting Communism, of parting ways with a very close friend who had completely embraced it and had persistently encouraged me to do the same.

It was in December of 1989 when the Velvet revolution in Czechoslovakia had succeeded. A month before that, weeks of civil unrests in East Germany led to the fall of Berlin Wall. The reunification of East and West Germany followed.

I wished my friend understood me. How can I try this ideology when Europe had already rejected it? The Berlin wall had collapsed. The Czechoslovakians revolted and freed themselves. Two years later, the mother country of Communism collapsed when in December of 1991 the Soviet Union fell.

After we parted ways, I did not see my close friend in the University again. He became a full time insurgent, living in the mountains of Iloilo. I heard that he took the task of lecturing the recruits.

A year later, I graduated from the University. The UP College of Management proved to be effective in harnessing my business skills. I joined the corporate world. Six years later, I became a Capitalist, running my own logistics outfit. I partnered with a new found friend.

I worked so hard to make our business venture a success. Events happening in the world worked on our favour. Philippines has opened its doors to Globalization. I saw enormous amount goods coming in and out of the country. Good for our business. One day I woke up realizing that we are already running a company with 45 names in our payroll. Tough.

It was in the second half of 2006 when I decided to visit Prague with my business partner, the place where the Velvet Revolution took place. I have to thank the Czechs for opening my eyes, for helping me chose a path. For if not from them , I could be in the mountains now fighting for a cause or worse, I’m already six feet below the ground. (with part 2)

The Girl From Ipanema

The Girl from Ipanema
How my fear of losing my kidney stopped me from chasing La Garota de Ipanema….

Rio de Janiero, Brazil is one of my favourite holiday destinations. Getting there is easy. I only need a valid passport and a yellow fever shot. No visa application blues. Yes, Filipinos can enter this former Portuguese colony for 90 days without a visa. World renowned beaches of Copa Cabana, Leblon and Ipanema are all there waiting to be discovered. Heard about topless beautiful Brazilian women in their string bikinis? God bless Brazil!

Last February, I invented a special reason to convince myself why should I go back to Rio for the third time. I reasoned out that my birthday falls on a Carnival week. A bombastic carnival would surely shake-off my another-year-older birthday blues away.

Ipanema and Leblon are my favourite beaches in Rio. I don’t like Copa Cabana. It’s too crowded. In Leblon and Ipanema, quality Brazilians and foreigners converge as if they are in a Mecca.

When in Rio, I was told to act like one of the Cariocas, their natives. I should not bring so much cash in the beach. If I can’t guard my camera, mobile phone and Ipod, I should not take them with me because los ratones de la playa (beach rats) from the nearby Fabella (poor getthos), just await to steal my valuables the moment I don’t pay much attention on these stuff.

I chose to go to Ipanema on my first day. After all, it is only a few minute walk from my hotel in Calle Arpoador. Ipanema was full that time, obviously because of the carnival season. Beside Ipanema is Leblon. Both beaches were blest with nature’s bounty: breasts and butts in all shapes, colours, and sizes. I love Brazil! I prayed that God would spare these beaches and women from natural calamities. Good Lord, keep them safe forever. Amen!

Sun bathing time. I rented an umbrella and a folding-chair for RHS 16 or roughly equivalent to USD 9. The next good thing being in the beach aside from sun bathing and eye-ball rolling is drinking Caipirinha. It is a Brazilian national drink made from cachaça and other flavours like lemon or passion fruit. Rum or vodka could also be used as substitutes.

Three rounds of Caipirinha under the scorching heat of the sun were enough to make me dizzy. The scent of marijuana in the air made me dizzier. Sexy bodies littered everywhere seemed to be the last thing to blow my mind at any moment. Then my thoughts were interrupted by a henna boy who offered to draw a scorpion on my right arm. I agreed for RHS 60.

Henna session was over. “One more Caipirinha please.” I ordered.

While in the middle of sipping my fourth drink, came a gay couple with a young Brazilian mestiza. They spread their beach towels near me and shortly afterwards, they occasionally did torrid kissing bouts. And the young lady…whoaaaa! She was applying sunscreen lotion all over her sexy body right beside me.

I started my usual pick-up line in South America with this girl and said… “¿Habla Ingles?” She said no. “¿Habla español?” She replied, “No, solo Portuges.” Hijo de la Madre! Another communication barrier to hurdle. I don’t speak Portuguese!

She patted the back of the other lady, and signalled her that she needed an interpreter. The lady speaks Portungol, half Spanish half Portuguese. Strange. So we tried hard to understand each other. The lady was her mom and the other lady was her mom’s partner.

A few more brain-wrecking Portungol conversation and then la mama asked me to go with them near the Sambadrome where we can enjoy Brazilian music and dance in the street. Her daughter looked and smiled sweetly as if telling me, “Come on, let’s go and do the samba.”

With strangers, I always trust my instincts. I said, “Good Lord who created these hot Brazilians, please give me a sign. Should I stay on the beach or go?” I looked at them once more, the young girl smiled again. So I said to myself, GO! I paid the bill but when I stood up, I panicked. I lost my red Havaianas España slippers. I was totally pissed off. Yes, I was in a Havaianas country but that pair of slippers was special to me. I bought it in Manila. It has travelled with me in continents of Europe, North and South America for two years.

So I walked with them barefoot. I was trailing them. The couple were talking in Portuguese and occasionally gave one another a smack. Then the other lady talked to somebody on the phone. I took the chance of asking the mother while her partner was on the line if where were we going. She said we would take the car because Sambadrome is 30 minutes away from the beach.

I didn’t like the way my heart beat. I was a bit scared. Wild thoughts entered my mind. Thanks but no thanks caipirinha. Then we were in a basement parking. The mother excused herself and went to the rest room. The lover followed.

All of a sudden, scenes from the movie Turistas flashed in my mind. It’s a movie about the tourists who were lost in the jungle of Brazil after a bus accident, trapped, and became victims of a kidney for sale syndicate ring. I felt fear. When the couple returned, I told them that I am not going anymore. I said my feet were aching and I needed to buy a pair of slippers and go back to my hotel to catch some sleep.

I told them, if I can wake up before 8 in the evening, I would meet them up at the Sambadrome. After all, the parade would start at 9 p.m. It was only past 4 p.m. I asked for their contact number and told them that I would call them should I decide to go out later that night. And we parted ways at the basement parking.

I felt a sense of disgust in them. But I followed my instincts. I chose to just enjoy the rest of the day alone. I feared of losing my kidney or getting robbed. It was enough that I lost my favourite España slippers on my birthday. That was my sign. Foolish interpretation? Was I being paranoid because of too much Marijuana in the air at the beach? Too much Caipirinha perhaps? I don’t know, but better safe than sorry.

Dream and Lies of Franco

Dream and Lies of Franco


I encountered this political artwork of Picasso in Reyna Sofia Museum in Madrid last March. Compared to his other works, this one made me smile. It has a powerful anti-Franco sentiment put in a satirical manner.

Franco lived a life of lies, of make believe, of great power, greater than the King of Spain. This foolish dream caused so much sufferings among the Spanish people especially the senseless deaths of hundreds of civilians in the Guernica bombing courtesy of his Nazi partner Adolf Hitler.

In the local context, I saw how the Marcoses dreamt and amassed so much power and lived a la royalties with their self-proclaimed Maharlika bloodline. The supposed queen is from Leyte and the powerful king, from Ilocos. They came from Philippines poor provinces. Dream on!

It was because of this royal illusion that brought twenty years of conjugal dictatorship in the Philippines, the darkest period in the history of Philippine democracy.

We have our own version of Franco or Marcos in varying degrees. It’s never wrong to dream. To some of us, what we have become is because of our never-ending pursuit to make our dreams a reality at all cost, no matter what. But we must not forget that a realized dream never guaranty true happiness. It’s only when our conscience is clear and when we have not violated another ones rights make a Franco or a Marcos in us real happy!


Picasso: El Guernica
Libro desplegable

Publicado en 2003 por Scala Publishers Ltd,
Gloucester Mansions 140ª Shafesbury Avenue
Londres WC2H 8HD

One month after Franco's troops were besieging Madrid, Picasso created the series Dream and Lies of Franco. This poem in prose of unconnected words and violent language expresses his refusal before Franco's actions. The title of the work, accuses Franco of chasing a dream instead of the reality and of living through a lie and not the truth. The poem was accompanied by an engraving of 18 panels which are interwoven by different monstrous images of Franco. To contemplate, these panels turn out to be immensely a developer, since the motives, now already well-known (such as the bullfight, the woman's head crying, and the mother with the dead son) they acquire new political meanings that replace those that associate with the personal traumas of Picasso. Thus the stage is prepared for the role it more defied up to the moment – of transmitting the tragedy of Guernica.

In the engraving, Dream and lies of Franco was displayed on the contrary. Franco was shown with a sword in hand and with the head covered inappropriately by a crown and a mantilla, already before the fifth panel (that appears to the left side). In him, Franco's strange and monstrous figure loses the crown and the sword on having been attacked by a bull.

The series begins with the image of the sun smiling mockingly at Franco. He sat precariously on an old horse that is spoiled by simple expression. But on the last panel, the satire has turned into frightfulness. The arms of the woman at the centre are waved violently and an arrow crosses her neck. The head was turned up, in a position that he reminds to that of the woman with the dead child in the Guernica.

Sueño y Mentiras de Franco

Sueño y Mentiras de Franco

Vi este trabajo de Picasso en el Museo de Sofía Reina en Madrid el mes pasado. Comparado con sus otros trabajos, éste me hizo sonreír. Este tiene un sentimiento contra Franco poderoso puesto en una manera satírica.

Franco vivió una vida de mentiras, de hacen creer, del poder enorme, mayor que el Rey de España. Este sueño tonto costo tantos sufrimientos entre la gente española sobre todo las muertes insensatas de cientos de civiles en el bombardeo de Guernica bombardeo por cortesía de su compañero Nazi Adolf Hitler.

En el contexto local, vimos como los Marcoses soñaron y acumularon tanto poder y la riqueza sólo para vivir como una familia real. Ellos soñaron con su sangre Maharlika. Los Marcoses eran de Ilocos y Leyte, una de las provincias pobres en las Filipinas. Es debido a este sueño real los veinte años traídos de la dictadura conyugal en nuestro pais, el período más oscuro en la historia de la democracia filipina.

Tenemos nuestra propia versión de Franco o Marcos en grados variantes. Esto nunca se equivoca para soñar. A algunos de nosotros, lo que nos hemos hecho es debido a nuestra búsqueda interminable para hacer nuestros sueños una realidad en todo el coste, pase lo que pase. Pero no debemos olvidar que un sueño realizado nunca garantiza la felicidad verdadera. ¡Es sólo cuándo nuestra conciencia está clara y cuando no hemos violado otros derechos de hacen Franco o Marcos en nosotros verdadero feliz!

*****

Picasso: El Guernica
Libro desplegable

Publicado en 2003 por Scala Publishers Ltd,
Gloucester Mansions 140ª Shafesbury Avenue
Londres WC2H 8HD

Un mes después de que las tropas de Franco sitiasen Madrid, Picasso realizó la serie Sueño y mentira de Franco. Este poema en prosa de palabras inconexas y violento lenguaje expresa su repulsa ante las acciones de Franco. El titulo de la obra, basado en un tema conocido de la literatura española, acusa a Franco de perseguir un sueño en vez de, de la realidad y de vivir una mentira y no la verdad. El poema iba acompañado de un grabado de 18 paneles, en el que los temas visuales ya explorados en este libro se entretejen con distintas imágenes monstruosas de Franco. Contemplar estos paneles resulta inmensamente revelador, puesto que los motivos, ahora ya conocidos (tales como la corrida de toros, la cabeza de mujer llorando, y la madre con el hijo muerto) adquieren nuevos significados políticos que sustituyen a aquellos asociados con las traumas personales de Picasso. De esta forma, se prepara el escenario para el papel de más desafió hasta el momento – el de transmitir la tragedia de Guernica.

Al ser un grabado, Sueño y mentira de Franco está realizado a la inversa. Franco aparece, espada en mano y con la cabeza cubierta inapropiadamente por una corona y una mantilla, ya antes del quinto panel (que se muestra a la izquierda). En él, la extraña y monstruosa figura de Franco pierde la corona y la espada al ser atacado por un toro.

La serie se inicia con la imagen del sol sonriendo burlonamente a Franco. Esté va sentado precariamente sobre un viejo caballo que se destripa con expresión bobalicona. Pero al llegar al último panel, la sátira se ha convertido en horror. Los brazos de la mujer del centro se agitan violentamente y una flecha atraviesa su cuello. La cabeza aparece girada hacia arriba, en una posición que recuerda a la de la mujer con el niño muerto en el Guernica.