My Sugarlandia

Never will I turn my back on this part of the world. This is my sanctuary. Never it failed to protect and console me from life's painful experiences on broken hearts and broken dreams. Here I hibernate and gather strength when everything seems hopeless. Life has always been sweet here, in my own sugarlandia.

Masskara 2013

October 2013, Bacolod City, Negros Occidental Philippines

I always get facinated with innocent smiles, myriad of colors, great music and food at sugarlandia  during Masskara celebrations. Invited two good friends with me. It was real fun. Best part is, we strengthened our bond of friendship. Priceless moments with precious people.

la vida es un ratico

La Vida Es Un Ratico

La Vida Es Un Ratico

de Juanes

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Upuf7sLiBLU

Estamos pasando el tiempo mas dificil en nuestra vida. No hay palabra nada puedo describer lo que me siento en este momento.

Que cambie todo pero no el amor. Es la mision mas grande que tenemos tu y yo. En esta vida que aprender enteder y saber, porque estos tiempos son dificiles y es mas escasa la verdad.

Que cambie todo pero no el amor. Nuestra familia es mas importante ya lo se, y la debemos proteger y volver a tejer porque estos tiempos son dificiles y mas escasa la verdad. Porque estos tiempos son dificiles y estamos sentando tan lejos el uno del otro. Porque estos tiempos son dificiles y estamos atados de manos y corazon.

No dejemos que ese no se acabe bien. Todavia hay muchas cosas por hacer. No dejemos que ese no se acabe bien. La vida es un ratico, un ratico, nada mas. No dejemos que ese no se acabe bien. Vienen tiempos buenos y los malos, ya se van, se van, se van. Quedate tu.

Que cambie todo pero no el amor es todo lo que yo te pido no te pido mas. Dame la mano por favor no me dejes caer,porque estos tiempos son mas dificiles y es mas escasa la verdad. Porque estos tiempos son mas dificiles y estamos sentados tan lejos el uno del otro. Porque estos tiempos estamos atados de manos y corazon.

No dejemos que ese no se acabe bien. Todavia hay muchas cosas por hacer. No dejemos que ese no se acabe bien la vida es un ratico un ratico nada mas no dejemos que ese no se acabe bien, Vienen tiempos buenos y los malos. Ya se van, se van, se van

No dejemos que ese no se acabe bien. Todavia hay muchas cosas por hacer no dejemos que ese no se acabe bien. La vida es un ratico un ratico nada mas. No dejemos que ese no se acabe bien, vienen tiempo buenos y los malos ya se van se van se van. QUEDATE TU

At Rosedale Station

At Rosedale Train Station

Everyone has his own story to tell.

Waiting for the next train at Rosedale Station for my last minute shopping in Manhattan, I bumped into Maria, a very nice Colombiana in her 50’s. Maria is one of the many migrant workers in the Big Apple doing limpieza, or house cleaning, part- time or on-call basis.

Since the train is yet to arrive in the next hour, tried to strike a conversation with her in Spanglish. After all, an hour wait doing nothing is too much to bear.

She has two daughters in Antioquia and is separated from her husband. Most of the money she earns goes straight to Colombia for her daughters’ daily needs and education.

Life is not easy for her in New York but she exudes optimism. She has a happy disposition in life. In Antioquia she said, “Not all women have the same opportunity like me to be able to come and work in the US. I’m blessed. Gracias a Dios.”

I shared with her good memories of my recent visit in Medellin and in Bogota. She was fascinated but homesickness can be seen all over her face. “Que bonito! I had been planning to visit Antioquia for the last three years. I hope I can make it happen soon.” She said.

I’ve learned that she’s been in the US for seven years without seeing home. Her meager income has prevented her from doing so. Likewise, she is saving money for a house in Colombia. With a plastic bag of sandwich, fries and a can of soda in her hands, she was ready for supper when she gets to her apartment.

Her story is not extra-ordinary. In fact it is very common to several Filipinasworking abroad as domestic helpers. What interests me about her tale is that it’s full of hope for better days to come. It’s a noble story of doing great sacrifices for family members, of putting aside personal happiness so her children can live a decent life. Most important of all is the virtue of being grateful for the many blessings she receives, of being contented to life’s gifts no matter how big or small.

We had a very great time talking about going to a rumba or a discoteca, eating bandeja paisa and getting drunk of Antioquia’s old-time favorite Arguadiente. I told her that bandeja paisa is too heavy for me and that arguadiente is too strong. She burst in a minute of laughter. When she learned that we passed the night dancing salsa, her laughs were unstoppable.

Before we knew it, the long wait was over. The train arrived on time. We bid goodbye and exchanged besos. She was going towards Jamaica. I was heading to Penn Station.

Of Leaving Dogs and Pets Behind

Of Leaving Dogs and Pets Behind

Everything is ready for the long-planned trip, but who will take care of the dogs and the other pets?

I sometimes hear friends being so worried on who will take care of their pets when they take a holiday break. Pets are family members. They too should be a part of the big plan.

My lawyer friend Joan completed all Mumu’s papers, a shitzu breed, ahead of hers when she migrated to the US. Lucky Mumu, she is now a US resident citizen! However, she sold her beloved Python Snake. Imagine her bringing a 5-foot Phyton snake to America! “Will the serpent be issued a US visa too just in case?” I hope so.

My elder sister left a pair of love birds with her neighbor for feeding while they were away for Christmas three years ago. They made advance payment to the old lady. When holiday was over, they claimed the birds and to their surprise, they were greeted with a pair of cold bodies in the cage waiting to be buried six feet below the ground because the crook just took their money. The birds died of thirst.

Unmindful of the security issues, my brother-in-law in NYC left the key of their house to a friend so he can feed Pumba, a pug, while they were on a vacation. A big NO in the Philippines.

I have a male Jack Russel Terrier named Marco and a local breed named Dora. They are my farm dogs. However, I don’t have any problem leaving them behind when I travel because they live with my parents at the farm. Lucky angels.

So when you leave, who will take the dogs out???

So the Trip is Over and the Fun has Ended

So the Trip is Over and the Fun has Ended

Universal truth, vacations are short-lived. We met people, found new friends, share travel experiences with them. We touched their lives, they too became a part of our lives.

But when the holiday is over, we are faced with the sad reality of bidding goodbye to the wonderful people we met, hoping against hope that our paths would cross again someday.

Been seeing friends and newfound friends come and go. Saying goodbye may not be easy. But that’s how it goes.

We just have to face another universal truth that when somebody leaves, another one would come, that when somebody closes the door on you, then another welcomes you with arms wide-open.

Then you embrace this new chapter and another journey begins.

Home is Where the Heart Is

Home Is Where the Heart Is

I may be faraway from home whenever I am in the Americas but I always get a piece of home in New York City.

My sister Lanie is a Yorker. She’s a nurse for over 20 years in the Big Apple where she realized her dreams together with her husband and with her lovely daughter Kay.

A stop-over for a couple of days in NYC is a very good idea. Catching up with her is part of the fun. Biggest part of what I am and what I have, I owe it to her. In her selfless ways, countless times she’s there to help financially, morally and spiritually.

I’ve witnessed how her daughter grew from a toddler to a young pretty lady. I’ve seen how she equipped her with education and special skills from ballet, Taekwondo, to playing with musical instruments like drums and guitar. I adore them both.

Looking back, we were just innocent kids, climbing trees, riding water buffalo, hunting bird’s nest. Those were the days.

I am glad to have a big sister like her. She’s always there no matter what. I found a piece of home in her. She will forever be in my heart because home is where the heart is.

Thank you sis.

Letting Go

Heading back home after the Colombian trip, got this sms message from a friend. "I believe we write our own stories. And each time we think we know the end—we don’t. Perhaps luck exists somewhere in the world of planning, the world of chance and in peace that comes from knowing that you can't know it all. Life’s funny that way. Once you let go of the wheel, you might just end up right where you belong. Learn to let go."

Letting go is liberating. But letting go of something so beautiful might be a foolish thing. Hang-on if it's real, if it's not...Vete puta mierda!!!

La Camisa Negra

Discovering Juanes

Best part of my Colombian visit is knowing where Juanes lives in Medellin. Leo and Giovanni drove me while Alejandro took me to El Tesoro, an Ayala like high-end mall and finally got his CD, Mi Sangre Tour edition

www.youtube.com

www.youtube.com

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QQN5ZRugVzc

Nuevas Palabras

Nuevas Palabras

Colombian locals have a treasure of localized Spanish words very distinct from the traditional Spanish (Castellano). My friends, tour guide and taxistas taught me a few.

Aca - - here (not aqui)

Arguadiente – a typical liquor in Colombia seems like gin to me.

Bacano - something good

Bandeja Paisa - a heavy plate of meal with chorizo, carne, carne and many carne!

Bien dotado – well endowed ( I won’t go there far to explain…..)

Chevere - something good – they say que chevere!

Chimba - same as chevere – they say que chimba! o muy chimba.

Chino/chinezo – a friend of someone’s friend ( not Chinese)

Costeno/Costena- people from the coast side of Colombia (Cali, Santa Marta, Cartagena)

Finka - a house in the farm or a ranch

Paisa - people from Medellin

Parcero – friend ( not amigo)

Pollo/polla or gallina- a teenager or a young guy/lady ( Pollo is chicken in Spanish. Colombians are fund of making yummy chicken soup. So the young ones are like chicken soup, amen!)

rollo/rolla- people from Bogota

Rumba – dance/disco ( rumbear - to go to a discoteca)

Tirititir - to make love ( or they say hacer un tirititi)

Colombians don’t say “de nada” as a response to your “Thank you”. They would instead reply – “Con mucho gusto.”

When you are in a market place, they would say “ A su orden mi amor.” At your service sir/my love.” How’s that for you? Instantly somebody calls you mi amor. Que ricoooo!

Gracias Jose Raul, Alexander, Giovanni, Leo y Alejandro. Parceros, fue una chimba estar con vosotros. Hasta luego bacanos.

Viva Colombia!

Que Boludo!

Que Boludo!

I was denied entry in Buenos Aires, sent back to Colombia for an immigration official's lack of knowledge in interpreting my visa.

April 3, 2010, Buenos Aires, Argentina, this day will never be forgotten. I was a victim of someone’s ignorance, of someone’s greatest exercise and display of arrogance. He is a moron.

Arriving from Bogota, Colombia via flight LA 4641. I was refused entry by an immigration chief in Buenos Aires for his erroneous interpretation of my visa, which he declared expired. The truth of the matter is, it is not. The Argentine Consulate in Manila later confirmed this to me through an e-mail.

I was holding a multiple-entry business visa for 15 days with three-month validity issued in Manila on February 3, 2010 by the Argentine Embassy. I entered Buenos Aires using this visa on February 16, 2010 spending ten good days of business and leisure leaving me 5 more allowable days on my next entry within three months. Hence, my supposed three day-visit this April.

I am collecting the frame of a leather chair I bought in my first visit from The Sweater, Inc. in Buenos Aires, a company that sells fine leather goods mostly from cow.

Apparently, when the first immigration officer examined my documents, he didn’t know how to interpret the type of visa I was holding. He referred my case to his superior who declared it expired. He explained that it has expired after 15 days from my first entry. (Mute button on…) Duh! Then what’s the three-month validity clause for? Please explain Mr. Officer!

The not so dumb junior officer seemed unconvinced of his superior’s interpretation, approached the lady officer in the next cubicle and referred my case with her. They discussed and were later interrupted by the smart officer who called him to come to his office. I took the opportunity to approach the lady who was in a rush to take her break and asked her if something was wrong with my visa because I was the last man standing from flight LA 4641. She quickly said, in my opinion there is NONE. Then the rest of the officers were greeting each other Feliz Pascua and exchanged besos and rushed home. I realized then it was already Easter Sunday.

I politely told the immigration officer that he might have just been mistaken. I told him I had been issued same type of visas from several Schengen States and the immigration officials didn’t interpret it that way. Further, I explained to him that I had been issued Argentine visas for the last five years, give or take. If I may recall, I clarified this matter with their consulate in Manila two years ago but he is the type of officer who doesn’t listen to reasons. With such a commanding voice he said, “You were badly informed by our Embassy in Manila!”

(Mute push button on por favor!) Really sir? Then you are the smart guy and the people from your Manila office are the stupid ones? Vale?

He ordered for my immediate return to my port of origin via LAN, which is Bogota, which left Buenos Aires in the next hour.

I appealed that he would give me a chance to call the Embassy of the Philippines in Buenos Aires for a possible assistance regarding my case but he said, “NO! What we do in Argentina is independent from what the Philippine Embassy does.”

“What’s the point of allowing Embassies and Consulates in Argentina Sir? I don’t understand. You are so contagious!” (Mute button on again!)

I was immediately escorted to the plane. They sequestered my old and new passports and made me take the LA 2428 flight to Lima. Then at Lima Airport, I also had an escort and I was not allowed to get hold of my passports up to Medellin, Colombia, my next destination entering Colombia as a tourist this time. (Mute button please...) “Please explain to me, why am I being treated like a criminal. I am not going anywhere! I'm taking the flight to Colombia. Give me back my passports. I am holding a 10-year multiple visa to the United States, most of the stamps there are B2 with 6 months allowable stay. I will not over stay in your country! Besides you already refused me entry. Give them back to me baby, now, Ahora mismo! Pronto tonto!”

A LAN crew handed over my passports to the immigration officials in Colombia. The Colombian officer asked me to explain why I was denied entry in Buenos Aires and what’s with the visa problem Buenos Aires had declared in my papers. I explained and showed him my visa and he smiled and said after inspecting it that to his understanding it is valid. He then welcomed me and granted me entry to Colombia. (Mute button for the real smart guy….) “Thank you sir, you are the one! A person like you should be the one’s to be commissioned in all immigration offices in the whole civilized and modern world! Viva Colombia!”

In Lima, airport and LAN officers opined that there is nothing wrong with my visa, it is valid and it has not yet expired and that Buenos Aires should have granted me three-day stay.

(Intermission please) _-A perfect 10 - a los peruanos y colombianos, y el otro 10 para el senor en Buenos Aires por ser ganador de Moron Olympics y no nos olvidemos un plaque para el senor Filipino por ser un victima! Vale? Muchas Gracias! A sus orden senor, con mucho gusto!!!

I believe I was not accorded with my proper rights as a stranger in Argentina. Understand that when Argentines come and visit the Philippines, they can stay in the country for 20 days without visa. I didn’t see any show of reciprocity in its smallest form or some kind of consideration just for three days in Buenos Aires from this immigration officer.

He made a costly mistake. I paid dearly for someone's incapacity to deliver his job . Que Boludo!

Reminiscing India

My sobrino Jose had just finished his 16-month work contract as a marinero in an Arab tanker based in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. Last week, we picked him up at the airport with my sis and the rest of her family. He’s on shore now but most of all he’s home at last.

I can say we have a very good bonding even though we have a 12 year age gap. He enjoys being with me, to the point that sometimes if not oftentimes he invades my privacy. As expected, he went straight to my flat right from the airport and there goes my privacy out of the window again.

He had the chance to work and be with Indian seafarers. He has fond memories of them. The other day, we watched this year's Academy Award Winner Slum Dog Millionaire. I paid much attention on the scenes about Agra and Taj Mahal. The movie brought back good memories of my Delhi and Agra trip in 2006.

Jose on the other hand recalls his Indian colleagues. He’d say, his mobile phone was bought for him by an Indian friend because he didn’t had an off-shore break in Dammam. He asked himself in a melancholic way if will he be able to see them again. I told him, “I guess so.”

For the good Indian’s who touched our lives… I share these priceless fotos. Thank you so much!

A Case of Bebe Gandang-Hari

This is for Oryx and his Brazilian friend who had a falling-out over a sexy mulatta. The Brazilian guy had a record-breaking torrid kissing bout with her at the dance-floor of The Embassy one Saturday night. The crowd cheered while The Oryx distanced himself from the scene ashamed of what was going on.

The Brazilian got mad with Oryx when he learned much later that the girl he was about to take home turned out to be a Bebe Gandang Hari. Too late for him to realize that she was a he. And poor Oryx got the blame for his failure to warn him.

So here’s your rhyme Oryx. Thank you for sharing it with me. One day when you visit Brazil, you will understand why your friend failed to notice the Bebe in her.

At the beaches of Rio, you might get confused as well…. Ha! Ha! Ha!

Mucho miedo que tengas
De la mujer con barbillas,
Aunque sea encantada,
Todavía tiene la polla.
Se parece como una hembra
Ya que la verdad está en sombra
Que tengas mucho cuidado -
La Bebé no tiene coño!

Mystic India

New Delhi

Just three days after the exit of Year 2005, I got a call from the headquarters of my client in India to fly to New Delhi before their SAP system goes live.

It was my first time in Mystic India, home to one of the world's oldest civilizations.

It was not a usual preparatory landing announcement I heard a few minutes before our plane touches down the runway of Indira Gandhi Int’l Airport. One of the flight attendants of Air India announced that the plane must be disinfected, then much earlier than I thought, they came spraying the whole aircraft with air disinfectant. That caused zero visibility inside the plane, which almost triggered my asthma.

My team worked like crazy for over 14 hours daily at my client’s office and in our hotel rooms drowning ourselves with coffee to keep us mentally alert.

A few times we would take a break and see New Delhi at night as it was impossible to explore the city by day with the overwhelming tasks to be done. We explored some good Indian restaurants and ate authentic Indian cuisine rich with spices and flavours. It was a gastronomic feat for me, but to my colleague, it was a nightmare not to mention the discomfort she endures at the toilet every morning. So the rest of the trip she fed herself with Mc Donald’s vegetarian burger and fries.

New Delhi is beautiful with its tree-lined boulevards. Though I felt something creepy inside once our car would pass line of trees full of crows especially when they turned New Delhi’s blue sky to black as they took their flight just like in the horror movies.

My hard work was rewarded when my client announced on my last day that they are taking me to Agra, to see Taj Mahal, one of the 8 wonders of the world.

I enjoyed the long drive from New Delhi to the City of Agra. On our way, it was an interesting sight seeing India’s holy cows in all shapes and sizes roaming around, freely, untouched, and feeding on whatever they find edible in the streets, neighbourhood backyards, and open fields. In this part of the world, cows are considered sacred. Cows are not being turned to burgers here, so forget about that quarter pounder meal you craved for at Mc Donald’s. After all, India’s authentic dishes will never fail your quest for a unique gastronomic experience.

Taj Mahal is considered as the jewel of Muslim art. It’s a picture of perfect symmetry of structures, made of high quality white marble.

Behind the beauty of this UNESCO declared World Heritage Site is a sad love story of an Indian Emperor Shah Jahan and his favourite third wife Mumtaz Mahal, who died after giving birth to their 14th child. Taj Mahal was constructed by the emperor as a final resting place for his wife.

The construction cost was so immense that it caused the emperor’s post after a coup was successfully staged against him by his son. The building of Taj Mahal almost led the empire to bankruptcy.

However, in these days, it placed Agra in the world map, drawing millions of tourists annually.

Before the day tour was over, I took time to queue and have my picture taken at the bench where one can have the full background of this wonder of the world. Celebrities like John Lennon and Yoko Ono posed there, even the royalties of England like Prince Charles and the late Princess Diana.

Cheap Chao "Surrenders"

So what's up Cheap Chow? You started the war and surrendered too early? Can't stand this coming Sunday the fury of angry 130,000 servants who will lambast you, curse you, and would be very mean to you... that their words will reverberate in your thoughts on and on and on and you would regret your life how on earth you were so damn racist???

Know what???? We are happy reading this in one of our dailies.... " Que hijueputa eres.. cabron de mierda!!!"
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"HONG KONG—Now contrite, a Hong Kong writer who angered the Philippines with his article poking fun at the country, says he actually admires Philippine democracy and music and would like to someday visit the country he had derisively called a “nation of servants.”

He says among the places he would like to visit is “Fort McKinley,” a name that now seems to exist only in the dimming memories of old-timers, having been renamed Fort Bonifacio more than four decades ago."

Boycott Hong Kong's "Cheap Chow" errr... Chip Tsao

Chip Tsao is a Hong Kong-based columnist-broadcaster. On his article titled “The War at Home” which was published last March 27, 2009 in Hong Kong Magazine, he labelled Philippines “a nation of servants” . Asia City Publishing Group (ACPG), the publisher of the HK Magazine issued to the Filipino people an apology for any offense that might have been caused by Chip Tsao’s article. The article was removed after 3 days of publication in it’s on-line edition.

Below is his article. Please read and remember his name.. “Cheap Chow”…err Tsip Tsao.

The War At Home
March 27th, 2009

The Russians sank a Hong Kong freighter last month, killing the seven Chinese seamen on board. We can live with that—Lenin and Stalin were once the ideological mentors of all Chinese people. The Japanese planted a flag on Diàoyú Island. That’s no big problem—we Hong Kong Chinese love Japanese cartoons, Hello Kitty, and shopping in Shinjuku, let alone our round-the-clock obsession with karaoke.

But hold on—even the Filipinos? Manila has just claimed sovereignty over the scattered rocks in the South China Sea called the Spratly Islands, complete with a blatant threat from its congress to send gunboats to the South China Sea to defend the islands from China if necessary. This is beyond reproach. The reason: there are more than 130,000 Filipina maids working as $3,580-a-month cheap labor in Hong Kong. As a nation of servants, you don’t flex your muscles at your master, from whom you earn most of your bread and butter.

As a patriotic Chinese man, the news has made my blood boil. I summoned Louisa, my domestic assistant who holds a degree in international politics from the University of Manila, hung a map on the wall, and gave her a harsh lecture. I sternly warned her that if she wants her wages increased next year, she had better tell every one of her compatriots in Statue Square on Sunday that the entirety of the Spratly Islands belongs to China.

Grimly, I told her that if war breaks out between the Philippines and China, I would have to end her employment and send her straight home, because I would not risk the crime of treason for sponsoring an enemy of the state by paying her to wash my toilet and clean my windows 16 hours a day. With that money, she would pay taxes to her government, and they would fund a navy to invade our motherland and deeply hurt my feelings.

Oh yes. The government of the Philippines would certainly be wrong if they think we Chinese are prepared to swallow their insult and sit back and lose a Falkland Islands War in the Far East. They may have Barack Obama and the hawkish American military behind them, but we have a hostage in each of our homes in the Mid-Levels or higher. Some of my friends told me they have already declared a state of emergency at home. Their maids have been made to shout “China, Madam/Sir” loudly whenever they hear the word “Spratly.” They say the indoctrination is working as wonderfully as when we used to shout, “Long live Chairman Mao!” at the sight of a portrait of our Great Leader during the Cultural Revolution. I’m not sure if that’s going a bit too far, at least for the time being.

Hola! Hello! Mabuhay!

My apologies... I don't intend to make this site dormant.... After the hang-over over Spain's victory in EUFA, last week's visit to my parents, an out of town trip, beating tax deadlines, I have to pause for a while...

Now I'm back...

To start-off let me share this funny story sent by my colleague about baked beans. After reading, please control the gas...

Baked Beans

One day I met a sweet gentleman and fell in love. When it became apparent that we would marry, I made the supreme sacrifice and gave up eating beans.

Some months later, on my birthday, my car broke down on the way home from work. Since I lived in the countryside, I called my husband and told him that I would be late because I had to walk home. On my way, I passed by a small diner and the odour of baked beans was more than I could stand.

With miles to walk, I figured that I would walk off any ill effects by the time I reached home, so I stopped at the dinner and before . I knew it, I had consumed three large orders of baked beans. All the way home, I made sure that I released all the gas. Upon my arrival, my husband seemed excited to see me and exclaimed delightedly: 'Darling I have a surprise for dinner tonight.' He then blindfolded me and led me to my chair at the dinner table. I took a seat and just as he was about to remove my blindfold, the telephone rang. He made me promise not to touch the blindfold until he returned and went to answer the call.

The baked beans I had consumed were still affecting me and the pressure was becoming most unbearable, so while my husband was out of the room I seized the opportunity, shifted my weight to one leg and let one go. It was not only loud, but it smelled like a fertilizer truck running over a skunk in front of a pulpwood mill. I took my napkin from my lap and fanned the air around me vigorously. Then, shifting to the other cheek, I ripped off three more. The stink was worse than stinking cabbage. Keeping my ears carefully tuned to the conversation in the other room, I went on like this for another few minutes. The pleasure was indescribable. When eventually the telephone farewells signalled the end of my freedom, I quickly fanned the air a few more times with my napkin, placed it on my lap and folded my hands back on it feeling very relieved and pleased with myself. My face must have been the picture of innocence when my husband returned, apologizing for taking so long. He asked me if I had peeked through the blindfold, and I assured him I had not. At this point, he removed the blindfold, and twelve dinner guests seated around the table chorused: 'Happy Birthday!' I nearly died!

EUROCOPA 2008 LA CAMPEONA ESPAÑA LEVANTA LA COPA

Por fin, despues 44 anos, La Copa esta ya en Espana! VIVA ESPANA!

España campeones de europa de fútbol 2008

VIVA ESPANA!