have i shared my food choices in Singapore?

apespecials (can be fun too!)

- mango crazy http://www.makansutra.com/eateries.html

- mango pudding (just go to the chendol/dessert stall) http://www.wismaonline.com/stores_sub1.aspx?lvl=4

- kebab (this is the resto not the stall but ok the same kebab) http://www.shirazfnb.com/index.html)

- snacks (i know... but its still apes' choice) http://www.oldchangkee.com/

- pies/tarts (or however you call it) http://www.fancydelight.com.sg/products.html

- blujazcafe + haji lane



for meals (dining variety)

- chicken rice in the world (the best part is the ginger purée with the dark soya sauce!) http://www.hungrygowhere.com/singapore/wee_nam_kee_hainanese_chicken_rice_restaurant/

- indian

1. Rangoli (my first taste of Indian food after 28 years of living - need i say more?!)

http://singaporenet.blogspot.com/2009/03/rangooli-northern-indian-cuisine-pasir.html


2. Lagnaa (good service, nice food which comes with "spicy scale")

http://www.lagnaa.com/


- italian

for nice food, reasonable fare, casual setting (excuse the sound of the cars and buses though...) http://www.hungrygowhere.com/singapore/donna_carmela/

fine dining http://www.garibaldigroup.com.sg/


more to come...

spielberg effect

if an artist's work is shared (as he opted to) and results to a deluge spielberg effect, who is it to blame? is it the artist, the mob or the media?or perhaps we should go back and rethink our definitions of art, art appreciation and promotion? is art to be shared, shared-targeted, all or none of the above?

i remember a friend once telling me "all art has been contemporary". i interpreted it as "individuals having to always struggle at the beginning to be noticed or for their work to be appreciated." but what about the other side of the coin?

i am often amased at how popular culture is viewed in a sort of contempt - as i myself is guilty of. what is wrong if works are hugely embraced and i don't? i ask myself...

A Discourse on Myself...

I may not be perfect but I can love. I can care with all my heart.

I can be stubborn sometimes but I know how to obey. Humble myself is not that hard.

I may be a dreamer but I can start from the low. From there I can get the stars I dream for.

I may be a critic but I know how to listen. And accept mistakes and shortcomings.

I may long for freedom but the responsibility I know. Limitations are always there.

I can smile and laugh, find the simple joys of life, but I know how to cry too.

I may be hard and composed outside but I also feel pain, pains that crush my heart.

I can be silent. But I know how to shout, how to sing, sing what’s inside, shout what’s on my mind!

I maybe a singer, a poet, a writer, a day dreamer or a philosopher, but for sure I will always be the simple me.



* * * * * * * circa 1999-2000 * * * * * * *

a north in the compass...

How can we manage to maintain so beautifull memories in our lives forever? As every time we talk about Turin... my blood warms... or something happen... as I immediately get drunk and start to dream, to feel good, to have "saudade". I am afraid that these memories just became "memories" as ordinary ones... cause these beutifull feelings are still moving me and they are like little deep hermetic secret treasures that only sometimes I open and makes me air to breath in this ordinary life. I hope it will be forever as you say.

Thanks, I always loved you moved by my words... as we would have the same code. Thanks... I also need sometimes to enter to our secret sacred space to feel alive.... Thanks to share this with me.

"Happiness is a time, a place." I lately succeed, I am ok, but of course every time I remember Turin, like now, I felt that that was a real happiness you know... as a model... a "north" in the compass.


- turtle habibi reminiscin' 09

memories and amnesia...

"memories are alive"... funny but this phrase just popped up again after well - 4 years and i am transported back to Turin times, again as i remember a famous line from gora.

back to the present... its one of the striking lines from a movie last Wednesday called Waltz with Bashir. the last i think of the Animation Nation 2009 (a pity!). the movie was ironic, heartbreaking and artistically done. the rock soundtrack is fantastic, funny in a dark way, as you see the brutality and stupidity of the raids and air strikes.

and then there were these other images -

looking at violence and war through "a lens" because there is no other way to look, participate and experience it without being broken, torn apart. the metaphor is as much interesting as is the symbolical meaning it connotes - that this lens is a kind of an adoptive mechanism of the subconscious. perhaps this has been studied many times in the psychological field. (i don't know... i should read about it)

firing a gun in a state of trance...

5 or 6 people shooting like mad on a car...

hearing rock and roll music onboard a battle tank and just suddenly seeing the head of your buddy knocked down (and later realising its bullet from somewhere, anywhere)...

was i surprised to meet a friend of a friend who actually revels in being a “rock star” when welcomed to new places?! that kind of attention, of people prying on you. such curiosity that is weighed down by the color of the skin, eyes, hair, one’s might, height or anything strikingly uncharacteristic of the locals. and for sure, many of my “white” friends complain that people always suspect of their purse’ rosy, fatsy status.

certainly, i never enjoyed such. going to some place unknown makes me free (or gives me such an illusion). it’s a break, a getaway, a solace... not just from the hassles of the city but even perhaps from the trappings of my own self... in an alien place, i’m kind of reborn - entering a kind of tabula rasa state. bliss, yes! and then all images come clearer - hues, sound and scent more vivid.

i love the feeling of walking in the sidewalks knowing that nobody will ever call your name, to be lost in a market scene, to get lost in bus or train rides and not be bothered by the time clicking. most of all, to be met by random smiles, raw kindness from completely alien people as you are.

So why do you travel?

Quest-ce que c`est l`amour?

Love is science, love is white magic, love is balladry, love is doggerel, love is doo-wop-wop-wop, love is a myth, love is ambiguity, love is the letter of the law, love is food, love is sophistry, love is subject predicate and object, love is the gulf of the incommunicable, love is a physical sensation, love is a social utopia, love is revolution, love is servitude, love is a marketing tool, love is torture, love is a colour, love is silence, love is white noise, love is the part of someone that doesn`t exist but that you can see, love is salvation, love is a trick of the light, love is hydraulics, love is the celestial abode, love is pretending, love is sickness, love is medicine, love is an armistice between warriors, love is a word I wish I`d once not used, love is like riding a bicycle and love is art. Did I leave out anything? - J.B., 30 may 2007

flying around a cathedral

it's been a while since i had a very coherent dream. many of the past ones are just images or scenes that flash in no particular flow or rationale. and then a few days ago there was the flying classroom!

we were touring an old cathedral - huge one. it was an upside down classroom with tables and chairs and students. there was someone blaberring about a "stained glass window art" - explaining what it was. at the side of my eyes, i see many of such and the plan was to fly the students to each of them.

when the flying classroom geared towards the next stained glass, something fell in the water! and those were mine! i shouted "stop" to the flying classroom (there was no captain or whatsoever but it stopped) and then i picked up the two little notebooks i have in the water (i couldnt place which part of the cathedral the fountain was located and actually before the notebooks fell, it was not part of the vision of the place).

and then when i was coming back to my place, i saw someone occupying my seat (he was a classmate from my old school in the province). strange since i remember he was always sitting on that spot. where could have i been all along since the journey to the cathedral started?

a lesson in humility...

it was one of those days when i thought i was all set. i packed my bags way ahead and arrived at the airport 2 hours before the scheduled flight. but then voila!

i was limping my way to the travel tax payment counter since i had a minor surgery on the left foot. when the officer looked at my passport, he told me that i need a piece of paper instead from POEA and that i need not pay the travel tax. in turn, i said that i was willing to pay the price just so that i can go since i have that disability at the moment (he told me to go to the POEA desk who then told me that I should go another office... etc).

oh my was i panicky! i was pissed. i was worried! i was thinking of the long queu while i crawl my way to that payment window. i told the guy, what if i miss my flight and then a long series of questions and buts, you have to, you need to, you should know... etc. (i even took a picture of the counter as i planned actually to report it.) in the end, i was exasperated of arguing and i just called the driver to come back so that i could go to that "Office."

just when i was there sitting and looking worried and tired, the guy told me that he will try to call his supervisor and ask about my case. i overheard him say "... yes she has bandage on her foot..." finally, after almost 30 minutes (the driver has arrived), the Officer told me that his boss agreed and that they made an exemption because of my injury.

he reminded me again that i should go and get this POEA permit or certification since I am now officially an overseas filipino worker (OFW) and no longer a student. whew!

i was thinking if i approached it differently would my request have been granted quickly? maybe, i was too pushy or proud since i have never traveled with such hassles. i got used to diplomatic or official status - having to carry a special passport and letter from the higher-ups by-passing any other questions, etc.

hhhhhmmm... i really should get used to answering immigration questions and POEA rules and i should go to the Philippine Embassy in Singapore ASAP!

ode to my family...

home is where the heart is... as the saying goes...

thinking about it, I now realize i have several homes. it s possible, yes. and i myself is stunned by this realization. i have home in the tropical islands, in the little red dot, in the north americas and now i even have my heart in The Queen's land.

my home... - with them i dont have to speak, just be there and still know that im loved and accepted. my mom never stops worrying about me, my sister looks after me, father watches over in another sphere and my brother, its a love and hate relationship (my quirkiness i guess) ...

how i'd describe my family? quite modern yet still conservative (reason why we rarely discuss really personal details about ourselves, unless necessary and called for). now, i am learning to be more vocal, more open...

we were raised to work hard and be self-sufficient. and so the basic principle is "do your thing, but be sure to take responsibility." there are good and bad sides to this principle but whatever comes, we stand close to each other. this is true that is why it is home.

home also means - location and time is immaterial. for years now, i have been living in different cities, flats - moving about, meeting new people, new friends, new acquaintances. it's nice and it makes one realize how friendships, relationships cross geographical, cultural boundaries. but at the end of the day, and after all the wheels and drive of these encounters start to fade away... home is where you find solace, comfort like curling up in the sheets as you sleep.

Culture 101

coming from the pantry after pouring my cup with water, i was surprised to see a piece of paper on my desk. hhhhmmm... i saw the word Culture on top and so I approached Katelijn to know what it was all about. she smiled and said no its your neighbor...

walked back to my desk and a little while later i asked Ana, is this survey yours and i asked if she is doing a paper or something (she is really into research and stuff)? she said, no, its just for your own.

and so one by one i answered the questions and well, it was an interesting exercise. the curious thing is when i compared answers with Edwige and Katelijn, somehow there are similarities. ok differences, that is normal. but its amazing actually when we try to figure out why we answered differently. it's because a few times, we understood the question in a different sense.

Ah, a lesson in culture. can it be learned? define culture...

muse/s for the day

shadows horizon
by Illac Diaz
Raza, February 2009


jelly fishes clinging to the leaves or stars turned white descended?
by Najwa Fathimath
Beijing, February 2009


yellow flowers-foggy building
by Patrick Kassmann
Macau, February 2009


affection
by JoeSardz
Antipolo City, undated



Yes these works of art are not mine, but hey, I named these photos according to how they inspired me ;-) it's amazing how works of art can stir some emotions/inspiration. a welcome break from work indeed.

NO TIME

i had a nice dinner on Sunday at BBQ pit #3 courtesy of a vivacious, funny, sweet Lebanese friend. and oh she has a sister who is even sexier (yes she is, sorry dear friend :-), i just find artists really with their creative imagination and different way of looking at things.

what a pleasant surprise then that the toilet break we had became a little screening: NO TIME.

"when we sleep we escape, we escape from time. when we take a still photo we freeze
time. when we orgasm time stops. time runs very fast and the only way to freeze it is
by sleep, cameras and orgasm."

- Carine Koleilat

flashes, sporadic thinking...

having to share the burden of strategic planning and thinking/rethinking of people concerns, i had a lot of headache for the last 48 hours or so. its daunting, it is...

then i remember motivation and rewards, groupthink, communication and organizational change lectures. oh i wish you were here Jak to help us figure out these things. or perhaps the bough tie man has the same thinking just bounded by other things...

--------

just a moment ago, going through some papers (pseudo clutter) at beaverloft, i found a piece of paper saying:

"Presumably the change agent is motivated by a desire to help other people. But, why does he want to help them? Is he genuinely interested in their welfare? Or - and this is sometimes the case - does he enjoy giving help solely because it inspires feelings of power, assurance, or self-righteousness in him? Usually of course, motivation is complex and involves both altruism and self-interest. This is not bad in itself. The danger comes at the point where the change agent is so busy creating a situation which will satisfy his own needs that he is unable to respond to the needs of the client system. When this happens, his help may actually be a hindrance."

- G. Lippitt

change that we need?

let me outrightly say that i was moved by the "Obama story," well as of today at least. I've watched a number of videos, speeches; read a few articles and interviews, etc; and well, i waited for his Inauguration speech and got a headache the following morning. In short, I love the President's Persona and the ideals he stand for (at least the soundbytes that I have got).

I was moved by his speech reading it again this morning when I took a few minutes break from working. I would say that I am one of those rooting for him, for his O' Administration and for the renewed America that he proposes. Hopefully with his team of astute technocrats and the support of America's bureaucrats, he'd be able to turn around the America that we admire and prove once again the values it stand for works, in Obama's words -- honesty and hard work, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty.

And these same values are held true by many peoples and nations around the world, that is why perhaps, at least half of the world's population is watching the other day...



Obama's Inauguration Speech
http://www.dailykos.com/storyonly/2009/1/20/1261/02980/1004/686506


Obama's inauguration poem by Elizabeth Alexander
http://poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/20545?gclid=CPGV2sPro5gCFc8vpAodAnGmnA