exotic, adj.: strikingly strange 26 June 2007
Posted by bornonacusp in Dateline: Delhi, Muni-Muni.comments closed
I’ve never seen as much of the Philippines in the news here in Delhi as I have in the last two days.The last time the country was written about here was in the May mid-term elections. Before and after May 14, very very rarely, maybe only during disasters.
Come now two features in the same number of days, both related to festivals celebrating the sainthood of John the Baptist, and accompanied by large photographs: Yesterday, a throng of residents of the city of San Juan (St. John) in the capital, being collectively doused by water from a fire truck; and today, the parade of roast pigs in Balayan, a town south of Manila.
The coverage is insightful of what people — or at least those who run the news mill — find interesting in the lives of others. So now I know, that India finds it deserving of precious newspaper space that roast pigs dressed as ballerinas and bikers are paraded on the streets, and that shirtless kids, men, and women drench themselves to celebrate the baptism of Jesus Christ.
So what arouses interest? Perhaps a disconnect from what for us is commonplace. What is not like us, or not ours, then becomes exotic.
Trust is a wonderful word 25 June 2007
Posted by bornonacusp in Dateline: Delhi, Delhi life, Muni-Muni.comments closed
Many hours after getting home from the chemist you realise you still had some of that prescription left in the cupboard so you return the new bottle, cap unsealed, and they take it back; no questions asked, no receipts demanded for. You pick up some DVDs from the neighbourhood rental shop and don’t pay a single paisa (cent); you pay when you return them. Take your mini-DV around the corner to have your home movie digitised, you don’t shell out any deposit of whatever amount; pay when you come to claim your CDs.
For all their penchant for argument — hands gesticulating frantically in the air, mouths completely keeping up with the speed of their brains — Indians are actually quite a cool bunch.
For all their apparent cockiness (for their intelligence? for being born to one of the oldest civilisations of humanity?), they can be as trustful as a four-year-old.
Wherever I am in this country, I seem to find these signs, hints of a culture where trust for one another is a matter of default. Not that I’ve been around to so many places in this mind-boggling sub-continent of one billion people, 35 states and territories, 16 official languages, 160-different-spices-in-one-piece-of-kebab. But Delhi, Calcutta, Lucknow, and Agra have shown me enough anecdotes that illustrate the locals’ tendency to chill. (For that is surely the word for it, chill.)
The strangeness of India, to me, lies in its stark contrasts. Here I speak not of the oft-repeated divide between the haves and the have-nots — the India that is on its way to becoming a superpower and the other India where hundreds of millions of people live in hunger. Rather, I speak of the contrast between the loudness of voice and gentlessness of heart, the brashness of movement and the refinement of soul. The mad rush on the streets and the capacity to stay detached from worldliness and the mundane concerns of the material world.
Can I imagine such in Manila, returning a bottle of prescription to a drugstore and getting my money back? Maybe if I had my lawyer in tow. Or receiving a service without paying upfront? I don’t think so.
Of course, it was in the capital Manila where I lived. And I will be happiest to be corrected by those who are not in Manila, where things may be different, where people trust more easily. Baguio locals, for example, are prone to replay a favourite story about how cab drivers in their city up north will give you change down to the last centavo, in contrast to their Manila counterparts who look at you with contempt if you dare ask for what is yours. And I myself have witnessed life in places like Bukidnon down south, for instance where, in jeepneys, you pay as you get off — and not as soon as you get on, as is wont in Manila’s ‘magbayad nang maaga’ (pay your fare immediately!) protocol, as the driver is paranoid that his passengers will run off.
You might say then that Manila life is more frantic and thus some other place like agricultural Bukidnon can afford to be less rigid in its rules. But that’s the puzzle. Delhi is just as busy and mad as Manila. If there’s a city where the rat race is surging ahead as if life is all about careers and making it big, this may be it. Why is it then that here, trust is elemental?
An aural treat to Filipino poetry 25 June 2007
Posted by bornonacusp in Poetry.comments closed
i Report Online, award-winning publication of the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism, is featuring a series of podcasts of poetry reading in the vernacular. Listen to the podcasts and be reminded that Filipino poetry is alive and well.Tagalog: Wari (I think)
Ilokano: Oda iti pinakbet (Ode to pinakbet)
Sugbuanon: Alang sa Ninglangyaw, Gikan sa Naghuwat (For the one who left, from the one left behind)
Saying goodbye without actually saying it 23 June 2007
Posted by bornonacusp in Delhi life, Muni-Muni.comments closed
Bengalis do not like uttering goodbye. Rather than saying jachchi (I’m leaving), they say, aash chi (I’m coming.) That is, I’m coming back.So whether he is going out for five minutes to buy kulfi (ice cream) from the roadside vendor a stone’s throw away, or flying over two oceans to work someplace for three years, the parting words would still be, I’m coming.
As in all other peculiarities of Bengali, there is no need to ask why. There is only understanding that, alright, leaving is not what is to be dwelled on but the coming home.
Isn’t language just amazing. Any language, not just Bengali or Hindi. Language is not just words and spellings, accents and pronunciations. It is meaning. And meanings are always relative.
For the same reasons that language is interesting, it can be quite intimidating, especially to those attempting to learn a foreign one.
If one is to learn an Indian language, for instance, then the person will have to make sure that her sense of humour is intact. The more self-deprecating she can be, the better. Because then if in the beginning she could not get it right, her Ek, Do, Teen sounding nothing like One, Two, Three or Aap kaise hai? far from How are you? … then that will not make her sulk and give up. She will snicker at her own mistakes — with her tutor — and plod on, reminding herself that this is important, learning Hindi. Otherwise, how can she order for her Ek Tandoori Chicken or Paach Naan?
And maybe then soon be able to do much more than talk of food and tell our dogs, Bosho (Sit) or Cholo! (Let’s go!)
‘Take not the road less traveled’ 21 June 2007
Posted by bornonacusp in Uncategorized.comments closed
Making the rounds of the e-mail circuit in Manila is the speech delivered in April by Mikaela Irene Fudolig, Batch 2007 valedictorian of the University of the Philippines in Diliman. Miki, 16 years old, finished her degree in BS Applied Physics with summa cum laude honours.She exhorts her fellow graduates:
“Take NOT the road less traveled. Rather, MAKE new roads, BLAZE new trails, FIND new routes to your dreams. Unlike the track-beaters in campus who see where they’re going, we may not know how far we can go. But if we are brave, defiant searchers of excellence, we will go far.”
You may listen to Mikaela Irene’s speech through UP’s podcast channel. (Click here)
And this is the full text:
Take not the road less traveled
One of the things that strike me as being very “UP Diliman” is the way UPD students can’t seem to stay on the pavement. From every street corner that bounds an unpaved piece of land, one will espy a narrow trail that cuts the corner, or leads from it. Every lawn around the buildings sports at least one of these paths, starting from a point nearest to the IKOT stop and ending at the nearest entry to the building. The trails are beaten on the grass by many pairs of feet wanting to save a fraction of a meter of traveling, no matter that doing so will exact some cost to the shoes, or, to the ubiquitous slippers, especially when the trails are new.
What do these paths say about us, UP students?
Let’s talk about the weather 18 June 2007
Posted by bornonacusp in Dateline: Delhi, Delhi life.comments closed
You know when people say “talking about the weather,” and they mean it’s small talk, a polite but trivial conversation to while away time with?
Well, here, the topic of weather is no small talk. Delhi weather is stuff for the front pages of newspapers. (Not that newspapers are always correct about which concerns matter most — often they can devote huge amounts of column inches to the trivial — but that’s another blog altogether.)
After the torrid heat two weeks back, the temperatures gradually went down, hovering above levels that were indeed pleasant. In the last two nights it has been raining, and, apparently, yesterday was the “coolest June 17″ in Delhi’s history in the last five years. According to meteorological officials, Sunday night’s downpour brought down the maximum temperature in the city to 32.6 degrees Celsius, or seven degrees below normal. Now that really is good news after the mercury shot up to 45 during the heat wave.
It is predicted that more rainfall will come in the coming few days. This, however, is still not in preparation for the monsoon season which usually begins around the end of June; weather experts have yet to come up with that approximation. Which takes me to a corollary topic in today’s news — that of Delhi’s capacity for weather prediction. Times of India calls it “slow off the block.” Now officials want the city to be able to install what they call a “nowcasting system” which will allow for a six-hour city-specific prediction. The system is expected to be piloted in time for the Commonwealth Games to be hosted by Delhi in 2010.
But back to the present, Delhi being Delhi (meaning mostly strange), I have been told that the weather will likely be erratic in the coming weeks. Rains, dry heat, humid heat, cool, cold, warm, oppressive heat. It’s a whole range. And all of it can come in a single day.
Ocean’s 13 is not Ocean’s 11 16 June 2007
Posted by bornonacusp in Dateline: Delhi, For Film Buffs, The Arts.comments closed
But of course. Moreso the second sequel: I remember Ocean’s 12 to have been such a disappointment, a sequel like most sequels which make you loathe the producers for attempting to replicate the impact of the original, but then end up ruining your entire experience. It was trashy, and the only reason why I could not walk out from the theatre that day over two years back was — or the reasons, were — George, Andy, Matt, Don, and Brad. Otherwise that movie was, simply, forgettable.
Yet there I was last night, watching the third installment in Hollywood’s hit heist film series, Ocean’s 13. Apparently the second one didn’t burn me that bad. And no regrets; it was a good ride.
Ocean’s 13 works because it’s fun. Without fail, the leads once again exhibit a chemistry that makes their ties believable, their scenes seamless. The film is well-edited, its basic feel that of a rough, un-sleek, no-gloss finish. I enjoyed the sassy repartee. And I did not at all find the running gags from Ocean’s 11 tiring — like the Chinese guy speaking only Mandarin but not finding it hard to communicate with everyone else, or that Pitt’s Rusty is always munching on some food, his lips and hands greasy. Clooney is cool, Pitt is hot, Cheadle is brilliant.
Sure, the script is pockmarked with holes, you could see through. And many times I wanted to wail — in my native tongue for sheer frustration — ‘Naman! Talaga?! (‘Come on, get real!’) Danny Ocean and his pack are either extremely lucky or utter geniuses that everything works for them. Overall, it is one of those movies which work mostly because of the pull of the cast; give the same material to a set of less talented, or less magnetic actors, then it just won’t work. But we don’t like that in movies, do we? We want movies to stand on their own, for the quality of the material itself as much as its execution, and not for the players’ superstardom.
But I forgive Ocean’s 13 for all of that. I forgive Clooney and Damon and Pitt for having so much fun making this movie with their buddies that they forgot most everything else. After all, I did not go to the theatre to be enlightened, nor to mull the complexities of life.
I went to see Ocean’s 13 properly armed with tricks best employed to enjoy its sort of movie: Forget logic, forget plausibility, suspend your disbelief and be entertained. You can whine about all the movie’s faults after watching it and having a laugh.
June 12, 1898 12 June 2007
Posted by bornonacusp in Uncategorized.add a comment
To mark the day a hundred and nine years ago when “the inhabitants of all these Philippine Islands” proclaimed that they are “released from all obedience to the crown of Spain”, I post here a link to the blog of Von Totanes, a professional librarian and passionate student of Philippine history and all things Filipiniana.
In this blog, Von shows a facsimile of the first page of the Declaration of Independence, in the original handwritten Spanish. Two translations of the text are then provided.
Click here for Von’s blog on the Declaration. Read the passionate pleadings of the leaders of a nation in revolt.
Then be reminded of the umbilical cord that connects the Philippines to America. In closing, the Declaration describes the Philippine flag and ends by explaining the colors blue, red, and white: “(commemorating) those of the flag of the United States of North America, in manifestation of our profound gratitude towards that Great Nation for the disinterested protection she is extending to us and will continue to extend to us.”
Bollywood, water, waste 12 June 2007
Posted by bornonacusp in Dateline: Delhi.add a comment
Ever seen those movies with scenes showing a couple gyrating in the rains? The intent is to show romance; the pouring rains, in itself, becomes the erotic tool. I’ve probably seen a few back in Manila. Apparently, in this part of the world, filmmakers are crazy over such display of amorous, rains-backdropped drama that it is almost a staple. Viewers are pleased, and moreso, the producers.
But here’s the thing. Observers are now saying Bollywood’s addiction for rain scenes is so politically incorrect at a time when India faces a strain in its water resources. Why? Simply because these scenes are not shot with real rains in the monsoon season. Rather, producers use huge amounts of tankers of water to get the desired effect, and the wastage is unbelievable.
An art director interviewed by the Times of India says a single rain sequence uses enough water to fulfill the requirements of 30 families for four weeks. And, since actors fear developing rashes, only water of high purity is used for shooting.
Are the filmmakers feeling the pressure amid the criticism? Maybe not. Those interviewed by Times had various ways of defending themselves. One of them says, for example, that he would be guilty of a crime only if he were to shoot rain sequences in Rajasthan. (An agricultural state where it is hardly shocking news to hear of a farmer killing himself in desperation amid a long drought that leaves him without any money to buy food for his family.) Is he being a smart-aleck? Another filmmaker could not see the point of discussing the extravagance of Indian cinema, when, he says, cultural activities like weddings waste resources too.
Yet others insist Bollywood must begin to rethink its techniques, if not its morals. The Times author notes how Hollywood movies — with scenes supposedly shot with loads of water — can manage to use little of it and make up for the gap with special effects. Surely Bollywood can do that too? After all, environment watchdogs are giving a warning that by 2020, India will be among the “highly stressed” countries in terms of water resources. There just won’t be enough water.
Bollywood is so big — its actors revered like gods — that it can create a positive impact if it chooses to.
Cheers to bitter beginnings 9 June 2007
Posted by bornonacusp in Delhi life, Domesticity, Food trip.add a comment
Bitter is the word for the start of a typical Indian meal (especially for Bengalis).
In our home, a favourite is the very simple fried bitter gourd (ampalaya to us Filipinos): sliced very thinly and deep-fried to a nice crisp in sunflower oil. It’s an appetizer that goes well with rice and dahl and another dish, vegetable or meat-based perhaps. It’s very tasty and will surely awaken your appetite.
Not that I’m new to bitter gourd; while it is easy to hate this vegetable for its sheer bitterness, I’m not one of those who do. And I’ve always liked my mother’s recipe of sauteed ampalaya with beef strips in oyster sauce. But ampalaya-as-appetizer is something new for me, and again is a nice surprise, as in many other dishes I’m discovering here every day.
Apparently, too, starting one’s meal with something bitter helps to normalise the body’s digestive process. Seeing FrenchBeard, it makes complete sense. Unlike me (and many others of my family and friends back in the Philippines), he has a digestive system that works quite perfectly well. No complaints, and everything is like clockwork.
Then again it may not be just the bitter gourd. Indians do get a lot of good bacteria in their diet including those you get from yoghurt and soy. Those, too, aid in digestion. See they do generally eat smart and have a lot to teach compulsive, mostly unhealthy eaters such as myself. But no guilt here; no way am I giving up my coffee. Just learning a few new tricks to healthier (and still fun) dining.
.svg){kind=link}