A beach trip off the beaten track - Matnog, Sorsogon

Sorry for the overprocessing, I overexposed the shot.

There are some islands in Brgy. Calintaan, Matnog, Sorsogon Philippines that have always cropped up in conversations between my cousins and I about the best spots to go to that’s near my hometown. I have, with a flurry, explored the many great spots that litter the area around my beloved Gubat, Sorsogon. In a much, much longer post, I will tell you the tale of how, in about two years, I’ve gone to so many amazing places that, at most, are two hours removed from my ancestral home.

But for now let’s stick to what locals call, Subic Saday or Small Subic, which is in my opinion erroneously named because I think people in Matnog don’t know HOW MUCH better their beaches are than those in Subic, Pampanga.

To get there, you have to first travel to Matnog port, which is easily found by riding a Sorsogon-bound bus in Manila or taking a plane to Legazpi City and traveling by bus or public transportation (read: jeepney) first to Sorsogon then another jeepney ride to Matnog.

When you get to the port central, you’d imagine that you’d have to work through the hagglers usually seen in more well-known spots as Puerto Galera (Sir, pa-White Beach po? Sir may bangka na po kayo? Sir, dito po, paalis na, Tawaraw beach) or Cebu. Well, to some extent you get that, with people buzzing around obvious tourist jeeps and cars asking those same questions, but without the aggressive beat-you-to-submission sales shove. More like a gentle inquiry that stops once word gets out that you have arranged for boat services. People are so helpful here, with the boatmen we hired going the extra mile and accompanying us at the beach, even cooking the fresh fish we bought at the port for us!  To help you out, here’s a useful website full of tips and travel info on Matnog.

A few things I'd like to say to Facebook users

Facebook lets us do a lot of things. A ton, really. But here are a few things I think everyone with a modicum of self-respect should bear in mind.

1. DO NOT like AND THEN and comment on your own post.
Please. Seriously. Really. Come on, it's pathetic. Let your friends react to what you post first so you don't come off as a friendless loser who just wants attention, liking and commenting to get your post noticed on the notification board. (And really, it doesn't even work. D'oh!)

2. DO put your own picture up on your page.
Your friends know just how f*cked up you look. They don't care. An anime character may be cute for someone in their teens, but at 26, man, get your mug up there. And please, don't even think of putting up a celeb picture up there, it's just...funny. No. Depressing. No. funny. Nah, really, depressing. Especially if you look nothing like him or her, even after a rake plows through your face.

3. DO NOT start or share your fights on your wall.
So you love her or hate her with a fervor that brings the Crusaders to shame. But don't you think lovers quarrels and petty catfights are too personal to share to the world? I mean, a lot of times, your grammar's wrong, your insults are weak and you whine like a wounded mofo. Would you like people to see that?

4. DO add friends that are, well, really friends.
Seriously. Add people who really know you and you would like to be in contact with. Don't fall into the fame-by-association trap. If you don't know a person, then the whole gamut of services Facebook offers is rendered senseless.

5. DO NOT tag people in your selling posts who have previously untagged themselves.
Sure, electronic commerce is cool. You can make a lot of money without even leaving your house. But if someone already untagged him or herself from a post you put up before, don't tag them in the next one just like it anymore. It. Is. Annoying.

6. DO choose your goddamn pictures.
You have a digital camera or a camera phone. Good. For heaven's sake, don't upload all the shots you take, weed out the out-of-focus ones. Or the ones with half a face or are incorrectly lighted. Or the pictures of your back pocket or the inside of your purse you accidentally took. The user content driven age we live in should seriously have some guidelines. Like a manual or something.

7. DO NOT stalk people.
If you have a crush on someone, man up and talk to her man. It's just pitiful to see all of the posts on someone's wall with one person trying to be cute and liking and commenting on every little thing there. Message her. Don't stalk her. You have a better chance just talking to her, than frightening her with all your (what you think are) cutesy little comments. Fudge.

8. DO friggin' spell and grammar check.
See those red squiggly lines below what you're typing? THEY'RE THERE TO TELL YOU THAT THERE'S AN ERROR IN YOUR SPELLING. Man. What? Avoid shaming yourself please. Worst case scenario: a pretend Grammar Nazi who should swallow his or her own pill.

9. DO NOT update us with everything you're doing.
So you're eating. Sleeping. Defecating. Watching. Picking your nose. Breathing. Existing. So effing what.  

10. DO log off.
Try talking to your friends or making new ones in real life. It's sooooo much more fun.

Got anymore ideas? Feel free to add your own.

Let's Talk Pinoy Streetfood

I lived in a paradox of sorts when I spent my formative years (seven years of grade school, three of high school) in San Beda College from 7AM-3PM and Sta. Cruz, Manila the other odd hours. The weird thing, which I will most probably expound on in a different piece, was that I went to school that charged 20,000 pesos a year while my friends took five pesos to school with them for their daily sustenance. That meant that after school, around the sons of lawyers, businessmen and other affluent families, I went home to a street where my friends and I brought out any leftover lunch; read: Black, burnt rice at the bottom of the pan and half a piece of salted fish, for a communal dinner capped by an eight-peso 800ml bottle of local cola.


So, in San Beda, I learned just how the good life tasted -- though those rich kids NEVER acted like the snotty air-headed morphlings of today's pricey schools -- and in Vision Street, Sta. Cruz a couple of blocks away from the then San Lazaro horse racetrack (yes, I knew that place before it had air-conditioned department stores and Starbucks) showed me how the good life... is over-rated.


Okay, okay...

I know you like your hors d' oeuvres and your bite-sized pieces of pastries and cured meats, hell, I know what you're talking about when you say amous bouche and pancetta, but do you know the simple...rustic...so-bad-for-you-it's-damn-good delight of monosodium glutamate showered dirty oil deep-fried cow fat? Sebo, my dear cabron. Street food, for the average, subdivision-bred insolent means rubbery calamares or the classic 50 centavo fishball now relegated to second-stringer status due to rise of pretentious chicken balls. Some people recall banana-que and kamote-que. I even hear stories of "south" (Parañaque ain't no St. Luis or ATL mah boys... the real south is Cebu) grown girls in elitist schools who have not tasted balut. Seriouly, I understand the paranoia surrounding the gloriously germ infested fishball, but an egg is a perfectly clean life-support system designed by nature to protect the continuance of a species-- the point is, it won't make you sick and it's such a sin to carry a Filipino passport and not know how it tastes like. Dang.

Living in a street filled with horse-racing fanatics, a dash of addicts, a sprinkling of street ballers and computer addicts, my life at home was classically urban Pinoy. Fishball vendors were friends I even drank with one after they sold out the day's wares, always saving a fourth of a pack of fishballs and three one-day-old ducks for our pulutan. When I was a kid the most famous lady in the community was the Yakult vendor followed closely by the Magnolia Chocolait-in-a-bottle milkmaid.

I know street food. My circle of friends are street food connoisseurs.


Though some lament that our street food scene is not as eclectic and streamlined as, say, Hong Kong or Singapore, two Asian foodie havens whose cuisine is pushed forward and made famous by hawker stalls, I still think our street food scene deserves a more detailed look. And no, we are not going to talk about fads like buko shake or those crappy fried siomai, let's talk about the staples, the foodstuff of recently old, progressing from the suman, belekoy and panutsa - sugar, coconut and glutinous rice dominated delicacies, moving toward quick, filling and easy on the wallet fare purpose built for the hardworking Filipino. Many of these items can have different names, depending on the location, which is just another little quirk I love about Filipino street food.

Dyip ni Juan

Merong mga bagay na ‘di ko maintindihan, tulad bakit “Para” and sinasabi sa dyip, e salita nama’y wala namang pinaggalingan. O bakit mga dyipni drayber eh halos lahat may kiling pa-kanan, para ba madaling makahipo sa tsiks na maganda, o sanayan lang?

Pero, nasa dyip na rin naman tayo, ‘di ba ang byaheng ito’y napaka-Pinoy? Sapo bawat alikabok, usok at ingay ng maalingasaw na kamaynilaan…

Dama bawat hapo ng puro trabahong magdamag, amoy putok, baktol at anghit ng mga taong pawis na pawis sa trabahong tanging mahahatid sa hapag kainan eh itlog na pula, kamatis at tuyo, ‘di alintana na bawat hapagkainan, mapa-tanghalian o hapunan…nakahain eh pang-almusal (tuyo, sardinas, itlog, itlog na pula) pa rin lamang.

May makikita kang natutulog, halatang dalawa ang trabaho. Umiindayog ang ulo, sabay sa bawat arangkada’t preno ng Japan-surplus na makina. May nagdarasal ng rosaryo (umoonti na sila, oo), pikit mata’t kibit balikat na nananalangin na sana’y maayos ang anak o asaw nila sa Saudi (o Dubai, Hong Kong, Vietnam, Korea, TNT sa Amerika, Canada at Britanya). Nanginging ang labi, nagpupumiglas ang mga salita ng bawat Ama Namin o Aba Ginoong Maria, tapos, mai-istorbo ng lasing na katabi, ngunguyain namang salita’y mga mura’t parinig. Hahaha.

‘Yung lasing, lima ang anak, isang taon ang agwat ng mga gulang, pahinante sa pier at 200 lang ang kita sa araw. Sa lumo at salimuot, pipiliing i-ambag na lamang ang singkwenta ng kita sa isang araw para sa Gin, kalamansi. Pulutan? Sipol at hinagpis. May estudyanteng naka-uniporme nga, sa mall naman ang punta, makikipag-deyt ‘ata kay Bheybs. Buhok na kala mo adik ‘yung gumupit, ‘di pantay pantay ang tabas, kala mo’y dinilaan ng kalabaw sa lagkit at tigas. At ang uniporme: and bantayog ng hustisya at pagkakapantay-pantay sa eskwela. Kaya nagu-uniporme and kabataan eh para hindi malaman ang estado mo sa buhay, para hindi ka maiba sa mas may kaya mong kaeskwela. Pero si boy, may kulay itim na pangloob, may nakatatak pang Sex Pistols eh baka nga hindi pa nagkakakilala mga magulang n’ya nuong sikat ang bandang ‘yon. Mga itim na purselas na puro bungo, may swastika pa, kilala n’ya kaya si Hitler? Sapatos na Converse, 300 sa Cartimar, tatlong buwang pinag-ipunan, dalawang buwang gamitan.

Byahe sa dyip. Ma-alog, masikip, mainit. Huntahan ng magkaklase’y dinig na dinig. Nanliligaw ka’y inday, ‘di magkaumayaw sa kate-teks.

Siyete singkwenta lang, may tatlumpung minuto ka nang teleserye. May magkasintahan naga-away. May batang pinapagalitan na “Huwag mong ilabas ang kama’y mo’t baka maputol ‘yan!”. May Biglang sasampang nagbebenta ng kendi at Stork, saba’y kanta o hirit ala Mike Enriquez.

Pero ‘di naman laging bad trip mga ma-uulanigan mo sa dyip. Minsan, may nakakatuwa rin at nakakaganang tagpo na sisiguraduhing nakangiti ka ‘pag sabi no ng “Para”. May drayber na panay ang sulyap sa salamin n’ya, dahil duon, nakadikit ang litrato ng asawa’t anak n’ya. Alam mong daig ng ngiti ng maybahay at ni dyunyor ang tindi ng Cobra, Extra Joss o Lipovitan. Puting puti ang Good Morning towel na nakasampay sa balikat n’ya. Kahit manipis at luma na, dahil sa alaga ni kumander e pwede pa.

May estudyante’ng subsob sa kababasa ng Nursing Fundamentals, hindi para lumipad tungong Europa, pero para magmedisina at ma-assign sa Marinduque. May binata’ng naka-iPod, padala ni Papa, pinapanuod ang daily Podcast: bidyo ng bati’t paalala ng ama galing Singapore. May batang sobrang bibo at talino, matanong sa inang hindi na magka-umayaw sa pagsagot sa makulit na anak, pero tuwang tuwa dahil alam n’ya, kandong kandong n’ya ang pagasa ng bansa. May tindero ng taho na tapos na ang araw, uuwi na, ang pera’y hiwa-hiwalay na: 100 para kay misis, pambili ng hapunan. 30 para sa panganay, baon kinabukasan. 20 kay bunso, na top one sa klase n’ya sa elemntarya. at kinse pambili ng pansit, para salubong ng mga bata’y puno ng ngiti at sabik.

May lalaking hinahatid and gelpren pauwi, kahit sy’ay taga-Valenzuela at sinisita’y taga-Cavite, hindi padupuan kahit sa lamok ang sintang mala-sanggol ang tulog dahil pagod sa duty sa pampublikong ospital. ‘Yung binata; naka-uniporme pa ng Jollibee, pero may dalang T-Square at mga libro sa Geometry. Saludo ako sa mga ganito: Pinoy magmahal, Pinoy ang t’yaga. Parang dyip, oo reject man ang makina sa Japan, pinagi-ige pa rin para pagkakitaan.

Habang tindi ng kapit mo sa estribo, habang kabado ka sa mukhang holdaper sa tabi mo, ‘di mo alam, puwede ka nang ipinta ng mga maestro o iguhit ng mga kartunista dahil nasa eksena kang perpektong simbolo ng kung ano ang Pilipino.