Friday, June 30, 2006

Ain't No Scientist

I was never cut out to have a career in Science. I knew it immediately after a few classes in high school Biology. I had problems memorizing the bewildering classifications in the plant and animal kingdom, all I could really remember was Phylum Chordata. But I was fine with Math. I enjoyed solving algebraic and geometric problems (yup, that’s true), although I knew a few were irritated (who cares if Y is three times older than X twenty years from now?)

But my instincts were proven right the day I submitted my Science Fair project: perfume made from extracted kalachuchi oil. The scent was so faint, soaking the flower petals in water would have done a much better job.

It was horrible. You see, the basic idea was to steam the flower petals to extract the oil, which would presumably condense, precipitate and finally fall, like rain, into a container. It was a complete disaster.

I assembled the equipment using two Nido milk cans connected by a hollow aluminum rod I got from a discarded outdoor antenna. Problem was, the steam was hot, and my condenser, being made of metal, was hot as well, so no condensation took place.

I simply told myself to hype up everything during the question-and-answer portion when the judges make their rounds. The judge only smiled. He must have thought, “and he’s from the top section?”

But lo and behold, the other entries were no better and were just as pitiful. One project was clearly a third-world lens made from a pea-size hole on some metal sheet, where a drop of water over the hole supposedly magnifies objects when you peek into it.

Big deal!!

And they wrote a ten-page science report on that? And besides, I read that back in my grade school library.

Another entry was a strange object made of styrofoam, where gasoline poured on one end comes out as 'rugby' on the other. Unfortunately, this project had no originality as it had been done to death in previous Science Fairs.

And of course, who could forget the innumerable fruit preserves: jams and jellies of all kinds. Name it. Balimbing (star fruit), jackfruit, santol, kamias, whatever. I’ve always wanted to ask the proponents, “do you seriously believe people actually want to eat thaat”, which of course, would elicit responses like, “well, do you honestly think people would even bother sniffing your so-called perfume?” And so I held back my tongue.

Ambrose’s entry, however, was the most spectacular, and I would dare say, the most ambitious. Fresh from the dumpster, it was a dish antenna made from a discarded umbrella. You know he got it from a garbage dump because all you could make out was the skeletal frame and what remains of the dirty, tarpaulin material.

It was supposed to gather TV and radio signals from afar, like Australia and China. Unfortunately, there was no hard evidence to support his impressive scientific blabber (which no one understood). It was simply anecdotal, like getting strange signals on your radio and TV from unheard-of-places when the sky is clear.

Well what do you know, he’s now chasing his dreams of becoming a scientist in Germany. As for me, I got myself a degree in Economics.

Sunday, June 25, 2006

Queen of Landmarks

I attended two weddings in a space of just one week. This time, it was Marge Simpson’s wedding. Ok, her real name’s Che and she got wed to Jerry. The ceremony and the reception took place in Sta. Maria Bulacan, a good hour’s drive from Manila.

Che is probably among the worst persons in the world to ask for directions. First timers who visit her place would do well asking other people for directions. They end up getting lost anyway. She has this tendency to magnify undistinguished locations, or even objects, as landmarks, which would only remotely resemble her descriptions.

For example, a fork road turned out to be non-existent, it was just a messy intersection. She once pointed out a “monument”, which her friends all imagined to be a life-size statue of a national hero. It turned out to be - holy smokes!- a small marker made from a slab of stone! A "park" turned out to be a few benches with several potted plants and bushes. Even a “basilica” apparently was just some typical chapel you’d find in any provincial road-side. You see, we all had visions of a grand, Spanish-era Church a la Barasoain in nearby Malolos.

There was also this bridge so small you could pass it by without even noticing it. A rural bank sign was so faded all you can really make out is the rust, she’d sound like you can see it far ahead as you approach it. And a “large” billboard sign advertising some photo services turned out to be -Dios Mio, Che!- smaller than an average carinderia, or food stall signage. And I haven't even mentioned that she can be color-blind too. When Gina, her former boss and now sister-in-law first tried to locate her place, Che told her to look for a red gate. It's just that it wasn't red at all, it was green.

First time I visited her place, I got lost, of course. She told me to take a bus that would take me right outside her subdivision. I did. Only it wasn't the right one. You see, I could hardly identify her landmarks, so I ended up a little further off. Try doing that at night and you might end up in Pampanga.

Anyway, the wedding was simple, short but solemn. I’m sure I’ll get a call from her one of these days, laughing her head off. Cheers!

Friday, June 23, 2006

On the Spot

I hate to be the one to bring this up. But since my reputation as a kill-joy already precedes me, I'll do it anyway.

This whole blind item business in my rowing club is getting a little out of hand. So many things happened in Macau and Guangzhou, some funny, others unpleasant. And the reactions from those who were involved vary: some do not mind being put on the spot at all, a few clearly revel in the attention and even crave for it, while others, including me, however are a little put-off and are not amused.

I think a line has to be drawn somewhere. There were clearly episodes that frankly speaking, should remain buried in the graveyard and best left forgotten. Real friendships got strained during the China trip, some still do not see each other eye-to-eye, so I think this is the point where people should exercise restraint and put a lid on this whole blind item thing.

Being made fodder for gossip and needlessly being put on the spot for some things that you feel others have no business meddling, leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

The Boracay delegates had in a sense, decided to leave their issues in Boracay, but the same cannot be said for the China delegates who appear like a pack of hyenas feasting upon a hapless victim.

If I were to maintain my respect for some people I need to leave those issues behind as well. Revisiting them will only prove to be pointless and counter-productive.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

A Rajah's Wedding

Just got back from Bohol to be present at my good friend Sikatuna's wedding. Ok, his real name's Marc and he got wed to Mimin. I had a small part, I played Franz Schubert's Ave Maria on the organ with the highly acclaimed Loboc Children's Choir at the Cathedral of St. Joseph in Tagbilaran City, Bohol.

It was a grand event, with guests flying in from Manila and nearby cities, Australia and Singapore, where the couple is based. The most beautiful part was when, after the grand procession of the entourage, the church's entrance doors were closed briefly for a few minutes, only to open again, allowing a flood of light to rush in, ushering the tall and beautiful bride, very radiant in her white veil and flowing gown, appearing like Wagner's Venus, and slowly walking her way down the aisle towards the altar, to the strains of Pachelbel's Canon in D provided by a Cebu-based String Quartet. Lovely.

The String Quartet was amazing. The quality's very good and they played not just some corny classicized pop ballads or some predictable Andrea Bocelli but honest-to-goodness classical music, Mozart, Bach, Handel, Boccherini and would you believe, even the Intermezzo from Pietro Mascagni's operatic masterpiece, Cavalleria Rusticana. They're miles better than some Manila-based ensembles. Was I the only one who noticed it?

The reception was fit for royalty, you know, like Rajah Sikatuna. (hi Marc!). It was easy to see that the couple spent a fortune for the event. The reception was at a top end resort in beautiful Panglao Island where the rates are qouted in US$!. Well why not, the terraced pools have a stunning view of the Mindanao (I think) sea.

We even got to tour Bohol the following day. Yep, we saw tarsiers, climbed a Chocolate hill and cruised along the jade green Loboc river while having our lunch. Very relaxing.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Golden Thoughts II

I just love it when I'm proven right. I wrote something about soaring metal prices (gold especially) last month, which I said, were likely to fall because there were no clear fundamentals to sustain the high levels. This time, prices have fallen drastically, with copper and gold leading the way. The latter closed US$550/oz. which is about 21% lower from its all-time high of about US$700.

Political tensions over the nuclear stand-off with Tehran appear diffused, for the moment, while US oil inventories appear stable (again for the moment). So there was no justification anymore for metal prices to be at those levels. Metal issues were simply overbought.

The drastic fall only means the herd mentality took over, and price levels may be in the opposite direction now: metals are currently oversold. Which means, since there exist a healthy demand for metals (the rise in prices last month was simply overdone), a technical rebound is likely in the horizon. When fundamentals take a backseat, psychology takes over :)

Monday, June 12, 2006

Ballenic Assault

I was fast asleep in the hotel room Frodo and I shared in Guangzhou, when all of a sudden, I felt a heavy weight on my back (I was sleeping face down). A slight commotion followed which I was only vaguely aware of, being groggy from sleep. Las ballenas (I will not translate—this is Spanish, so figure it out), or the papaya twins, were on my bed (their combined weights must have approached a ton), the butch-ier one, Mrs. Bates, was straddling and shaking my body so I’d wake up, while at the same time, warning Aretha Franklin to keep her hands off me (it’s as if I were someone else’s property!). Apparently, Frodo let them in. Of course I heard them!

The comforter was on the floor. All I had on was my red boxer briefs! I heard another voice, but I couldn’t identify who. They were giggling. Haven’t they seen a guy’s butt before? Norman Bates’ mom didn’t let go of me, literally dragged me out of bed to some room where a party was going on. Good thing I had the sense to pick up my shorts.

I was forced to party. Mrs. Bates literally held me down, got my card key so I couldn’t escape back to my room. A slight movement from me and she was quick to pin me down. Yes, she’s that strong.

I had some beer and some vodka, which even made me drowsier. At this point, I might have lost some consciousness. I thought someone was licking my right ear (I found out later Aretha was painting my ears with black pen).

I was totally irked by this rude invasion of my privacy. “I WAS SLEEPING, YOU NITWITS!” I wanted to scream.

I excused myself, went to the bathroom, then outside towards my room. However, much like in the Hitchcock classic, Mrs Bates was after me (She had my key!). Since Frodo didn’t open the door to our room (the asshole’s sleeping!), I knocked and pressed on the next room’s doorbell. Fortunately, it was Doc’s. He opened it, I was quick enough to go inside, just out of reach of Mrs. Baites brawny hands, like a wrestler’s, trying to pull me out of the room. Yep, I didn’t sleep in my room that night.

Some think the whole episode was funny. Not a single one of those assholes even bothered to apologize to me. Frodo, who was aware earlier on that I wanted to hit the sack, said that he opened the door and let the girls in because I was a KJ (kill joy). So now it’s my fault!

Amazing.

Thursday, June 8, 2006

Dragon's Lair

9 a.m. Manila, 31 May

Gandalf the Diva

Frodo and I arrived at the appointed meeting place in Timog, for the bus to take us to Clark. Gandalf was already there shooting darts from his mouth, aiming at those who did not heed his suggestion of wearing white shirts. He kept yakking about it the whole time, all the while lecturing about discipline, focus and team spirit. I had this urge to stuff his mouth with a white shirt, just to shut him up.

I quietly cheered when finally, Shaq, wearing red striped-shirt, stood up to him, telling him to back off and gave him a piece of his mind.

Bravo.

7 p.m. Macau

Surprise!

We were billeted in a dingy hotel, the CR was only slightly larger than your ordinary cabinet, with wires all over. Dangerous, you can get seriously electrocuted while taking a shower. The linen was dirty, the air-conditioning didn’t work. I turned on the electric fan, something exploded. No kidding.

One room was ridiculously designed, when you open the door, the dirty toilet bowl greets you. Yes, you pass through the bathroom on your way to the bed room.

Frodo and I transferred to another hotel, much better, clean and cheap.

3 p.m. Guangzhou, Guangdong, People's Republic of China

Squatting is a Way of Life

After a short lunch and rest at the hotel (which was a lot better than the one in Macau), Doc and I took a stroll, decided randomly on which streets to turn, and ended up in some department store. Unfortunately, I developed a bum stomach. To say that the CR was a disappointment is an understatement. You had to squat and there were no tissue paper. What, they expect me to use a newspaper?

10 a.m. 02 June, Pearl River Guangzhou

It was pouring buckets. Paddling practice was extremely difficult, the waters were rough, the vests were uncomfortable, the wind was howling and we couldn’t see well in the rain. Stormy weather. Doc was in the verge of vomiting.

4 p.m. Shopping in Guangzhou

Let Them Eat Balut

Dried star fish? Fungus? Dried flowers? The Chinese eat anything that may be possibly edible. I bought some Guilin rice sticks and an unidentified food item which resembles a skin boil. Meals at the hotel were an experience in itself. Half the time I didn’t know what I was eating. First time I ever ate pigeon (I thought they were chicken!).

I miss sinigang (meat broth).

03 June. Pearl River, Guangzhou International Dragon Boat Invitational Tournament

This Is It!

International races are tense-filled. You are up against the lithe but brisk Chinese teams, the muscular and swarthy Malaysians and Singaporeans, and the very large Aussies, Kiwis and Germans. The Caucasians looked like they belonged to the same bingo night socials club.

There were long boat (120 crew) races, complete with noisy drums and gongs, colorful dragon heads and lanterns. Wow, it is really a festival in China, not just a sport.

We won 2nd, beaten by the Malaysians, but we edged out Singapore and the other foreign teams. My friend Barry Manilaw, the acting captain, was ecstatic and I suspect, teary-eyed as well.

The place was so chaotic, and I have never seen this many people before.

04 June. Shaoguan, Northern Guangdong

Postcard Pretty

An opportunity to tour the Chinese countryside was provided on the way to Shaoguan from Guangzhou, a good four hour trip. Red brick houses contrasted beautifully against a verdant landscape of rice fields and forests which was a welcome sight from the endless mass housing facilities of Guangzhou. Climbing up the road, the mountains and the hillside forests were an awesome sight, the clouds slowly descending while the mountain tops were swathed with white fog. Which reminded me of the Bukidnon-Davao border.

At this point, Gandalf interrupts my conversation with Doc.

“Yes its like Buda, ok?” he says sarcastically. I had this urge to strangle this aging prima donna with attention-deficit disorder. Didn’t it occur to him why no one wanted to be his roommate?

After a sumptuous lunch and a short welcome ceremony complete with lion dances, we were bused to the competition site, settled ourselves in and paddled our way through the cold and slightly murky river. It was obvious the organizers were so eager to show off this touristy city. A show of giant fountains and lights provided a stunning backdrop to the Festival, plus some sky diving stunts, which I thought had nothing to do with the event. I had never seen this many dragon boats before, and the spectators, they were all over. You’d know why China has a population of over 1.2 billion.

For a split second, in between heats, the Kiwi boat hit the back portion of our boat near our steersman, causing our boat to almost capsize and throwing our drummer into the water, who was fortunately fished out quickly. For a moment, I thought we were going to drown.

Among the international teams we placed 4th. There was no way we can beat the Chinese after a rather tiring four-hour trip.

After the races, an Aussie came up to me and wanted to exchange my Spandex race shirt for his oversized yellow jersey. I figured I didn’t want to get BO so I declined politely. A Portuguese from Macau approached and wanted the same thing. I gave him my old uniform in exchange for his neon-orange uniform, which, when wet would make me look like a porn star.

Of Bladders and Bottles

On the way back to GZ, the 4-hour trip took a toll on my bladder, I had to go. The escort car provided by the People’s Republic of China in front had no intention of making a pee-stop for the convoy of buses carrying the foreign teams. First time I ever pissed on a bottle (I know, this is more than enough information). Others did the same thing anyway, including Gandalf. I do not know how some girls managed to relieve themselves.

La Obra Maestra de Bellini

I Capuleti e i Montecchi (1830) Opera de Vincenzo Bellini (1801-1835)   Acabo de ver una ópera maravillosa a través de Youtube, una obra ma...