Battered Butt

My butt is aching and that is not because I am the new bottom boy of Adelaide. It is because of our new bikes.

Steven and I bought a pair of cheap bicycles last week and we have been dragging our way around Adelaide since. We usually ride for about 90 minutes to go around Semaphore and to the Adelaide Aquatic Centre from our place in Alberton.

Back in Manila, I would never ride that long and on proper roads. I would only go around the block and that is all. Hence, my butt feels like it has been violated by a dinosaur.

Drivers can also be a worry as some disregard us. They would swerve on to the bike lane when their turn or park as if we do not exist.

We are doing this for some fun and to lose weight. So hopefully, I will be in my Bangkok shape in a few months.

Boring NAIA Terminal 1

Most international airlines use the terminal 1 of Ninoy Aquino International Airport. It is the oldest in the country and unfortunately, the age shows.

After spending 2320 pesos (or around 53 US dollars) to use the airport, I got to be in the departure gate with no TV, no radio or any form of entertainment. There were no drinking fountains and reasonably-priced food. There were no internet and no computers.

Surprisingly, we also found out that there were no electric outlets for our laptops. So for 53 dollars, one gets nothing.

Mt. Makiling / Avatar

Steven describes the experience like being in Pandora--the magical forest-world of Avatar. In many ways, Mt. Makiling is.

 

We stayed in a hostel close to the entrance of the Mt. Makiling forest reserve. At night, we were serenaded by mating frogs and crickets. In the morning, lofty trees covered in vines salute us and their leaves bathed our bare heads.

 

And we went deep into the forest. I was literally crying because it was painful to walk more than 10 kilometers at an incline. It was all worth it. We had no guide so whatever we saw was a surprise for us. The path to the flat rocks was dense with huge roots, mud and barks of trees. And these trees block out the sun so it was like dusk the entire day.

The greatest surprise was the bubbling mudspring. It was very tempting to dive in but the sign said that the temperature was around 80 degrees Celsius. It was still amazing just staring at the thick mist that nourishes every nook and cranny of that area. 

We also went to botanical garden and found the plants very powerful. Every man-made structure was slowly being broken down by vegetation. It was green all over as if the sky rained with green fungus and moss.

Our stay in Mt. Makiling is one of the most unforgettable parts of our trip. It was very enchanting especially after spending several weeks in grimy and noisy Manila.

The Lazaro Clan 2010/2011

I left the Philippines in 2006 and since then, I have been trying my best to visit them every year. This year's visit was dramatic, revealing and a lot of fun.

 

More faces are added to the clan. There are some new wives and a lot of new husbands. With these new couples are dozens of children--some of which I do not recognize anymore.

 

Of course, I also miss a lot of old faces. There are some that I wanted to see but have already passed on. There are some that I wanted to see but they already have other clans of their own.

 

I hope you enjoy these photos and videos of those fun moments that I had the past holidays.

Meeting Carlos Celdran

 

I have been to Intramuros countless of times. Steven has been there last year. Why did I go there again during my latest trip to Manila?

 

Carlos Celdran.

 

I have heard about Carlos long before emigrated from the Philippines in 2006 but my admiration blossomed when he made a very unique protest last year. He did not like the Catholic Church's stance on the Reproductive Health bill which will help our fellow Filipinos to better manage the size of their families.

 

I was beyond ecstatic when I saw him. I wanted to tell him that I believe that he will be an important part of history. I wanted to thank him for waking us Filipinos from apathy towards the church's abuse of its power and influence.

 

I wanted to scream and hug him but I didn't. I only settled for a photo with him.

 

Food Trip/Guilt

I am fat. No, I am not denying it. I was 64 kilos right before moving to Adelaide in 2008. Last month, I was 70 kilos. Right after our plane landed in Adelaide last week, I weighed 72 kilos.

I admit I have been very lazy working harder in the gym. I seldom push myself to the limits anymore.

I have also been less careful of the things I put in my mouth and my time in Manila last Christmas holidays made things worse. I just had to eat everytime I see something I miss or something that is new.

One night in Singapore was spent eating anything exotic--genuine Chinese congee, Singaporean seafood soups, fish cakes, etc. I felt I had to make the most of my very limited time there.

My friend Dinah took us to a Korean restaurant near Rockwell. I scoffed several pounds of veggies. Though it was healthy, I think I just ate way too much--enough to feed an entire family.

But the most delicious shit I found during this trip came from Laguna. It is Lety's Buko Pie. It is the best version of the classic young coconut pastry I have ever had. It oozed with very soft sweet coconut meat covered in delectably crumbly crust.

As you can see, I have done so much damage on my body and I want to go back to this figure. This is one of the last photos I have taken of myself in Bangkok three years ago. Do you think I can go back to 64 kilos by the middle of 2011?

The State of Philippine Museums

I love going to museums. It is like History 101 for any country in the world and that is why I went to a lot during our latest visit to the Philippines. We visited University of the Philippines' Vargas Museum, Makati's Ayala Museum and Manila's Pambansang Museo and the Museum of the Filipino People.

 

The National Museum was shameful and embarrassing. Although it houses some of the most expensive painting in the country, these art pieces are so dirty that one could only guess the real colour sand details of the art pieces. Many of the animal skeletons are either missing or broken and all are hidden in the dark. Most of the museum is actually closed and blocked from public viewing as these parts are being rebuilt. Nevertheless, it is depressing that the place that should contain the things that define us as a country is in shambles.

 

The Museum of the Filipino People stands right beside the National Museum and it charges everyone a 100 peso fee upon entering. I am not really sure why but half of their collection focus on shipwrecks and relics found in them. They definitely do not reflect the Filipino people. Half of their collection is devoted to indigenous tools but many of the explanations are missing and/or kept in the dark where nobody can read them.

 

The Vargas Museum is a must for students learning how to paint as it is also a home to some priceless paintings. It also has some very recent paintings that have become very popular (i.e. Joy Mallari's "Doll Eyes") and works of aspiring artists. Unfortunately, the priceless paintings can only be viewed at certain days and at certain hours of those days. And we missed those few hours.

The Ayala Museum is a private museum owned by the Ayala Corporation (who else?). Its presentation of the Philippine democratic history history in diorama is even better than what I have seen in Australia. But the most memorable part of their collection are the gold pieces. I did not know that we produced so much jewelry and goldenware before the Spaniards came. Many of these pieces even date as far as the 10th century. That collection really made me proud that we had such a rich life before the white people came. The only downside to this museum is there is a different fee for foreigners--a 100% difference.

So I thought that I was going to introduce Steven to Philippine history and culture but instead, I was able to show him a representation of the Philippines' present state. As the government-owned museums are in shambles and in the dark and so is our own government. As we see glimpses of our beauty once in a while, we also see glimpses of our ugliness half of the time. Only the big private corporations give us light but then they also reflect the great disparity between the rich and the poor.

Jaw-dropping Singapore

Last year, Steven and I did not leave Changi Airport on our way to Manila. We regretted it because we felt there was something big outside.

 

Last December, we saved some of our vacation money for Singapore. With only typed instructions from friends, we ventured out this high-tech city.

 

We stayed at the Hotel 81 in Chinatown, very close to a metro station. Public transport system made our jaw drop several times. These trains run every few minutes, they are fast and their routes are easy to understand.

 

The street stalls offer various cuisines from mainland China, Hong Kong, India, Vietnam and even Thailand. I am guilty of binge-eating in Singapore eventhough we stayed for one night only.

 

I have never seen a city as multi-cultural and multi-national. We saw Australian and Filipino businesses. We heard languages from different parts of the world in public places and even as public announcements. And Singaporeans can also speak English!!!

How can this city-state be so high-tech and efficient on one hand and so traditional on the other? I ate on the street and yet there was a security camera pointed at me. Chinese dragons and merlions are around and yet I see people attached to mobile devices.

In an eerie way, I also felt like I was home in the Philippines because of the number of Filipinos living there. In every corner, I heard Tagalog. If I were single, Singapore would definitely be on my short list of countries to live in.

Bagging South Australia

I have lived in three different cities already and sadly, my birthplace is the dirtiest. Grey skies greet any newcomer upon landing. Your throat and your eyes will burn upon setting foot out of the ridiculously small airport.

Filipinos and the local businesses are trying to change though. There are days when you have to bring your own shopping bags. I have also discovered that most of the shopping bags right now are degradable.

I know it takes several months to completely break down one plastic bag but at least it is one step towards environmental sensitivity.

South Australia has already banned the use of plastic bags in many businesses (except for video shops, department stores, meat shops, etc.) but I am sure all SA businesses can afford to use degradable bags alongside recyclable ones. I usually do not know what to do with my huge heap of plastic bags at home.

Having An Affair

I bought my first high definition TV a few months ago and my partner can testify that I am having an affair with it. It seems I cannot live without it. I spend so many hours with it. I even think of it while I lay in bed with my partner.

Our Samsung LA40C650 just makes everything fucking brilliant. My blu ray movies appear three-dimensional because the computer in the TV produces images in a very fast manner. TV shows look like they were shot with a handy cam because one can even notice the imperfections of the cameraman's hands. Youtube videos also look very clear as they are streamed directly on to the TV itself.

 

Nowadays, it is a pain visiting other people's homes as many of the people we know still have CRTs. They flicker a lot and are just too small. Yes, I am a size queen!

Airplane monitors are the worst. They are way too dark and the definition is all over the place. It feels like I am wasting my time trying to decipher what I am looking at--is that King Kong or a man in an ape suit or is that a black brush with limbs?

I am sure I am not alone. High-definition TVs are changing our standard of how TV images should look like all the time.

Random Thoughts on Refugees

I am fortunate enough to be able to interact with different kinds of migrants here in Australia including refugees. They openly share with me their experiences and thoughts of their new lives in this country.

 

One time, I told one Sudanese that I do not like celebrating my birthday. She said that I should be happy and I should spend it with my same-sex partner. Then I found out that many refugees do not even know when they were born. The immigration department assign them their birthdates.

I have encountered a lot of Australian-born kids here and they are mostly concerned about getting a car or the latest phone model. On the other hand, the young Sri Lankans I know are very very excited going to school and learning more about this adoptive country. They are very hungry for stimulation because they were practically born and were raised in refugee camps.

Many white Aussies believe that refugees are only taking the former's tax money through Centrelink payments. These pompous people have not even talked to one of these refugees. They do not know how hard refugees work on to get their skills recognised and how racist Australian employers are. Refugees work so hard for their education and when they reach that goal, it is much much harder for them to get employment than their white counterparts.

Very recently, dozens of asylum seekers (including babies and women) perished as their boat smashed against jagged rocks at Christmas Island. Online, many Australians say that these people deserve to die for queue jumping---death for the desire to have a life with dignity.

Afghans tell me there are no queues to jump but there are literally people to run from. Yes, they run to cross borders and not many make it. Only the young make it and that is why most Afghans in Australia are teenagers without their siblings and parents.

Many Aussies do not know that refugees spend not only a few years in refugee camps but decades. Some of them even die in refugee camps where conditions are far from humane. It takes the United Nations years to declare them as genuine refugees and it takes Australia years to accept them.

There are no queues to jump but their own lives to save.

Culture of Speeding

Everyday, Australians hear on the news people getting killed or injured on the streets. Some of them are because of drivers who speed and do burn outs.

South Australian Police always appears on the news saying that they have done everything to stop people from being irresponsible on the road. They have spent so much money on multi-media ads, hardware (i.e. speed cameras) and holiday shifts for police officers. But I do not agree that they have done everything.

I do not feel sorry for those young men and women who have put themselves in mortal danger just for fun. I do not consider it an accident that they are dead and I find it abhorrent that some of them have injured and killed some innocent people just for fun.

Australia has a culture of speeding. There are several car races every year that involve millions of dollars every year. Hence, racers and racing are glamourised and some people consider this subculture as part of the Australian identity.

This is one of the reasons why young men and women think that it is cool to irresponsibly hold the wheel and run over an old neighbor of mine while she was feeding the birds in our park. She is in her 80s and fighting for her life.

But even up to now, there are still people doing burn outs in the same park, right where the old woman laid fighting for her life. I won't be surprised if the same asshole is doing the marks on our roads.

I believe we should end this racing culture. It just kills.

Mightier than a pen

I know I have been lazy updating this blog. Being in a relationship, I have become a bit more reserved when it comes to divulging information about myself. That means whatever I reveal online, somehow my partner gets affected whether he shows it to me or not. My current job right now implicitly gives me less freedom on what I can say publicly.

Because of these reasons, it has been very difficult to choose a topic I can post. Since I was very young, my friends have described me as a shit-stirrer. Perhaps, it is true but I am just being completely honest. If my honest remarks has "stirred some shit" then it is not my intention.

But lately, some people who have been visiting this page have posted very angry remarks not only against my ideas but also against me. Some of them even explicitly mentioned that I should go back to the Philippines. I am only human so I am affected.

Honestly (there is that word again), I do not lose sleep over those remarks.

I lose sleep over remarks coming from people who are close to my heart--my family. Some of them have been very upset with my comments against the Catholic church. 

I guess I lose sleep also because this topic is a very sensitive one for me. The feelings I have against this institution are very raw because my awful experiences in this church have contributed to my being. These experiences have resulted to serious decisions I have made in my life.

Will I stop doing what I am doing? I am not really sure. It is like asking me if I can stop feeling.

Bullying doesn't stop but handling it better

Discussions on teen suicides are on the rise in the US. Some victims of teen bullying are gay and some are not. Just the same, bullying comes with a lot of pain and with suicide, that pain is shared by the victim's families and friends. In my own experience, bullying may also stretch to the direct victim's family.

I grew up being bullied as well and one of those reasons is because I am gay. My parents wanted the best for me and they thought sending me to a Catholic school would make me a successful person someday. They are aware of what I went through and they have seen me cry so many times after school.

 

When I was in fifth grade, my classmates would tease me in and out of the classroom. I had to deal with lewd gestures and words and my teachers were aware of it. These teachers did not  punish these kids though maybe because it is hard to explain to the students' parents that their children dislike fags in school.  Gay kids are supposed to be sinners anyway in that Catholic school.

 

I also had one teacher who threatened me by saying if I turned out to be gay (I could not admit to anyone that I was) in high school, she would hunt me down. That scarred me far deeper than my classmates words.

 

But that was not the end of it.

 

In high school, I had one teacher who had a gay son as well. It was very obvious that animosity existed between the teacher and her gay son and she took it out on me. She taught my classmates to turn against me--she ordered them to report to her whenever I acted in a gay manner. She would put me infront of the class and let my classmates tell her of my behavior. I would cry and sometimes, I became inconsolable so she had to take me to the staffroom. On the way from our classroom to the staffroom, she would parade my sobbing self as students from the other classes watched.

 

This evil teacher said if I did not stop being gay, she would ask my mother to report to class and let her be infront of my classmates. She threatened that my mother would suffer the same abuse that I was receiving. At 32 years of age, I can still say that that was the lowest point in my life.

 

I thought of suicide so many times in my life. I would cry myself til I could not cry anymore. I did not do it because I knew life has something so much better to offer.

 

Has the bullying stopped? Hell no! Adults have their subtle little ways of doing it by asking who is the woman in my relationship, by saying that I cannot have children and by saying that my partner is my boyfriend.

 

But now I know better--they have nothing that I need or want. I, myself, am complete. I am a happy gay man and they can stick their ignorant words in their hell-bound asses.

Jogging and big birds

Steven and I are trying to lose weight so we will look fabulous when my family see us in December. Marriage has made us too familiar with each other that looking good has already taken a back seat.

We have returned to the water since the days are becoming warmer and warmer. I have complained about the winter for so long and I am very happy that we have more time to do more things. Swimming no longer stings.

We have been jogging as well. Because of the heavy amount of rained we received last season, the parklands are all green and decorated by red, orange and yellow flowers. We are surrounded by perfumed air as the blooms try to attract the insects and the birds.

And speaking of birds, parklands have exploded with them. Magpies are feeding their young. Ducks and black swans are marching with their young ones. Sulphur-crested cockatoos seem to be heckling each other.

I am not sure if these animals are helping me though because I tend to stop jogging and just gawk at them.

One week in Canberra

Steven and I have had very fond memories of Canberra since our first visit. I came to this city a couple of years ago and his first visit was five years ago. We vowed to spend several hours in its museums.

We went to the old and new parliament building. Although these places are not really that old, one would feel the significance of these buildings.

The National Museum was a treat for me because it is one of the few places one would learn more about the aboriginals, especially before the arrival of the British. I watched a video of how a goanna is gutted and cooked. I might want to try that if given a chance.

The War Memorial is huge so we spent almost the whole day in it. There were old exhibits and some new ones. The new ones showcase computer animation and very high tech sound systems. I really think this museum should be visited every couple of years.

It was spring so the weather was warm enough to enjoy the flower festival called The Floriade. The layout was a bit confusing but the flowers were really beautiful. We also visited the Botanic Garden where we spent some time flirting joking around.

 

Finally, we also visited some radio telescopes. I felt compelled to do a Jodi Foster and look for Adolf Hitler on the computer monitor.

 

I was surprised to like the long road trips but then that wouldn't have been the case if Steven weren't very good company. I can't wait for our next one.