Ignorance Is Bliss & Home Is Where The Heart Is

For the first time since college, I can honestly say that I have no idea what direction my life is taking, and I’m loving every second of the uncertainty. Or ignorance, if you would.

Since over a month back, I’ve simply been trying to “pick up the pieces”. When this all started, I was so afraid of the unknown — which is odd because if you asked me to choose between the devil & the deep blue sea, I’d easily pick the deep blue sea. I was so afraid of not having a grand plan for bouncing back. And with all the fear, I was afraid to let myself fall in the trap of depression.

I moved back into our family home around the same time. I have yet to get to the unpacking of everything I brought back home, but my room is back to its “I could die here” comfort — the sound of my sisters bickering right outside my door as they prepare for school; the dogs excitedly barking and scratching the lanai door as Helen comes out with their breakfast; the mocha & chestnut-colored walls that hold Judy & Mickey in all their monochrome glory; even our neighbor’s daily dose of Chris-Tsuper has become music to my ears.

I’ve also always been one to make plans and make sure they materialize, but since unemployment kicked in, I’ve found planning to be an effort of tremendous futility. For one, plans of late never make it past the 5-day incubation period. Second, I’ve come to a point in my life where I start to “desire” for things to just fall into place as naturally as they should. It’s not such a bad thing…

My good friend that I fondly call Scooter asked me a few days ago how the “suffocation” of home made me move back. The easy answer is that it’s the practical thing to do when you’re unemployed. Plus, there’s a strange feeling of bliss the minute I see our front door. The feeling envelops me so warmly, I couldn’t think of a better place to unburden myself, and let go of all my worries. At home, there’s no need to “escape”.

And home makes it easier to not have a plan, and still be just alright.  

 

Doogie-fied!

I spent about three weeks downloading four seasons of Doogie Howser, MD, only to find out that stowed somewhere inside my DVD barrell were 3 discs of all 94 episodes, spanning 1989 to 1993.

Doogie Howser was a craze in the late 80s. I remember watching it after dinner every Friday night on Channel 2, and I always got so excited just hearing the first few bars of the theme song. So in a fit of nostalgia, I “Doogie’d” myself to sleep early this morning, and continued the “Doogie-fying” the rest of the day. In fact, I’m still on it now. I don’t know about you, but I know that didn’t sound right.

It was cute to watch a pubescent Neil Patrick Harris save lives as the kid doctor from Eastman Medical Center. And as annoying as his voice and baggy clothes were, it was especially cuter to watch Vinnie Del Pino (Max Casella) knock Doogie Howser off his high horse. I happen to think that his character is the wisest, most clever, most passionate, and oftentimes, most morally upright.

I enjoyed watching the two best friends grow up, but by the time they got to the second season, the show somehow lost its appeal to me.

  1. They synthesized the theme song;
  2. Doogie & Vinnie moved in together but their co-existence was short-lived;
  3. Wanda’s voice became smaller with each minute she spent in art school. I mean if you’re angry, be ANGRY, not ingenue;
  4. Vinnie grew increasingly grumpy and obsessed with sex, but also quite pretentious since entering film school;
  5. Janine became more obviously dumb;
  6. Nurse Curly Spaulding’s hair got shorter and shorter in an effort to keep up with the turn of the decade;
  7. Paebo Bryson and James Ingram were often artists in an episode’s soundtrack;
  8. Doogie Howser started dating older women and became an obvious manifestation of Barney Stinson; and worst of all
  9. His nightly personal journals were becoming less and less genuine. They seemed to have come straight out of a bad screenplay.

It’s sad because as much as I enjoyed watching the full episodes, nothing was more enjoyable for me than watching Doogie Howser type away in his HP computer, which he switched on by clicking a small button on the right side of his screen. And he used the same computer throughout the four seasons — proof that some things remain the same throughout time.

Of the 90 something episodes of Doogie Howser, M.D., my favorite was when Doogie misconstrued an invitation for insemination to be an invitation for sex. With a much older woman. Who wanted Doogie’s genes. He wrote on his journal:

October 7, 1989… Today I made my first adult decision. I decided to stay a kid a little while longer.

We all develop a certain form of maturity as we age. I use the words develop and form because maturity is not for everyone past the age of 18, and because the word maturity in itself is ambiguous. I’d like to believe that I’ve developed my own form of maturity, especially in the last 5 years. It’s an often cynical but open-minded approach to reality, and as “worldly” as I am, I’m surprised I can still be quite idealistic.

It’s funny how you don’t have to be 10 to be a kid. I turned 28 this year, and I’m feeling the clamor of breaking loose more and more each day. Let’s make this simple. I want to indulge in my version of simple joys. I want to do foolish (not stupid) things in the name of fun. I want to get wasted everyday, from 4pm onwards for as long as I physically can. I want to sit on the sand in my bikini and play playlist wars with my best friends. I want to be carefree and be carefree with someone. And with everything I want to do, I believe everyone has a few delusions. And that it’s a wonderful thing to take these delusions seriously. They make you adult.

So I think I’m going to stay a kid a little while longer…this kid.

Circa 2005

Helown, Tita Haydee?!?!

You’re sure to hear the word “Helown” each time the phone rings in Little Baguio & Tita Haydee is within meters from the phone — in the kitchen cooking, or in the living room watching Tagalog soap operas. I reckon some callers have actually hung up when they realized it was Tita Haydee picking up.

Yes, she was popular even among our friends.

Many of them who would come to visit us in Little Baguio would ask how Tita Haydee was related to us. As most wartime stories go, my Lola Lourdes was 12 years old when she and Tita Haydee became friends. They were neighbors in Sampaloc, and Tita Haydee would often come over to play, help with the laundry, or other “part time jobs” like selling refreshments on the streets. And like other best friends, Lola Lourdes & Tita Haydee often had bowling nights out and sleepovers. It wasn’t long until Tita Haydee decided she liked it better over at 426 Honradez.

Her parents would often attempt to convince her to come back, but she has become too attached to the Tolentinos that going home (almost just next door) was never again an option for Tita Haydee.

Of the 69 years that Lola Lourd & Tita Haydee have been friends, a full 60 years were spent living under the same roof. 

Those who know Tita Haydee would tell you that she always had a grimace look about her. This, more than anything, scared off Lola Lourd’s long line of suitors. But she made an obvious exception for a fine gentleman from Dimasalang — Herminio Reyes, who would later become my Lola Lourd’s significant other.

On May 25, 1957, Lolo Miniong & Lola Lourd wed and built a new home for the family on 222 V. Ibanez St., Little Baguio – a then sprouting community in San Juan. Tita Haydee was the instant plus one. She looked after Lolo & Lola’s every need and from 1958 onwards, took care of two generations of Reyeses — that would include most of the 13 of us in the third generation.

Having come from a HUGE family (I use HUGE for the lack of a better term; the word itself is an understatement) where Tita Haydee shared the responsibility of raising the children and grandchildren, she was often perceived as the tyrant. But a lovable one. She had a very “special” way of making sure you knew exactly what she was thinking, especially when you’ve done something wrong. For example,  “iispringin kita”, which may (or may not) translate to “isi-spin kita (ng kutsilyo)”. Some of my uncles would even argue that this actually meant “papaluin kita ng spring”, but no one really knows for sure what it meant in Tita Haydee’s world.

As the Reyes children were growing up, Tita Haydee’s clout became pretty obvious. She was the boss when Lolo & Lola were away. Sometimes, even when they were around. She knew everything about Gilbert, Ernie, Tony, Avic, Vanj, Mike, and Chris. She knew how to tell them “Lichiro kayo!”, or call them “Kulasa”, or ask them, “Nag-aadik ka no?!”. And as imperfect as her dishes were, she prepared them with love and made sure the kids had enough to tide them over until they reached home from school — pan de sal with queso de bola, champorado, even tuyo’! Other classic Tita Haydee dishes included extremely salty fried chicken, very pale adobo, and an exquisite Kare-Kare (my personal favorite).

The years passed and after many additions to the family, Tita Haydee was still very much the boss of us all.

Little Baguio was home to me and my Kuya Paolo, and we were lucky enough to have known Tita Haydee the way we did. For as long as I can remember, Tita Haydee was always there to make sure we came home to a nice merienda after school, and often had a hand in disciplining us, when Lola Lourd or Lolo Miniong — or even Dad — didn’t have the heart to do so. If she serves you something for lunch and you refuse to finish what’s on your plate, be prepared to be put on time out under the dining table, followed by a threat that the Indians are out to get you. I even remember taking a blow to my bum with the handle of a broom (In hindsight, I think Dad got his “skills” from Tita Haydee), followed by the words, “Punietera kang babaknet ka!” or “Lintian ka!” Those are just two of the many Haydee-isms over the last 60 years.

Condiments for your meat? Knords (read: Knorr) would do the trick! Getting Tita Avic too exited? Don’t do it; she’s got clipsy (read: Epilepsy)! Sick? Get an x-tray done ASAP!

She was also our very own “jueteng lord” (my uncles would often joke that Tita Haydee’s jueteng “facilitator”, Mang Flores (+), was her soulmate). Long after leaving Little Baguio and four younger siblings later, Tita Haydee would often call our house in Pasig to tell the maid to have us brought to San Juan after school to collect balato. Her winnings would translate to Php500-Php1,000 for each of us.

Most of us are now all grown up, and we still recount the Tita Haydee we had in years past — energetic, always had a lot to say, always enjoyed a game of Mah Jong, always had a ready deck of powdered playing cards, that slipped easily out of her hands and onto the table to tell you — “Panalo ako!”.

When Tita Haydee started getting sick, we saw how this energy deteriorated along with her health, and it was sad to watch her almost wilt away, especially during her senile moments.

We’d often have family councils to discuss her well-being, and part of it was to make sure she had a new environment to look forward to each week, and so the siblings took turns hosting Tita Haydee’s stay in their homes. She would often “instruct” members of the family to tell Manang Ellen to stop sitting on the edge of her bed. Or tell us that Lola Meny was rummaging through her things. Or that Lolo Subring said to take very good care of Kuya Paolo. All of them gone for over 20 years.

Was it difficult to live with her? True to Tita Haydee form, yes — she made it quite difficult for the family, but we eventually learned to take all of it with a grain of salt, and managed to have a good laugh each time she said that the maids didn’t feed her for days, or that they poked fun (and a knife) at her. Of course these were all just in her head. She also hated every one that stood in the way of the fridge and stove — one of Tita Haydee’s passions was cooking, and to say that Manang Adelina (who took over cooking duties in Little Baguio) irritated the “living hell” out of Tita Haydee, was to say the least.

We also knew she was nearing the end of her life. On August 12, 2011 at 12:52pm, Tita Haydee slipped away during another harrowing dialysis treatment. We take comfort in the fact that her years of suffering have finally ended, but we wish it could have ended differently.

Tomorrow morning at 10, we say our last goodbyes to Tita Haydee. And we bid her adieu with black jack, royal flush, pusoy dos, maybe a pack of Philip Morris 100s, and the comfort of knowing that she’s in a much better place, where there is no suffering and where she can tell Lola Meny and Lolo Subring all about the wonderful moments we’ve shared together.

Thank you, Tita Haydee. I wish we could have given you more time, attention, and love. But know that in our little ways and despite the “weirdness” of our expression, we loved you very dearly, and our hearts will be filled with only fond memories of you.

I wish you could have lived to see our future. But I guess you have a better vantage point from up there. 

Three Reyes generations. Thank you, Tita Haydee.

Eric James Kelly: “The Natural”

Contrary to popular belief, mixed martial arts is not a sport that sprouted out of the infamous (not to mention phony) wrestling matches of the late 80s. The roots of modern mixed martial arts can be traced back to various mixed style contests that took place throughout Europe, Japan and the Pacific Rim during the early 1900s.

Wikipedia defines mixed martial arts (MMA) as “a full contact combat sport that allows a wide variety of fighting techniques and skills, from a mixture of other combat sports, to be used in competitionsThe rules allow the use of both striking as well as grappling techniques, both while standing and while on the ground. Such competitions allow fighters of different backgrounds to compete.”

In the Philippines, mixed martial arts is fairly new. It has never really grown to epic proportions, the same way it has in other parts of the world. In fact, a lot of people will tell you that the very nature of mixed martial arts is quite barbaric. But we do have a gem in MMA. His name is Eric Kelly, also known as “The Natural”.

At 27, Kelly has probably seen it all. And done it all. From his humble beginnings training in Baguio City, Kelly has evolved into one of the best – if not the best – mixed martial arts athletes of his time. He is the reigning URCC Featherweight champion, and is being groomed to compete in the One Fighting Championship in Singapore this September.

In school, Kelly was your average student. Garnering an average of 66.6 in Math in High School, Kelly made the most of his athleticism and started training rigorously in kickboxing, to keep himself away from the streets and to start a (professional) career in boxing. It’s not a surprise that since that fateful time he decided that fighting was for the ring and not the streets,  Kelly has proven to be a formidable fighter, making a name for himself not just locally, but across the globe.

Behind every successful man is a woman. Yes, Kelly is a family man. But he also takes a great deal of inspiration from his good friend and coach, Chef Christopher Romine. An MMA enthusiast himself, Chef has consistently seen Kelly through life’s many challenges, including but not limited to purely MMA.  Kelly describes coach Chef Chris as the person who has taught him the valuable lesson that “our kids are our strength”.

Chef’s post in Macau has not stopped him from continuing to impart lessons to Kelly. Asked why he devotes himself to the effort of seeing Kelly “fly”, Chef Chris puts it very simply — “He’s got so much potential!” That’s right, Chef — Kelly has so much potential.

Kelly isn’t known as “The Natural” for no reason. His quick reflexes and smooth moves on the ring has earned him a spot in the fight card for the upcoming One Fighting Championship in Singapore this September (yes, I’ve said that twice!). Check out  http://onefc.com/events/1-champion-vs-champion-asias-greatest-battle-of-champions.html to view fight details.

Now, let’s get down to business. Kelly needs your full support in this once in a lifetime endeavor. On and off the ring, what Kelly does best is REPRESENT, and we’d love for Kelly to represent YOU in Singapore.

So let’s talk!

  • +63928.2477489
  • tinavreyes@gmail.com
  • chefroe@yahoo.com

We promise this will be one for the books!

So this is Larsian…

In my seven years in Advertising, five years were spent travelling back and forth to Cebu for all sorts of different reasons – trainings, events, holidays. There have also been so many misadventures in those travels, but on the whole I would say they were never really geared towards discovering what Cebu had to offer besides Otap, dried mangoes, and quaint 3-star hotels.

 

So today, in an effort to “rediscover” Cebu, I set out on foot in search for the best bbq in town (so they say) – Larsian.

Larsian sa Fuente

Larsian was a restaurant in the 70s, and the name was retained long after it closed shop. This place is lined with MANY bbq stands. And when I say many, I really do mean many! Chorizo, pork belly, chicken, liver, isaw – name it, Larsian’s got it all for you. The place is open 24/7, and while it was practically empty at 3pm today, on regular (read: peak) hours, I assume it would feel like an SM Department Store, only with a lot of smoke.

Take your pick!

Still hesitant to explore the grilling compound (no, it’s not called that; I just thought it was an apt description), I ordered my meat from the first restaurant I saw — May’s BBQ.

May's BBQ at Larsian

I’d normally gasp in awe at the sight of skewered meat, but part of me was thinking “I could end up in the hospital for this”.  But since “I’ve been to paradise, but I’ve never been to” Larsian, I was (in essence) game for just about anything — as long as I didn’t have to watch how my food was prepared. Like this –

 

I’m also a carbo girl — I love rice! And of course I had to have rice with my grilled meat. And yes, Coke too! Because Larsian is Cebu’s version of hawker dining places you find across the globe, white rice from a rice cooker was something completely out of the ordinary. They serve you what’s called puso’ — I still fail to distinguish whether it’s “normal” rice or sticky rice, but it’s intricately wrapped in dried banana leaves, and shaped like a cone. (Read: In the Philippines, puso <depending on which syllable the emphasis is> literally translates to “heart”)

A heap of Puso' - the cone-shaped Cebuano rice

I sat all by myself in a long table lined with neon pink linoleum. For a good while, I just sat there and watched people go about their grilling duties across the many bbq stands around the place. On the next table sat one of the (mujerista) workers on break. I watched as he carefully peeled his puso’ and invitingly took it in his mouth with a slice of pork belly, with its red marinade dripping down his chin. I thought — “well, this shouldn’t be so bad”.

Enjoying my late lunch at Larsian

So as Larsian is a hawker dining place, expect not to have spoons and forks on the table. You eat with your bare hands. You’re given a small plastic bag, and it’s not for your take out! You put your hand inside the bag, take the food in your hand and into your mouth. As unhygienic as it sounds not to wash your hands before or after eating, it’s your best (and maybe only) option at Larsian. Condiments are also nestled (hehe) right in front of you — pinakurat, toyo, suka, sili — everything that goes well with bbq. As for me, I preferred not to “waste” the marinade and ate my bbq as it is.

While enjoying my meal, I constantly thought to myself — “is Larsian supposed to be a tourist spot? Or is this as normal as it gets in Cebu?” In Manila, hawker dining spots that operated 24/7 are normally lugawan (porridge), pizza parlors, and of late, hole in the wall Persian restaurants. It would be nice to have a (cleaner) version of Larsian in Manila.

I wouldn’t say that the bbq was all that special — in fact, I’ve had better bbq from roadside grills across tutoring centers in Manila. But for 4 sticks of grilled pork belly, 1 puso’, 2 Cokes, and for a grand total of Php85 (that’s less than $2!) for a complete meal, I’d say “not bad”.

The Php85 lunch!

I’d also say that while I went to Larsian to try something different, no reason is bigger than that I don’t remember how to get to Kan-anan ni Kuya J, which is supposed to be somewhere near the capitol. But would I go back to Larsian? Probably. On the condition that they start serving normal white rice like I know it.