Prism and Parallelism at the BenCab Museum

That's the title of painter Rodel Tapaya's one-man show at the BenCab Museum in Asin Road, Baguio City, which opened on February 25, 2012 and will last until April 15.



Born in Rizal, Tapaya attended the College of Fine Arts at the University of the Philippines, after which he pursued further studies at the Parsons School of Design in New York and the University of Art and Design in Helsinki.


Prism and Parallelism bravely showcases Tapaya's haunting, childlike, and beautifully dangerous fascination with Philippine folklore and myths.  His colorful, forever restless images are usually set in lush forests and jungles, where identity is susceptible to problems of being lost, being found, encountering someone/thing, and ultimately being transformed.




BTW, picture-taking is allowed at the BenCab Musuem.  Just lose that harsh flash.

How the New Improved SM Bagiuo Will Look Like

photo from The Philippine Star

Never mind those pesky troublesome trees and birds and what have you.

An Open Letter to SM Baguio

"They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique
And a swinging hot spot."


-Big Yellow Taxi, Joni Mitchell




Hi, 


I would just like to say that while it's good to know that SM Baguio has plans of making its new expansion as eco-friendly as possible as I've read from news of it, while it's nice that SM Baguio is going to be LEED-certified every square inch, the simple fact that it blatantly will affect the lives of close to 200 trees only defeats the purpose.  


Those trees have been around longer than most of us; let's respect them, and in doing so, give ourselves an ounce of respect as well.  Instead of the trees helplessly making adjustments ( even at the expense of their lives) just so we can erect buildings where ever and whenever we want--for a change why don't we humans make the adjustments?


You say the creation of a new building will provide jobs for the locals and invite more tourists.  That's true, but the city of Baguio can always provide locals the jobs they need without endangering the lives of trees. 


From the deck of SM Baguio, I remember watching birds, big rare unknown species (not just the ordinary mayas I've been used to seeing in Manila) hop from tree to tree.  It was such an awesome sight.  Those are the same trees that would have been affected should you go on with the expansion.  I'm sure the locals and tourists themselves won't mind delaying finding work for a few months time if only to find a more suitable one that doesn't involve those hapless alnus and pine trees sacrificing their lives.


We always say how great a film James Cameron's Avatar, but apparently we haven't learned its basic moral.


I dread to see the day when the repercussions of cutting down those trees will have to Baguio when the appropriate time of disaster strikes.  Let's not give this a chance to happen.  


Thanks.

45 Hotel It Is.

You can never run out of places to stay in Baguio.  Even during the peak seasons of Christmas and Panagbenga, and the oppressive summer months when you think almost every hotel in the city has been fully booked and it's just the cold, cold streets left for you, there's always one more room available for you if you just knows how to look around. 


Of course, the definition of Best Hotel differs from person to person.  If by Best Hotel, you mean a well-stocked minibar, widescreen TV, free wi-fi, an unobstructed, breathtaking view of the city all around you, and the reassuring fact that this and that celebrity had previously stayed in your room and whose skin made contact with your bed, then yes, some hotels have that.  But prepare your PhP 2,000 to PhP 3,000 per night.  And that's just during ordinary days.


Most Baguio hotels however are okay already with providing guests with the basics: soft bed with clean bedsheets, concrete walls and a sturdy door to guarantee your privacy, a good light, a dresser perhaps, and well, the most necessary: hot shower.  Some don't even have a TV set (because, frankly, if you're in Baguio, why would you need to watch TV?, you spent hours in front of it where you came from), and air-conditioning is optional.  But trust me on the hot shower because you don't want to freeze your brain out taking a bath in the morning, no matter if they say cold showers are supposedly bracing to the character.


In these simple lodges or inns, the rates can be anywhere from PhP300 to PhP700, very affordable.  You have to be careful though because sometimes, as with most other things in life, there's always a better deal if you just walked on a little further and tried inquiring at the next hotel along the street. 

Why You Should Check Out Cafe 108 the Next Time You're in Baguio

It's pretty hard to miss along Cafe 108 in Baguio.

It's the little bar wafting out live music at nights while you saunter along Session Road.  Actually, there are two bars with live music upstairs and downstairs of La Azotea Building and depending on your taste in music and mood on a particular night you could either head up or go down the basement. 

As we passed by, I thought I heard "Linger" coming from above, while below, the music emanating was reggae, so naturally, no offense meant, Cafe 108 at the second floor is where we sat our bums down and gulped beer for the rest of the night.

For a bar, Cafe 108 has a pretty small area, which is good in a cozy kind of way.  There's just enough legroom for you to negotiate your way in and out of the tables, and at one point, the guy on the next table sat so close to me I can actually touch his nape, though of course I didn't see the point of it.  Amazingly enough, even with such space restriction, it doesn't feel cramped and uncomfortable to be there. 

We were lucky to have chanced upon a good act. A guy and a girl, and just an acoustic guitar.  The female singer reminded me of Lisa Loeb, though probably that's because of the black-rimmed glasses, and to a certain extent, she reminded me too of the vocalist of an indie band Spiel which I had seen perform only once and never heard of ever since. 

I did get to ask the Lisa Loeb girl right there and then if she had anything to do with Spiel in Libis sometime in 2006, while an audience volunteered to sub for her (yes, they invite you to perform onstage), but she said No, she's always been based in Baguio, and as a matter of fact she herself was just substituting for the singer who was currently in Singapore.  Wow, for a substitute, she was very good.  And I didn't even get to tell her that.  Her partner on the guitar was good too, singing the guy songs as required. 

The songs they played that night Sunday Morning (by Maroon 5), Oo (by Up Dharma Down), Till They Take My Heart Away, The Man Who Can't Be Moved, Run (by Kitchie Nadal), Stitches and Burns, All My Life, New York (by Alicia Keys), and many others I just forgot because 1. I didn't list them in my journal, and 2. I was drunk.  The point is we love their playlist, and even if the Linger I heard earlier was actually a botched Do you have to let it finger, what the hell.

Scarves in the City

            This is the 40 Pesos scarf I bought in Baguio two years ago on my birthday and which I've worn only once.  Only once. 

            The thing with scarves is that they make sense to wear in cold, cold Baguio, but once in dusty, sweltering Manila (unless you're a call center agent in deep freeze in your cubicle—and even then it takes a lot to pull off a scarf), those scarves start looking pretty out of place and plain stupid.  Me and Edge learned quick when as our bus stopped at the Sison terminal in Pangasinan on our way home and he climbed down still wearing his full Baguio attire, he realized the temperature had risen and he was the only one still wearing his full Baguio attire, his own downy white scarf still coiled around his neck like a dark pesky thing.

            Incidentally, the Baguio folks do not care about these scarves, which is one sure way to tell the tourists from the locals.  Or if the scarf looks new, tourist; if faded and unraveling, definitely resident.  Two years ago, I think me and Edge were the only ones walking along Session Road wearing scarves, though this is also a good thing because I’d shudder to think if all of us down that road sported scarves around our necks.

            It’s as if, as a rule, the Baguio folks have gotten immune from the scarves, seeing they’re everywhere, much like the rationale, I guess, of folks living near the sea and who rarely take a dip in the waters because it’s always there anyway.  No need to be too excited about it.  Which is why for us who don’t regularly see such things, we must buy a scarf or two to give to friends, and we must seek the beach to get our feet wet, whichever comes first.

 

            The cold season is upon us, and if PAGASA's prediction is right, it'll begin sometime in the third week of November and last until March or even April.  That might be a reason to finally wear my scarf a second time.  Or not.

The Baguio, Er, La Trinidad Report So Far, Part 3

[still from last year, first posted October 2010]


20. We are not in Benguet anymore. People still think we are holed up there somewhere and so periodically ask us how's Baguio, etc, and I wish I had an answer for them. We were softies, we couldn't bear to be away from our folks for even a month, two months. Soft, mushy, sappy, weak, fail, call it whatever you want.

21. So we're back to square one. But who's keeping tabs?

22. They say to fully understand another culture or another place, don't be a mere tourist. That's what Smilla said: Move in, ask to be tolerated as a guest, learn the language. That's what we did. We learned how to haggle with the vendors, say thank you, say duwa (two) in Ilocano when we boarded the jeep, as if two was the sweetest word there is. I will tell you, in that brief span of time, me and Edge think we're no longer tourists or visitors in Baguio. There was an easiness and sureness in our steps now.

23. Edge's Nilagang Baboy. Traditional home-cooked meal, a refreshing change from all the sautee dishes we've been taking turns inventing out of necessity.

50's Diner | Review

Deep inside you've always wanted to eat in a diner.  


You know, the kind with a neon sign at the front, blinking, well, "Diner".  The kind with booth seats and where you can get your big plate of cheeseburger and fries like they do in the movies and TV.  

Which movies and TV shows, you ask?  The diner in Grease.  Or the diner in Heroes where Hiro met Nathan Petrelli for the first time, for instance.  Or Lou's Cafe in Back to the Future.  Or the  50's-inspired diner (Jack Rabbit Slim's) where John Travolta and Uma Thurman did the twist.  There's something comforting and reassuring in such settings, though God forbid a hold-up scenario in Pulp Fiction's opening sequence.


Anyway.  In Baguio there's also a 50's- inspired diner, aptly called 50's Diner, complete with, yes, the neon sign outside and neon tubes inside, the black and white checkered floor, the booth seats, stainless bar stools, a jukebox, and framed blow-up photos of famous personages of the 50s, give or take a few years: Elvis Presley, James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, Marlon Brando Zsa Zsa Gabor, Alfred Hitchcock, Paul Newman, et al.  


Thankfully, the management did not rub off the 50's theme on the waitresses, so you can rest assured no Marilyn Monroe in floaty skirt will suggestively peer over your shoulder as you munch your fries.  

The Baguio, Er, La Trinidad Report So Far, Part 2

[from last year, first posted July 16, 2010 (coincidentally the 20th anniversary of the 1990 earthquake)]




13. Edge says he feels like he's in a French film; he can't understand what people are talking about. The landlord, a nice man with five kids and a soothing voice and a white cat, wakes up at 5 am and chats up with everyone in Ilocano.


I'm supposed to be half-Ilocano although my vocabulary is limited to Wen (Yes), Apay (Why), Kiday (Eyebrow), Inapoy (Rice), Danum (Water), Napintas (Beautiful), and Mabayag (Taking a long time)--not particularly helpful when I'm trying to communicate that Edge,for example, has appendicitis and needs to be rushed to the hospital. Fortunately, the landlord and pretty much everyone else can speak in Tagalog, so we can bet Edge is pretty much safe.


14. And we got good neighbors. When it rains and we've left our laundry hanging at the rooftop, they take it down along with their own laundry, and you can just retrieve it later, safe and dry under the roof. On our first day, we had to borrow their broom. Later, they borrowed a cup of sugar. Mami says you have to be good to your neighbors because in the event of an emergency (including but not limited to appendicitis), your neighbors are first to rush to the scene, assuming they'd rush to your favor. By the time your family reaches you, you'd be dead.


Incidentally, Edge is reading To Kill a Mockingbird and Edge reports that somewhere there there's a passage about the virtues of neighborly camarederie. I'm not really an outgoing person, I learned to look at people in the eye when I was in college, and even then not that much. But I'll try my best.




15. There's eight of us in the compound, though we've only spoken to the family in one door as yet. Most of the guys are security guards. We're actually flanked on both sides by security guards. Edge says it's a good sign; we're safe and guarded. I can't help but think of Orestes Ojeda in Scorpio Nights.


16. On the down side, we don't face east, so there's no sunlight streaming inside our place in beautiful shafts with matching swirling dust. In Novaliches, we face east. In Bulacan, Edge's house faces east. In Cabiao, we welcome the morning light through the capiz door.


Here, there's light, but only a reflection: we see the rock garden beautifully illuminated, and that's it. Like the proverbial dwellers in Plato's cave. The analogy is flimsy but you get the point. Edge realizes that's why he's been feeling gloomy, and because he had brought it out in the open, now I can't help but feel gloomy too.


I'm thinking of strategically placing a giant mirror.




17. Because it's 500 steps on non-stop inclined plane outside, we realize there's no way we can play badminton or frisbee if we're ever up to it. It would be hell to chase after and pick things up should you fail to catch them.

Zola Resto/Cafe | Review

Zola Resto/Cafe along Session Road (just outside the Cathedral) boasts of the tagline: Better, Wider, Soother [sic].



At the risk of sounding like a Nazi Grammar, (we debated whether "soothier' would have been more acceptable than soother, since the restaurant was in the business of coining new words anyway, because, hey, let's admit it, "more soothing" is just plain awkward)--let me go on to say that the first thing that'll greet you when you enter is bright, bright light.  That, and a red velvet couch at the mini-lobby.  If this is what soother means, I'll go with it.


The well-lit interiors easily let you forget it's 11PM outside on Session Road.  Add to that the fact that the place boasts of at least four or five (I didn't really count) widescreen TV's, all of them synced to show and blast the same thing: foreign music videos, mainly pop and rap, most of which I've never ever heard of.  Which is good because at least I'm now updated (for the first time ever, I saw Katy Perry's Firework), but which is bad for the neck because I kept switching gazes on the TV's only to find out they all carry the same darn thing.  

But that's not to say Zola is just a glorified MTV watching venue.  The ambiance is easy and upbeat, almost spotlessly new and commercial, the cushioned seats are comfortable, each table has its own special designer lamp hanging overhead, and the place is always jam-packed  with a good mix of crowd, so you know you'll never be alone.  Again, with the amount of lighting going on, picture taking without flash is a breeze.


Now for the food.  Between the two of us, we tried their sisig, chopsuey, and carrot soup--pretty standard fare, but we just wanted to have dinner, any dinner at all.  The food appeared one by one, in intervals of 10 minutes so that by the time the sisig materialized on our table, we were done slurping the soup.  It didn't help that the plates they were served on were still wet.  While inadequately-wiped plates might be testament to a restaurant's bustling business, a kind of badge of honor, if you will--it's never classy, which, as I understood, is what the restaurant's interiors have been gunning for all these time.

While Zola is the sort of restaurant that refreshingly does not have any illusion at all to capture Baguio's essence (for a change, no tribal masks and other wood carvings to make the place rustic and homey), you have to wonder what exactly is the place trying to accomplish.  


Maybe just good basic homegrown food and a constant dose of foreign pop music under intense lighting, whilst promoting what our parents have always scolded us for: eating while watching TV.