Friday, November 30, 2007

GIRL TURNS 5…
The Family Files

Days before her birthday, Luna asks her brother “Kuya, what is your favorite body part?”

Rio: “Eh? Well, duh! The brain!”

Luna turns to her mum and Kala thinks the question is weird. She replies anyway: “Hmmm… That’s an interesting question. Brain!”

Luna, a bit disappointed with the answers, turns to me. “Ako rin, brain!” I answer.

But what about you, I ask Luna. “What’s your favorite body part?”

Luna: “My favorite body part is kuko! My nails!”

Rio, Kala and me: “Huh?!”

Luna: “So I can put cutix! I like nail polish. My favorite body part also are my eyes! And cheeks! And lips!” She's just like my youngest sister Yammy, who is beside Luna while the girl is holding a leaf...

Rio: “Duh. They’re just accessorizable body parts.”

Luna: “I don’t care.”

There’s about five seconds of silence -- then mad laughter, from everyone.

Yla Luna turned five in the middle of November, and what a blast it was. A small party was put together for her but since Kala and I have been either out of the house, out of town or out of the country too often, we just had to cross our fingers and hope enough people would come to Luna’s bash. We kinda flubbed the invitations part to our friends – Kala thought I was sending to so and so but I thought she was sending to the same people. And then we sent invites a little late…

The event was held at the original Max’s restaurant (the best!!!) and although we were expecting 20 kids and 30 adults, in the end, over 50 kids came (cousins and classmates and friends) and 75 adults showed up. Yeyey!

Lunalu was sooooo happy.

She wore the dress that her lola gave her and each time I tried to take a picture of her, she would do a curtsy if she were standing or if she were sitting she’d cross her legs. Amazing kikay to the max, just like Yammy.

Kala hired the outfit of Kuya Mao to entertain the party’s guests and what a grand show it was. Kuya Mao was formerly with Batibot, and whose repertoire was just magnificent. Kids and adults were all in stitches over Kuya Mao’s ventriloquist performance with Elmo, which was followed by an even more hilarious puppet show, then finally a magic show that was so interactive everyone was still laughing by the time the whole birthday party ended. Ibang klase! Look at Sophie and Julia! And Luna has doubled up. Tingnan ang tatlong anak ni Ateng -- halakhak ng halakhak!

If you have an event coming up, I tell you, get Kuya Mao’s show! It’s for kids and adults together, and for birthdays, Christmas events and office parties – he da man. Just write me if you’re interested and I’ll give you his coordinates. Sobrang sulit po, as you will see in the photos of laughing people in Lunalu’s birthday!

Kuya Mao a lot of characters with their own funny personalities – Superman was there and so were Spongebob, Barney, Lolo and Buboy, and Elmo/Elma.

He made sure everyone had fun -- the adults were laughing at the antics of the children and the kids got stomachaches laughing at the silly adults in front of them. Here you see Auntie Maki and Ninong Teddy wearing Kuya Mao’s costumes while singing nursery ditties. Nakakangilo! And right below that is top Tito Pogs – one of the country’s top telecom execs playing weird bunny… Creepy!

So many friends came and it was unbelievable. I saw long-time best buddy Jenny and Auntie; also Bituin (Filipino for star), whom Luna once said was her natural partner ”kasi ako , ‘moon’.” Bituin brought her mom -- birdie-girl and sandbox playmate Annabanana. With his three kids in tow was good buddy Peter Sing, former senior media man and now co-CEO (with Gilie) of the best-selling Pan de Pidro Bakeries. (If you’re thinking of special gifts to give to special people this Christmas, put Pan de Pidro on top of your list. Your friends and family will love you for it, though they’ll hate you for the calories; drop me a line too if you want to order, though Pan de Pidro branches are all over Metro Manila now even though they’ve only entered their second year)

Also present was Ninong Teddy and Ayen; the Pulido brood led by Miggy, Megan and Sophie, and the Constantino clan/Dada Ming’s troops led by Ia, Taro, Jedi (from Maoi) and Julia (Hochi) and newly wed CP and Ani.

I saw my university buddy Alphonse, who came with his kid and Teacher Fe and so many other COLF teachers.

On the pic here you'll see Luna giving a kiss to Dada Ming and also to Lola Dudi. She shouted to me that Dada had arrived with Lola and she was jumping up and down, her eyes gleaming.

Ninja with CJ and Aldo were also there along with Tito Pogi and Tita Winnie.

Leizl and her kids were there and Teban and Gigie also, with gorgeous Juliana – the pretty little girl hugging Luna in the pic.

Ang dami. My mind has lost track of who turned up. Sayang Kala and I again forgot to bring a guestbook...

The food was superb – Max kasi! – and the service was as crisp as the chicken and the ambience was appropriately rowdy (there was a big play area right behind Kuya Mao’s set). So many of the guests left saying they had a fabulous time. (And they were not just being polite; some were insisting they had humongous fun and were asking for Kuya Mao’s details...)

Luna can only agree. She was the most patient, giving away loot bags, holding the hands of her classmates, laughing with her cousins and sharing party food.

Soon as the family got back home, Luna went straight to her presents and nimbly opened them one by one. She said it felt like Christmas, since so many brought nice things for her, and indeed, it looked as if she received an advance barrage of gifts. Her immediate favorites were Annabanana and Bituin’s ceramic bird call (sobrang galling!), a dress from Peter’s youngest, Tiny’s Doggie Storybook and the doodling pad from Ninang Delia, the mum of Jenny.

Kuya Rio was a dutiful big brother throughout, helping entertain his young sister’s guests and having great fun in the process. You can see him here in his camouflage pants, laughing at one of Kuya Mao’s puppets.

What a fine day it was.

Luna has begun to read at will and she was delighted to receive so many books. Of course, the many art thingies that she got occupied her attention on the very day after her celebration. She was out in the garage, painting and drawing, as soon as she woke up. Right after she played with her most special gift, that is.

We gave the little girl a dresser. And oh boy o boy did she love it....

“I’m a big girl now,” Yla Luna told her parents as she batted her eyelashes and smiled at her image in the mirror.

Yes you are, Luna.

But you will always be our little girl.

Thanks for dropping by. #

Big thanks to Annabanana for some of the pictures here!

Thursday, November 29, 2007

BOY TURNS 9…
The Family Files

Middle of last August, the boy reached nine years. He’s now almost a decade old – time flies faster than the Green Lantern...

It took a while for the delinquent dad to post his pics and write about Rio’s big day, but finally here it is.

Months before his birthday, Rio was asked by his mum what he wanted to do on his special day. He said he really hadn’t thought about it, but he said "Please, no clowns or games or mascots or balloons. Especially not loot bags..."

Obviously he was saying he was no longer a boy. I wondered aloud and said maybe it was time to give him some whiskey. Rio said "I'm older but not old!"


Smart kid.

Rio’s a big boy now. His routines and pastimes are more defined, and his habits speak more and more about who he is and what his interests are.

I’m happy that he’s still so far the only boy I know who would turn down an uninterrupted afternoon of Sony Play Station time if he had a great book to read. In fact he has taken to reading with such gusto that he is now exchanging books with his uncle and his mum’s pops (his mum also gets to read Rio’s books every now and then.)

Rio loves fantasy novels and science fiction, which is of course just fabulous. It’s one of the most liberating and underrated genres ever and many of its writers are among the most visionary and stubborn people the planet has ever known. He'll get more smarts from such books, and tougher lessons too. (That's Rio with a Gen. Macario Leon Sakay shirt on, which was issued to commemorate the centennial of the Filipino revolutionary's death -- hanged in 1907 by American invaders and the native elite. Kala and I named Rio after Sakay.)

Rio somehow reads almost everything he sets his eyes on. Like me, he tends to read all the details and ingredients on the back labels of shampoos and cereal boxes.

A stray political manifesto in the house provokes questions over dinner. Old newspapers make him wonder aloud about who is stealing again in government. Comic strips delight him and make him go searching for his ever missing sketchpad, and brochures or flyers about a housing project or new product make him ask about humankind’s capacity for stupid inventions and real estate.

There was a day when all the kids, including Luna, were romping about our street, which was then under construction. Water gun play, hide and seek, climbing gravel mountains – the works. You will see Rio in one of the pics here -- in the middle of kids chasing kids -- in the midst of youthful tumult, Rio is standing by his lonesome on a cement block quietly reading Tolkien's Return of the King...

He finally decided just a week before his big day how he wanted to celebrate his ninth year.

Rio said he wanted to go out with his gang and treat them to humongous sandwiches, buffalo wings, fries and milk shakes, after which, he said, they should go to Station 168, his favored gaming place.

Great agenda.

And so on the designated date, I watched Rio and the boys goof around all day, boisterous and rowdy and ever hungry.

I wouldn’t have been surprised if they actually ate the table cover. (I think one of them wolfed down a whole sandwich including the wrapper...)

At the gaming station, they were in Seventh Heaven. Rio did the job of policing the games they played – he asked his chums to avoid the spectacularly nasty, stupid stuff such as Grand Theft Auto where you get points for beating up old women and running over pedestrians while stealing cars and so on.

The kids played for hours, laughing and squealing and throwing paper missiles at each other while I tried in vain to write notes on a chapter of a second book. I ended up walking around a lot to laugh with the boys, who kept swiveling around in their seats to taunt each other and to laugh some more.

What a day.

It was his best birthday celebration ever, Rio said. And his classmates agreed. One even whispered to me as I walked him to his guardian: "Tito Red, it was the best day of my life!”

I walked around later with a spring in my step.

“Can we do this again next year?” Rio asked when we got home.

But of course my son. Surely. But of course. #

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

ABOUT A GIRL
The Family Files

Her name is Yla Luna. In Spanish it's like saying "And the moon" or, as her silly dad explains, it can be the singular form of the fragrant flower called ylang-ylang combined with the word moon.

The little girl does not need any prop to be heard or seen. She likes people and is immediately friendly (obviously taking after her mum) and she plays with abandon, laughs like a child, has the wisdom of an adult, is super sweet to friends and family, loves to dress, loves to draw and loves to talk about stories all day long.

Lately she's taken to inventing songs and singing and humming her own tunes for hours on end. She adores dolls and sleeps with a couple of them, which are attached to the bottom of her brother's bed (Luna has the lower bunk in their double-deck lodging) with the dolls arranged in a row and dangling from the neck, which makes her space look like a mass gibbet.

We call the little girl Lunalu at home; the little girl who will do whatever she wants to do and invent all sorts of loopy schemes to get what she wants.

Luna has her own way of taking on the world. Very different from her brother actually. More impish, more spontaneous. Reckless.

She gets into situations that have many times brought about unintended moments of pure mirth -- and different expressions of "Oh no! Lunalu!"

I remember one weekend at our patio. It was near lunch time and I was cleaning the swordtail pond and felt thirsty. Rio and Luna were crouched beside me washing shells and sand dollars. I decided I wanted a beer and Rio said he wanted to take a break too.

Luna didn't go along with the lazy boys. She said she wanted to stay with the pond and remarked that maybe there were other things to do besides swishing stuff around in the basin, which was already boring her to tears.

On the way to the fridge, I asked her half jokingly to count the fishies while I got hold of refreshments.

On my way back to the patio, cookies and juice and beer on a tray, the phone suddenly rang. A friend of mine wanted some background to climatic records two decades ago and our conversation sort of sauntered over ecosystem collapse, Aerosmith and kite-flying.

By the time I walked back to the pond, Luna was already shouting and close to stomping on the fishies. Apparently she was still trying to attend to the task I gave her, and of course the fishies refused to cooperate despite her pleas, which became demands, which became grave threats...

She ran to me teary-eyed as I approached the pond. Said the fishies wouldn't keep still and they were making fun of her and she still didn't know how many there were.

I had to bite my lip to keep myself from laughing.

Then there's the time I caught Luna in our room all quiet and standing still. Her eyes were shut tight and her fists were clenched and she had a silly smile.

She almost jumped out of her skin when I asked her softly what she was doing.

Without even opening her eyes Luna replied, "Shhhh! I'm trying to hear myself think..."

Oh.

Another time Luna approached me while I was reading on the bed. She looked distressed and nervous. I asked her what was wrong and she explained, "Kasi Tatay when I close my eyes to imagine, parang naka-off na ang imagination ko. Lahat black!"

Ah. Eh?

I said, "Try closing your eyes again."

Luna closes her eyes.

"Now think of kuya Rio."

Luna: "Ayun! There he is! May color na uli!"

We laughed together for a while. #


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Monday, July 23, 2007

READING AND FREEDOM
The Family Files

Rio waited for months but finally J.K. Rowling's latest Potter book came out. Even fever couldn't prevent his parents from getting Rio the book, and then it was straight back to Kamuning to slow down again.

Rio soared as soon as opened its first pages and was quite a head-turner on the way back.

People would stare at him or poke one another.

Twice, two sets of teenaged girls giggled and pointed at him, whispering "Cute the boy! Look!" while he pored through his story sitting on a chair or on the floor of the MRT coach. By the time we got back to the house, he was in chapter eight and so thoroughly delighted.

The boy's a bookaholic like his mum. He consumes books the way he scarfs down rice, which is in great and regular quantities. He's the only eight year-old I know who passes up on whole day PlayStation sessions in order to read. And so far, thanks to the piggy bank habit, Kala and I have managed to keep our promise to the boy that he will always have books to read. Same with Luna actually.

It's an expensive promise, no doubt, but it is one that we intend to keep. It is our own space program for the kids and the two of them will travel far greater distances than NASA astronauts.

It doesn't matter that his new Harry Potter book is hardbound and 800 pages long. He actually welcomes the length and breadth of his reading material, which he relates to the story rather than the union of ink and trees.

He's quite free now -- so long as he maintains his reading interest, at least -- and he understands this.

In his world of books there are fewer and fewer boundaries. Whole galaxies open up to him and worlds collide and meld as says hello to all manner of beings, good and bad and strange and normal. Or, as he'd probably say, characters that are "nefarious" and "sinister" and "wicked" and "chivalrous".

The more words he learns, the hungrier he gets.

The other month Luna was insisting to him that in /the Tom and Jerry show, the cat was actually the good guy and the mouse the bad one, because Jerry, she said, was always trying to annoy Tom the cat.

Rio replied: "What?! You got it backwards. It's Tom who's bad. What he wants is to masticate and massacre mice."

Which of course annoyed Luna since, to her, her brother was again not making any sense.

She'll know soon enough about the wonders of words. In fact I think she already understands. She's been writing to different folks actually. Sending them by post and then jumping up and down when the mailman brings back a reply after a week or two.

I remember feeling the same way once. I still think postal mail is one of the best things that this world has to offer. Nothing like opening an envelope and reading letters sent by friends and family, with handwritten ones being tops and versions printed out coming at a distant second.

I used to send myself postcards regularly, just to get the pleasure of running my finger over the stamp or the ink of the postal register. Each time I think of letters sent by post it makes me feel sad.

Speed chats and instantaneous electronic mail -- it's all overrated.

I prefer scratch marks, erasures, drawings, scribbles on the margins, smudges, and stains and the still mesmerizing nature of the fact that a few pieces of paper traveled over vast tracts of land or vast seas carrying only the sunshine and pollen of ideas. From one mind to the hand of another. From the hand to the mind.

Letters that once made us laugh and pout and weep. But this is all about another story and I need to go.

Thanks for dropping by. #

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Saturday, May 19, 2007

Beijing Drum and Bell Blues

This is a post I wrote in mid-May which got stuck as a draft. This is what happens when one waits for other pieces of the post, such as pics, to be downloaded then uploaded... Thanks for dropping by.

On a rooftop in a Beijing bar right now, the imperial city's drum tower is on my left, the bell tower on my right. The sun's still up though it's almost sunset. It's the fourth day of blue skies, which should count as a minor miracle in this storied city. Four days with nothing but color leaping out, like the red lanterns on Ghost Street at night, only brighter and shimmering and with the constant hum of the wind.

Mid-noon, we vow not to touch any alcohol. We've been drinking for a couple of nights straight and waking up early for tough work sessions. We're a bit spent and feel our bodies deserve healthier substances. So Angus orders a capuccino, Sze Ping asks for a mojito and I order a margarita. He and Angus are having a meeting and I am concluding my notes to an article I am putting together for a chapter in the book I am trying to write, while listening to the soundtrack of The Legend of 1900, which came from Sze Ping's shelves. Any of you ever seen that movie? Once you watch it, it won't leave you ever, especially the music which you won't be able to hum to but which you will instantly remember once you hear it again, as if it's curled up under your skin. Any of you ever watch the movie?

Below our rooftop place, a shop away, is the bar where music from the Ningxia region is played live most days of the week. I was there in March, with Sze Ping, Keung and Kontau. I remember that it had snowed suddenly then, a heavy kind of rain which floated down hastily. I had rabbit and wind-dried donkey then along with Xinjiang figs. Sze Ping had given Luna a yellow tiger and we had a great drunken snowball fight while dancing around in freezing dirty sludge, laughing like children, and we were, no doubt we were. I managed to capture on my phone, a short clip which I showed to Rio and Luna and Kala and I'm still wondering how I can upload it -- I've never posted anything on YouTube.

I remember how the kids laughed at the video clip and how they asked why the camera seemed to move around so much (blame the forty beers we consumed that night). I miss as I try to write something on the computer, while the second margarita is steadily gaining sway over my senses, and I'm thinking this spot is such a nice place to post a blog about the kids, and the days and nights we spent on top of a hill in Puerto Galera, overlooking the sea, a cove, a cliff with crows and all manner of birds moving about, everything visible from the high terrace, the turqoise sea bottom in particular. Luna was playing an invisible guitar and Rio was reading book 2 and book 3 of the Quadehar Chronicles, and Kala was just going ffrom magazine page to magazine page, in between naps. We spent the afternoon at a small infinty pool wiht a bar which we'd light up at night, the kids quaffing chocolate drinks and Kala and I sipping beer and bottles of sake from the square wooden glass and pitcher that Patti Liang had given me sometime ago. And when it was all done Kala and I would open the bottles of red wine from Argentina, Chile and Australia that we had stowed away. The stuff had piled up during the long long April and May campaign push, and it's a good thing that vices come in nifty packages like bottles and stuff which can fit in one's bag.

Behind me, there is a short discussion in sing-song exchanges punctuated with raucous laughter. A gang of young tipsy Spaniards had just paid their bill and sounded as if they were trying to decide where to go next, and in front of our table a Chinese couple were writing down missives in their journals, slyly looking over their shoulder and at one another, as if they feared someone like me was watching and following the motion of their pens.

I wouldn't know what to call the scene. I wouldn't know what else to do right now, except to smile at the cool breeze and the leaves that litter my computer's keyboard and to order another margarita.

Maybe in the next post, I'll publish the pics. It's been a nice day. Slow and yet reckless.

Thanks for dropping by. #

NOTE: There was something wrong with the camera as it somehow made our bellies bulge. This of course does not conform to physics and is a mere post-modern fiction of some veiled future. And if it were real, the only one with a real big tummy is the guy in black. He's a good buddy o f mine, Sze Ping, but he has the larger stomach. This is a historic photo actually. A rather painful one. But only the trio in the last pic know why...

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Friday, April 06, 2007

REGARDING CLAY
Pagbibilang ng dahon

On the left is a clipping of a newspaper published in Negros Occidental in 2003. The news item was about a gathering of colleagues from around the world. On the left-most is Arthur Jones, primo Ilonggo love doctor and ping pong grand prix champion. Next to him is Arturo from Mexico, followed by Valery from Belgium, JP from the US, and Laetitia from France. On the other end is the fine Louise Frasier from Australia standing next to Ateng who is standing next to Sven from Germany. In the middle is Mrs. Linda Untal who, along with Elay Jacildo, is among the most respected leaders in the great historic town of Pulupandan. Beside Mrs Untal is Dave of the Netherlands, then myself, and there is Sze Ping, who I first met in this meeting and who swiftly became a good friend before everything else.

Seven days after the photo was published, the US invaded Iraq. Time flies.

We walk through a world of information each day and we usually bring home just a clutch of soil in our pocket without realizing it. But there are times when we notice, sometimes right before we fall asleep but more often just before we wake up and we find the fingers of our mind kneading the clay of chance and contact.

The other week I was with Melai, currently working in Singapore. We had a great time and met in Little India near the place where I was staying. Had katong laksa -- superb stuff -- then visited Chijmes, a square of bars inside what used to be a church which we found too religiously tame. Melai and I proceeded to Clark Quay, which was noisier and more boisterous and built with a towering War of the Worlds, alien-like mesh of odd-shaped canopies propped up by humongous tripods. It was humid despite the cool air being blown by huge fans hidden inside the tall steel pillars and to cool ourselves off we decided to have a few pitchers of beer. At Hooters. We had such a great time Melai and I forgot to take pictures.... Susmaryosep. Naparami kasi inom namin. Buti na lang saksakan ng saya. Gaya ni Melai, matagal na rin akong hindi-naba-bangenge. Isang linggo na yata.

Before Singapore, I was with a great class of students headed by my good friend Prof. Bernard Karganilla of UP Manila, an experience which washed away a growing stain of cynicism. It is more and more unusual for young folks today to be aware of much less very interested in the roots of the underdeveloped condition of their country, or the sad truths penetrating increasingly desperate families and individual lives. Most of Bernard's students were studying the medical sciences, which normally leaves little time for leisure, much less education. But there they were, talking lucidly with refreshing calm and intensity. I had a great time with them, though I wasn't so sure the audience was as positive. I'm happy some of them found it ok too. Here's an account of the encounter from Monique, one of Bernard's students. It even mentions Wilson, a friend of mine who also moonlights as a cricket ball searching for Deborah (the name given by Amy Cui, a good friend from Hong Kong, to the lady ball that Wilson has yet to find).

The other night, I was watching a movie and having some rough hooch when I just burst out laughing. I realized I was humming with the drunken crowd on the screen singing I'm forever blowing bubbles, the anthem of the Upton Park faithful, better known as followers of the West Ham United Football Club of London. I haven't seen the Hammers play live yet, but a good friend of mine has and he's the one who taught me the song. I may see him again next month if I'm lucky and we can scream out the song after the appropriate mingling of pints.

I'm forever blowing bubbles, pretty bubbles in the air
They fly so high,
They reach the sky,
And like my dreams they fade and die
Fortune's always hiding,
I've looked everywhere
I'm forever blowing bubbles, pretty bubbles in the air
United! United!

Time flies back. Back to words. #

Top image: Arthur, Arturo, Valery, JP, Laetitia, Mrs. Untal, Dave, Red, Sze Ping, Sven, Ateng, Louise, from the Visayan Daily Star, 13 March 2003. Middle picture was taken by Red in a cave in Vietnam. The last pic obviously from the Hammers.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007


WORD POWER
The Family Files

He was vaccinated years ago against the clucking pesky pox but this just goes to show there's no guarantee against such diseases. Me, my notes were ready along with the folders for the chapter I'm working on. Plus, I had my bike, Goran Apache, all cleaned up and oiled and raring. It was time to visit the family haunt of Kala and I was planning on doing the sloping Bani to Bolinao to Anda route twice or thrice during the Holy Week in between writing, but no dice. Not this time.

The kids are staying home and so are their parents. Instead of romping on an isolated, quiet island, we'll be re-potting plants and installing lilies and tidying up desks and papers while filling up the cooler with rum and soda and beer and planning nothing and everything and wondering aloud whether there's really a reason for everything while the kids dig in and make do.

Luna -- she wants Bamboo Kamatis games, pastel crayons, tubes of paint and a kiddie pool as compensation for her sand-less penance. And Rio -- he wants more Game Game of the Generals board play, more puzzles, books and drawing paper. Unlike Luna, however, the big boy is going to have a children's version of Satur Ocampo's ordeal and he'll have to dig scores of mental trenches to prepare for his temporary house arrest. Surely, however, like Satur -- and hopefully Crispin Beltran -- he should be free too in no time.

Meantime, at least, everyone will have words to play with during this amusing chicken episode, which is something to look forward to, actually. Luna's terribly funny when she's funny, which is most of the time, and Rio's a funny one when he's serious.

Luna likes experimenting with gravity the most by standing and balancing on a chair's arm rest, skiing on wet floors, knocking down a vase or bottle here and there and falling from whichever bed while testing her grip on the bed sheet. Right now, she finds her mum's stationary bike funny, looking like an imp cycling furiously and then all of a sudden doing an X-gamers flip by holding the bike's grip and pedaling over and over with just one foot (it's really impressive, believe me). All the while she's laughing at her great feat.

Her brother, on the other hand, his humor's a little different. He loves bottom-dwelling slapstick and high vocabulary. All the words of Rio's eight years in this world count, and sometimes he does make me feel as if he is twenty years older than his age.

The other day, for instance, after his grandparents finally refurbished their old bathroom, Rio the Critic walked into the room and looked around and delivered his verdict: "The bathroom looks excellent Lola," said the serious boy with raised brows. "If you add a bathtub, it would be superb."

Rio gets into silly word fights and word games with Luna and they laugh and laugh till someone gets really plastered by a great joke and they end up giggling and wondering who started the exchange. Usually.

Rio loves his sister's words. One day Luna ends up really sad because she wants Molly Desia and no one can give it to her and the whole house spends the whole morning figuring out which doll she's talking about. Turns out she was talking about Mall of Asia. We get to the place by the afternoon and she's already looking for rideos (videos) and combip (corned beef) and stomes (stones) and for some reason wonders aloud during the long ride to the humongous place, "Tatay, I think we should use our brains. If lose our brains people will eat us because they think we're tocino (sweet meat)."

Here's funny wisdom. One day at the market Luna sees on display the different parts of the dead animals that we eat. Head, ribs, legs, innards. She gives a pull on her mum's hand and tells her, "Mama, that's the head of a pig. Why are we eating piggy? Piggy is good. We should eat lamok [mosquito] because lamok is bad."

When you try to talk to Luna seriously, she usually returns the favor. Rio and I were chatting the other day about his exams after Luna and I picked him up from school. Luna, of course, would rather that her boys talk about her and so she walks straight into the conversation and proclaims that she loves exams herself along with homework. So I asked her what she's been doing in school lately and what they've been talking about in class. She shouts "Opposites! Kahapon it was opposite day!" Unwittingly going on Gullible's Travels, I replied, "Hey! How interesting!" I ask her, "Ok, let's play a game on our way back to the house." Luna shouts with delight, "Yey! Sige! Sige!"

Tatay says: "Ok! Luna, can you tell me what is the opposite of cold?"

Luna: "Squid!"

Rio and me: "Wha!?" Five seconds pass.

Then Rio asks: "Luna, what is the opposite of tall?"

Luna: "Giant squid!"

Obviously, we just walked into her world. Fool that I am, I try again.

"Luna, you have a little plant in the garden di ba? Besides water, what else does a plant need to grow?"

Luna: "Uhm... Chewbaca!"

At this point, Rio just loses it and only stops laughing at his dad after twelve years.

Rio's a funny one too. His sister keeps playing all these games on everyone and one time she tried to taunt her brother by saying his brain was like water. "Blue ang brain mo!" to which Rio replied, "Orange ang brain mo!" then Luna shouts back "Yellow ang brain mo!" then Rio says "Brown ang brain mo, like pupu!" which only delights Luna who replies, "Pink ang brain mo!" and Rio uses his powers and says, "That's right, Luna. A normal human being's brain is pink. But your brain is indigo." Luna says, "Huh?" and Rio rolls his eyes and walks away smirking.

Another time Luna is playing with Kala and Luna tells her mama, "Didn't I come from you before, Mama? I was super small when I was a baby and didn't I come from you?" Then Rio Spoilsport wades in and says in a monotone voice, "Yes, Luna. You were in your mother's placenta and you were once attached to her umbilical cord."

The Kamuning Republic was supposed to have headed to Pangasinan last Sunday morning, but Rio got sick and he's quite pissed at his germs and looking glum on his second feverish day I asked him how he was doing and I think he thought, boy what a question, so he answered "well, the last few days I've been talking to Leukocytes and giving them pep talks and so on." I nodded seriously and smiled the brave comprehending smile while thinking to myself "What in tarnation is this boy talking about?" Then his mum comes in to help dumb daddy and explains "Your son's just talking about his white blood cells."

Leukocytes.

Man, I shoulda answered "Giant squid!" #

BACK TO RED's MAIN PAGE

Photo of Kala and Red taken from the excellent Balai resort of Boy Siojo in Anilao, Batangas. It's a really great place, quiet and with a great cliffside view of the sea. Email Red if you're interested so he can patch you up with Boy's place.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

SCANNING THE MIND
Nagbibilang ng dahon

The image on the left is the cover of Personal Fortune, one of two magazines published by the Philippine broadsheet Business Mirror. I don't write for the mag but it's posted here because this edition carried an article titled No Vanity Project, which is a review of my book The Poverty of Memory: Essays on History and Empire penned by Robert JA Basilio, Jr. You can read the whole review from his blog, along with other good stuff by clicking on this. Right now Boojie's blog has an interesting quick take of Author's Choice, a collection of essays written by Kerima Polotan, the third edition of which is published by the University of the Philippines Press.

The Polotan collection is a fine book. It shows one face of the craft of writing, when style is as fluid as the writer's chosen subject matter. Basilio grabbed a snippet (an excellent choice) from the book and offered it to his blog's visitors, which is worth reposting below. Essential truths my friends:

"I THINK a man begins to lose himself when he forgets he once walked around with holes in his socks. It's that kind of remembering that keeps us all earthbound, vulnerably human, and vulnerably happy. Frayed socks, empty rice bins, leftovers on the table, second-class movie houses, coffee in cheap restaurants, and so on. Want, or the memory of it, not satiation, keeps our nerve ends sensitive."

What do you think?

See, one paragraph can be worth an entire book. Or sometimes a line or two can be equal to a whole encyclopedia: "Naglilinis ako ng aking kwarto / na punong-puno ng galit at damit," sings Ebe Dancel and Sugarfree in their previous work. They have a new album now, which has really made me think -- the trouble with genius is it keeps a frustratingly high standard. No problem though with Sugarfree's new album, Tala-arawan which simply measures up and even breaks new ground, but please don't wait to read my take on it (I'm still swamped and trying to hammer out a page or two of a new book and my schedule's so messed up). Just take my word for it, it's another classic Sugarfree story with this new album. Just go and get Tala-arawan for yourself and find out for yourself what it's all about.

There's a reason why artists like Ebe and Cookie Chua sing with their eyes closed. Listen to them perform live, and in Ebe's case with Jal Taguibao and Kaka Quisumbing, and discover why.

What's the point in all this? Am not sure myself. It's like ransacking the den of pending articles, which is a deep, dark and lonely place, where all the words speak in whispers and nods and blinking eyes. You reach a corner and the first thing you tell yourself is that it's time to leave. I've had a scanner for four months now and no thanks to an insanely packed schedule, this is the first time I've actually used it. It's crazy and interesting at the same time. I've already scanned some coffee bags today (I'm a hopeless pack rat) and old theater tickets and maybe tomorrow I can finally scan some recent paintings and post them. Nice. Let's see what the aquarelles look like after scanning and digitizing. Back to writing.

Thanks for dropping by. #

Sugarfree photo from EMI Music Philippines

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

HAPpy BIRTHDAY YAMMi!

Photo: My sister Karmina does Ben Stiller's Blue Steel face... Pic taken either by Noel, or by herself... Her birthday falls on Valentine's day. Lucky her. She was a top ANC anchor till December 2005. Then she got married and went on an adventure with her husband Noel -- tall as an Ent but without any bark or leaves -- and their adventure has so far taken them to Pennsylvania and other solar systems. She's still a practicing broadcast journalist actually (now with The Filipino Channel in the US) and is also the youngest daughter and kid of Dudi and RC. However, if you ask two wise-cracking tykes, her best qualification is that she's a good silly buddy and giggle-mate. More of the two kids' view below, along with their present to Yammi...




IT's YAMMi's BIRTHDAY!
The Family Files

Karmina's turning 21! Not...

I asked the kids what they plan to put together for Yammi and lo and behold, they put together a nice present...


Their present for Yammi?

Rio and Luna spelled Yammi's name with giant leaves!

I always thought the last letter was a 'y' but then Rio said yes it was actually a 'y' but he wanted to make things different so they can use their leaves differently.



Oo nga naman.



So here it is for Yammi, a heart on a hot air balloon (like a fruitcake making the rounds during the Christmas holidays) and the special present, her name in leaves -- an organic gift to a good organic friend that the kids miss greatly.


Happy birthday Yammi!



And happy Valentine's Day.





We hope you and Noel are doing well.

More pictures later, promise. Abu! #

All photos by Red, except for the heart on a hot air balloon, taken by Reg Hernandez from the recently concluded hot air balloon fiesta at Clark air field. Regman said this was his Labentayms gift to Red, da pinuno, Haring Tikbalang ng mga Space Invaders. How isweet...

Friday, December 15, 2006

REGARDING RC

Quite a few have asked me for more info, and actually there's a lot already spread out on the net regarding the issues at play for those interested to find out more, but still, maybe a sum-up's really in order. My apologies for taking a while. As the funny Jean-Claude van Damme likes to say, "I've beeen beeezzzeeee."

State bullying actually began months ago when news items seemed to come out in orchestrated fashion maligning people, including RC, with the implicit threat of more harassment, possibly graduating into open persecution. Malice was on display and to this quite a few things had to be said.

This was then followed by the threat of indefinite incarceration, a menace that remains very much in play to this day. Middle of November, rebellion charges were filed against RC and other figures openly contemptuous of the Arroyo administration such as former University of the Philippines president Dodong Nemenzo.

What does one do when one is charged with rebellion, which is non-bailable, by an illegitimate government? The last thing you do is to cower. You push back. Click here to read statements by RC related to the rebellion charge and threat of imprisonment as well as the machinations of the Arroyo cabal.

At the Dusit Hotel in Makati City last December 9, as drivers of the Charter Change train attempted to finagle the public once more with a repackaged project that intends to swindle the entire country, RC and Dudi showed up at the presscon of Joe de Venecia and spoke their minds. And then, of course, a wretched excuse for a gossip columnist, who has apparently wanted to play Cherrie Gil's Lavinia in the smash Sharon Cuneta movie hit Bituing Walang Ningning for some time, thought it was a nice opportunity to do so and promptly disgraced himself and the paper he wrote for in the process. Poor thing. If you want to see the original first-rate Cherrie Gil act, click here.

On live TV yesterday, ANC reported that Lavinia-wannabe's own paper initiated investigations regarding his unethical dealings, focusing on charges that the columnist has been on the payroll of politicians for some time. Lavinia-wannabe's response was interesting -- he virtually replied that his paper was infested with folks who were also on the take, coyly smiling and warning against the move saying "Well, baka maraming tatamaan." ["Well, maybe many will get it too... "]

In any case, first he was suspended for a day. And then a three-man panel of the paper was convened and he was suspended for a month. Lavinia's response? "A good soldier obeys his generals." Fair enough, except that one kinda has to ask the question as to who his generals are or rather who he is soldiering for....

Human rights icon and former senator Rene Saguisag, who maintains a column in the Manila Times, observed mischievously that "Now, Vic Agustin is seen as Joe’s man. Vic once told me that he received an envelope from Imelda Marcos during the dictatorship, containing P50,000. Contrite, he said he could not be on the take from Mike Arroyo given how he had lambasted the latter. When did Vic reform? This may be unfair to both. Suspected of being on the take from people he strokes, Vic suggests that he may not be the only crook in his paper. Oh, boy! Is he a blackmail artist? Vic, let it all hang out, para sa bayan."

Truly time to spill the beans...

On the news today is the announcement by De Venecia et al that they are backing off on their rape attempt, also known as Con-Ass, a move that Gloria Arroyo commended as "an act of statesmanship." Only in the Philippines is a decision temporarily backing off from intentions to rape called "statesmanship." Beautiful.

Efren Danao, a columnist from the Manila Times, called RC's decision to bring their opinion straight to De Venecia et al as "the height of boorishness." The choice of words is interesting. On the one hand, Lavinia's very own paper called the water-thtrowing, silly show of fealty to people in the Dusit Hotel presscon -- who may be his real employers -- as "rude" and "boorish".

To be fair, from a newsman's point of view, Danao's negative reaction at RC's presence is understandable. The National Union of Journalists of the Philippines (NUJP) in fact eloquently noted that it did not " begrudge the journalists concerned if they felt that Mr. Constantino was out of line by speaking at a press conference they believed only the media were entitled to attend." However, added the NUJP, "to berate Mr. Constantino and worse, physically attack him for expressing himself is tragic. How can we, who invoke press freedom and the right to free expression in the exercise of our calling, even deign to prevent others, especially citizens who actually own these freedoms, from exercising these rights?"

The NUJP called Lavinia's behavior "ill-judged" and "unconscionable." Danao, though, did not comment on Lavinia's behavior and in fact even appeared to approve of it, which made it even more interesting. Danao's sentiments were echoed days later in a bizarre way by the journalist Amando Doronila of the Inquirer, who channeled an intriguing stream of venom entirely at RC, whom he branded a "militant leftist activist," an "interloper" and a "usurper" who was "out to create trouble" -- a "raging bull" who was on a "rampage," a "hijacker" out to create a "mob-rousing platform that had nothing to do with expanding public knowledge of critical public issues." Regarding RC's expressed view of Con-Ass as one of the most brazen attempts by thieves to swindle the republic, Doronila said: "polemical drivel."

And there was more bile to spew. RC "excels in shouting matches that pass for reasoned arguments," wrote Doronila. "His harangue was a monologue of abuse ... No citizen has a right to slander people whose views they don’t agree with." Right. Marcos was not a tyrant, a murderer and a dictator. He was just a powerful, opinionated man. There were no official thieves or rapacious cronies during Marcos' time; only vigorous and energetic presidential business partners. And so on and so on. Doronila even lashed out at the NUJP for criticizing Lavinia, with the newsman even going so far as to say there were and there should be limits to freedom of self-expression. Coming from a senior journo like Doro, the response is just yikes... This is the line that the NUJP had taken and which Doronila was pissed at: "Under no circumstances will we abide by any attempt to stifle free expression from which the freedom of the press merely emanates, especially not through physical means and especially not by one of our own."

Of Lavinia's conduct, Doronila could not even bring himself to call it a provocative act. For Doronila, Lavinia's fluid freak-out can only be "deemed to be a provocative act." Deemed to be. Susmaryosep nga. Doronila likened Lavinia's act as akin to "baptismal water poured on the head of a child being christened," [Diyos ko po], and went on to say that "Constantino was even more provocative in launching his tirade at the press conference." Ano daw?

Popular broadcast journalist and now also print columnist Arnold Clavio has a few things to say about context. "If you think about it," mused Clavio, "it was Mr. Agustin who actually had the right to be there. But in an interview on our radio show yesterday, he admitted that his presence was not borne out of any interest in Speaker JdV’s Con-Ass. He was there because he wanted to ask Manay Gina de Venecia if their DasmariƱas property was up for sale. So it was ironically the gatecrasher, activist Renato Constantino, who went there to speak against the topic at hand. If the press conference was not the proper forum for the uninvited non-media Constantino to denounce and berate administration congressmen for pushing their political agenda, neither is it the right venue for a real-estate transaction, 'no?"

Another Manila Times journalist, the veteran Dan Mariano, observed on the other hand that "Speaker Jose de Venecia and his House underlings are fond of describing their charter-change campaign as a bid to unite the country. Well, they appear to have done just that." The solons have united the public against them.

Of the effect of Lavinia's water-throwing silliness, Mariano had this to say: "Constantino, better known as RC, has developed a reputation for resorting to dramatic gestures in protest. Countless times he has been at the receiving end of police baton, tear-gas and water cannon attacks. The dousing RC and his wife Dudi got from Inquirer columnist Victor Agustin -- what were you thinking, Vic? -- wasn’t even a comparative pinprick.

"The righteous indignation at the con-ass lawmakers that RC expressed was just a symptom of the greater ailment that afflicts Philippine politics. The noble-sounding idea of constitutional reform has been revealed to be no more than a fix for the addiction to power afflicting many politicians."

Mariano in a subsequent column described the effect of the RC and Dudi's attempt to speak their mind succinctly: "Notwithstanding -- or perhaps due to -- the hysterical reaction of two newspaper columnists at Saturday’s press conference, Renato "RC" Constantino Jr. helped dramatize public anger at the majority congressmen’s bid to railroad Charter change through con-ass. In many blogs on the Internet, for instance, readers have been hailing Constantino as a hero." Jay, a reader and visitor of this blog, for instance, sent an email and wrote ""Hello Red. In behalf of my family, I just want to ask you a favor to extend our gratitude to your Dad. I just don't know what to say but thanks to him, for standing his ground against those clowns. I am so proud of him, sir!!!" Meanwhile, said Mariano, "the two columnists who tried to silence him are scored for what is publicly perceived as coming to the defense of the con-ass congressmen" -- an accusation that Mariano, a veteran of the sector who knows a sizeable number of media folks (including Lavinia and the other media member who screamed at and tried to prevent RC from speaking, the Philippine Star's Carmen Pedrosa), believes is unfair. Perhaps, but it is difficult not to think of Cherrie Gil when it comes to Lavinia. "In any case," Mariano noted, "the two columnists have done Constantino a favor by turning him into a martyr of the Cha-cha train."

Another Inquirer columnist, Manolo Quezon, had this to say in his column: "[F]orgive me if I was left unmoved by the sight of Pedrosa shrieking “Respect your representatives!” while Victor Agustin tried to hose down RC Constantino with the contents of a water glass.

"What was--is--there to respect?" Quezon asked pointedly.

Mariano shared an important perspective that is worth thinking about: "In quite a number of these media forums, non-journalists have been allowed to speak out by members of the working press, who value -- or at least, ought to -- free speech. Besides, such sidelights often add "color" to otherwise boring media briefings. Why do ordinary citizens like Constantino -- who actually used to write a column for, among others, the now-defunct Isyu, an all-opinion tabloid -- feel they need to interject themselves in press conferences? Rather than score these 'interlopers' for being 'out of order,' journalists should view such incidents as warnings that the news media have probably not been doing their job according to the public’s expectations. Far too many publishers, editors, reporters and columnists rub elbows with the high and mighty that they often lose sight of their real constituents -- the ordinary citizens who spend good money to follow the news in newspapers, radio and TV. These are the ordinary citizens who hang on to every word journalists write or speak in order to get a handle on what is happening all around them."

International Herald Tribune correspondent and blogger Caloy Conde suggests that actually, "a lot of columnists do PR work. This is mainly because of the nature of their medium: they opinionate and their columns are not usually subjected to the same rigorous standards (fact-checking, balance, fairness, “objectivity,” etc.) that news reports have to go through. In this country, about the only qualification for one to become an opinion columnist is the ability to regurgitate views and, in many instances, crap. (Readable crap, but crap just the same.)

According to Conde, this may explain "why PR agents and those who have vested interests and agenda to pursue almost always go to columnists firsts (though I have to say here, as we who spoke Visayan would say, puwera sa maayo). You think corruption among reporters is bad? Corruption among columnists is even worse!"

"It is so bad," Conde wrote, "that, in many instances, the PR guys themselves have become columnists. And there are columnists who sit on the board of profitable government corporations. Compared to the hao-siaos who knock on the hotel doors of politicians to ask for fare money, that is a pretty neat racket, don’t you think? And I’m not just talking about some two-bit, fly-by-night tabloids here. You can find these people in the largest papers."

Lots of truth there, but of course Conde does not mean everyone. And it is also quite an important thing to point out -- often people have the mistaken idea that the bad eggs come largely from the ranks of reporters whenever the subject of corruption in media is being discussed.

There are many who are still more than able to call a spade a spade, and Luis Teodoro is one of them. A veteran media tribune who currently writes a column for the Business Mirror, Teodoro exercised familiar restraint recently in the words he employed in order to describe the Arroyo administration and De Venecia Con-Ass gang: “shameless, abhorrent, brazen, despicable, wicked, vile, loathsome, malicious, self-serving, appalling, odious, repulsive, disgusting, detestable, depraved, base, nasty, insufferable, repellent, putrid, sickening.”

What do other bloggers think about the issues on hand? There seems to be a gazillion views out there and rather than wade through each one, which is what many brave blogging souls do but which I don't, I've just chosen a few that may indicate quite a few things or nothing at all, depending on where one sits. Actually, depending on how one sits or what one is sitting on...

Click here to find out writer Stella Arnaldo's thoughts on Lavinia's response to RC and on Con-Ass.

"What a lively, colorful, passionate country this is," the blogger Delio tells us. Delio had little to write about Lavinia but had interesting things to say about Pedrosa. Click here to find out.

Miko Samson's take on the issues is also provocative. Here's what Samson says: "Justifying Constantino's verbal attack on the speaker is an exercise in futility. He's wrong. Period. [But Doronila] Justifying Agustin's physical attack of sorts on Constantino isn't an exercise in futility. It's an exercise of weird thinking and, in my opinion, an utter lack of fairness. Question is, can we blame Constantino for being so angry? I can't, and I won't. I share a lot of his sentiments. I'd fight for his right to say them. His expression of them, however, is an entirely different matter. I won't fight for how he did it." Get the full post of Miko Samson's take by clicking here.

The view of the blogger Strychnos is clear and strident: "It’s about damned time for any self-respecting person to show his outrage with the unilateral havoc that the demons in the Lower House are wreaking. Were it up to me, I’d give the verbal equivalent of a pie-face to each and every motherfxxxxx one of those administration legislators. The consequences be damned. And if I get thrown out of the press conference for speaking my mind? Let me just echo this particular line: Middle finger is the flag that I wave when I’m silenced!

The lbogger who maintains the site called pinaysoloops-portia.blogspot.com proposes alternatives to water temperatures. This time, I can't help but wish that I was at the press conference. I would have gladly thrown a glass of water, make that scalding hot water, in Mr. Humpty Dumpty's face.

Eric the Grey One tells his readers his thoughts regarding the show hosted by Ces Drilon, after the Dusit Nikko Hotel Con-Ass press-con of De Venecia et al, with RC and Pedrosa as guests: Find out why Eric wrote "I'm glad I got to see the newscast last night" on his blog here.

Jobert Navallo also weighed in and explained his take on the water-aspect of the issue. "Renato Constantino, the unfortunate receiver of an instant shower, must have been rude to the point of being annoying in that press conference." His complete post is here.

What do RC and Vina Morales have in common? Blogger Benito Vergara gave each of them a piece of his mind. Read all about it here.

Sheryl Ebon cringed and jumped and gagged and her blog will tell you why. So find out what she has to say by clicking on this.

And here ends my attempt to do a media wrap-up and blog sum-up -- can't do it often; actually haven't done it all till now. Media wrap-ups and blog sum-ups play important roles in the opinion-shaping, information-sharing and oftentimes awareness-raising process that is actually just beginning to unfold in the online world. Some excel in such efforts; unfortunately, as should be evident by now, I don't. Interest in doing particular things of course plays a large role in all too many things -- and my interests lie in doing other things, to be honest about it. The hats I continue to wear simultaenously also means that time will not be on my side for a while. I had in fact just arrived from Kenya, and then found myself in Bangkok in a matter of days, when the Big Con issue had begun to heat up -- and I had just come from Vientiane when the Dusit presscon of the Con exploded. But taking a blog-stab at the issues is just too important and too close -- I know it's a week late, but like I said, there's a lot of things on the plate at present, and I'm not very good at putting these online things together in quick, neat fashion.

But still, hey, thanks for dropping by.


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Thursday, November 30, 2006

NOW PLAYING: The TUSKERS
The Friendly Files

For fourteen days I stayed with most of them, some even longer. Kenya just wouldn't have been the same without these flexible folks, without this fine rubber band. The first pic on this post is our tour van, that great kidney-and-boob-transplanter called the White Gazelle, equipped with Triassic-era shock absorber technology, with our valued driver and conductor S & M beaming for the cam their great reggae smiles.

The Tuskers on Tour -- it means big policy, high politics and low, small-minded humor, which, combined, can only mean one thing -- a good time.

So, in no particular order, here's a rogue's gallery to honor friends who matter, with a little bit of love and slander...

Beaming between Scottish Mhairi and Argentine Natalia is transnational Steve Sawyer, man of many talents and temperaments. He's been the chief climate and energy policy wonk of Greenpeace for sometime and was of course the head of the Greenpeace delegation in Nairobi, which also means Band Leader for the Tuskers (Steve's plays lead guitar). He used to head the entire global Greenpeace gang and in its heyday Greenpeace US, but he's really just a campaigner at heart (best job in the world), which is thankfully what his current post largely requires of him.

Mhairi says he's a pretty smart guy, and sometimes saying that feels like an understatement. If you're nice to him, he will derive for you in ten seconds the total projected carbon emissions of Kazakhstan if Lenin had lived to see Kyoto come into force, then multiply that figure with the total kilowatt-hours of saved electricity by Kiribati if half of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet melts, then divide that sum with the square root of vodka -- while he does his Stevie Wonder shtick.

To the awed, he's "Steve Sawyer", veteran sailor and fierce campaigner with a storied, continuing history of fighting the good fight. To countless friends and colleagues, he's plain endearing "Steve", repository of encyclopedic details and great stories (the number of letter 'e's in the middle of his name swells based on the quality of jokes that he comes up with). Sometimes he is also referred to as "Sawyer" -- which likely means he was or is in a grumpy state (and I've heard of times when "Captain Curmudgeon" feels more appropriate).

So here's a parting shot of Gandalf the White without the wizard's hat (my daughter doesn't think he's the Steve of Blue's Clues...) and I pray to Allah the wise wizard will have mercy on my poor soul for revealing his identity...

Kaisa Kosonen is a young Finnish woman who walks the straight walk, talks the straight talk, wears pretty pumps and speaks different languages, specializing in the language called The Alabama Drawl. In the UN delegation roster, she's listed as "Kaisa Maisa Kosonen", which sounds like she's a character from Harry Potter, and maybe she is...

Red-haired and with a first rate intellect (I have no memory of Kaisa ever laughing at the jokes of Dr. Carlos but she did follow his Travolta dance steps for a few seconds), she is fond of vegetarian sushi and that one lucky person she hitched up with in a tent who'll get to hear her bed time story about the use of many many strings long enough to wrap around your waist and strung with lots of bright orange beads...

This is Gabriela von Goerne. For someone who is really, really smart, she is probably one of the most unassuming people I have ever met. But I don't think any member of the coal industry in any part of the world will agree with me, especially after she almost single-handedly manhandled dirty industry lobbyists and their representatives in government in Nairobi.

Gabriela's mission in Kenya was to repeat a mantra in all the lobbies and halls she could find, and more or less it worked. Gabriela says: "No CCS in the CDM!" which means she's fundamentally against mixing Carbonara-Chutney Sauce with Chicken-Duck Macaroni (it's also No Carbon Capture and Storage in the Clean