Thursday, March 05, 2009

Who is the Filipino? Anthony Bourdain asks

If you're vegetarian or from PETA, skip this post. You've been warned!

Food master (chef, author, TV host) Anthony Bourdain finally visited the Philippines and the show was on last week (and it took me this long to post about it because my new Nine West shoes and new Gucci bag totally distracted me!). Vince and I love his show "No Reservations" because we loooove food and any show that tackles food is a good show! Anthony's is different from most because, unlike most people, he has a very open mind on food and he tells it like it is, so if he says it's good, you betcha it's good. And if it's bad, I'll take his word for it, too. Other hosts are such huge fans of their own food (usually bland) that they can't appreciate the cuisines of other cultures.

So when he came over and said that our lechon, or roasted pig, is the best in the entire world, well, I assure you that a lot of pigs will get roasted as Pinoys all over celebrate the fact that Anthony Bourdain just proclaimed our lechon as the "Best. Pig. Ever!"
I just want to say that, while "No Reservations" is a food show, he tackled one mighty question: Who is the Filipino? It really bothered Anthony that if our food's so good, why isn't it on the culinary map? Why aren't we promoting it and pushing it because, to him, the few dishes he ate were some of the best-tasting stuff he's ever had. Hell, yeah! Pinoy food forever! In fact, our food is so good, Filipinos are fast becoming a nation that desperately needs the best diet pill ever! Tee hee.

Anyway, this is a very serious question that applies to all aspects. I've had the opportunity to meet many foreigners. When the hosts of "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" visited, they were surprised to see how fashionable Filipinas are, which begs the question: Why aren't Filipinos on the fashion map? Some American and European friends of mine who've been to many beaches and diving sites all over the world visit the Philippines and get so flabbergasted at how beautiful our shorelines are, which begs the question: Why aren't our beaches--the very best in the world!--in the travel books? And so on and so forth.



(this is just the first part of 5. Please watch the entire show)

Watch the show as Anthony and the Pinoys he interviews grapple with this question. This is the comment I left on Anthony's blog:

"Our identity has always been debated on. Everyone says we have none because--like you said--we are too nice and struggle to please and be integrated. But underneath that, there is a Filipino identity, very subtle, but we recognize it in each other as soon as we step out of the country. Like you said, Filipinos are nice. And everywhere in the world, if you meet a friendly, smiling, eager-to-please, kind, happy, funny, all-suffering person, I bet my life you just met a Filipino.
"And I want to add that the Filipino identity is wrapped around food! Why do you think your show has so many Filipino fans, it makes you nervous? =D As long as it's about food, Filipinos will devour it!
"

If you're Pinoy, stand up and be proud! And let's have some lechon while we're at it!

*photos from Anthony Bourdain's online journal

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Orange I glad I got a Gucci bag!

British Vogue:
InStyle:
Current hot movie of the month:
Everything hot pink, sunny yellow and bright orange is back! So, of course, I dug through my closet and found this old dress I bought from Karimadon about three years ago for a mere PHP500 (USD10). Don't you just love fashion? Never throw away anything because trends just keep coming back!

Now that my screaming orange dress is hot hot hot, I wore it to the most exciting day of the week...

When I finally got my limited edition Gucci shoppers bag! There's only 100 of these babies around the world, and I got one! Yippee!

The bag comes with an 18-carat gold plated bag tag. I'm removing it, though. It attracts too much attention.

I won this delightful prize with my blog post on the movie Confessions of a Shopaholic. The contest was sponsored by Columbia Pictures, Walt Disney Studios and Nuffnang Philippines (here I pose with them happily). Thank you so much! Now off to shop I go!

Saturday, February 28, 2009

This really saddens me

If People magazine were to be believed (and they're usually credible), Chris Brown and Rihanna are back together.

I am horrified but I'm not surprised. I was also once in an abusive relationship. Everyone gets shocked when they learn this about me. Apparently, abuse doesn't happen to smart girls. Not so. Abusive men start off being really wonderful—they shower you with so much love and attention, gifts and flattery. Really, you won't know what hit you. Pardon the pun.

In the first few weeks of being together, he would wait outside my classes and bring me to the next one. He was always around. He brought me home. Then he called as soon as he got home and we would talk on the phone for hours. I was flattered no end. Everyone said, however, that his constant presence was suffocating. I didn't see it that way. He was my constant. Full stop.

After a while of this ceaseless attention, I remember he started saying, "You shouldn't be friendly with your ex-boyfriend. It's not proper." So I stopped talking to the ex-guy since I thought the current one had a point.

Next he said, "Don't be too friendly with other guys. People think you're a flirt." So I stopped seeing my guy friends.

Then he said, "Your friends are such a bad influence on you. You really should stop seeing them." This one I resisted, but he wore me out with his constant nagging that I finally did stop seeing my friends. It was a two-way street. My friends, disgusted with me, turned away, too.

All alone now, I was vulnerable when he moved in for the kill. He started with little insults—"Only nerds wear glasses," "Your pimples are gross," "You're so flat-chested, you must be a guy." My confidence completely eroded, I believed him when he said, "I don't know why I'm with you when I can do so much better." He made me feel grateful that he chose to stay with me—ugly, pimply, flat-chested nerd that I was.

By the time we celebrated our first anniversary as a couple, I had no friends. This really didn't bother me since I had his love, and I believed with all my 19-year-old heart that that was all I needed. Never mind the daily insults or the smothering attention. Never mind the jealous rages or the crazy suspicions. After all, I not only believed I was ugly (and therefore deserved to be insulted), I was a hot-head myself so if he got angry at me, I must've provoked him. He sure made sure I knew that.

On our first anniversary date, we had argued over shawarma. He had wanted beef. I came back from the food stall (yes, our anniversary dinner was at a food stall) with chicken. He got angry. I got angry back. It became a shouting match. Unfortunately for him, I'm lethal when it came to words. Unfortunately for me, he fought back with his fists.

Then he fled—in his car, at 11pm, with my bag and wallet and asthma medicine inside. I was all alone in the dark streets, no money, no way to get home. 

After my initial shock and horror, I approached people for help. Everyone avoided me—skinny girl with a bloody lip, asking for money for a pay phone. Finally, a guy tossed me a P20 bill. It was enough money to get me home. In the jeepney, I didn't realize I was shaking violently until a guy offered me his jacket. When he wrapped his jacket gently around my shoulders, only then did I start crying. He asked if I needed help. I said no, I just wanted to go home.

I slipped into my room quietly. The bleeding had already stopped. The bruises will appear in the morning, although I didn't know that yet. I just crept into bed, exhausted and in shock. I swore I'd never see him again. Of course, when he turned up on my doorstep with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and the most repentant look on his face three days later, I took him back. He said sorry. He said it would never happen again. When I hugged him, he said softly, "If you only got the beef... Why do you have to be so inattentive?"

I stayed with him for three more years. I didn't tell anyone about the abuse. I was scared people would break us up. I told myself that loved him and that he loved me. I thought my love was big enough to change him. Yes, despite the many many terrible fights and bruises, despite the girls he had on the side, I stayed. I believed that if you loved someone, you don't walk away. Besides, I didn't have any friends. I was terrified of being alone.

When did I leave? We were at a mall and I saw him staring at another girl. I teased him that I could stare at other guys. He responded by hitting me so hard on my back that I lost my breath. He started pulling me to I really don't know where. We were in a public place so I began shouting at people for help. "Help me! He's going to hurt me!" People looked, paused... and then they all walked away. I heard them say repeatedly, "Don't get involved. It's just a lover's quarrel."

Despite the years of his abuse, it was only on that day that something in me truly died. I was alone, and no one was going to help me. At the same time, something in me—the old me—awakened. The old me had a nasty temper, the old me had pride, and the old me would never allow this asshole to treat me like shit. I stopped wasting my time asking for help and turned on him. He finally had to let me go because his scratches were bleeding. He ran away.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the end of it. We still saw each other. Less and less. We still fought, but now I fought back. Strangely enough, when I fought back, he stopped. He began seeing other girls. I took this not as a betrayal but as a relief. I also began seeing my friends again, who formed a fierce protective wall around me. Finally, we just didn't see each other anymore.

Do I hate him? No. Not anymore. It's been a decade. I'm no longer that scared little girl who allowed an insecure little idiot to terrify and abuse her. I'm also not stupid anymore. No one tells me I'm ugly or worthless. No one tells me what to think or do. No one can have that power over me again. I don't allow that kind of shit from anybody anymore.

Rihanna took Chris back because she loved him. She may also believe that it was her fault he hit her and that she deserved it. She may also believe that she can change him, that they can work it out. She also reportedly got a diamond bracelet as a gift—I tell you, these abusive men, they know how to give gifts. It doesn't mean a girl can be bought but a nice gift sure does soften you up. Will it end well for Rihanna and Chris? I really doubt it. But I'm not going to condemn her; I know exactly where she's coming from. She needs help, but until she realizes this, she's going to continue being abused and I hope to heaven that she comes out of this alive.



If you are in an abusive relationship, please get out now. No matter what he says or what anybody says, it's not your fault he hit you. Love never involves belittling, insulting or hurting. Please read this story and know that you're not alone in this fight. Please get help.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Destiny!



You are the reason that I breathe
You are the reason that I still believe
You are my destiny
Jai Ho!

No there is nothing that can stop us
Nothing can ever come between us
So come and dance with me
Jai Ho!

I love this song! Now if I can only learn the dance steps...

"Jai Ho" by The Pussycat Dolls, Oscar-winning song from Oscar-winning movie Slumdog Millionaire

Monday, February 23, 2009

Date with Kate

Kate Torralba, one of Manila's most celebrated young designers (and now the star of a Colgate TV commercial!), is a good friend. We've been friends since we were just starting out in the real world, as slaves to a lady senator I will not name. Kate and I call each other "foul-weather friends" because we only see each other when there's trouble. So it's not a bad thing to say that the rarer we see each other, the better!
Last night was not that kind of day, however. She was in town--an unusual event since she's always jetting off somewhere. And I also had to give her her Christmas and birthday gift! Ack! So off I went to her Greenbelt 5 store.

We window-shopped at Adora while we waited for our table in Cibo. I really adore the stuff in Adora but I don't adore the prices! I did fall in love with these chairs--I think they'll go well in my living room!--but, they're property of the cafe, so they weren't for sale.
At Cibo, I had my usual: pomodoro soup and chicken sandwich. Our dear friend JR Isaac, editor-in-chief of Circuit and society editor-at-large of Preview, joined us for dessert--a tiramisu sent over by Cecile Van Straten, Philippine Star columnist and author of uber popular blog Chuvaness, my daily guilty pleasure.
I enjoyed dinner very much. We talked about love, relationships, making money, prayer, God... quite fascinating actually! I really should go out with my friends more. This busy life is not very good.

Kate Torralba's atelier is at the second floor of Greenbelt 5, Makati City. Do visit her store soonest! She has an unbelievable anniversary sale till February 28--all dresses are marked up to 70% off!