Hip to be square

The value of reading has been inculcated in me at an early age. Both of my parents like to read; my mother liked books while my father was more of a newspaper and magazine guy. Since learning to do it (at age 4) I’ve always been a voracious reader. I like reading books and magazines equally. Both give me pleasure; books stir my imagination while magazines please my eyes. Unlike my taste in books (which is somewhat confined to certain genres & authors), I like all sorts of magazines.

In the past, Filipino magazines were either showbiz-oriented (Kislap and Orig), journalistic (Free Press and Philippine Graphic), or a combination of these two (Liwayway). Then there were the “women’s magazines” like Mod and the Sunday supplements of newspapers (Panorama). I read them all with equal fervor. I even liked leafing through issues of ‘The Watch Tower’, the publication of Jehova’s Witnesses because the illustrations are so exquisite! That was the only publication that showed Jesus Christ as a truly virile figure, unlike that renaissance-era depiction of Jesus with the lanky body and lazy eyes. But I digress. What I’m just trying to say is that I like reading magazines. I like the way that most of them contain a multitude of information while maintaining some sort of cohesiveness, a wholeness.

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to work in a magazine, even when I was a boy. Now, before you start to draw parallels between me and Justin (pictured), that delightfully fey boy in Ugly Betty, let me end it now. I mean, if Justin met me when I was his age, he would’ve totally dismissed me as pedantic as the other boys in his neighborhood. I can only wish that I had his sophistication when I was a boy. That would’ve saved me a lot of grief (not to mention fashion faux pas galore). But no, the only reason why I wanted to work in a magazine was because all the places magazine seemed to have access to. Of course, this would change as the years went by, but that was my starting point.

The closest thing I came to working in a magazine was in 1997. A year before that, by some weird stroke of fate (I’m a registered nurse who’d been working for an NGO), I got a writing job for a popular news magazine show in the most popular (subject to debate by its rival) broadcasting company in the Philippines. Of course the show was basically fluff in the true sense of the word (though rating well, it never got any award during its airing period) but I had a hell of a good time there. The pleasure didn’t last, and I resigned the next year. A friend recommended me to an editor of a newspaper and not long after I was desk editor for the lifestyle section of said newspaper. The pay was good and the hours were excellent! To top it all, Manny Pichel, my boss, was the nicest boss one could possibly have. I looked forward to putting the Sunday edition of the section because it allowed me to flex not just my writing skills but my artistic muscles also. The Sunday edition was not a magazine but it was 16 pages of pure design delight. But alas, like all good things, my employment there did not last. It was cut short by a workers’ strike.

After that I went back to the NGO sector. Over the years, friends who were working in magazines encouraged me to try it once again but I never did. Development work has claimed me entirely. Although my inclinations remain the same as my expertise is health communications. Now, 10 years later, I find myself facing a new opportunity to finally make (one of) my secret dreams a reality. A friend has approached me to be the editor-in-chief of a magazine that his company will publish in two months. Cleverly called SQUARE, this magazine targets young people in Cambodia, providing them with information that they want and need in a cool, fun way.

My friend’s company is a small, start-up company with high hopes and energy. The post is not as lucrative as my current line of work (it’s not even full-time as of now) but it is a welcome addition (and diversion) to my present work load. I immediately became interested from the moment he brought up the subject. I quickly imagined Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada. Although, much as I liked her in that movie, in truth, Manny Pichel is more my template on how an editor should be. Today we had a brief meeting on what he expects from the magazine. Already we have many ideas on what to do in terms of content and design. He is currently setting up a space that would serve as the office and assembling the editorial team, and we hope to have our initial meeting by next week.

The title of this post is in honor of the magazine, but the title “I’m So Excited” would’ve been appropriate as well!

If you don’t know me by now

Idleness makes me do unexpected things. I found one of these quizzes while blog hopping today and I took this particular test because I have an irrational fear of zombies (along with clowns and mascots). It is embarrassing to admit this, especially when people know me as a big fan of horror films. But it is true, zombies terrify me. I had always imagined what I’d do if I were put in a situation similar to George Romero’s films. Well, this quiz certainly answered some of my questions. The other quizzes that I took will basically describe to you the kind of humor that I have and like.

Try some of them and learn something about yourself. Enjoy!

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Counting down the days

It’s almost 2.30 in the morning and I am at last alone in the house. My friends have left an hour ago, leaving me to tidy up the kitchen a bit. I just took a quick warm shower and I’m writing this before I finally go to sleep. Outside I can hear the steady patter of rain.

Today (Sunday) is the end of the long weekend that comprised the annual observance of ‘Pchum Ben’ in Cambodia. By Monday life in Phnom Penh will be back to normal. My friends and I set out to do our own celebration of ‘Pchum Ben’ through a 3-day event that was held in my house. There was no clear structure of how we were going to spend the 3 days. What was clear to us was that we were going to try to have fun as much as possible.

On Wednesday I woke up early and cooked 2 dishes (Menudo Kapampangan and Ma Po Tofu) for lunch. Ted and Hav soon arrived, bearing a few cans of beer and white chocolate brownies. May-May followed after about an hour with her son Ethan, infant nephew, and her mother. When Dave arrived we set up the MagicSing karaoke microphone (basically a karaoke machine inside a microphone that you plug into a television) for karaoke. Luz arrived later to eat and join the karaoke. Then Wowie called me to say that her trip to the province was canceled so I invited her to come. She brought Dinky (the erstwhile DSWD secretary of GMA doing consultancy work here in Phnom Penh), who contributed a few cans of beer to our stash. They didn’t stay long, but they promised to come back the next day for some Arroz Caldo. The karaoke went on until early evening when people started to leave. May-may promised some baked macaroni the next day. Dave, Ted, Mother, and I decided to play mahjong. When Mother went home also, the 3 of us played mahjong until 12 midnight.

On Thursday I woke up around 10AM and after checking my emails, I made a quick trip to the supermarket to buy firm tofu. I then proceeded to make fried rice out of the left-over from yesterday and cooked eggplant and tofu in black bean sauce. May-May and her family (husband Glenn, son Ethan, sister Ana and her Baby, Mother & Father) arrived shortly before noon with trays of baked macaroni, roast chicken, snacks and fruit. Ted (who brought chocolate cream cheese brownies this time), Hav, and Dave followed suit and we started having lunch. Afterwards the MagicSing and mahjong were set up once again in the living room. I then started preparing the Arroz Caldo. Just as I finished cooking, Wowie and Dinky arrived. It turned out that they came from a trip to the countryside. They brought some mangoes and rice cakes filled with bean paste and bananas. Luz and her family (husband Rolly, sons RJ and Clark) joined later. By that time I was already immersed in the mahjong game. Later in the evening Nill and Marikit arrived. Marikit received a crash course in mahjong to become our 4th player and she won her first 3 games. Imagine that. The game finished at around 1AM. When they left, I washed pots and pans, swept and mopped, and took a long hot shower. I managed to sleep around 3AM.

On Friday I woke up at around 12 noon. I checked emails and did some writing. May-May had gone back to work in spite of the holiday (she works in a restaurant). Ted called in to tell me that he had woken up late also. I started cooking (fried rice again and chicken macaroni soup) around 3PM. Luz arrived around 4PM but had to leave shortly because of a prior engagement. Marikit and Ted followed at 5PM but Marikit left at 6PM to go to church, promising to come back. While waiting for her, Ted and I just sat in the kitchen chatting. Marikit went back from church and soon Dave, Nill, Romyr, and Eng arrived also. While they were eating, we set up the mahjong game. The players on that night were me, Ted (with Romyr as substitute), Dave, and Marikit (with Nill as substitute). The game went on until almost 2AM and I slept at around 4.30AM.

On Saturday I woke up at 8.30AM when my mother called from Manila. I could hear my housekeeper in the kitchen as I spoke with my mother. My housekeeper was probably wondering what happened to the house while she was gone. After the call I tried to get back to sleep but managed to doze off for a few minutes only so I just got up and went to my computer. I actually started writing this post but opted to finish it at a later time. After eating a simple lunch of Khmer soup and bitter gourd omelet I took a shower. My masseur (courtesy of Marikit’s spa) arrived a few minutes after 2PM and I got a 2-hour massage that relaxed me immensely and relieved me of the fatigue that I was feeling from 3 days of working feverishly in the kitchen like I was possessed by the spirit of Julia Child and hosting up to the wee hours of the morning as if possessed by Martha Stewart. Whew! Just writing that last sentence felt tiring already! Tito Bobot (my favorite uncle) called from New Jersey at 6PM and we had a long chat about his recent cruise to Italy, Greece and Turkey and our travel plans to Manila. Marikit, Nill, Romyr, and Eng dropped by at 9PM for another late night mahjong game. As I expected (for reasons I will not disclose here), Dave was a no-show.

And now, back in the quiet of my house, I write these words to recount the last few days. My friends and I have accomplished what we had set out to do. Spend the holidays having fun: eating,  singing, playing games, and hanging around. It was an effort, true; but well worth it. Though I’d been relaxed by the massage that I got, staying up late again has brought some of the fatigue back. I probably will have to sleep early tonight. Try to get another massage on Monday perhaps, if I still feel spent.

It’s a good kind of fatigue, though. It’s been quite a long time since I’d opened my house to my friends because of my busy schedule. Good thing I have taken a break from work. I also like the way my friends appreciated the food I prepared for them. I love to cook and the greatest complement a cook can get is (apart from the rave reviews) the sight of empty pots and pans where the food used to be. I may not be the greatest host; but I make up for it with the food I serve.

I am so looking forward to staying late in bed today.

Something to talk about

This morning I realized that it has been almost 3 weeks since I last posted something. Two-Tongued Poetry, my other blog, seems to have suffered the same fate. I have since recovered from the protracted episode of insomnia that I chronicled in my previous post without resorting to narcotics, thankfully. I like to think that the bananas, the warm evening baths, and glasses of hot milk finally worked their magic rather than believe that insomnia itself grew tired and released me. I (finally) put the finishing touches to projects that should have ended a long time ago but didn’t because of the remarkable slowness of some people in this big, bloated machine called the Cambodian civil service. Despite these, however, I still found myself unable to post anything. I felt like I had nothing to say. Good thing that period is over.

I spent the past weeks working on things around the house: scrutinizing the work of my hapless housekeeper to make sure she’s still doing her work the way I taught her; plotting the placement of photographs and artwork that I had framed; re-arranging furniture in the living room; inspecting shelves and cabinets–basically being a domestic control freak (as opposed to being a working control freak). I could feel my housekeeper tensing every time she sees me coming close to any furniture.

My free time allowed me to visit and hang around a friend’s new home and another’s new office, to have lunches and dinners outside, and to purchase the latest titles at my friendly neighborhood (pirated) DVD shop. I watched 5 seasons (2-6) of Will & Grace, 2 seasons of Criminal Minds, a season of Supernatural, and a bunch of new films.

I went to Saigon to shop for things that I needed to fill the ‘balikbayan box’ that I had shipped to Manila last Friday. I had bought my fill at the Russian market here in Phnom Penh. However, after 3 years, I felt that I was bringing nothing new from Cambodia. So after buying bed covers, table runners, silk bags & scarves, branded surplus shirts from Cambodia’s garment factories, silver betel nut boxes, and wooden figurines, I decided to go to Saigon for ‘new’ things.

Dave and I took the Sunday morning bus (Sept. 30) and spent Sunday afternoon and the whole of Monday shopping at Bentanh market and Saigon Square. Bentanh market is a cleaner version of Russian market; you can find everything here–from shirts, bags, home decor to food and flowers. I bought embroidered tablecloth, wooden figurines, lacquer bowls and trays, designer-label shirts and knock-off bags, things I have not brought home.

Back in Phnom Penh, the next challenge was organizing these things. Being the control freak that I am, I wanted everything labeled and listed properly so that there is no confusion should my family open the box without me (I am ambivalent towards spending Christmas in Manila this year, but that’s another story). After wrapping the fragile things properly and labeling each item, I realized that the box is still not full. I appreciated my Tita Emy, who for 20 years have continually sent 10-15 boxes a year to Manila while working as a nurse in Saudi Arabia. Her boxes were always brimming with things; and my single was nowhere near one of hers. To fill it, I put my old and unused clothes–shirts and trousers–which I had always failed to bring home because of baggage restrictions.

This weekend my friends and I organized a party–something that we used to do regularly but failed to do this past year because of hectic work schedules. The heavy rain that fell prevented many people from coming but still close to 50 people managed to attend. For the first time in months, I partied and flirted and went home late and drunk. Yey! 

Today is the first day of a 3-day holiday called ‘Pchum Ben’ where Cambodians visit pagodas (Wat) to commemorate dead relatives and ancestors. Kind of like ‘Todos Los Santos’ in the Philippines. Kimrun went with his family to Battambang, their home province. A bunch of my Filipino friends are coming over to my house for a tournament of sorts. Our master plan for the coming 3 days consists of playing Uno, Boggle, and mahjong, competing for the highest scores in karaoke singing, and eating. Some friends have pledged to bring some pasta, baked goods and drinks. I meanwhile, intend to cook Arroz Caldo, Menudo, Buffalo Chicken Wings, and Chicken Sopas. More about it next time.

Of course, I squeezed in time checking my mails, messages, and blog-hopping. I am aware of the furor among Filipinos caused by the med school remark in Desperate Housewives and another joke in Jon Stewart’s show on CNN. I have seen both videos and I don’t want to join the fray just yet. Right now I don’t see the point. If my view changes it will be reflected in this blog.

Glad to be back, dear reader.