Sybersoon

My job interview today was at NexC, whose local office is located in Northgate Cyberzone, Alabang.

The office was easier to find than I had anticipated. The jeepney driver at Alabang looked at me blankly when I said “Northgate,” but when I said “Cyberzone,” his eyes lit up. “Ah! Sybersoon!” It turned out to be practically walking distance from the Alabang jeepney terminal.

I was 2 hrs early, so I opted to tarry a bit in Alabang Town Center. I bought a new pair of sunglasses for just P189 (I accidentally sat on the old pair), then settled down in Starbucks with a mint latte and an e-text of the Baptist Confession of Faith to study while I waited.

40 mins before interview time, I returned to the jeepneys and told the driver, “Sybersoon!”

“Cyber” my foot. It’s a huge meadow, about a kilometer square, with two small buildings at one end. Fly, Philippine IT industry, fly! Thunk.

I got here a bit too early. Now I’m sitting at an empty cubicle, waiting for the interviewer. (I’m writing this into my Palm.) A bit nervous.

Later: The interview went quite well. Always bring breath mints to a job interview. Always. They served me well, especially after that Quarter Pounder.

McDo BF Toilet

The men’s toilet in McDonald’s BF is designed in such a way that if you are using the single standing urinal and someone opens the door, the whole restaurant can look in and see your back against the wall. What architectural genius. Next time, I’m locking the door.

Oh, and I ordered a Quarter Pounder™ with small fries and a Hi-C Orange™. Service was quick and prompt, no questions asked. ;-)

Reformed Baptist?

Okay… I have a strong Calvinist streak, and I believe in predestination, but I’m not certain I can really call myself a Calvinist. I have no problems with liturgical worship, and I’m equally comfortable with psalms, hymns, and/or praise choruses. I’m slowly being weaned away from mainstream dispensational eschatology, but I’m not quite keen on embracing an amillenialist or postmillenialist mindset. I’m not sold on covenantal paedobaptism, so I still continue to regard full immersion baptism for the professing believer as the biblical standard. I am moderately anti-Papist, but I believe the Catholic Church just needs a few major theological and ecclesiastical reforms to become a proper Christian institution again. I attend at a Fundamental Baptist church, but I do not accept the “Trail of Blood.” I don’t speak in tongues, nor do I laugh, roar, or bark. ;)

Does that mean I’ve turned into a Reformed Baptist?

Christian denominationalism. Sometimes it makes me laugh.

(And sa-ad mo-ovies… always make me cry-y…)

Not Cetrinets

BLEH. I just chewed two 500mg Vitamin C tablets, thinking they were Cetrinets. Ooohh, that’s sour. That’s reeeaaally sour. I should check those bottles first; I’d forgotten I’d refilled one of these Cetrinets sample bottles with generic Ascorbic Acid. Gah. I need to brush my teeth and get my salivary pH back up. Excuse me.

Travel Log: Bohol


12/27/01 7.30am : Flight to Cebu


Away messageManila to Cebu by plane, 1 hour.

I’m writing this on my handheld, from the window seat of the plane. We’ve just taken off from Manila, and it’ll be about an hour’s flight to Cebu.

This is my first time flying since 9/11. No, I’m not stone-cold terrified, in case you were wondering. I *am* a bit apprehensive. I normally enjoy riding planes, but recent events — including but not limited to: 9/11, the Brooklyn crash, and the explosive shoes — have made us all painfully aware of the dangers of air travel. Terrorism! Wake turbulence! Pressure pockets! Upper atmosphere radiation!

Bad airline food! Ugh. The flight attendants just handed out Presto cream sandwich cookies and Zesto “juice.”

Oh, time for the inflight “Bring Me” game! Stewardess stands at front of cabin. “Bring me a cedula! Bring me a passport! Bring me four 10-peso bills!” Yippeee.

… We’ve landed at Cebu. Just waiting now.


12/27/01 10.30am : Boat to Bohol


Cebu to Tagbilaran by boat, 1 hr 45 mins

We’re on the Cebu-to-Bohol passenger ferry now. The passenger cabin is large, airconditioned, and well-lit, almost like the plane we just rode this morning. I’m just glad I’m not seasickness-prone. The waves today aren’t exactly friendly.

They’re showing a Discovery Channel documentary on helicopters. Mom and Dad have gone upstairs to check out the open-air upper deck. I’m sleepy.

… On the upper deck now. It’s actually an open-air passenger area, with rows of seats. Covered, of course, so the sun doesn’t beat down. But there isn’t a whole lot of wind, since this is a rear deck, and all the wind is coming from the front. I think I’ll go back down.


12/27/01 5.00pm : Panglao Island Nature Resort


We arrived at the port of Tagbilaran, Bohol, around 11am. From there, we boarded a van which took us through town, across a bridge to Panglao Island, and to the resort itself. (did I say earlier that we would go by banca? I was mistaken.)

View of the beachWhat a delightful beach resort it is! Narrow paved paths run through lush tropical foliage, connecting a maze of quaint little bungalows and cottages, capped with pointed nipa roofs. The rooms themselves are cozily equipped, with aircon, hot water, and at my parent’s bungalow, a splendid patio and hot tub overlooking the beach and bay.

After a hearty lunch, we spent the afternoon sleeping off our long morning of travel. I opted not to swim, there being a cold, stiff wind blowing in. Tomorrow, the family will go out to Balicasag for a day of scuba diving. My brother has beamed me a Palm Dive Log just for the occasion.


12/28/01 11.00pm: Balicasag diving


Balicasag Island isn’t directly accessible from the resort; we had to take a van with our gear to Alonas, on the other side of Panglao Island. While Panglao Nature Resort is a nice place, Alonas is definitely where the watersports action is; a strip of small seaside resorts targetted at, and equipped for, scuba divers. A bit more rough and tumble in terms of accomodations, but certainly charming with the rural atmosphere of barangays and sari-sari/souvenir stores. There were also a couple of internet cafes, and most of the little resorts take major credit cards. Not too shabby for a little island, eh?

Me in my Starfleet diving suitWe loaded our gear onto the bangka, and headed out to Balicasag, 30 mins from Panglao Island. Scattered clouds and a stiff wind made for a cold dive, but once we were in the water and had moved around a bit, things warmed up a bit.

Dive 1 was at “Black Forest,” a steeply sloping reef marked with soft black corals which give the site its name. I saw a couple of parrotfish, a school of small neon-blue fish, and some nice fan coral. Um, yeah, that was about it. Then we surfaced, swam back to the bangka, ate a packed lunch, and fell asleep.

We did our 2nd dive about an hour later, at “Marine Sanctuary.” The water was colder, and murkier, despite a mild current along the wall. Several other dive groups were there as well, and between all the bubbles, the cold, the murk, and a funny taste in my tanked air, it got a bit disorienting at first. Not fun. Still, there was some pretty sea life: a striped zebrafish with expansive fins like open hands, a venerable old stonefish encrusted and drowsy, a surly little clam which clammed up at the slightest touch, and a circling school of friendly jacks which followed us along the reef wall.

Post-dive on the bangkaAfter this dive, we decided it was too cold and cloudy for another one, and opted to head back to the resort.

I like the resort community in that area a bit more. Though somewhat rough and tumble, there’s more room for sport, spontaneity, and improvisation, as compared to the shielded hotel environment back at Panglao Nature. Plus, the beach at Alonas is nicer.


12/29/01: Bohol tour


I’m writing into my Palm on the resort tour bus. The countryside is typically Filipino provincial, lush and verdant, equal parts thick jungle and sprawling rice fields, dotted with villages of small concrete houses and nipa huts.

Site of the blood compactCrossing the bridge to Tagbilaran now. Huge mangrove plantation. We’re heading now for the “blood compact” site, where tribal Filipinos and Spanish first made peace. Getting down now … Okay, I got pix!

There’s a town here called “Alburquerque.” Heh. Oh, now they’ve shown us a local blacksmith, where they make bolo knives from old car parts.

Now approaching the town of Loboc, deeper inland. Lots of squat palm trees sprouting from muddy ponds; it’s from those swampy fronds that nipa is made.

A tarsierNow we’re going to see tarsiers! … Okay, back on the bus now. I got to hold on to a few; or rather they got to hold on to me. Tarsiers are tiny monkeys, no bigger than a fist, with long tails and big round eyes. They hang onto branches and tourist’s arms with dextrous, spidery fingers. Cute and friendly when tame; rather bewildered, they jump from branch to branch with startling speed.

Now we’re going up the winding road to the Chocolate Hills, and passing through a manmade forest of mahogany trees planted by students in 1958.

Within sight of Chocolate Hills! 1,628 round grass-covered hills, formed from the gradual erosion of coral-encrusted limestone formations, sprawling across 3 municipalities. We’ll be going up the highest hill, which is equipped with a viewing deck and canteen.

Chocolate Hills

…Okay, we’re back! The hills are much bigger than I thought, averaging about 100-200 ft high. It’s a beautiful view from the summit deck; large, round hills in all directions, stretching as far as the eye can see. In the valleys between the hills lie cottages and rice paddies. At this time of year, though, the hills are well-watered by the rain, so the barren brown color from which they derive their name is replaced with the green of fine grass.

According to our tour guide, the Chocolate Hills were so named when an American compared the conglomeration of mounds to Hershey’s Kisses. The name stuck. Am I the only one struck by the colonial irony of one of the Philippines’ most famous natural landmarks being named for an American food product?

On the busAfter Chocolate Hills, halfway to the next leg of our tour, the bus broke down — out of range from any landlines or cellsites. Ever resourceful, our tour guide flagged down a passing provincial bus, asked the passengers if they minded the company of a large group of tourists, and herded us on, children and all.

We got off the bus to board a large covered raft docked along the Loboc River, furnished with tables, chairs, and a meal of grilled chicken, eggplant, and shrimp. As we lunched, the raft headed upstream, pushed by a small motorized banca. About 30 minutes upriver, when most of the group had finished eating and were just enjoying the scenery along the riverbank, we arrived at a set of small, picturesque waterfalls, called “Busay.”

Resto-raftThe raft tarried there for a bit, while we took pictures, and a few of the kids swam. Then, it was a swift ride back downstream to the dock, where our newly repaired bus was waiting.

From there, we stopped at a hotel in Tagbilaran to buy snacks and souvenirs, before heading back to the resort on Panglao Island. That’s it. It’s time for dinner in the resort garden, under a full moon, with the voices of the Loboc children’s choir serenading us. :)


12/30/01 2.26 pm: Bleh.


Something we ate yesterday did not agree with us; half the family, myself included, was downed by severe stomach cramps, vomiting, and diarrhea. Hence, I spent the whole morning in bed, groaning from cramps, and standing up only to go to the toilet.

I feel much better now, if a bit cross, and am eating rice porridge in the breezy hotel restaurant. I still have a fever and headache, and will need to pass the rest of the day in bed.


12/31/01 7.44 am: Not delightful


Feeling better this morning, but still a bit queasy.

Did I call this resort “delightful” a few days ago? Perhaps not so entirely. Between this nasty stomach flu, the shower in our room that refuses to run hot water despite numerous calls to housekeeping, constant power interruptions, and the lack of any room for improvisation outside of hotel facilities, I don’t think the place is as much an idyllic paradise as I thought it was. The scenery’s great, the staff is friendly, but some of the facilities are getting on my nerves.

I think that next time, we may be staying in one of those smaller diving resorts along the Alonas beach area.


12/31/01 10.56 am: Heading home.


On the ferry now, heading back to Cebu. It’s the same helicopter documentary showing, again and again. I’m getting really tired of Apaches and Hinds and Notars and Blacksharks and Ospreys. I’m going upstairs. Within sight of Cebu now.

My brother tells me diving wasn’t too great yesterday, what with it being cold and overcast.. Perhaps all the better I didn’t go.


12/31/01 4.02 pm: Landed.


A colorful planeBack in Manila! I’m spending New Year’s with my family, then it’s back to work to tie up those tenacious loose ends.

And so ends my December Bohol trip.

Day after Christmas

It’s the day after Christmas. I’m home from home, rested and unpacked. Now I shall take a few minutes to blog before I head for the office.

To continue where I left off last night, we woke up Christmas morning to a breakfast of lugaw (rice porridge) with various Chinese condiments (e.g. pickled seaweed, spiced cucumbers, mahu meat powder). Then we gathered around the tree to tear open our gifts. I got three nice polo shirts, five handkerchiefs, a lavender-oatmeal body bar, a rather large flashlight, a Palm IIIxe from my parents, and a pack of WriteRights from my brother.

Yes, that’s right. A PalmIIIxe. Oh-ah.

I’m quite glad Dad liked the VCD I authored for him; an MPEG-1 transfer of our Palau dive trip. For Mom, a backpack for her camping and hiking trips. For my elder brother, a shoe hanger/tote and a Jim Chappell CD. For my younger brother Raymond, a new Verve Pipe CD, and for my younger younger brother Javi, a Bench belt and a game: Thief.

The rest of the day was spent tinkering around with our respective presents and resting up, while Mom presided over a gaggle of maids in the kitchen, whipping up roast turkey, cranberry jelly, pesto, buttered corn, and other savory dishes for a Christmas party at home. At around 7pm, relatives from Dad’s side began arriving; the same people we had visited the night before. It was quite a fun night, which I spent mostly speaking with Lola again, and watching my cousins and uncles and aunts and nephews and nieces run around or play cards or generally sit around and talk about things (action dependent on age group). Later on, we capped off the night with Christmas Karaoke. I sang a pretty good “Yesterday” and “Sound of Silence,” if I may say so myself.

I slept late because I typed out that blog entry last night, and I spent about another hour fiddling with my Palm under the blankets. I’ve transferred my whole phone book in there already.

I need to get to work now, to tie up all the loose ends before the company officially closes shop in January. Early tomorrow morning, I’m meeting up with my family at the airport for our diving trip in Bohol.

Merry Christmas

It’s not Christmas in this hemisphere anymore. :( But I know it’s still Christmas morning for you folks in the US, so Merry Christmas to you over there. :)

It’s been a pleasant holiday for all. Christmas Mass at my Aunt’s was okay, and I was quite edified by Father Unson’s homily, where he covered the basics of the Incarnation with a surprisingly biblical viewpoint: that God became man to atone for our sins and save us who had no merit. Quite a pleasant message for this ex-Catholic to hear from a Jesuit priest, and I thanked him heartily for it after the Mass.

(Fr. Unson — not sure of the spelling — is current campus chaplain at Ateneo Grade School, and is quite a fun priest to share dinner with. Interestingly, when I told him I was an ex-Catholic Evangelical Baptist, he said, “Of course not! Once a Catholic always a Catholic!” Hmmm. I wonder what he’d have to say about old Martin “Anathema” Luther? ;)

After Mass, we stuffed ourselves silly with lechon (roast pig), jamon (ham), balut (stewed duck embryos), goto (rice porridge with pork tripe), ensaymada (sugary cheese pastry), and other horribly unhealthy fattening holiday foods. I spoke at length with my Lola (“Lola” is Tagalog for grandma, by the way) about a variety of things, from the ravages of sickness and age, to reminiscences of her teenage years during the Japanese invasion in WW2.

We got home and dropped off to bed at 3am. More later, because I’m blogging this from my parents’ room, and they want to sleep already. Good morning, and Merry Christmas!

At the name of Jesus.

Christmas Eve 2001

Christmas Eve! Quite often, it is on this night that I feel even more Christmas-y than Christmas Day itself.

I’m at home now (family-home in Greenhills, that is, not my apartment-home in the south suburbs), having arrived earlier this afternoon by taxi. Tonight we’ll be going off to my aunt’s place for Misa de Gallo and Noche Buena, along with the whole Ordoveza clan on my Dad’s side. (The family is Roman Catholic. I’ll just be sitting quietly during Mass, very assiduously NOT doing the sign of the cross. Yes, I’m a bad little evangelical Christian fundamentalist. At least I’m not breaking statues. ;)

Problems, though. Dad’s car stalled at the mall, and he’s still there, so our departure has been delayed a bit while the car gets repaired. In the meantime, here I am, just blogging away from my parents’ room while Mom catches a nap.

*******’s folks have already opened their gifts. I got her The Lives of the Kings and Queens of England, knowing how much she loves early/medieval European history. However, I cannot for the life of me understand why her family always opens their gifts on Christmas Eve. Presents are meant to be opened first thing Christmas morning, after Santa Claus has passed, right? When do you people open your presents?

Wait, just a moment. I can’t believe I’m blogging on Christmas Eve. Well, since Dad isn’t here yet, I’ll just turn on the telly and see if It’s a Wonderful Life is showing anywhere. Hmmm… Demolition Man is on HBO. Uh-huh.