Another slice of pi

Another link to Pi, is the movie Pi directed by Darren Aronofsky. I liked the film a lot. It's about this guy who is not obsessed with Pi, but in finding an equation that will predict the stock market. He is obsessed by this pursuit as well as some other folks, including Hasidic Jews who believe that his formula will also unlock the words of god, as a kind of numerology based code and another mysterious group who have their own mischievious plans. A geeky funny moment is when he upgrades his computer with some all powerful stolen processor chip, but computer geeks will recognize it as some cheap Pentium 1 chip. The movie is a bit of a thriller as you ponder where this powerful information will fall and whether it is worthwhile to discover such things at all.

When it came out in 1998, I actually wasn't planning on seeing it. But a college friend said that his brother, Matthew Libatique, was the Director of Photography. He's also done "Requiem for a Dream," "Josie and the Pussycats," and "Phonebooth."

the nameless be named

The nameless poet at Tamageneris is now named (Malaya T'shai) and is blowing me away! Check out the 3/27 hay(na)ku that incorporates the lyrics to "God Bless, America" with various other lines.

I am the number that is infinite

Chatty claims we often get the same answer on these quizzes. Though she may be the boundless infinity, I am the number with the inifinite string...pi!

In high school, there was a Pi festival, about as nerdy as you could possibly get with piE eating contests and a contest to see who could memorize pi to the longest string. For those of you who don't know, pi is the ratio of the circumference of a circle (the length of the line that creates the circle) and its diameter (the line that goes across the circle). For all circles, this ratio is the value of pi which is roughly 3.1415926..... This string is actually infinite (as far as we know) and thousands of mathematicians around the world are trying to count out pi for as far along the decimal chain as it can go! And let me tell you, if one of these folks ever finds that pi stops, the mathematical world as we know it might fall flat on its face. It's one of those things that if ever found, would send mathematician's heads spinning.

Unlike numbers like one half (0.5) or even one third (.333333333) which either end or go one forever with one number, pi does not. It's like the trail of birdcrumbs that people are following just to see if the road ends, thus as of this point leading them onto the road of infinity. As I recall, there was one girl at school who was particularly obsessed with memorizing pi, she correctly spoke pi to 300 digits. Talk about someone ready for med school!

There's something quite poetic about pi. How comparing two parts of a circle leads to a number with an infinite end, no precise, exact number to speak of, only an approximation. In that way, poetry does not have a precise end, though we may all start on the same blank sheet.

I am p Everyone loves pi _

what number are you?

this quiz by orsa

The Eagles are coming!

I got this press release over email:

PHILIPPINE EAGLE FOUNDATION
EXPERIMENTAL RELEASE PROJECT

LOGISTICAL DETAILS

Where and when will all these happen?

On March 30, Kabayan will be transported via helicopter from the
Philippine Eagle Center in Malagos, Davao City, arriving at Site B of
the PNOC Geothermal Reserve in Kidapawan City, Cotabato by 8 o'clock
in the morning. The bird will be immediately transferred to the hack
box upon arrival at the site. A short program and reception follows
after.

On April 22, a short program shall be held at 8 o'clock in the
morning before the hack box will be opened at 9am. Guests may take
their time to observe the bird at their convenience until the
reception at 11 o'clock.

Hack site conditions.

The hack site is approximately 75 steps through the forest from the
roadside. Rugged footwear and rain jackets are recommended. Site B
is approximately 1200 meters (3900 ft.) above sea level (the peak of
Mt. Apo is about 3000 m or 9842 ft.) with cool to cold temperatures.

The observation area is 10 meters away from the hack box. Everyone
is asked to stay behind the camouflaged blinds during observation.
The blinds run a length of 10 meters and will allow only up to 15
observers at a time. Peep holes measuring approximately 5 x 8 inches
will be cut into the blinds.

Members of guests' entourage are requested to stay at the Program
Hall. Please note that PEF's field biologists will also be at the
observation area to take notes on the bird's progress. Minimal noise
is requested so as not to startle the bird.

How to get there?

The PNOC reserve is at Barangay Ilomavis, Kidapawan City, Cotabato
and is approximately four hours' drive from Davao City. The road
from Davao to Kidapawan is generally smooth, while the section from
Kidapawan to PNOC is mostly gravel and is at a 45º incline in some
parts.

A helipad is available at Genatilan town (coordinates N 06º 59.44, E
125º 13.703), and is only about 30 minutes away from the PNOC
entrance gate.

Transportation from Davao City to the release site and vise versa
will be made available at scheduled intervals. Reservation is
required.

Access

The PNOC is a restricted access facility. Everyone is required to
forward the names and vehicle information (Make and Model, Color,
Plate Number) of their party to the PEF for processing of access
passes.

Philippine Eagle Foundation
VAL Learning Village, Ruby St.
Marfori Heights, Davao City

Tel + 63 82 2243021
Fax + 63 82 2243022

Save paper, email us at phileagl@info.com.ph
www.philippineeagle.org


====

This is a very exciting new development! I was lucky enough to go to the Philippine Eagle Sanctuary in Davao when I went in 2000. In the visitor's lounge you watch a video on what they do in the sanctuary. How handlers put on hand puppets to become the baby eagle's surrogate parents. Then while Joey Ayala's "Agila" plays you watch video of large eagles soaring in the air. The tragic part really is that the video is not of the Philippine eagle, it's the Canadian eagle, its not so tall cousin. The Philippine eagle is the tallest eagle in the world, standing at nearly 4 feet with a tremendous wingspan. It's also been called the monkey-eating eagle.

There were three eagles in residence at the time, two males, one female. The males cages were small, barely room to spread their wings out and certainly not enough room to fly. The female eagle had the larger cage, but only large enough to beat her wings once to reach the next perch. The size of the cages varied to the amount the corporate sponsor was able to contribute. This cage sponsored by Exxon, another by Philippine Bank. Their mother who was one of the first eagles stood taxidermied in a plastic enclosure inside the visitor's center. It was heartbreaking.

Being a large predator, they need expansive range and territory to survive. As the forests dwindle, there is not enough forest to sustain a population of eagles. Too bad the eagle can't adapt to urban life like some eagles and falcons in the Mission in SF that eat pigeons.

From the stories I've heard, the eagles used to fly everywhere. My parents remember a hurt one that took refuge under a house in the province.

I remember in the 80s when they started gathering California condor eggs to raise and then set free, and now some of them are raising chicks on their own.

As the top of the food chain, the eagles are one of the first indicators that the pyramid is falling. The Philippines is one of the most biodiverse places in the world with hundreds if not thousands of animal and insect species known to only exist amidst the 7,000 islands. This makes the release of a Philippine eagle into the wild that much more inspiring.

As I write this there's a sense of pride, of nationalism, of faith in humanity that maybe we're doing something right for this world for once.

Hay(na)ku! isa-dalawa-tatlo is addicting!

A new hay(na)ku devoted site...tamageneris!!! The author has been looking for a creative outlet for a while and found inspiration from the various hay(na)ku sites. Hey, even if you think you're more of a puwet than a poet, you can write a hay(na)ku!

Tamageneris' title is partially inspired by the Star Trek: Next Generation episode where Picard makes first contact with a species who speaks only in metaphoric reference to their various myths. One of the absolutely BEST episodes of the Next Generation series!

YES! YES! YES! more poetry in the world!

I am Caine

Picked up "Kung Fu: Season 1" on DVD. OK, though I wish they had put an actual Asian in the roll of Kwai Chang Caine, they did put in as many Asians as they could in that series. Watching the background interviews, they said that though they went through just about every Asian actor in Hollywood, there was no one they thought could do the part. Hell, even Bruce Lee barged into the producer's office hoping to score the role only to be rejected because, "they couldn't understand his English." I think it was more that they didn't think America was ready for an Asian male lead actor. Even today the major networks haven't put one on.

When they chose David Carradine, the Asian American community protested and demanded an Asian replace Carradine. What they got was request number 2, the show needed to get an Asian/Asian American historian and various other Asian expert consultants on the set. ABC didn't want to "offend" the Asian community. (which is perhaps why 20 years later they get an "Asian consultant" for Margaret Cho's "All American Girl," so Margaret would be a "real Asian," someone should tell ABC being Asian is not a formula.)

My all-time favorite characters were Master Kan (Philip Ahn) and Master Po (Keye Luke). Master Kan, the head of the monestary, always keeping a watchful eye on students, waiting for them to be able to take the pebble from his hand and Master Po, the blind master, who always called Caine, "young grasshopper."

And who didn't try to reenact the "walk the rice paper" and the "scorching pot" scenes? We tried to learn to step so no one could hear us, but our parents had ears like Master Po.

Kung Fu, prior to then, was not really known outside of Chinatown like many of the other martial arts. Though in the SF Bay Area, the Capital of Martial Arts, folks were slowly bringing the teachings outside neighborhood lines. So, these words like Tao, and Kung Fu, and chi weren't in most people's vocabularies.

The pilot episode centers around a railroad camp that Caine comes to work at. In one sense, I liked how the actors weren't forced to use some fake Asian accent to make their portrayal more "authentic," like Pat Morita did in Happy Days. The Asian characters discuss how they know they are being treated "less than human" and the harsh conditions of the camp for very little money.

"Kung Fu" did not have a regular writing crew. They picked up stories from wherever, but wrote all the temple scenes because they had the Asian consultants to write that.

Speaking of non-Asians playing Asians. I had watched "Hawaii 5-0." In this episode, Carlo Montalban played a Japanese man who had assumed someone else's identity during World War II because he had jumped ship on a Japanese submarine. I enter the show watching Steve McGarrett interviewing Montalban's character about his past. He talks about coming to the islands as a young man to the (sugar) cane fields and how when the US came to round up all the Japanese to be interned, he fled through the fields.

I kind of have mixed feelings sometimes about the shows. In one sense, they brought a lot of Asian faces to the television screen. (How many Asian faces did you see on Bay Watch Hawaii?) Yet, because there haven't been other shows, I wonder how "Kung Fu" in particular has contributed to the continued stereotypes of Asians on screen as the "Kung Fu Fighter" even though on the show, only Caine knew any "ancient" fighting moves.

Maybe when I'm able to snatch the pebble from someone's palm, I'll know that answer.

Friday on Sproul

Why do the hacky sack guys always have big ol' beer bellies?

Though I got to give it to them for having excellent hip flexibility and coordination.

lipstick and lashes

Barbara and Leny contemplate feminism and cosmetics.

Although it's a very rare occassion that I wear makeup (so much so that I simply rebuy makeup because I don't quite remember which purse I left the last stash in), it's not because I thought of it as a feminist thing to do. I'm just lazy. I also never really learned to do makeup properly. And at this point have worn makeup so infrequently that it irritates my skin. Perhaps I should follow Leny's lead into organic cosmetics.

I would watch my mother apply makeup before going to work. The only thing I really liked was the fragrant Chanel powder she had. I liked the fluffy cotton powder puff she used to apply it with.

The only makeup I could apply properly was for stage. Stage make up is easy because you just make sure to apply too much so the people in the back can still see how rosey your cheeks are despite the bright wash of light drowning out any skin tones.

So, it's ironic, is it not or perhaps simply the universe balancing itself out, that the SO loves cosmetics. He loves looking at fashion magazines and critiques Malou Nubla's makeup on tv. He's the one who wanted Barbies and cut out pictures from fashion magazines growing up. I wanted GI Joes and Transformers.

I've looked at one or two magazines, the ones where they show women step by step how to get certain looks. I read one article about how to figure out how to contour the plucking of one's eyebrows. It discussed how you use the edges of one's nose to mark where to start the plucking. Of course, the model's face in the magazine ends up perfect because she has this thin nose. Then I think, what if I apply this to my face or non-white faces where our noses are more broad then long. And it hits me, this is why there are some Asian women who look like their eyebrows are sliding off their face! These angles and calculations don't work on non-white faces. Hmmm...

Once, I had professional makeup done on me, at the SO's sister's wedding. The makeup artist was a transgender Pin@y with a makeup kit that could rival any toolbox on a woodworking show. I felt like a canvas as she mixed colors and powder applying with the most delicate brushes and even fingertips. She even did my hair, creating this skyscraper metal structure of bobbypins so my 6 inch hair could be a stunning up do. It was amazing! I didn't look like me and it didn't even feel like I had make up on. This, I thought, was the way makeup is supposed to be. No wonder if takes hours and hours to make models "look" a certain way.

I ask the SO, why women need really dark eyeliners and eyeshadow. He tells me, well, if you have blond lashes, you have no eye definition, but most Asians don't need that much.

I've come to watch over the SO's shoulder when he critiques the makeup of women of color who are on tv. How some makeup people don't know which colors to use to define our faces so we end up like a two dimensional sheet or excessively use glossy makeup that makes lighter skin shimmer but only makes darker skin look like ghosts.

A long running project of mine is to talk to Filipino make up artists to understand how they use make up to accentuate our beauty. Isn't the true art of makeup at times to look like as though one does not have makeup? The dream is to someday come up with new rules for creating our faces.

I've often had a problem with white feminism that says we have to give up the things that we like as women in order to establish our empowerment. I do understand how not wearing makeup, or shaving one's legs could be seen as a reaction to a time when all women were expected to do these things in order to look a certain feminine way. But 20 years later, women have a choice. Now that we actively choose to wear makeup or not, is the feminist act simply not wearing the makeup or is the feminist act the fact that we were able to choose what makes us beautiful?

Cloud Warrior


Your Energy is Purple. You are a visionary with
unmatched intuition and spiritual
consciousness. The mystical world and
unexplainable forces fascinate you. There
resides in you a true dignity and nobility, and
others see you as a worthy leader, and loyal
friend. You are often very mature, with a deep
understanding of human nature, and you will
instinctively encourage and guide others toward
their full potential.

You find it natural to express yourself
aesthetically and artistically, you may be
involved in the artistic professions, a
religious organization, or in activities that
have a degree of ceremony and ritual. You would
make a good therapist, healer, psychic, or
entrepreneur.


What color is your energy?
brought to you by Quizilla

---

The sillouhette reminds me of one of the stances in my yoga warm-up video. They called it "Cloud Warrior." Purple is supposed to be a very powerful color in feng shui. The combination of water/blue and fire/red to create quite a few sparks. I actually like purple, but only wear it sparingly, especially when I want to feel luxurious.

sing me to sleep

Leny lent me a copy of Chin Chin Gutierrez' "Uyayi" while I wait for my copy on order. Some amazing arrangements of songs on there from some very well established Philippine artists. "Sa ugoy ng duyan" with its saxophones made me weepy and had me humming the song all evening.

What's truly amazing about the set is that it's 2 CDs. The first, a new arrangement of 17 lullabies, the second nearly 33 lullabies and songs sung by the original contributors! Plus a short movie about the process she took in meeting and talking with these people in the journey of making this CD.

It's fascinating! I was listening to the 2nd CD when I heard a familiar tune, "Oh my darling Clementine!" But when I checked the song notes, it was a Maguindanao song called, "Papanok." The woman had learned this song from her grandmother. I doubt the words were translatable to "oh my darlin' clementine." Hmm...I'll have to ask someone who might know what she's singing about. It would certainly put this woman's grandmother at the turn of the century, when the Americans had made their way through Mindanao and made it to areas where even the Spanish had dare not go.

Filipinos copy, but they also make it their own. So, when they make something their own, is it still a copy? (Boy, that's a question a few people will be debating about in their dessertations for a while.)

sigh, nakakainis ang bunso namin

My bro, 21 years old, 4th out of 5th year in a major at UCLA that he hates, cannot come to grips with telling our parents, what he really wants to do in his life. Hell, he can't even really tell me what he wants, and I'm close to him.

He chats with me, wonders how I got to a point in the relationship with our parents, where it's fairly cool. I do my thing, they don't complain too much about it. I don't think he was paying attention when I was having the all difficult, tell-dad-you-don't-aspire-to-the-same-things-he-wants-from-you when I was going through college. Then again he was 13, what do 13 year olds care about.

It takes time and it takes talking. And right now, he doesn't want to talk.

So he's in th computer science degree and he hates it. And he's love the community and theater work and wants to do that for a living. hmmm...get a degree in computer science, then work in the community...this is train wreck with my parents waiting to happen.

I can see it happening. My dad will ask him why he doesn't get a job in computer science. My brother will say because he hates it. My dad will ask, then why did you do 5 years of it if you hated it. My brother will reply, because you told me to. And my dad will say, "I didn't tell you to be unhappy." Then my brother will be pissed to no end because for the last 5 years of his life, he was trying to make my dad happy.

My parents don't have a problem with community work. They just care if you can pay your bills and live in a safe neighborhood. If you can do that, they don't really care what you do. They want to make sure you're in a good relationship and that if you choose to have kids, you have the means to take care of them and raise them. How you do it, well that's up to you.

It's funny, growing up, our dad was quite the authority figure who planned out our lives, ensured that we were model students and pressured us to go for the best schools. He would not settle for anything less. But I soon came to realize that life was not so linear, and saw myself on this one way track that I needed to jump off of and in a hurry. My initial plan was going to physical therapy school. My father would cut out articles about physical therapy for me, about how it was the job of the future and that society would need plenty of physical therapists.

Then, I attended a seminar about what physical therapists really do and I knew then, damn, I don't want to be a physical therapist. The next thought being, I'm screwed! I'm 12 units away from completing this major that points directly at being in the physical therapy or sports doctor field and I don't want to do it.

I had other interests. I wanted to do community work. I wanted to write. I knew I didn't want to follow the footsteps of my classmates into selling insurance or being a "consultant" whatever that meant.

So, I figured, just get through this major and get out. So I did. It has a nice fancy sounding title, "Human Biodynamics" which my parents barely pronounced and had no idea what that entailed. They just knew I was out of a nice big prestigiously named university.

Soon after, I went to look for a job. I lived at home, I wanted to move out. To move out, I needed money. Seemed simply enough. To move out, I need to get money. I had some contacts at the university and used them to get this job on campus. It paid enough so I could save money to rent an apartment or at least a room. I didn't have to wear corporate suits or dress up much. It worked and satisfied my goals and needs for 3 years, then I got another job at the university doing something I like to do more, plus it gives me time to do the stuff I really want to do.

During those years, I learned how to save, pay my bills, cook for myself, do laundry. I'm still working on how to keep up with household chores and get orchids to bloom, but I got the major stuff down.

My brother wants it all. He wants the work in the community to pay his rent. He believes that his network and community will back him up if things get rough. (That's fine, more power to him.) And he wants my parents to understand how important community and theater are to him. Yet, he is too afraid to tell them this. And I ask him, then how are they ever going to know?

Both me and my sister had our "talks" with dad. The initial confrontational talk where we said, "no, we don't want to do this anymore." In our minds we thought he would freak out and kick us out of the house. But what really happened was more something like, "OK. Then what DO you want to do?" And that was really the scary part, we didn't know. All we knew is that we didn't want to do this (be a doctor/physical therapist). And when he asks that, you feel really dumb as if you've lost against your father.

Looking back, I realize, it's not a competition. Dad is part of our team. It's not us vs them. And as soon as I came to see them as people with fears and mistakes, they came to see me too. Dad only cuts out these articles about our degrees because this is what he thinks we want to do. And he thinks this, because, well, we hadn't yet had the courage to tell him, we didn't want to.

Somewhere, in our years at college, we changed. And we forgot to tell our parents that we changed. I realize now, they were only going by the best known information to date.

And though my brother is getting on my nerves in this chat we're having online, because he's really avoiding my questions, and I sense he's running away from his fears, and epitomizing his fears in our father, in the end, I know, it's something we all go through. Something he has to go through like one of those rites of passage.

Before we leave, I tell my brother, mom and dad for as long as they live will always get your back, you just have to tell them in which direction you want to go.

In the Doghouse

Evil Clown Pat has watched the movie "It" one too many times. You can read his semi-psychotic thoughts in his D.O.G. (Diary of Goodies).

Ah, yes, it's springtime

It's springtime, as the leaves push out anew, it's time to head for the garden. The Blue Kangeroo has hopped away in the night.

Here's an amendment for ya

The Watcher notes that the American Anthropological Society has a reply to President Bush's call for a constitutional amendment (Whatever happened to the Republican ideal of government staying out of people's lives?):

Statement on Marriage and the Family from the American Anthropological Association

Arlington, Virginia; The Executive Board of the American Anthropological Association, the world's largest organization of anthropologists, the people who study culture, releases the following statement in response to President Bush's call for a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage as a threat to civilization.

"The results of more than a century of anthropological research on households, kinship relationships, and families, across cultures and through time, provide no support whatsoever for the view that either civilization or viable social orders depend upon marriage as an exclusively heterosexual institution. Rather, anthropological research supports the conclusion that a vast array of family types, including families built upon same-sex partnerships, can contribute to stable and humane societies.

The Executive Board of the American Anthropological Association strongly opposes a constitutional amendment limiting marriage to heterosexual couples."

I read an article in SFGate about Belgium. Belgium and other European countries have already granted same-sex marriage or simply changed marriage to be called "civil unions" in order to offer equal protection to anyone who chooses to be in a union with another person. [Of course it's Spain and Italy resists the tide of Europe thanks to the Vatican.] Anyway, it was big the first year, then has dwindled a bit. There have even been some registered divorces as well. Looking back now, the issues of same-sex marriage aren't that big of a deal. It didn't tear at the fabric of society, the world didn't head to utter chaotic oblivion. People just live their lives. Isn't that we all just want to do?

it's all about the length

Jam up spam systems with the longest email imagineable at http://www.abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyzabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyzabcdefghijk.com.

Thank god for email address books. There is no way I'd ever remember that.

women and knives

Did a demo the other night for Berkeley's Pilipino American Alliance. It was just me and this other student, so I had to think of something creative to make our performance interesting. I usually don't do demos for the college students, but I liked the woman who asked me, so I did this one for her.

The idea of women and knives both entices and repels people. Men like the danger, women like the power. Men fear the power, women fear the danger. It has an interesting psychological effect.

In this demo, I wanted to show them that Kali is a Filipino martial art, not so much because we can trace it's lineage back to killing Magellan, because we really can't in the kind of anthropological dig kind of way that we would like, but it's a Filipino martial art, because we continue to reinvigorate that cultural energy into it. In part, I asked them to find the art that they know is already in them.

So we asked for one man, one woman out of the crowd to teach kali to, in 10 minutes or less. Tied a couple of malongs to their waists and threw them in there, not knowing where this experiment would go. Had the guy learn pari-check, a simple punch and deflect drill which he picked up really fast and got going really good.

I was paired up with the woman. She was jumpy, nervous. We practiced a bit of the pari-check as well, then I put a practice knife in her hand. Next thing you know, she's dodging, cutting, moving like a pro. Amazing!

The day before Tuhan had a seminar. He was telling folks there, it's not really about who your teacher is, but about how readily you are about accepting the kali and allowing it to enter you. In some ways, it's easier teachiing a pair of folks who have never done anything like this before, they don't have reservations about how to move or what something should be like.

The crowd cheered for their friends. We closed the demo with me sparring with sticks with my student as my malong was slipping off. Quite interesting to fight with one stick in one hand, and the other hand hanging onto the malong. And yes, I'd still win.

Got a new cousin

OK, so me and Patrick Macaraeg exchanged various family trees, and it seems we haven't quite figured out which branch of the tree we're on. It's either much deeper down the line (beyond great grandparents) or perhaps wider on the tree (2nd, 3rd, 4th cousins removed, etc).

But, since I already have so many cousins, it doesn't seem to hurt to add another one, even if we haven't quite figured out how we are cousins. Besides, his family is from a town down the road from mine, so we could at least be kababayan. Close enough. And, he's a fellow Mac geek, surely there's some genetic link there!

I was commenting to the SO, that my family takes just about anyone in. Family parties are not so excluded to family, but people as close to being family. Not only have they allowed boyfriends/girlfriends to tag along, but also just friends to be incorporated into the mix. Hell, more than one aunt has given refuge to their daughter's boyfriends. And I remember when I had a graduation party and had invited a friend of mine who is in a heavy motorized wheelchair, my uncles carried him and the chair up the 20 steps to my parent's house. He came this far, couldn't very well let him stay on the street. If you hang around the family long enough, you become a part of the family. They might even invite you along on a family trip.

Imelda

The Chronicle does a preview article for Imelda that is closing for the film festival.

Looks like the director is hoping to get it into the art house circuit by summer. That would be nice. I'd like to watch it again, but I don't want to spend $40, since it's the closing festival movie.

I think they were accurate in saying watching "Imelda" is like a train wreck. You know it's maddening, you know it's tragic (in many different ways), and you know how it all ends up, but you have to watch. She is the ultimate diva spin doctor. She puts Bill Clinton's teflon surface to SHAME!

I'm not sure how I feel about the director saying that she is like the Shakespearean tragedy. It seems to make it all much to romantic that what it was. I think in a play you can be romantic about tragedy. When a whole country is at the bottom of that tragedy, it's not so romantic.

"I wanted the documentary to mimic my experience with Mrs. Marcos," Diaz explains. "It started out as this fairy tale, then gets darker and more nonsensical."

Go, Pangasinan!

Well, I'm now working my way up the family tree to see if I'm related to Patrick Macaraeg. Even if I don't find a direct connection, I feel it safe to say that the connection is there somewhere. Macaraeg is not a common name. And, glad to hear Alex Trebek pronouncing it quite well. It's an easy name to just slaughter.

But, after that last post on looking for cousins, I find that Aimee is from Pangasinan too. Her mom, that is. Her mom is from way up past Hundred Islands on the west side of the Lingayen gulf, past where there is yet another statue of MacArthur standing on the shores completing his vow of "I shall return" in perpetuity rusting. Relic U.S. tanks guard the grounds of the provincial capital.

Carlos Bulosan is another Pangasinan writer. Pangasinan folks are creative types, at least the ones I've met so far. We also have a distinctive chin. That's what the SO says. (That's how I think we're related, Patrick, we have the same chin). We also have the best alamang or agamang as we pronounce it.

Several of the Philippine presidents hail from there. Though I'm not sure if I should be proud. We're certainly ambitious types. Current GMA and her daddy. Her mama is a Macaraeg.

Fidel Ramos is Pangasinan. When he was going to West Point here in the U.S., he stopped by my grandfather's cousin's house in the avenues in S.F. Auntie Adele's dad was a farm boy wanting to be Manila socialite in America. His house was Fil-Am socialite central in those days. When I researched a paper in college, his address popped up in all the Fil-Am community papers. Her dad wanted her to "meet" with this young military bound lad. Oh, how history might have changed. She ended up marrying this Fil-Am boy that didn't upgrade their social standing one bit. Nowadays, she croons 1920s songs to people in rest homes and is the designated den mother to a gay/lesbian church group for her retirement in Vegas.

Pangasinan is one of those provinces that just boarders 4 different languages and everyone in the middle speaks them all. That would be us. Ilokano, Kampamgpangan, Tagalog, and our very own Pangasian - the language (which some people call Pangasinensee or something like that) or the slangy term for the language, Pangalatok.

Pangasinan is actually pronounced like it has two g's (pang-gah-see-nahn). A lot of my friends from Pangasinan don't speak Pangasinan, it's one of the harder Philippine languages to learn they say. But we all know its distinctive sounds of the back of the throat nga sounds and the e's that sound like the u's in cut. So Macaraeg is pronounced mah-kah-rah-ug. With such a big family, I've been lucky enough to still hear it around me often enough. When I learned Tagalog, I realized my mother was switching between Tagalog and Pangasinan. Listening to her talk was like listening to radio with bad reception, understanding that fades in and out.

Learning Tagalog helped me learn Pangasinan by understanding what to listen for. Before it was all jumble-mumble. My older sister who didn't take Tagalog says she doesn't understand. But in truth, she does. Maybe not consciously, but instinctively.

ok, some quick all I know Pangasinan lessons:

latin niyo - where are you? where did you go?

inner - where? as in where is that place or object.

antoy ngaran mo? - what is your name?

shak met - me too

mangan tila - let's eat

ngarasen ak - i think means I'm tired. but also a reply to let's eat as in, "I'm tired of
eating"

bii - woman

laki - man

cho or cha - respectful title of older man or older woman.

wala - (and this is where the Tagalog speakers go nuts) - I have it or there is something here, the equivalent of meron in Tagalog. Which just goes to show, Pangasinan folks find something where Tagalog folks see nothing. We're just magical that way!

wadjai - it's here.

wadjara - it's here over there.

anggapo - is equivilent to the Tagalog "wala" of nothing.

talora - third/three

lima - hand (lima is five in Tagalog)

I know there are other words I know, like the word for second, as in "second child." That's how my mother introduces me.

I have this one younger cousin who was born here. She speaks and understands Pangasinan, being surrounded by it constantly since she was born. Though I was never able to learn it growing up, having had teachers who told my parents to speak in English. I've done what I can to tell my uncles and aunts to ignore the teachers who tell them that. You'd think teachers wouldn't tell people that anymore, but they still do.

During my birthday, a friend got my mother to sing a song in Pangasinan. Something she sang to us as children. It turned out the party was filled with Fil-Am Pangasinan folks, who don't speak it but have ears tuned to its melody. It was one of those moments I wish I had a video camera for. I can't remember the song anymore. But I remember the emotion. I remember how quiet we all got, looking off in different directions. The sound of the guitar and my mother's voice. They remembered the sound of family parties, of their mothers or fathers humming tunes. I remember the long slow breath everyone took after she finished as if breaking the trance we were all in. I would like to learn this song or at least record it even if it's the only Pangasinan I may ever know. To think, that the most touching thing I ever heard, was something I may never understand.

lladro

The Watcher posts this, a Lladro sculpture of a Singkil Princess and Umbrella woman. Only 1500 of them made. Started in 1981 and discontinued in 1995. Last US price $2400. hmm...I wonder if one of these will make it's way to ebay.

Tom Cruise swinging sticks on Oprah

Filipino martial arts is getting to be the "hip" new art in Hollywood it seems, from Matt Damon in "Bourne Identity" to Benicio del Toro in "The Hunted" and now it seems, Tom Cruise for "The Last Samurai" everyone is learning something about Filipino martial arts.

Just saw a promo for Oprah and they showed a quick clip of Cruise doing Sinuwali, which is a twirl done with two sticks. Suwali are the woven walls in houses. Sinuwali is the motion of weaving these walls, which I suspect the name of this twirl comes from. It's a common technique that seems to cross all the the forms and schools of FMA. Just about everyone does the doublestick twirl, including Tom Cruise.

the wisdom of 25th years

spent the afternoon today at the 25th wedding anniversary of some friends. before we wait, the guests all held hands and each said something about the couple. when it was the SO's turn, he says something like, "when we're married I hope we're like you." to which everyone gasps. funny, we had told most everyone there previously that we were planning our wedding, yet a public announcement like that sends folks spinning.

subsequently, people ask if there's a proposal or a ring. no, but we're working on that too. one friend said that after she and her husband had been dating for 4 years, she gave him an ultimatum. hmmm...i really don't want to go to that extreme and i don't believe i have to.

we watched as our friends celebrated with various friends many they've had for over 20 years, others only a handful a years. the warmth and love and generosity surrounding them from their friends simply reflected what they had given each other over the quarter of a century. a committment to building a life together.

one woman told a story of how A & H were married (the wife's mother was coming to town and they couldn't be "living in sin"). they went to glide memorial during lunch called a couple of friends to witness then went back to work. the funny part, is that the woman didn't remember that she was actually a witness to their wedding until A reminded her a few years ago.

they have several friends who are newlyweds. they're attracted to A&H like we are, they too want to be like them. A&H show that life is not always up, or fun, or happy, but it does keep going and they take each day they are given because they know that there will be up, fun, and happy times and not just times, but moments as well. and it's these moments that make life worth living.

after singing happy birthday to H, (it was her 50th) we have A&H cut the cake together and do the whole wedding cake ritual since they didn't do it the first time around.

it was a long afternoon, full of friends constantly entering their home, some they hadn't seen in years, but who know it's moments like these one does not miss.

if we didn't end up here at A&H's, we would have ended up spending the weekend with another married couple. a recently married couple who have been together as long as we have, but their marriage is historic, as one of the several thousand same-sex couples who were married at SF City Hall. we'll catch up with them next weekend.

we end up being one of the first guests to arrive and the lasts guests to leave. (we brought the extra chairs, so couldn't leave until the others left). H, though tired, said it was a very excellent day.

Before Their Words: Friday, March 5 - Jon Sims Theater 8p

This will be our second show at the Jon Sims Theater.

before their words (a work in progress) a collaborative, interdisciplinary, multimedia poetry performance that combines subversive, poetic narrative with indigenous pre-colonial Philippine cultural traditions and art forms. Utilizing indigenous Philippine dance (Singkil), martial arts (Kali), and music, the larger poetic narrative unfolds as the (queer) re-telling of the Philippine folktale of Sondayo, the village woman who battles the wind goddess to re-claim her stolen husband. Featuring Michelle Bautista and Nedjula Baguio.

For more info: http://www.jonsimsctr.org/maiana.html

For the love of books

I love books. I also love reading Asian American books. But they can be difficult to find. The Asian American Writer's Workshop is having a book sale. Free shipping on orders of $25 or more (kind of like Amazon). So, get your Christmas shopping done early!

---

Dear Friends of The Asian American Writers' Workshop,

The Workshop is not moving, we're not closed--that much I hope you know. But
more than 750 independent bookstores have closed in just five years, and we
are struggling under the same pressure of competition and increased costs.
If you want to hear the whole story straight from our Executive Director
Quang Bao on WBAI radio, you can visit http://www.asiapacificforum.org/
(click on archive section.)

So many of you offered to help the Workshop, and here's your chance:

PLEASE BUY A BOOK!

We're running a 5-10-15-20 dollar sale online, with free shipping on orders
over $25. Scroll through a wonderful selection of 50 contemporary Asian
American books, including children's literature. The sale begins today and
ends Friday, March 12, so be sure to check our website at
http://www.aaww.org/ And we'll see those of you near the Workshop on April
15 for the big party, Charlie Chan Is Dead 2, edited by Jessica Hagedorn.

Thanks for supporting us,
The Workshop

The Asian American Writers' Workshop
16 West 32nd Street, Suite 10A
New York NY 10001-3814
212-494-0061 tel
212-494-0062 fax
desk@aaww.org email
http://www.aaww.org/

Let the cinema begin

That time of year again for the Asian American Film Festival which starts tomorrow at various venues in San Francisco, San Jose, and Berkeley.

Highlights include Hero which although was big in Asia, was unable to get distribution here in the U.S. (I think it had to do something with some US company buying rights to an American version or something.)

Another film to watch is Imelda by the same person who did "Spirits Rising" about EDSA 1. I was lucky enough to get a preview a few weeks ago. They not only interview Imelda, but they also interview childhood friends, political prisoners, the guy who made all her outfits, former US Ambassadors and the like. It's really an amazing movie that allows the audience to explore the different views of Imelda and allows the audience to come up with their own view of her being careful not to overtly impose one view or another.

My Ninja for your Nun screens several shorts including Matt Abaya's Bampinay and Gayle Romasanta's Lock Jaw.

Music Video Asia features vids from Barbie's Cradle as well as Dino Ignacio's SkyFlakes video of the song "Bad Thoughts."

probably related to a Jeopardy champion

Was watching Jeopardy last night and saw a potential cousin, Patrick Macaraeg, kick ass! He's the current 3-day champion with over $80K. The guy's got guts. Was down by more than half, bets nearly all of it in the last daily double, then nearly doubles again in final jeopardy.

You can see him on the Jeopardy website and click on "see who's on this week" link. He even has a pretty silly promo for the Tampa Bay area where he's from.

So far, every Macaraeg (with an E) I've met can trace their lineage back to the town of Malasiqui, Pangasinan where every other person is a Macaraeg. Suffice it to say, I'd bet it all on a daily double that he is a distant kin of mine.

Harrah's, Harvey's, and whether Filipino identity requires one to be suffering

Harrah's buffet was way better than Caesar's. But no one tops Vegas buffets, then again, it's Vegas. So in South Lake Tahoe, Harrah's gets my vote. The Chinese food stinks, but the Mexican bar is good as well as the desserts.

Dinner conversation consists mostly of talking about family and how we are dealing with and interacting our partner's family. The Watcher is teaching Filipino Diaspora. She talks about her various students: the activist who wants an alibata/babayin tattoo but finds out her name doesn't really "translate" very well into the script, the devil's advocate who got pounced on by the women in the class for some of his comments about overseas workers, the one white guy that's left, the one white woman who is left, and the rest of them who swear they would have been poor if their families stayed in the Philippines.

She tries to be understanding an patient as many of them find their culture that goes beyond their mostly suburban American lives, and tries not to push to far too fast on topics and issues less they get carried away by the flood. I remember when I was their age. Culture and identity seemed simple. When it was simple I was angry. Now that I find culture a bit more complex and subtle, I can feel other things now besides anger. I can find humor and laughter along with the anger, but the anger is not so overwhelming.

Though the students have their varying opinions, none of them seem ready to deal with the notion of their priviledge in the U.S. The idea that to be a person of color or immigrant community requires one to be impoverished in some way. If my parents had not come to the U.S., I don't think we would have been all that "poor." I had "poor" relatives, but my parents were professionals who would have taken some upper management position or started a business. I imagine that my life would have been more upper middle class in the Philippines. There is a certain level of guilt with being born into the "good life" and how somehow this negates their claim on their Filipino identity.

The Watcher tells me of this one professor at the school who took on an exchange student from the Philippines. The professor was really surprised because they had thought that they would be able to show this exchange student the grand old U.S. by taking her to Disneyland and such. But the exchange student had done all that already. The exhange student had never done her own laundry, had never cooked for herself. The U.S. was truly an eye opening experience. Little did the professor know that her exchange student was the daughter of the owner of San Miguel.

Certainly there are poor people from the Philippines, but there are also very very rich people in the Philippines. And in reality, the poorest of the poor rarely make it to U.S. shores. Certainly, the vast majority of the Philippines endure poverty levels that barely allow them to afford food, much less shelter and the like. But it's a stretch to say that all Filipinos would have been poor if they had stayed. There are people who stay who have very good lives.

But when you're 19, these complexities of life are difficult to comprehend especially when they are tied to you wanting to claim a new identity. It's hard. Alot is riding on it.

10 years later I find that I can laugh more about being Filipino and Filipino culture. I can also be more critical and somewhat sarcastic, sometimes cutting. I can come to acknowledge and comprehend the complex facets of being Filipino. It's not a black or white issue. I don't have to worry about not being "Filipino enough" or getting labeled as being "too White," or "too ghetto (ie too Black)." It's no longer an issue.

In our conversation, we agree that the Watcher will not change their minds overnight, but the Watcher can plant seeds that will allow them to view the world with a critical eye. And all of them will hopefully find their own way through it.

Afterwards, back down to the smokey casino. I load a $20 into the slots. I haven't been much of a gambler. Family trips to Reno were usually boring for me. I don't get excited gambling. But I thought, what the hell, my dad and sister are often lucky. I watch as the wheels spin. I pull the arm instead of pressing the button. I watch as my coin totals go up and down. I hear others cash out some winnings. People have different techniques: there's the nomad, who wanders around putting one or two coins in a machine to see if it'll hit. Then moves onto the next one. There are those that play two machines at a time. Others who put in their money and immediately cash out the coins to put the coins in one by one. They like the tangible feeling of their money.

I decide my $20 is already gone and money I don't need as to assuade my guilt for losing $20. I decide to think positive and be happy for each coin that comes my way, even if it's only one. I watch as the totals go up and down, up and down, then up. I manage to get as high as $38 and decide to cash out having gained 90% off of my initial investment. I know, I could have stayed to try to win more, but I didn't want to be greedy. I just wanted to be happy for what I have been given.

The Watcher and Flux put a $5 in a large video poker machine "for mom." Mom in her retirement sets up gambling trips for her Filipino club nearly every weekend: Indian casinos, Reno. Even then your relatives can't go gambling, they always give you a little something to put into a machine, "just to see" if maybe you'll be lucky. The eternal hope of winning it big. They manage to win $20 off of their $5 and cash out. Thanks, Mom!

The SO is now fascinated by Pai Gow Poker but there's only a couple of tables. We take the tunnel to Harvey's where we finally discover the Texas Hold 'Em poker tables. Ten people to a table. It's hard. People watching. You trying to read stranger's faces. I notice how on the regular tables, people order the harder drinks. At the poker tables, beer was the strongest kick. Most everyone else drank water and soda. The mind needs to stay sharp for poker. There are many things to think about, calculate. The last pot we watch there are a pair of 2s and an ace in the flop. Someone is going to get hurt. A pair in the open cards has the potential of a 3 of a kind. Three people stay in all the way, raising bets each time. It's a big pot. All three of them had an ace. What are the possibilities? Ace/Queen takes the pot the other two are burned as they each thought, "who else would have the ace in the hole?"

The SO decides not to bet, saves his gambling budget for another day. His brain is a bit fatigued, not a good time to gamble.

We go back to the hotel. The snow outside is not so pristine, but our angels are still there.

Questions and comments asked about the taho trip

Ver asks a few things.

Q) the all important, was I wearing a hat?
A) I wore a green head scarf that kept my hair back better. It looks like a really wide sweatband across your head. The Watcher said it made us look like Mike Bibby. I think we're cuter than Mike Bibby. Along with the green scarf, my outfit consisted of a white turtleneck, and green/black Henley Hansen jacket, white snow gloves, and snow bib that was baggy when I was in high school, but now is quite snug.

Q) Would I do it again?
A) absofreakinglutely! I think I'm hooked onto snowboarding. It fits me. I like the idea of being able to ride down the hill no matter which way you're facing. I was walking around work today thinking about how my body should lean to turn different directions. I've always liked board type stuff like skateboarding and push scooters. I guess the next board thing I should try is surfing, but that seems kind of scary.

My friend said that when she watched me go down the learning hill, I managed to hit a stance that looked like I knew what I was doing. I think I remember what she means. I actually remember almost seeing myself go down the hill as if I was another person watching me. Besides, I like to sit on the hill and look at the view. The next snow thing I'd like to try is cross country skiing. I think I can handle that.

The SO would like to go snowmobiling which we saw at the Tahoe municipal golf course. And he doesn't want to share his snowmobile either.

C)"Leaning like you have no butt"
A) Has something to do with balance and center of gravity. Like you have to keep your torso vertical over the board, while your weight shifts over each of the feet left and right, and front and back, while keeping your back straight. It was like a bad 3 dimensional game of Twister. Leaning like you have no butt is supposed to drive your toes forward and gets the weight off your heels which is supposed to turn you or slow you down or so they say. All of it seems to defy gravity in strange ways.

C) Chatty said to spike the hot chocolate
A) dang, forgot. but I did bring the really good godiva hot chocolate stuff and soy milk for our lactose intolerant selves.

C)Snow suits with lapels
A) saw that at the lodge. Quite stylish. Skiers tended to have the tighter form fitting outfits, while many of the boarders had that baggy sk8rboi look.

Stepping onto clouds to reach an angel

We get back to the lodge quite tired and a bit sore, but before removing the snow gear, it's snow angel time. A dad with his kids created a bit of path through the snow. The snow is deep, 2-3 feet in some parts and the snow is powdery, not even wet enough to make a snowball. When you hurled one, it just disintegrated to powder.

I walk out to the snow and look for a proper angel landing site. The SO is scared. He doesn't like sliding. He doesn't like cold. Those tropical instincts are strong in him. But he has the camera. Deep down I know, that the photographer in him needing to capture a life moment will overtake him and his fear. He comes out to take closer pictures of the Watcher and I making snow angels. The artist wins over fear!

Just as he thinks it's time to go in. I head out further in the snow. There are snow sculptures to be made dammit. The artist in me drives me forth. Again, it's another life moment. (His brother and him battled the hottest summers in Yellowstone with 40 lbs of camera equipment to capture life's moments.) If he didn't come out here for this, I'd have to tell on him to his brother. As I sit stuck in the snow, gathering piles for my sculpture, I see him trudge out following the steps of Flux, the Watcher and I. I'm proud of him. This is how I know he loves me because love conquered fear. It makes me happy that we're here together.

A gaggle of geese paddle along offshore watching us sink into the deep snow. We take pictures of them.

I'm still not sure what my ice sculpture will be til the Watcher declares, "ooh, cool bear!" I had initially saw an old guy with large jowels, but a bear seems better. I start to feel the soreness in my forearms while gathering the snow. I have to hurry before fatigue really sets in. I like snow the way I like clay. I like tangible sculpting. I've always wanted to take pottery classes. I find it relaxing, the forming of shape through touch which I don't always get from poetry. It allows my mind to go to a different space.

Flux signs up for a foot massage in the evening before dinner. I ask for a facial the next morning. The Watcher asks for a massage in the morning as well.

Tonight we head to Harrah's buffet and casino.

while we wait...


Hecate


?? Which Of The Greek Gods Are You ??
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What kind of soul do you have?


You are naturally born with a gift, whether it be
poetry, writing or song. You love beauty and
creativity, and usually are highly intelligent.
Others view you as mysterious and dreamy, yet
also bold since you hold firm in your beliefs.


What Type of Soul Do You Have ?
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Meanwhile, the Nars takes a couple of tests and finds Einstein and Apocolypse Now. I guess it means you gotta be pretty bright, yet being a nurse can be hell.