Chris Yuhico | Journal: 2011

Time Machine

About an hour away from my home, there exists a small portion of the city where,

if you focus really hard,

and ignore the occasional motor of a passing car,

I swear -

You'll be taken back 300 years.

Ever since a rather large block of cheddar cheese mysteriously appeared in our refrigerator a few days ago, I have been indulging myself with servings upon servings of the soft, chewy delight. There's just something about a good slice of melted cheddar that makes any sandwich taste like magical unicorn steak. One bite, and the tears that stream down your face will contain so much joy they'll glisten gold in the sunlight.

On a more serious note, I have taken to enjoying cheese lately. The fact that it goes well with wine has had me up many a night relaxing to the soothing sounds of a fireplace and classy Jazz music, both softly piped in through Airplay (when you don't have an actual fireplace at home and you live in a country that's too hot for one, the sound will have to do).

That said, I'm thinking of expanding my firsthand knowledge on the subject and purchasing a variety of cheeses, in perfect timing for the holidays as well. The decision that remains is whether I shall do it by country, or by starting with the cheeses I know to be good. Either way, this should make for a very, very filling Christmas. Cheers, all!

Friendship

Taken just as the night was winding down after dinner with friends on a rooftop.

Really, what would life be without friends? Initial strangers who, throughout the years remain your constants throughout the crests and troughs of life's fury, and at some point in it, end up changing yours completely.

The Best Camera

The best camera is indeed the one you have with you. Through the rains pouring all the way to T minus 5 minutes, the fact that there was no food for sale within 4 kilometers of the area, and ninety percent of the crowd being at the high school level,

11/11/11 11:11:11pm was beautiful.

We lit our lanterns, made a wish, and let both fly. Let's hope mine comes true.

Postcards from Pulag

Last weekend I travelled to Mount Pulag with three friends, visions of the last trip's view of the summit still fresh in mind. We took the late night bus to Baguio as usual, then contracted a jeepney to take us to the trail and back.

It started off well enough. We made good time to Baguio, and the ride on the way to the DENR* office was more than pleasant. Toploading most of the way, we once more reveled in the beauty of our country, one I personally believe matches that of any other place in the world.

After the mandatory briefing at DENR, we got back into the jeepney for our final drive to the Ranger Station, where pretty much everyone who ascends the mountain starts their climb. On the way, we encountered our first bump in the road. One part of the road was pretty muddy, and the jeepney ahead of us was firmly stuck. Since our jeep was the only four-wheel drive vehicle anywhere near the area (and the only four-wheel drive jeepney I've ever heard of), we hopped off while our driver helped the group ahead of us, as well as the next four groups, get through.

I took that short break from the action as an opportunity to shoot something, and at the end of the day I'm glad that it happened because as it turns out, those were the last photos I took during the entirety of the trip.

Last Monday, I was able to sneak in a few shots with Marie, a vegan chef I mentioned in a previous post here on the blog. My friendship with Marie has led me to an curiosity for people that, for lack of a better phrase, have one rung off from the rest of the ladder. Not crazies - although crazy people are interesting in their own right - but rather people in unique circumstances, whether by choice or not, like maybe a blind pianist or a missionary to North Korea.

The shot above plays on the central tenet of veganism which believes that killing animals for food is immoral. Marie is shown to be a murderer as well, for food, albeit with much less mobile victims -- a different kind of butcher, if you will.

Meet John Lee. It is debatable if that's his full name, or his first name which happens to be a compound name, but that was how he introduced himself. This initially timid man with slightly jaundiced eyes is a street vendor, peddling coconuts (buko in Filipino) along the corner of General Luna Street and Makati Avenue.

He's not your noisy type of vendor, broadcasting presence with a horn or booming voice like the more ambulant ones. John stands unassuming by the street corner, waiting for customers he know will come. His strong piercing eyes foreshadow a confidence brought about by a sense of business savvy not normally expected from one with that office address.

When I last visited Vietnam, I like any other budget-conscious adventurer stayed in the aptly named backpacker district of Saigon. I instantly fell in love with the locale, waxing poetic about its compact semi-grungy charm, and how amazingly tasty street food was available at every corner, at a price cheaper than your budget McDonald's meal back home. For the two to three weeks that I was there I subsisted mostly on Banh Mi, Pho and iced coffee and loving every moment of it. I'd think to myself, why do we not have all these romantic little conveniences back home? What did we do differently?

Flash forward to about a year later, I'm walking along Makati Avenue headed toward a meeting. I cross Buendia which to me seems like a borderline between two totally different cities. There is a marked difference between the size, style and even nature of the buildings and establishments on either side. Whereas on one side, majestic glass-walled edifices rise, the opposite's are notably stockier and stunted. One is full of corporate offices and shopping centers, the other caters to restaurants, bars and...other entertainment-oriented businesses.

If I had my way, this would be my Asian travel list. Green represents those which I've already visited, yellow would be those next in line, and orange after that. The past two years have seen me blaze a backpacking trail through the Indochina Peninsula, with the exception of Laos which somehow got squeezed off the itenerary at the last minute.

Last Saturday, I found myself navigating the narrow streets of Pasay on my way to pick up some gear I needed. As I made the right turn that led to the store, I saw that the siomai vendor had already started making his rounds, and that he was flanked by a fishball vendor - a rare appearance in those parts. The image of a siomai and fishball feast as well as the subsequent growl in my gut quickly led me to screech the car to a halt by the side of the road.
After having feasted on my sweet fill of pork (at least I’ll assume it qualifies as pork in one form or another - the alternatives are pretty disgusting) and fishball goodness, I returned to the car, but lo and behold as I tried to start it, the key refused to turn in the ignition switch. I pushed, pulled, pleaded and prayed for the next 45 minutes, but it seemed like all was doomed.

Separation

These past few months, I've noticed an increasing number of entries to this journal that I've kept private for one reason or another. I am a very opinionated person, and I write to record these opinions and to release any emotions in me, of whatever nature. Sometimes I react to current events in the country or in the world. Sometimes I muse over an idea, principle, or experience. Other times, I write for the sake of art.

Apart from writing, I also use the journal to post images that have caught my eye. I see beauty all around me everyday, and I make use of the internet to share this beauty with everyone around me.

I've felt an increased conflict within me to promote certain posts, and hide others. With that, I have decided to give my online psyche another home. I've created another blog, which shall from today house my uncensored opinions and literary creations of the more artistic nature (which, ironically, was what I originally set out to do here). This one I shall maintain as a photo-centric blog and experiential journal which, I think, necessitates a name change.
Edit (May 9, 2011): Name changed.

So what's that other blog's address? I'm not telling. At least not just yet. I'm still populating it. All in due time.

Christine

A few weeks back, I took some snapshots of our labandera Tiya Nelly, with the intention of giving her a printed portrait for herself. This inspired me to do a little personal project wherein I fill our home with portraits of my family members. I started out with the two other males in the family, first my father in his papaya grove and then my brother in his wife beaters. Today, it was my sister's turn.

This is my sister, Christine Anne Lee Yuhico. She was born with Down's Syndrome, which basically means that the slope of her learning curve isn't as steep. But that's not a problem, she's still pretty smart. She's the most communicative from all the Down's Syndrome children that I've seen, she has memorized the birthdays of almost all her acquaintances, and she actually learned Filipino on her own. I guess I should thank all these mass media telenovelas for that.

"How about Baguio?"

I blinked twice, scarcely able to believe what was being suggested. I was standing on the parking lot of Alabang Town Center at 2:30 on a Saturday morning, my friends Mias and Mario prancing around beside me. We had just left San Mig Pub having what we had planned to be a steady Friday night. The pub closed at 2am, but we weren't done for the night, and were thinking of where we could continue the party.

One of our other friends, JL, was already in Baguio for a weekend getaway. He had promised us a bottle of scotch should we decide to join him up there, thinking (with good reason) that a bottle of scotch wouldn't be worth the 4-6 hour drive to the mountains. Too bad for him, the few pints of beer in our systems were telling us otherwise.

Last month, I had the privilege of shooting Marie, an amazing vegan chef and a good friend who runs a nifty little outfit called Kitchen Revolution. Now Marie has always been gifted in the culinary arts, long before she discovered herself as a vegan. After the transformation however, she was a bit disappointed to find that in this meat-loving country, there aren't that many vegan-friendly establishments. And I quote:

She started Kitchen Revolution in 2008 when she was a new-born vegan and found herself in a conundrum: where can she find yummy vegan food in Manila? Unfortunately (or fortunately), in her own kitchen. Disappointed with lackluster vegetarian options offered in local food establishments, she launched Kitchen Revolution as the Philippines’ first vegan baking business because she realized that if she was craving for cake, she’d have to bake it herself. She worked for the corporate world by day and frosted desserts by night. After a year and a half of this tango, she finally hiked up her pants, temporarily closed the business, and went to culinary school.

While living and studying in New York, she was amazed at how easy breezy it was to be vegan. The lifestyle was embraced and accepted by many. The plethora of produce and vegan options in restaurants amazed her. The city was teeming with vegetarian cafes, pizzerias, fine dining restaurants, fast food restaurants, and even vegan ice cream parlors — being enjoyed by both vegans and non-vegans alike! She finally found her calling in life.

For you vegans or vegan-curious people out there, go check her out. She makes a mean plate of Asian Noodles, and although I don't think it's officially on the menu try and ask her for the fried mushrooms. Tell her Chris sent you, you won't regret it.

Street Vendors

I've lately been feeling like I haven't been paying much attention to personal photography. Of course I've been travelling a bit, but it's different, trying to beautifully capture what's already there versus shooting a photo, or a series of photos that you conceptualized. Unless of course the travel bit is what you conceptualized, but I digress.

With that in mind, I decided the other day to revive a old idea that was lying dormant in the corner of my todo list -- Street Vendors. Once upon a time, I thought of shooting all the different types of street vendors the Philippines has roaming about its streets. Between the balut ladies, the fishball manongs, takatak boys, and mamang sorbeteros, we have in us an extremely rich plethora of...roadside entrepreneurs. How this little piece of our culture evolved is beyond me, but here it lies and being the lover that I am of all those things-that-your-mom-tells-you-not-to-eat-when-you're-young, it is extremely close to my heart.

Despite this, other priorites kept on piling and piling until it teetered on the edge of being forgotten before receiving a lifeline from my friend Tine who persistently kept it on my mind. So finally yesterday, off we went to the streets of Manila to see what we could find, stomachs half empty and jars of hope quite full.

We barely got as far as my car when we came across Manong Philip. A familiar face to most from DLSU, Manong Philip sells assorted candies and cigarettes across the North Gate of the school. Owning the spot for as far back as I can remember, he is to me as iconic a character in the cast of my college life as was Jenny the Beggar, Ate Ems or even Mang Jack.

The concept of co-branding is clearly not lost on him, although the fact of whether the other brand is aware of this remains a bit vague. He came off as a bit gruff at first, as most street denizens do, but a small purchase and the promise of a printed portrait delivered a smile (not shown in photo).

We shot one more before the rains forced us to seek shelter in a wonderful little Indian restaurant, but that shall be for another post. Adios muchachos.

Time Machine

Of Cheddar Cheese and Unicorn Steaks

Friendship

The Best Camera

Postcards from Pulag

A Different Kind of Butcher

Street Vendors - Buko Juice

On Our Own Interesting City

Next In Line

An Afternoon With A Keysmith

Separation

Christine

Amen to Seven

Marie: Answering the Vegan Call

Street Vendors