tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12270267227822729422024-03-06T12:13:07.538+08:00Chris Yuhico | JournalUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger71125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-81718697899558538592014-08-20T00:22:00.000+08:002014-08-20T02:20:29.656+08:00Fresh Off The Press - CURIO MAGAZINE Issue 02<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9EJeScPwFh29DutUZoEr4wTXUyto_zq2fvC3u46YeseTAZYRGBXZ1963Ero_AuEoRchxWmDR05bfXV5IBb0xtoBG6jWUpUtlYPBSXPgHGAqO3YkPiCLfHkUDvnsvBM2guQn2x1jYUQCG-/s1600/Curio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9EJeScPwFh29DutUZoEr4wTXUyto_zq2fvC3u46YeseTAZYRGBXZ1963Ero_AuEoRchxWmDR05bfXV5IBb0xtoBG6jWUpUtlYPBSXPgHGAqO3YkPiCLfHkUDvnsvBM2guQn2x1jYUQCG-/s1600/Curio.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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A teaser (c/o <a href="https://www.facebook.com/DesignForTomorrow" target="_blank">Design For Tomorrow</a>) for some of my fresh-off-the-press work for Curio Magazine, a publication curated, edited, and designed by DFT for the Timeline Group. It's always a pleasure shooting black and white, and this was a particularly interesting experience. I've posted a couple of side portraits of Karen (above) and Alvin in a <a href="http://blog.yuhico.com/2014/05/two-portraits-in-black-white.html" target="_blank">previous entry</a>, and will add more as soon as the issue is released.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxWGtxMpA7XBU65V5Kx9fryeCcpmg2XX9WsIXYi5sHji1QkGLN6jwPzZ-jmsSUhO3aSQ19BcWIzRpUJCerpHhTV_S9CiWHimVSSdRUZtJwEJmmvowzFPt9obUNXWF4kxjyOzXsiHYbj7i7/s1600/Curio2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxWGtxMpA7XBU65V5Kx9fryeCcpmg2XX9WsIXYi5sHji1QkGLN6jwPzZ-jmsSUhO3aSQ19BcWIzRpUJCerpHhTV_S9CiWHimVSSdRUZtJwEJmmvowzFPt9obUNXWF4kxjyOzXsiHYbj7i7/s1600/Curio2.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 42px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 42px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-57328304485273998312014-07-28T13:06:00.000+08:002014-08-20T00:34:39.183+08:00Ballet - From The Wings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.yuhico.com/photos/i-BM7j33T/0/L/i-BM7j33T-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.yuhico.com/photos/i-BM7j33T/0/L/i-BM7j33T-L.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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Watching a ballet performance from the wings can be a totally different experience from what you get being in the audience, although isn't necessarily a bad thing. True, the view is skewed roughly 90 degrees, but what I found fascinating was seeing the dancers switch to and from their performance and offstage states. Seeing a strong performer go from all-smiles to breathing heavily and sweating profusely within 2 seconds of exiting stage gives one a more profound respect of how hard it actually is to dance. On the same note, seeing how dancers with character roles meditate and prepare for their entrance is almost like watching a prayer unfold before you, on the altar of grace.<br />
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 42px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 42px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><br />
<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 42px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 42px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-19251814367345055882014-06-15T15:56:00.001+08:002014-08-20T02:25:37.251+08:00Mananayaw Stills<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgPH5vobJD5v96o9-MjNNzLpjJpwfTCslxrg30uLsodtvUvWG1m8CUA6p551_rJOln4-BnbxrjNJOXgD_uARyRq48J4XsxAyt5TMOWvZz7u5YPzVWxRxqRt05E6DNt-B9bUlp9cMsg1QqU/s1600/140613-Mananayaw-1058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgPH5vobJD5v96o9-MjNNzLpjJpwfTCslxrg30uLsodtvUvWG1m8CUA6p551_rJOln4-BnbxrjNJOXgD_uARyRq48J4XsxAyt5TMOWvZz7u5YPzVWxRxqRt05E6DNt-B9bUlp9cMsg1QqU/s1600/140613-Mananayaw-1058.jpg" height="640" width="425" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR5DH4KbTCN8VqUp6P39hbJfeAFs1m5g1CxgiYGQimWLFALynxsy3V1B9qCpQplyZBLvVwLHXSsSvLUFFaiYxhlTZpwuF4z6wj9B0roI_TV6r1DuEjjXtr_7RSCTDBFFDvCKdU6lT09WEj/s1600/140613-Mananayaw-1241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR5DH4KbTCN8VqUp6P39hbJfeAFs1m5g1CxgiYGQimWLFALynxsy3V1B9qCpQplyZBLvVwLHXSsSvLUFFaiYxhlTZpwuF4z6wj9B0roI_TV6r1DuEjjXtr_7RSCTDBFFDvCKdU6lT09WEj/s1600/140613-Mananayaw-1241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR5DH4KbTCN8VqUp6P39hbJfeAFs1m5g1CxgiYGQimWLFALynxsy3V1B9qCpQplyZBLvVwLHXSsSvLUFFaiYxhlTZpwuF4z6wj9B0roI_TV6r1DuEjjXtr_7RSCTDBFFDvCKdU6lT09WEj/s1600/140613-Mananayaw-1241.jpg" height="640" width="425" /></a></div>
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I finally got to shooting some photos for the documentary. I must say, it's a bit of a refreshing break to go into the CCP with the purpose of stills in mind. </div>
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Above are two of the main characters in Mananayaw - JM Cordero and Biag Gaongen. JM is the current male principal dancer for <a href="http://www.ballet.ph/" target="_blank">Ballet Philippines</a>, a position which Biag once held before got injured a few years back. </div>
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The plan was to shoot them performing different styles of dance - JM doing classical ballet, and Biag for modern. Add dramatic lighting and two really pretty ballerinas, and our pegs were set.</div>
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 220px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 658px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 220px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 658px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-69942630789988190682014-05-26T00:57:00.002+08:002014-05-26T01:01:48.211+08:00The Princess<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTsJGfWUf8Ru4ChsqBkapWOBHh6ruq34ge1sYD1Sfdj3O9x_nafH2RD_wzlsqB8twfkjzp-zuUCvY2Fp4jaBFP2qbid9hyLe2_yQ2cNwhow0P6S4UO12DYwT9p9Be1kp9906lJA57E_Kr1/s1600/140525-CCPDS-1072-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTsJGfWUf8Ru4ChsqBkapWOBHh6ruq34ge1sYD1Sfdj3O9x_nafH2RD_wzlsqB8twfkjzp-zuUCvY2Fp4jaBFP2qbid9hyLe2_yQ2cNwhow0P6S4UO12DYwT9p9Be1kp9906lJA57E_Kr1/s640/140525-CCPDS-1072-2.jpg" /></a></div>
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Princess Monica, moments before the stage. </div>
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Just being immersed in the world of ballet has given me a new well of inspiration to draw from. I have as of late, been furiously filling my books with photo ideas that I plan to shoot in the near future. Truly, no one is creative who does not constantly expose himself to new experiences and ideas, for they are the fuel for the fire of the imagination.</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-84242070814169199392014-05-25T01:30:00.000+08:002014-05-26T01:02:11.908+08:00Before the Curtains Rise<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB4WuWiY75sMOyR9vcLYlbOPT6F8JlNSvC1IHFXkZU8AKXGOvtatphav89I1WPJhity-iGM2iM1rIpDzpdMPwj5CidyplnriXDKrx8KHlMUiAhsqA0QQCHJWcNPCoPydvQqffHjl3LFvwJ/s1600/140524-CCPDS-1010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB4WuWiY75sMOyR9vcLYlbOPT6F8JlNSvC1IHFXkZU8AKXGOvtatphav89I1WPJhity-iGM2iM1rIpDzpdMPwj5CidyplnriXDKrx8KHlMUiAhsqA0QQCHJWcNPCoPydvQqffHjl3LFvwJ/s1600/140524-CCPDS-1010.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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I was filming the Ballet Philippines dancers earlier today for the documentary, and I managed to take this photo of Katrene, as she was doing runs for her show the next day.</div>
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It's hard to imagine the blood, sweat, and tears that dancers go through for their performances, just because they are good enough to make it look so easy. The dancers at Ballet Philippines are some of the most hardworking and dedicated artists I know, and what they do is anything but a walk in the park. People like them serve as an inspiration to me every day that I pursue my own passion, and as long as they exist, the world will always be a better place for it.
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-17029796716798810282014-05-19T01:28:00.000+08:002014-05-19T01:32:51.198+08:00Two Portraits in Black & White<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5v5pjk6Imi8_yDci2TxZgYOYRgrVUIgGtG6A4IUEaOrt0yWkegAt7gvecv3mKF-ePJDsDQ3_8M5B33FbhaKz-Az8SJ8ZiYPsKA76z2zFyVRBMgbnamEnz1Gj7rtTOl9bQ03mtyY2hR14c/s1600/DFT-1223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5v5pjk6Imi8_yDci2TxZgYOYRgrVUIgGtG6A4IUEaOrt0yWkegAt7gvecv3mKF-ePJDsDQ3_8M5B33FbhaKz-Az8SJ8ZiYPsKA76z2zFyVRBMgbnamEnz1Gj7rtTOl9bQ03mtyY2hR14c/s1600/DFT-1223.jpg" height="450" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-HdOQobXMwcYlWKpNQ0UU79Va3_zdZyrA0NdN3f51QVbLdxWMlynqIwIf4vlolYrnAg_FjsYTnjDQdnMYhi2pQhbhyphenhyphenuHIm5k-BEEkHxGAiZSiyUbtdjubEsdNraUUm1YFWyRFXHgCyDYW/s1600/DFT-1198.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-HdOQobXMwcYlWKpNQ0UU79Va3_zdZyrA0NdN3f51QVbLdxWMlynqIwIf4vlolYrnAg_FjsYTnjDQdnMYhi2pQhbhyphenhyphenuHIm5k-BEEkHxGAiZSiyUbtdjubEsdNraUUm1YFWyRFXHgCyDYW/s1600/DFT-1198.jpg" height="450" width="300" /></a></div>
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Posting a couple of profiles from my latest editorial shoot. It's been a while since I've shot for B&W, something I've been missing dearly. These weren't actually part of the shotlist for the day, but I loved the profiles of Alvin and Karen so much that I just had to ask them to pose for me. Full set from the shoot to go up once the issue has been published.</div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-22844897052267646562014-05-12T02:10:00.000+08:002014-08-20T00:35:54.673+08:00Gawad Kalinga Enchanted Farm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.yuhico.com/photos/i-sB3D9hw/0/X3/i-sB3D9hw-X3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.yuhico.com/photos/i-sB3D9hw/0/X3/i-sB3D9hw-X3.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></div>
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I made a visit to the <a href="http://gk1world.com/gk-enchanted-farm" target="_blank">Gawad Kalinga Enchanted Farm</a> recently. For those not yet familiar with Gawad Kalinga, it's a non-government organization whose goal (among others) is to sustainably end poverty for 5 million <i>families</i> by 2024, and they're doing it through social enterprise. I had the opportunity to sit down for five minutes with Mr Tony Meloto, the founder of Gawad Kalinga, and he made a believer out of me. The man is overflowing with inspiration, and if many Filipinos would adopt the same mindset as he has, we would have a lot less problems in this world.<br />
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I didn't have much time to stay in one place within the farm as I was on assignment, but I managed to sneak in a few randoms that caught my fancy.<br />
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<a href="http://www.yuhico.com/photos/i-CCCwQdN/0/X3/i-CCCwQdN-X3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://www.yuhico.com/photos/i-CCCwQdN/0/X3/i-CCCwQdN-X3.jpg" height="427" width="640" /></a><br />
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Cocoa pods. Apparently, the Philippines is a pretty ideal climate for growing cocoa, yet we import most of our chocolate.<br />
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Seedlings from the plant clinic at the farm. They produce really potent fertilizer here, and use it to care for their plants. At Php50 per kilo, it's not a bad price either.<br />
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<a href="http://www.yuhico.com/photos/i-vjVsNW7/0/X3/i-vjVsNW7-X3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.yuhico.com/photos/i-vjVsNW7/0/X3/i-vjVsNW7-X3.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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This lady caught my eye while she was cleaning the area. Maybe it was the vigour with which she went about her duties, or maybe it was the sparkling wood floor. Either way, I thought it made for an interesting shot.</div>
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In other news, the documentary I've been working on for the <a href="http://www.gmanetwork.com/news/story/350222/newstv/newstvspecials/cinetotoo-announces-11-documentary-film-finalists" target="_blank">GMA Cinetotoo <u>International Documentary Film Festival</u></a>, <i>Mananayaw,</i> has finally entered production phase. Pre-prod's just about finished, and now comes the fun. More to come.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-56874673292442964442014-04-22T03:07:00.000+08:002014-08-20T00:36:32.940+08:00UNICEF<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A UNICEF tent standing in the plaza. Five months after, and the world is still helping. Tacloban City, Leyte, Philippines.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Tacloban City, Philippines11.25 12511.0008375 124.6772765 11.4991625 125.3227235tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-7372848966104584322014-02-04T01:59:00.002+08:002014-08-20T00:36:38.782+08:00Every Season Is Travel Season<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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At the beginning of 2014, I tried to convince myself that I would do less traveling this year, that I would try and stay put and quell my wanderlust with something a bit more regular and mundane, maybe put my travel budget to a more local use.</div>
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I tried, and for a whole month, I was sucessful. Yet here I find myself at the start of February, staring down at least three international trips already booked for the year, and the threat of more to come. I start the year off with Malaysia this week, having scored a free trip from Air Asia a couple of months back (Thanks, Air Asia!).</div>
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I'll be in Kuala Lumpur for the weekend (Feb 7-11), and hope to be able to see its local art scene. Due to a rather tight schedule I'll be unable to do the usual 1-3 week immersion, but I'll definitely be going back for seconds around the end of the year. This time around, I'm definitely bringing my camera (my last attempt at going on a camera-less vacation ended up in horrible regret), but will eschew my laptop and clunky gear and just bring a single lens and body. Still a bit on the fence whether it should be a prime or the wide-angle zoom, but I won't worry too much about it.</div>
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One thing I'm particularly excited to do is to shoot a bit of video. When I travel, one frustration I've been having is that a lot of my memories involve sounds and the motion of certain elements - the gentle swaying of reeds along a river I watch the sunset from, the droning put-put-put of a tuktuk that I've hired to take me around town, or even the mesmerizing blinking of neon lights along the street I'm lodged in. While motion is to a certain extent capturable in a photo, sound most definitely is not, hence the video. </div>
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So that's Malaysia. This June, I'll be heading over to Osaka and Tokyo for a week, and come August it's Beijing for some dumplings with an extra order of smog. Hopefully by then, my Mandarin skills will have progressed sufficiently for me to at least haggle well enough to make the Chinese blood in me bubble with pride.</div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-68948699303878450652014-01-20T02:16:00.001+08:002014-01-20T02:28:15.374+08:00Resensitization<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sometimes we get so used to a place, that we somehow overlook the beauty it holds.
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I took this shot of an old Catholic woman making the sign of the cross after dipping her hands in holy water while on a shoot for <a href="http://www.worldmission.ph/">World Mission Magazine</a>. Having grown up in Christianity this is not an uncommon sight for me, and so I initially took one glance and turned my attention onto another portion of the church we were in. At the end, I'm glad I was able to capture this solemn moment of introspection. We live in a beautiful world, we just need to keep ourselves constantly sensitive to what it shows us.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-18546595373080356312014-01-20T01:38:00.000+08:002014-01-20T01:52:36.610+08:00Beauty<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="365" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/83910533?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0&badge=0&color=fcdcb3" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="650"></iframe>
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<i>(Warning: artistic nudity)</i> <br />
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Animator Rino Tagliafierro made a short film, bringing classical paintings magically to life with <i>Beauty</i>. Every time I've spent some time gazing at a painting, I've always envisioned the scene playing out in my head, and imagining what it would be like to live in the world of that particular piece.
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Today, I got a bit closer to having that come true.<br />
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Taken from <a href="http://io9.com/watch-classical-paintings-come-alive-in-beauty-1503708585/@rtgonzalez">Gizmodo</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-34257794843002818622013-02-25T23:34:00.000+08:002013-02-25T23:51:36.608+08:00Brief Pagudpud Memoirs: The Rock<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm back in Pagudpud once more. Since I first stepped foot into its sandy beaches, there has always been a sense of familiarity about this small town, as far from it as I've grown up. I had been aching for a break from the numbing grimy stench of city life and consequently grabbed the next opportunity to pack up and look north. This time around, I found myself exploring the more known sites of the province.
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The rock was an lesson in humility. Kapurpurawan, as it was called, had an initial sense of gloriousness that lent itself to the viewer when first beholding the white formation. Pride was the one word to describe it, bringing to mind the image of an old and wise mandrill raising a lion cub up high. Upon reaching the far side, however, one saw the raw savageness of nature's fury. Monstrous wave after monstrous wave crashed upon the rock as if Poseidon himself had cried havoc, leaving the nearby tidal pools afroth with sea foam.
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Throughout the rage of the waters and the howling wind that constantly threatened to throw us all into the maelstrom, we were able to find peace sheltered in a small crook of the same rock that was steadfastly protecting us, standing resolutely on and commanding the sea to wait yet one more day. And, in that instant, in that feeling of utter helplessness in the face of such a display, I also felt strangely happy, as if life was whispering in my ear and telling me to remember the moment, that one glimmer in time where I was profoundly weak yet supremely secure.
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-63317767205102788522012-06-01T00:37:00.000+08:002012-06-21T15:29:04.931+08:00A Very Brief Sojourn in Kalinga<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It was the first time in my life that I had seen fireflies on my ceiling. When you live in an overcrowded and extremely polluted city, you grow accustomed to reading about certain things in nature, yet never really seeing them. Save the ubiquitous stray cat, dog, sparrow, or cockroach, I would dare say that one could have lived in Manila not seeing any other type of animal for years. Except rats.
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But I wasn’t in Manila, no. The serenade for the senses that was unravelling before my eyes was taking place in a small valley in the province of Kalinga. Fireflies were aglow on my bedroom ceiling while the constant rush of the river soothed my wandering mind better than crickets could have. Not that there weren’t any crickets - what must have been hundreds of the soprano-like maestros were singing in the darkness, perfectly complementing the midtones of the water to form a harmonious night lullaby, one that would rival the best nightingale from stories old.
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The daybreak as well brought its own sense of magic and beauty. Hills and low mountains undulated about the countryside, as if God had slowly rolled his hand over the terrain. Green abounded, ending only where the mighty Chico River had cut its path through the valleys like a giant snake.
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In the midst of this endless carpet of green, people thrived. We journeyed far into the midst of it all, grateful for the pickup truck given for our use without which we would find ourselves hiking for a good portion of the day. I found myself riding on the back of the vehicle on one of two sala chairs placed there at the last minute for our comfort, a welcome experience and one I think more befitting this sort of trek than comfort inside the air-conditioned vehicle.
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We arrived at a small community of a few hundred people hidden in a small valley by the banks of the river. We pulled up to a house, owned by one of the leaders of the small barangay. As we greeted the host, his wife emerged from the house carrying a piping hot kettle full of coffee. The locals of Kalinga and the surrounding areas seem to have a coffee habit that’s very unique to the country. Coffee is served to any and all guests that come, seemingly without discrimination as to what time of the day it is. This habit is one that definitely is not just for show, as the residents of the area seem themselves to consume the substance even more copiously than they expected us guests to do. Tasting the coffee, which is grown right in their backyards, I could see why this was so.
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Another unique experience that Kalinga had to offer was the menu, which was as exotic as it was delicious. The deer soup went down quite swimmingly, as did the native chicken and the pinikpikan, although the grilled dog required just a little bit more gin and mental toughness to wash down. Unlike Manila where animal flesh is normally kept on ice, most of my dishes were alive an hour before I had them, and virtually all meals came with a healthy side dish of entrails as if as proof. Although most homes kept a healthy stock of farm animals, hunting was very much in the mode in Kalinga.
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One such hunter that I met was Emmanuel Guasi, or Amang Guasi as we called him. He was an old man, his face and body clearly weathered by the years but without the air of defeat that clouds most men his age. He had the gait of an unassuming fellow, of one who had seen much yet whose innate goodness had kept his soul intact. He would come over to the convent every afternoon that we were there and we would talk, each learning much from the other. He told me about his tribe, and a the legends surrounding the mountains. We spoke of hunting, how many dogs one needed for a boar, and how to best use one’s spear when it was finally cornered. He had much to say about his life, how he was the elder of his tribe and a peace negotiator for the other tribes in the area. In Kalinga and the surrounding provinces, the rule of law is mostly based on tribal relations. Disputes are settled by negotiators, rather than courts and lawyers, and fines are paid to each other, rather than the government. Each tribe is held accountable for the actions of its members, and offense against one man most likely would mean offense against the whole tribe. With this, peace pacts are utterly important, as is one’s best behavior when in another tribe’s territory.
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Apart from being the peacemonger of the land, Amang Guasi was also a devout Christian and a lay minister. He would together with the parish priest travel to all the different churches that the parish covered, some of them more than an hour away on foot. At his age, I marvelled at his resilience, one that takes a lifetime of sweat and blood to achieve.
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I could have listened to his stories for months, soaking in a culture that, though something I had grown up reading, was something I had never thought I would see up close and personal. Unfortunately, life had different plans for me and I had to rush back to Manila. I shall go there once more, eager to learn about the tattooed people that live in the mountains of Northern Luzon.
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But until then, I’ll have my memory of the little green fireflies.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Kalinga coffee habit. Everyone drinks coffee, all day.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amazing to see how such mighty beasts were so well trained.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tattooes are part of the Kalinga culture. Traditionally, the pattern should match their tribe's weavings.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Father Bong Macaiba, our gracious host for the stay. A tireless and dedicated priest, he was well loved and respected wherever he went.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amang Guasi's only vice, as he admitted to me - a mixture of betel nut, tobacco leaf, crushed snail shell, and another plant.</td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Tabuk, Philippines17.4117354 121.438449817.1693189 121.1225928 17.654151900000002 121.7543068tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-88008787167517467412012-05-06T04:22:00.000+08:002012-06-21T15:35:35.071+08:00Lighting Up Samar<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Half-seated and half-crouched I rode, inside a van making the four-hour journey to Borongan, Samar; a city on the eastern coast of the Philippines. We were about to drive onto the San Juanico Bridge, longest in the Philippines and in itself an impressive sight. I looked out the window. The glistening blue-green hue of the clear Pacific waters greeted me like a passer-by waving to a float on a parade. The familiar scent of the salty sea-breeze made its way through my being and gave me that sense of home-away-from-home. Random little islands littered the landscape like green polka dots on a blue dress, isolated groves of trees with their own mini beaches, sandwiched in the strait between two larger islands.
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I was here on a mission with One Million Lights Philippines, an NGO in whose vision I have of late taken quite an interest. Borongan was to be the second leg of four this summer, with distributions spanning practically the whole country. The team had just come fresh from a distribution on Mindoro Island a week earlier, and was slated for distributions in Catanduanes Island the week after, and in the Kalinga-Apayao and Mountain provinces in Northern Luzon sometime in mid-May.
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We spent the first full day in the community that was to be the beneficiary of the lights. I walked down the dirt road and remarked that I saw a few electric lines running through it, complete with homemade street lights. The lights we distributed were supposed to be given to only those without access to electricity, so lest the very purpose for the effort be defeated I asked the parish priest why this was so. He replied that while electricity did run through the small barangay, most of the people living in the area were too poor to afford the Php500 per month fixed rate. In fact, he went on to explain, the figure of Php500 was exactly what they earned in a month’s time*.
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I imagined what one would be feeling and going through should he be reduced to that sort of existence, earning barely enough to pay for electricity let alone food for a the large type of family that most rural parents raise. Even as images of depression and squalor ran through my mind, they faded in the presence of the very real smiles and happiness that pervaded the air in this impoverished community. While I already had long since learned that money did not buy happiness, I also knew that the sheer lack of such could also be a factor in the absence of happiness, having no means with which to fulfill the most basic of needs.
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Because of this, it was doubly heartwarming to be given the privilege of lifting up the lives of those that deserve uplifting, even in what small way we could, for even what seem like small gestures to us can mean worlds of difference to one who needs such.<br />
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After we had given out the all of the lights, we went to visit other communities that had received them, with the purpose of finding out just how much impact the lights had on their lives. Come dusk, we slowly saw bright spot after bright spot throughout the streets and alleyways. It was amazing to see how much more productive the people could be now that they were granted the gift of sight during the dark hours.
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After all was said and done, after the last smiles were exchanged and the last hands shaken, we retired to our homes knowing that hundreds of families would sleep better tonight. More than giving them a simple donation, we had empowered them to help themselves. The lanterns they held were not just lights to see in the physical darkness, but ones that also enlightened their lives, making each new day last just a bit longer and shine a bit brighter.
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<i>*minimum wage in the Philippines is around Php250 per day for the region. They should be earning their current income in only 2 days.</i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Borongan City, Philippines11.6079912 125.432850111.483560200000001 125.2749216 11.7324222 125.5907786tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-5087351261186032802012-04-23T21:57:00.000+08:002012-06-21T15:34:52.577+08:00A Short Break From Travels<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm currently typing this from the proverbial eye of the storm of the consecutive provincial shoots I'm having. I have just gotten back in Manila from <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Samar,+Eastern+Visayas,+Philippines&hl=en&ll=11.614574,125.716553&spn=3.050475,5.410767&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=39.371738,86.572266&oq=samar+philippines&hnear=Samar+Island&t=m&z=8">Samar</a>, a province on the eastern coast of the Philippines that has had more than its fair share of typhoons and other natural disasters, and tomorrow I leave once more - for Surigao, a province that is only one island away from Samar.
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It's been a busy past four days, albeit quite fulfilling. I've been shooting for One Million Lights, an NGO about which I have <a href="http://blog.yuhico.com/2012/03/one-million-lights-rizal.html">previously</a> <a href="http://blog.yuhico.com/2012/03/proud-cousin.html">written</a>. It's been a novel experience for me. Since most of my vacations around the Philippines have been in and around the island of Luzon, where I live, it seemed a bit surreal to be in an area where not everyone understood my language, almost as if it were in another country.
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Nevertheless, endless interesting moments and curiosities abounded. One of these was Father Tito Abuda, in the photo above. He is a Catholic priest, doing God's work in the city of Borongan in Samar. We caught him wielding a shiny new saxophone just as we were leaving the cathedral after meeting with the bishop of that diocese. He explained that he initially took it up to pass the time. Since then, it has turned into a wondrous way of sharing the beauty of music as well as worshiping through song, as evidenced by the entrancing refrain he graced us with. I felt a tinge of jealousy at his skill on an instrument I have long wanted to master, but all that soon gave way to my sense of awe at finding such a man in such a remote area.
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Tomorrow I leave for Surigao on a shoot of a somewhat different flavor than this previous one. I hope to have cellular signal there, as it will be even more rural and remote than wherever I went in Samar. This summer has definitely been more interesting than I hoped it would be - a good end to April, and certainly something to look forward to in May. May the light be with me.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-66453808912224866552012-04-07T02:31:00.000+08:002012-04-12T00:50:48.398+08:00Pangasinan - Fishing for Bangus Part 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I excitedly hopped around the sturdy workboat as it steadily made its way out of the cove just off Pangasinan towards the collection of fish cages about twenty minutes from the coast. Anton, my guide and host for the next couple of days, was explaining to me the ins and outs of bangus (<i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milkfish">Chanos chanos</a></i>) farming. The fish farm we would be seeing grew ocean-bred bangus, as opposed to the freshwater bangus industry in other locales. This, plus other practices that they had incorporated, translated into fatter fish with a superior taste (a claim which I made sure I verified that night at dinner). I could barely contain my excitement as I imagined thousands of fish thrashing around in chaos as a sturdy net slowly pulled them in for harvest.<br />
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Our first stop was the nursery, where the bangus fingerlings were kept before being transferred to a more permanent cage in the open water. This apparently is the more complicated stage in the growing of the fish as apart from the fact that they are younger and therefore more delicate, the operations are a lot more complex as the water in the different ponds needs constant changing so as to keep the oxygen levels high. The fish are constantly shuffled as well as they grow, and need to be sorted from time to time, which is not an easy task at all when you're dealing with numbers well into the hundreds of thousands. That small dark school of fish below the man in the above photo was estimated to be at around 200 thousand.
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The nursery was quite a cozy place, with a constant breeze and white seabirds flying about everywhere. These are a nuisance, however, from a fish grower's perspective. The feisty creatures constantly hang around the sides of the pens and eat the fingerlings, which in turn eats your profits. The place had a pretty genius system of scaring them away with nylon ropes strung up around the perimeter and through each pen, allowing one person to simply pull at the string from any point in the setup to generate noise.
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Once large enough to be in the open ocean, the fingerlings are transferred via the workboats to the fish cages in the next bay. From this point on, it will be another six months or so before they reach a marketable size, which is roughly 600 grams - a figure which I believe has something to do with how much fish one can eat in one sitting. After they've reached the target weight, the time comes for the harvest - where the real fun begins.
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Olongapo-Bugallon Rd, Sual, Philippines16.0765925 120.054968316.015566500000002 119.9760043 16.1376185 120.1339323tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-47311537969725179082012-03-13T02:13:00.001+08:002012-03-13T02:17:07.452+08:00One Million Lights - Rizal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sharing a couple of portraits I made from the recent distribution of <a href="http://www.facebook.com/OMLph/info">One Million Lights</a> in Montalban, Rizal. While hearing about their cause is heartwarming in itself, it is a totally different experience just being there, while they do their work. The excitement and buzz that ensued among the crowd as we stepped out of the vans, the small outbursts of joy as the villagers tightly clutched their precious lanterns, the instant lightening of gait as they walked around the gymnasium, all were sights best had up close and personal.
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This lady above has three children. I'm not quite sure how she had that last one at her age. The one on the right is Daniel, and he wants to be a policeman when he grows up. Given that the average educational attainment is Grade 1, I'm praying hard that his dreams come true.
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The event seemed to be dominated by women, both young and old. I suppose that the men were working, or in the mountains. This particular young lass was still quite active, taking care of her young grandchildren after her son's wife passed away. She had me staring open-mouthed at her strength as she climbed up stairs with ease.
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The next distributions are in farther flung provinces. Due to the distance, the stay shall probably be longer, so I'm hoping to be able to get to know the communities more. It truly is a blessing to be able to drink in these experiences, disconnecting from life and connecting with one's fellow man.
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1Mascap - Puray Rd, Rodriguez, Philippines14.7619508 121.184220314.746596299999998 121.16447930000001 14.7773053 121.2039613tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-50615030696714732862012-03-08T02:44:00.000+08:002012-03-08T12:03:22.559+08:00A Proud Cousin<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A couple of weeks ago, I had the privilege of attending the 26th anniversary of the first EDSA Revolution. For those who aren't Filipino or have somehow managed not to listen in history class, this happened in 1986 when the people rose up against then dictator Ferdinand Marcos in a bloodless revolution. He fled the country and Corazon Aquino, wife of his political rival and martyr Benigno Aquino Jr, was installed president.
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Normally, I don't particularly observe these holidays and leave the celebrations to the ample hands of the politicians and other government employees, but this time I had a better reason than patriotic feelings tugging at my heartstrings - my cousin was to be awarded at the ceremony.
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Meet my cousin Mark Lozano. He's the guy on the left in the above photo. He's a master debater <i>(competes internationally)</i>, football player <i>(varsity throughout elementary and high school)</i>, wicked guitarist <i>(plays the meanest Satriani)</i>, sacristan <i>(yeah, he's a good guy)</i>, and he has his own NGO. He's also not of legal drinking age yet, with all of seventeen years behind him.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why hello there, EDSA 1 & 2 in the same photo.</td></tr>
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Last February 25 Mark, together with his partner Tricia Peralta, received the Spirit of EDSA award from no less than President Benigno Aquino III for the work that his organization, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/OMLph/info">One Million Lights Philippines</a>, has done. In a nutshell, One Million Lights distributes solar-powered lights to impoverished rural areas around the country. This is truly a blessing for the recipients, as they are able to save money on kerosene costs. Solar powered lights are also a lot healthier to have around than most fuels, and more environmentally friendly to boot.
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I've seen Mark work on this project from the moment he came back inspired and aflame with passion from the Global Young Leaders Conference in Washington, DC in the USA. From putting everything together to finding the right volunteers, courting the right sponsors, and making sure all the materials are imported properly and on time, the monumental effort this requires is enough to warrant a full-time job, yet he accomplishes this all after his homework. They're also not about to go any slower - while they have already reached quite a number of communities last year, these should be dwarfed by the plans they have for this 2012. Next up on the list are Rizal and Mindoro, and that's all before summer ends - a pretty tall order for a guy who just the other week came from his senior prom.
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Looking back at what I have just written, these may all seem like the ramblings of a proud cousin and while it may be so, I believe my pride is well-placed. I shall be following the path of Mark with great eagerness, anticipating the heights to which he may soar. He cannot even vote yet, and yet he's already poised to make a larger difference in this world than those twice his years - truly a better version of his elders.
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-82348365095169217442012-02-14T03:37:00.001+08:002012-03-07T14:42:35.613+08:00Fuego<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The other weekend I got a chance to kick back at a friend's house in Punta Fuego, Batangas. With all the active-lifestyle weekends I've had lately, it felt really good to just sit on a reclining bench beside the pool, lost in your thoughts. Well that and to drive around the village on a golf cart, looking at other people's houses.
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-60629086349695336692012-01-10T01:11:00.001+08:002012-03-07T15:02:25.606+08:00Oh, the Places You'll Go!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sharing a video of one of my favorite Dr. Seuss poems, made even more interesting by the folks at Burning Man. It says what every parent longs to tell his/her children, that they'll go places and do things that once were only dreams. I shall read this to all of mine every night, that much is certain.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-2224096895966629762011-12-29T17:59:00.000+08:002012-03-13T01:47:41.634+08:00Time Machine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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About an hour away from my home, there exists a small portion of the city where,
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if you focus really hard,
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and ignore the occasional motor of a passing car,
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I swear -
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You'll be taken back 300 years.
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Fort Santiago, Manila, Philippines14.5937326 120.97078214.578366099999998 120.951041 14.6090991 120.990523tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-65806417354034173732011-12-09T01:15:00.001+08:002012-03-07T14:45:51.155+08:00Of Cheddar Cheese and Unicorn Steaks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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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.
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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 <i>(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).</i>
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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!
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-53712556473827545592011-11-25T15:01:00.001+08:002012-03-07T14:46:50.173+08:00Friendship<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Taken just as the night was winding down after dinner with friends on a rooftop.
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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.
<br><br>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-57429979170025512052011-11-18T02:19:00.001+08:002012-03-07T14:47:22.263+08:00The Best Camera<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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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,
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11/11/11 11:11:11pm was beautiful.
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We lit our lanterns, made a wish, and let both fly. Let's hope mine comes true.
<br><br>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1227026722782272942.post-89832000477015689432011-11-10T00:39:00.000+08:002011-11-10T13:15:56.063+08:00Postcards from Pulag<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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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.
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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.
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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 <i>(and the only four-wheel drive jeepney I've ever heard of)</i>, we hopped off while our driver helped the group ahead of us, as well as the next four groups, get through.
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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.
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<a name='more'></a>Upon leaving the ranger station to head to the mountains, the rains came, and came with a vengeance. It didn't stop pouring, and by the time we arrived at the second of three camp sites, it was too hard to continue. At this point we were about an hour and a half away from the summit, and although we planned on pitching our tents at the third camping spot, a much closer hike to the summit at 15 minutes, the winds were too much and the visibility was pretty much non-existent.
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After pitching our tent in the cold and pouring rain, we found out the hard way that we had neglected to bring two things - a ground sheet to keep water from seeping into the tent floor, and another sheet to keep water from dripping from the roof. So finally, damp and shivering, we managed to place our already drenched gear into garbage bags and find our positions in the tent. We ate a bit, and kept warm from the portable stove I had brought - right up until water dripped onto the spark plug of the stove and it refused to light. What had started out as a simple inconvenience had turned into a potential horror, with us definitely not enjoying the prospect of spending the next 12 hours in a cold pool of a tent, unable to find warmth in anything around us.
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The decision was quickly made to make a dash for a hut that we had seen earlier near our camp. This turned out to be a very good one for as soon as we arrived there we saw some guys from <a href="http://www.anywherephilippines.com/">Anywhere Philippines</a>, another group whom we had seen at the DENR office. They happened to be cooking dinner and upon seeing our sorry state quickly offered us succour in the form of dry clothes, heat, and what I swear to be the tastiest bowl of <i>Tinolang Manok**</i> I have ever slurped down.
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We finally managed to settle things down, set up wind breakers, and find a small spot on the ground on which to lie, although I chose to forgo sleep that night. On second thought, perhaps the wakefulness wasn't too much of an option - the numerous cups of coffee I had drank to keep warm had all but guaranteed that I wouldn't be sleeping for the next few <i>days</i>. I whiled away the next 7 hours talking to Dennis, a German exchange student at <a href="http://www.dlsu.edu.ph/">DLSU</a> who had also chosen not to sleep that night (for pretty much the same reasons as me, tent and all).
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Despite all that transpired, we went home in good spirits. We came for an adventure, and we got one, albeit a bit more than we had bargained for. It wasn't the adventure we were expecting, but definitely just as memorable as the best I've had. It would have been glorious had we witnessed the sunrise - this trip was the most prepared I've ever been, photographically speaking. It's a bit of a shame we weren't able to summit, but hope springs eternal. There's always a next time, and about four more trails I haven't taken. I may have lost the battle, but definitely not the war.
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*<i><b>Department of the Environment and Natural Resources</b> - one must first register with the local office of this agency before ascending the mountain</i>
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**<i><b>Tinolang Manok</b> - a Filipino soupy dish made out of chicken, ginger, papaya, and chili leaves</i>
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More photos <a href="http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150443592321346.414769.615816345&type=3&l=4dfb212113">here</a><br />
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