tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82645071070935368992024-03-12T21:16:04.153-04:00The 30 Before 30 Projectcelinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12632476377635373863noreply@blogger.comBlogger202125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-73455977317731156542011-09-02T14:30:00.000-04:002014-08-06T08:41:44.240-04:00The Happily Ever After Project<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uRiM6nrExCM/TaHMf-B3X1I/AAAAAAAAB8k/Zn8XSwKhnbQ/s1600/IMG_1146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uRiM6nrExCM/TaHMf-B3X1I/AAAAAAAAB8k/Zn8XSwKhnbQ/s640/IMG_1146.JPG" height="494" width="640" /></a></div>
What happens after 30?
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The day after my I officially hit 30, I slept for 14 hours straight. When I finally woke up, I was stunned that it was even possible for someone for sleep that long without being anesthesized. Such is the delicious exhaustion that comes with knocking off a list of 30 incredible things in the span of 14 months.<br />
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After writing my last post, I took a long hiatus from blogging and writing, and went about enjoying summer in the city and everything it had to offer. Through the madness and incessant hubbub of activity that is summer in New York, I realized that underneath it all I am a woman at peace. That desperate feeling of life having passed me by that dogged me in my late 20s was gone. Any feelings of inadequacy and insecurity had dissipated too; I know my place in the world and I'm secure in the knowledge of what I'm capable of. Best of all, I know that I am always surrounded and bolstered by friends and family who will love me and see me through anything. I am, for all intents and purposes, a happy, happy woman.<br />
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The strange thing, though, was realizing that while I'm perfectly happy to be where I am at the age of 30, to some people I seem to be, to put it as nicely as possible, a good wine that must be consumed right now lest I go off or need to be marked down. People constantly ask me whether I plan on getting married soon or whether I'm panicking that I'm not yet settled down. Well, on my own I feel absolutely no sense of panic, but mass hysteria catches on real quickly, you know ...<br />
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Which brings me to how I came up with my new blog: </div>
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<a href="http://www.thehappilyeverafterproject.com/"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1L08KWSqO0DhyphenhyphenLXpwTZ7wDL4RuC8bnSZIRbbzCYNSKnrakx1SvSxnJzth73lz3G_qXD2an-vOTA0vB9O14s8CFKu3bMUz4e8CR7NYma99nynJEz8VEnRqvsP0hlTyNJsXsmstPi8vEQ/s1600/logo-clippingmask.png" height="131" width="640" /></a></div>
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Part diary, part manifesto, it's my attempt to challenge myself and hopefully others to redefine what it means to live happily ever after. Since childhood, girls have been conditioned to think that happily ever after only begins once Prince Charming comes along to rescue us from our dreary lives. I like fairytale endings as much as the next person—but I'd like to believe finding Prince Charming isn't a prerequisite to happiness. This blog is my way of celebrating the happily ever after in the here and now, and I hope that you, my dear readers, will follow and join the conversation in this new project as you did with 30 Before 30.<br />
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If this has piqued your curiosity at all, I would be thrilled if you would visit The Happily Ever After Project at <a href="http://www.thehappilyeverafterproject.com/">http://www.thehappilyeverafterproject.com</a>.</div>
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Thank you all for your invaluable support and insights during 30 Before 30. Hopefully this isn't goodbye—just a segue into a new conversation!<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-1951294341477906112011-05-25T00:59:00.002-04:002014-08-24T10:13:33.690-04:00#30: Forgive.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bJ27Vrsh1EE/TdtL6M-5yjI/AAAAAAAACeY/JxP5jgcE9Xw/s1600/forgive.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bJ27Vrsh1EE/TdtL6M-5yjI/AAAAAAAACeY/JxP5jgcE9Xw/s640/forgive.jpg" height="366" width="640" /></a></div>
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Throughout the course of my 30 Before 30 Project, I've had to reflect on the meaning of forgiveness. When I wrote the word "Forgive" in the final spot on my list, it was born out of a wish to go back to the person that I used to be: someone who held no grudges and no ill feelings towards anyone, no matter what had transpired in the past. When I was writing my list, I thought that I needed to find my way back to being the person that I was before my life went into a tailspin in order to be happy again.<br />
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As the project progressed, however, I found out more about myself, what I'm capable of—and ultimately, what I'm worth. With every new friend made and every timeworn friendship made even stronger, I came to realize that these people that I adore having in my life also think of me as someone worth knowing and loving. With every fear overcome and seemingly insurmountable challenge conquered, I found out that I'm made of some pretty strong stuff. With every new place explored and new experience soaked up, I realized how much promise the future held.<br />
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Knowing all that, how could I want to go back?</div>
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But even though the original intention behind wanting to forgive didn't hold anymore, it was still something I couldn't let go of. Did I need to forgive the people who betrayed me? Did I need to forgive myself for not being more careful with who I allowed close enough to cause me real damage?<br />
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Forcing myself to forgive someone who hurt me in unfathomable ways made very little sense to me. That sort of forgiveness happens in its own time and cannot be given a deadline. <br />
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Forgiving myself seemed to be a good way to go. I spent a lot of time being very angry at myself for failing to protect myself. I've never had my own back. I jump into relationships littered with red flags just as easily as I do out of planes and towers, knowing I always manage to bounce back and not caring what I risk in the process. Sometimes, my daring leads me to incredible highs. But other times it brings me to gut-wrenching lows. Reflecting on my own role in the pitfalls of my life gave me a new sense of awareness and hopefully taught me lessons for the years and relationships to come.<br />
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It wasn't until Sunday morning, one day into turning 30, that I finally found a definition of forgiveness that brought me peace and closure. Together with a heartwarming birthday greeting, my friend Janine sent me a quote that finally put everything into perspective:</div>
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"Forgiveness is about giving up the hope that the past could have been any different."<br />
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- Oprah Winfrey</div>
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I still recall those first few days of heartbreak, when I would be doubled over in bed wracked with tears at the life that had fallen apart around me. I would have given anything then for things to go back to the way they were.<br />
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Now, a year and a half later, I wouldn't change any of it—not the mistakes made, the devastation wrought, the anger that swelled up, the resolve that came to reclaim my life, and especially not the grace that allowed me to turn the bitterness into something so, so sweet. <br />
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A week ago, <a href="http://www.theartofaudacity.com/how-to-find-out-what-youre-made-of-celine-novenario/">fellow blogger Lach interviewed me</a> and asked me what my biggest regret was. Before this project, I would've found it easy to come up with an answer but having gone through what I have over the past year and change, I said, "I can’t say that I have one. Good things came out of even the most painful events of my life, and I wouldn’t be the person I am if I hadn’t gone through it all—so no regrets."</div>
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So if forgiveness is indeed letting go of that hope that my past could be different, then I can say with all honesty and confidence that I've achieved that. <br />
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But at the end of it all, I don't know if I've earned the right to cross off #30 on my list. The truth is, it doesn't matter anymore. My little project has done so much more for me than I ever expected it to and I can't ask for anything more at this point.<br />
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During the interview, Lach also asked me what book changed my life and I told him that as cliché as it sounds, it's The Alchemist. And as always happens when I come to thinking about this book, I realize that despite reading it numerous times, I can never recall how the story ends.<br />
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That's because the point of the story was never the ending. It was about the colorful journey of a shepherd boy and how it was this journey that was ultimately his reward.<br />
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And I guess that's how my project ends, too. Did I succeed at crossing off everything on my list? It really doesn't matter. All that matters is that I've had the time of my life.</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-84110747015202735692011-05-24T00:45:00.000-04:002011-05-24T00:45:26.659-04:00Finding my cojones<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xjSF0ZAnxpg/TdsxmHDRNhI/AAAAAAAACeQ/N2cmQm8bQOY/s1600/espanol.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xjSF0ZAnxpg/TdsxmHDRNhI/AAAAAAAACeQ/N2cmQm8bQOY/s1600/espanol.png" width="565" /></a></div>As someone who takes pride in how she communicates her thoughts, I find trying to speak in a new language infinitely frustrating. So despite having taken Spanish classes for some time now, it still pains me to attempt to communicate in Spanish—particularly when I know the other person speaks English well anyway.<br />
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But it's pretty much impossible to learn how to speak a language without making yourself speak it, no matter how terribly. Lest I waste several more years studying and yet never learning Spanish, I added this to my list to get a good kick in the butt to keep trying. <br />
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I'm nowhere near where I'd like to be but I've been pushing myself to practice much more thanks to this list.<br />
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In Ibiza, French turned out to be a more useful language to know, given our Belgian party crew. But I took a few shots at ordering in Spanish and attempting to converse with a woman who had dinged our friend Alain's car. <br />
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In Mexico, I was much more agitated that I had to break out some Español when we got stopped at a military checkpoint than the actual fact that we were stopped at a military checkpoint (Thankfully they just wanted to know if we were going to sunbathe in Cancun. <i>Si, Señor!</i>). I got to use the language a teeny bit more to ask directions here and there. Very teeny tiny steps, but steps forward nonetheless.<br />
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While hanging out with Tamara, Michele and Juan in Macau, I got another chance to get some practice in. Granted, my two-minute conversation with Michele and Juan made sweatbeads appear on my forehead much quicker than our bungeejump off the tower, but at least I tried!<br />
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These days, the most stressful part of my workday is when my co-worker, dear sweet Paula, turns around from her chair and asks me random conversational questions in Spanish. I asked her to do this and I am so grateful that she does, but I hope the day will soon come when I won't feel like she's just asked me for the exact location of the Holy Grail every time we speak.<br />
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Crossing off this item is not as dramatic as most other things on my list, but it's one absolutely necessary item that has helped me quite a bit in overcoming something that I battle with quite regularly. People ask me if there's another list in the works now that I'm already 30 and the truth is, I haven't decided yet. But whether or not a new list comes to fruition, there's one thing I absolutely plan on tackling in the near future: Spend a month in a Spanish-speaking country for full-on Español immersion! </div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-68201727330321665812011-05-22T12:45:00.003-04:002011-05-23T10:52:42.313-04:00#21: Find my go-to karaoke song—CHECK!<div style="text-align: justify;">Finding my go-to karaoke song became such an obsession that during my last visit to the Philippines, I did the ultimate <i>balikbayan </i>move. For non-Filipinos, <i>balikbayan </i>is what overseas workers are called when they come back to the Motherland. In Filipino, "balik" means to return while "bayan" means country. There are two quick ways to spot a <i>balikbayan </i>in the Philippines: </div><ol><li>They are totally incapable of ordering anything other than a mango shake or a San Miguel beer to drink when at a restaurant. <div></div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">They can be found in otherwise deserted electronics stores looking for something called a "Magic Mic" or "Magic Sing." What on earth are such things? Let our boy Manny Pacquiao show you ...</div></li>
</ol><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEili-jB9nUfjdcit4CBfBeel4H6fFbwu-wI_9tDSWiIaOAQtZEBos4KbdMYoxQfXp35hbDVCvGOs6DhSa73me8U7DNNNsUt7rEJzrfJIGfwbDcOUfr9h1xJjSH3oMKpptLj56xlvjL4kmo/s1600/pacman2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEili-jB9nUfjdcit4CBfBeel4H6fFbwu-wI_9tDSWiIaOAQtZEBos4KbdMYoxQfXp35hbDVCvGOs6DhSa73me8U7DNNNsUt7rEJzrfJIGfwbDcOUfr9h1xJjSH3oMKpptLj56xlvjL4kmo/s1600/pacman2.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It's not just our hometown hero who <a href="http://youtu.be/dDs4Si1alGs">can't pass up the opportunity to belt out some tunes</a>. I do love a good karaoke session, and in my quest for my ultimate go-to karaoke song, we had plenty. Up until yesterday, I thought my go-to karaoke song should be Lady Gaga's <i>Bad Romance</i> after this hilariously fun karaoke sesh we had:</div><div align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="454" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ssffWNt9qVY" width="565"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But yesterday, as we were swilling wine in my living room and using the karaoke contraption I'd brought all the way from the Philippines, we stumbled upon the perfect karaoke song for me. Ladies and gents, presenting my ultimate go-to karaoke song: <i>Last Dance</i>. Try not to let my girlfriends' neverending yells to "Take it off!" and "Peel your shirt off!" distract you from the fact that this is an awesome karaoke song.</div><div align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="424" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/PoMYtZsnYp0" width="565"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So there it is! Another 30 Before 30 task crossed off. It may not be as impressive as a bungee jump or swimming with the whalesharks but it was a great excuse to have a hell of a good time getting my karaoke on with my friends! </div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-13097592273494064762011-05-21T13:16:00.001-04:002011-05-23T16:55:50.819-04:00Birthday Blog Advisory<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i42XaC4xe_I/TdrJhgrMHpI/AAAAAAAACeI/MNE4OsipGm8/s1600/mezcal+worm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i42XaC4xe_I/TdrJhgrMHpI/AAAAAAAACeI/MNE4OsipGm8/s1600/mezcal+worm.jpg" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The big day has finally arrived! Due to a hangover caused by this little sucker and its many liquid friends, I am unable to whip up eloquent posts at the moment. Blog posting will resume after The Hangover and its many anticipated sequels. Unless, of course, we get sidetracked by The End of the World. In which case, I'd like to say it was nice knowing you all and boy, am I glad I did this little project!</div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-62439768214947184832011-05-20T14:33:00.002-04:002011-05-20T14:33:57.698-04:00#06: Master a 5-course gourmet meal—CHECK!<div style="text-align: justify;">I never thought I'd ever be in the kitchen intentionally setting a wine reduction on fire, but there I was on Wednesday, apprehensively watching three bottles of cabernet sauvignon go up in flames: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XH0WHJNqwEQ/Tdau7Fg7fnI/AAAAAAAACdc/T4GlkN9IffI/s1600/IMG_0071.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XH0WHJNqwEQ/Tdau7Fg7fnI/AAAAAAAACdc/T4GlkN9IffI/s640/IMG_0071.jpg" width="565px" /></a></div><div align="justify">The unknown factor for my epic 5-course meal was the main course: beef short ribs braised in red wine following a <a href="http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Daniel-Bouluds-Short-Ribs-Braised-in-Red-Wine-with-Celery-Duo-106671">recipe of Daniel Boulud</a> sent to me by my friend Ludette. I was extra worried about this course because I only had one shot at it and had to do it unsupervised. But it all went by without a hitch. I started out by boiling three bottles of wine, setting it aflame and reducing it down to half. Then I prepped the vegetables and rubbed down those gorgeous hunks of beef short ribs with oil, salt and pepper, plus a little drizzle of flour.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cjjMZsMokGc/TdUOM9ciBNI/AAAAAAAACac/NroB7Nn2ujY/s1600/IMG_0069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cjjMZsMokGc/TdUOM9ciBNI/AAAAAAAACac/NroB7Nn2ujY/s1600/IMG_0069.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KWnnUkOvMuM/TdUONyQwh6I/AAAAAAAACao/4c_V8zcS31Q/s1600/IMG_0072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="565px" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KWnnUkOvMuM/TdUONyQwh6I/AAAAAAAACao/4c_V8zcS31Q/s1600/IMG_0072.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I've always been scared of getting splashed with hot oil so the word "sear" tends to strike fear into my heart. The fact that Chef Boulud says that the secret to the success of this dish is browning the ribs well to get all that yummy flavor into the sauce made the task even more intimidating. But I pulled it off and I feel it's largely thanks to Ludette's beautiful Le Creuset dutch oven, which heats so evenly that browning the ribs was no trouble at all ...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zn7mQCb1hpk/TdUONyaTjFI/AAAAAAAACas/vXaG5qGeFIg/s1600/IMG_0074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zn7mQCb1hpk/TdUONyaTjFI/AAAAAAAACas/vXaG5qGeFIg/s1600/IMG_0074.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div>After removing the seared ribs from the pot, it was time to throw in the vegetables and herbs.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yP1KsRbR9wY/TdUOnoBGBOI/AAAAAAAACaw/p5-v_KrE3aQ/s1600/IMG_0076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yP1KsRbR9wY/TdUOnoBGBOI/AAAAAAAACaw/p5-v_KrE3aQ/s1600/IMG_0076.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Shortly thereafter, I added in some tomato paste, then the ribs, red wine reduction and beef stock. Putting the heavy pot into the oven was another nerve-wracking part but thankfully I managed to do it without all my hard work ending up splattered on the floor. I left it to braise in the oven for 2 1/2 hours and went about doing other things like laundry and preparing the molten chocolate magic cake batter for the next day. At the end of the night, I had this beauty chilling on my stove: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SMH9jfXDGYw/TdUOnlafisI/AAAAAAAACa8/SQrrVovL9nA/s1600/IMG_0085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SMH9jfXDGYw/TdUOnlafisI/AAAAAAAACa8/SQrrVovL9nA/s1600/IMG_0085.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div align="justify">I could barely contain my excitement at the sight of the meat, which was so tender it was falling off the bone! I left the pot out to cool then refrigerated it to continue the process the next day.<br />
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Thursday after work, I pulled the pot out of the fridge and found a thick layer of fat had risen to the surface. I scooped out as much of the fat out as possible and discarded it, then reheated the pot on the stove. Once the meat was heated through, I took the ribs out of the braising liquid. They were beautiful and absolutely delicious, even without the sauce!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qbK06mSq6T4/TdaFUhfxLHI/AAAAAAAACcw/YOM9KibfSCs/s1600/zee+ribs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qbK06mSq6T4/TdaFUhfxLHI/AAAAAAAACcw/YOM9KibfSCs/s1600/zee+ribs.jpg" width="565px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I did intend to serve it with sauce though, so I let the braising liquid boil until it reduced into something thick and super tasty.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-28EaAC_pTyU/TdaFWF5ZkGI/AAAAAAAACdU/pXgCZXmZ8Sg/s1600/reduce+baby+reduce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-28EaAC_pTyU/TdaFWF5ZkGI/AAAAAAAACdU/pXgCZXmZ8Sg/s1600/reduce+baby+reduce.jpg" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">At this point, my guests started to arrive so I presented them with my fool-proof first course: baked brie with apples, golden raisins and walnuts.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pBWFfzEHSxg/TdaFVl9vOcI/AAAAAAAACdQ/FO8Zyjq1phA/s1600/baked+brie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pBWFfzEHSxg/TdaFVl9vOcI/AAAAAAAACdQ/FO8Zyjq1phA/s1600/baked+brie.jpg" width="565px" /></a></div>God I love that dish. So easy. While they snacked on that, I got started on the second course. I made garlic croutons, grilled some asparagus on the broiler, and poached some eggs (Holla!).<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Iy6clCaDRJo/TdaFVYR77UI/AAAAAAAACdI/aHIyObVBloA/s1600/246658_10150601413670580_529985579_18576096_5121650_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Iy6clCaDRJo/TdaFVYR77UI/AAAAAAAACdI/aHIyObVBloA/s640/246658_10150601413670580_529985579_18576096_5121650_n.jpg" width="492px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">There were no egg casualties this time. You gotta admit, that it is one beautiful poached egg in that salad. Mitch approves.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w2uXwDvHNoA/TdaFUlHXO_I/AAAAAAAACcs/pSWvx607Am8/s1600/2nd+course.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w2uXwDvHNoA/TdaFUlHXO_I/AAAAAAAACcs/pSWvx607Am8/s640/2nd+course.jpg" width="492px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Then, it was time to sear scallops. I got a fresh batch from Whole Foods before coming home that only needed some salt and pepper before going into the pan. Here I am in basting action ...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lzLl7i4L3-U/TdaFVt-NNSI/AAAAAAAACdM/SV0QpIB2-V0/s1600/baste+baby+baste.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lzLl7i4L3-U/TdaFVt-NNSI/AAAAAAAACdM/SV0QpIB2-V0/s640/baste+baby+baste.jpg" width="492px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Full disclusure: this meal would not have been such a success had Mitch not been there as I constantly bombarded her with questions like, "Is the oil hot enough? .... What about now?" I may be feeling more comfortable in the kitchen these days but I still need some adult supervision. In any case, I did manage to come up with some truly beautiful and very yummy seared scallops.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sRkv1g8TgJ4/TdYEPBNu7NI/AAAAAAAACbg/AvFKjU7CBCs/s1600/IMG_0089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sRkv1g8TgJ4/TdYEPBNu7NI/AAAAAAAACbg/AvFKjU7CBCs/s1600/IMG_0089.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">A significant delay followed because we decided the short ribs should come with some mashed potatoes. But when we finally got to dig into the fourth course, we all enjoyed the super tender and flavorful shortribs. The mashed potatoes need some more work but I can live with that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lbhb_uk5GHg/TdaFVAimL_I/AAAAAAAACc8/yeNu2a64mO8/s1600/4th+course.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lbhb_uk5GHg/TdaFVAimL_I/AAAAAAAACc8/yeNu2a64mO8/s1600/4th+course.jpg" width="565px" /></a></div><div align="justify">After my failed molten chocolate attempt on Monday, I was overly concerned about leaving the cake in the oven for too long. In the end, it turned out to be a great success and most of the chocolate cake disappeared within minutes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yZSP2vEq30k/TdaFVUpFfTI/AAAAAAAACdE/XVadpHqNwD8/s1600/5th+course.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yZSP2vEq30k/TdaFVUpFfTI/AAAAAAAACdE/XVadpHqNwD8/s640/5th+course.jpg" width="492px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So I'm proud to report that I am entering my 30s capable of putting one delicious five-course meal on the table! A lot of the things on my list consisted of chasing after my youth but this was one of the few that had to do with preparing for adulthood, so it was very satisfying and reassuring that I was able to come through. For someone who only learned how to turn on a stove at the age of 23, you gotta admit this is a massive breakthrough!<br />
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A big thank you to my dearest friends who patiently taught me and ate my food, for better or worse, throughout this process. My future family, who will have to survive on my cooking, thanks you all!<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PKFWwJp_hbE/TdYEPAQ32SI/AAAAAAAACbo/qbAeBZxgM5A/s1600/IMG_0087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PKFWwJp_hbE/TdYEPAQ32SI/AAAAAAAACbo/qbAeBZxgM5A/s1600/IMG_0087.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdsxvU93CTsT70q4KqGxoQRLNRBuM56Z0JzTKAiFhvNSWYYwpd6G-2fK2uEr1U7-GsWkdwBTO9miXMN3Cc22l9YxN4tCVD-ykPLHvDb9zFcCqyVudbKN9VenAXUKfLlah9GN175jNkdtc/s1600/162669_481350460517_671390517_6563373_1138356_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdsxvU93CTsT70q4KqGxoQRLNRBuM56Z0JzTKAiFhvNSWYYwpd6G-2fK2uEr1U7-GsWkdwBTO9miXMN3Cc22l9YxN4tCVD-ykPLHvDb9zFcCqyVudbKN9VenAXUKfLlah9GN175jNkdtc/s1600/162669_481350460517_671390517_6563373_1138356_n.jpg" width="565px" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lg8Nu3HtGnE/TdUFTzzhOGI/AAAAAAAACZo/SL8UN7VgIWY/s1600/IMG_0030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lg8Nu3HtGnE/TdUFTzzhOGI/AAAAAAAACZo/SL8UN7VgIWY/s1600/IMG_0030.jpg" width="400px" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-25566115271494154842011-05-19T08:21:00.000-04:002011-05-19T08:21:52.537-04:00Egg Poaching 101<div style="text-align: justify;">People do funny things when they're drunk. Some get more promiscuous, others start dancing on tables, and still others fall into a crying, self-loathing spiral. Me? I crawl into the nearest bed and promptly pass out. Oh, and I apparently like to talk about poached eggs.</div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">A few months ago, while inebriated on beer and whisky, I spent an entire conversation harassing a chef to teach me how to poach an egg. The poached egg is an enigma to me—those delicate little satchels that cradle heavenly runny yolks. When the idea came to me to do an asparagus, prosciutto and poached egg salad for my five-course meal project, I was equal parts giddy and petrified. My learning how to poach an egg would be the equivalent of Santiago (the shepherd boy in <i>The Alchemist</i>) figuring out how to turn lead into gold. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The dream was to create a something resembling this beauty from Thomas Keller's Ad Hoc at Home cookbook:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OQ5Dnijp8Po/Tc_EFAmfPHI/AAAAAAAACYU/zU4Fow_7kO4/s1600/IMG_0012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OQ5Dnijp8Po/Tc_EFAmfPHI/AAAAAAAACYU/zU4Fow_7kO4/s1600/IMG_0012.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On a Saturday morning, Zoe and Mat came over to my place to help me achieve the dream. To ensure my friends wouldn't starve lest I eff up the poaching, I served them the cheese course I plan on including in my 5-course meal: baked brie with apples, golden raisins and walnuts. I love making this when friends come over for wine and cheese. So easy but delicious!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2ZmU1CBvhZ8/TdR1QvL7ONI/AAAAAAAACZg/-eJsQ8YPb0s/s1600/IMG_0017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2ZmU1CBvhZ8/TdR1QvL7ONI/AAAAAAAACZg/-eJsQ8YPb0s/s1600/IMG_0017.JPG" width="565" /></a></div>This foolproof course plus a big baguette would tide us over until I got the hang of this egg poaching thing. Once reasonably full, I set up the egg poaching station with all the essentials: vinegar, slotted spoon, ramekins, ice bath and of course, a dozen eggs.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s5tuHCFz6UY/Tc_CkO8rCdI/AAAAAAAACXg/z3hJqS80bK0/s1600/IMG_0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s5tuHCFz6UY/Tc_CkO8rCdI/AAAAAAAACXg/z3hJqS80bK0/s1600/IMG_0019.JPG" width="565" /></a></div>There are myriad ways to make "perfectly poached eggs" but the general idea is that you need simmering water with a little bit of vinegar in a pan to do it. The Ad Hoc at Home cookbook said I needed 6-8 inches of water, others less. Some will tell you to stir that water vigorously to <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/wordofmouth/2010/sep/16/how-make-perfect-poached-egg">create a vortex to drop the egg into</a>, while others don't mention stirring at all. I can tell you that the vortex method did not work for me. Zoe thought keeping this little egg graveyard by the stove would keep me from repeating my mistakes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wq3JKjiWvm8/Tc_Cj_fg12I/AAAAAAAACXY/-djKLIRWvRQ/s1600/IMG_0022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wq3JKjiWvm8/Tc_Cj_fg12I/AAAAAAAACXY/-djKLIRWvRQ/s1600/IMG_0022.JPG" width="565" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After two botched attempts, I was feeling disheartened. But then we found <a href="http://youtu.be/Bxvxwk3TFPQ">this YouTube video</a> that put us on the right track. Zoe and Mat each took a turn, et voila!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9I1Pmh9wZaI/Tc_CkO9ef2I/AAAAAAAACXc/jooUchtDMRw/s1600/IMG_0023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9I1Pmh9wZaI/Tc_CkO9ef2I/AAAAAAAACXc/jooUchtDMRw/s1600/IMG_0023.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lg8Nu3HtGnE/TdUFTzzhOGI/AAAAAAAACZo/SL8UN7VgIWY/s1600/IMG_0030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lg8Nu3HtGnE/TdUFTzzhOGI/AAAAAAAACZo/SL8UN7VgIWY/s1600/IMG_0030.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">That the two of them made perfect poached eggs on their first try definitely put the pressure on! I was so nervous when I slipped that egg into the water, you would think I was <a href="http://www.30before30project.com/2011/05/8-bungee-jumpcheck.html">jumping off a tower</a> or something. But I stayed calm and corralled that egg into a little oval just like the lady in the video did, and lo and behold ...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wrxyiGI6iZI/Tc_Cmimbc0I/AAAAAAAACX8/ofKGdmmzigE/s1600/IMG_0040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wrxyiGI6iZI/Tc_Cmimbc0I/AAAAAAAACX8/ofKGdmmzigE/s1600/IMG_0040.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tFiwdRXtk_Q/Tc_CnGX2-yI/AAAAAAAACYQ/bl1LO4czlX8/s1600/IMG_0041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tFiwdRXtk_Q/Tc_CnGX2-yI/AAAAAAAACYQ/bl1LO4czlX8/s1600/IMG_0041.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">That, my friends, is pure unadulterated JOY. You would think I'd found the holy grail or something—which it kind of is for me. The thought that I can have poached eggs anytime I want just blew my mind. After grilling some asparagus on the broiler and Zoe making a lovely batch of garlic croutons, we had this lovely plate to dig into:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hOwV5BIQOaU/Tc_CnACBYVI/AAAAAAAACYA/fZhwDvZOOfc/s1600/IMG_0044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hOwV5BIQOaU/Tc_CnACBYVI/AAAAAAAACYA/fZhwDvZOOfc/s1600/IMG_0044.JPG" width="565" /></a></div>A priceless cooking skill learned and one more course checked off! Up next: braised short ribs.<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-6924458473875379362011-05-18T12:05:00.001-04:002011-05-18T12:11:09.061-04:00An Early Birthday Present<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l164S1MDvGA/TdPqnuOB3tI/AAAAAAAACZY/V-AR0RgvZ4g/s1600/balloons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l164S1MDvGA/TdPqnuOB3tI/AAAAAAAACZY/V-AR0RgvZ4g/s1600/balloons.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I got a lovely gift today from fellow <a href="http://www.theartofaudacity.com/awesomeness/">listomaniac</a> and fear crusher Lach over at <a href="http://www.theartofaudacity.com/">The Art of Audacity</a>. It's one of my favorite blogs—so well-designed and written with purpose. The blogosphere is full of would-be inspirational gurus who will write post after post of how to's but rarely actually show themselves walking the talk. Lach isn't one of those; his blog talks about crushing fear and shows him actually doing it—whether he's <a href="http://www.theartofaudacity.com/skydiving-pattaya-thailand/">skydiving</a>, <a href="http://www.theartofaudacity.com/bungee-jumping-chiang-mai/">bungee-jumping</a>, <a href="http://www.theartofaudacity.com/how-to-swim-with-sharks-bangkok-thailand/">swimming with the sharks</a> or, scariest of all, <a href="http://www.theartofaudacity.com/no-more-mr-nice-guy/">up and quitting his job</a>! So when he preaches, I say amen—and when he asked if he could do a post on lil 'ol me, I did a happy little dance of joy and fired away at those questions. So please do check it out <a href="http://www.theartofaudacity.com/how-to-find-out-what-youre-made-of-celine-novenario/">over here</a>.<br />
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</div>Thanks Lach! I'm off to kill the rest of the list ... 3 days and counting to the big 3-0!<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-25829287266523134642011-05-17T08:39:00.003-04:002011-05-17T16:26:19.438-04:00Pole Position"Are you really doing pole dancing now?"<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A0gf582j2Hc/TdKf_-qouAI/AAAAAAAACZA/KaZ5pMyhEeo/s1600/P1000196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A0gf582j2Hc/TdKf_-qouAI/AAAAAAAACZA/KaZ5pMyhEeo/s1600/P1000196.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div>I paused in mid-bite at my mom's question. It was the last week of December 2010, when a blizzard of epic proportions snarled holiday travel and kept plane schedules in utter chaos for days. I was having lunch at my parents' house in Seattle, on the opposite coast from the city I call home, with no escape hatchet. My mom finally had the chance to call me out on the craziness of the past year—the <a href="http://www.30before30project.com/search/label/%2305%20skydive">skydiving</a>, <a href="http://www.30before30project.com/search/label/%2311%20go%20on%20a%20road%20trip">road tripping</a>, <a href="http://www.30before30project.com/2010/08/road-trip-stop-1-zion.html">hiking up sheer cliffs</a>, <a href="http://www.30before30project.com/search/label/%2307%20learn%20to%20surf">disappearing to Portugal on a solo surf trip</a>, <a href="http://www.30before30project.com/2010/05/18-ride-motorcyclecheck.html">riding a motorcycle</a> ... there was so much to potentially yell at me for. Is she really calling me out on <i>pole dancing</i>?</div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">"I'm doing it for exercise," I said, shoving the spoonful of rice in my mouth. "It's great for building upper body strength."<br />
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The next sentence uttered at the dinner table nearly had me spewing my food back out: "It's really popular now. A lot of people do it for exercise."</div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Those words came out of the mouth of my dad, of all people. The same dad who made my date and I go to the prom in separate cars. The same dad who refused to budge on my 12 midnight curfew for years. The same dad who never wavered in his belief that 25 is the appropriate age for having one's <i>very first boyfriend</i>. Did he really just exhibit total open-mindedness towards my exotic new hobby?</div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">It just goes to show how much the perception of pole dancing has changed in recent years. Once the exclusive territory of working girls in gentleman's clubs, pole dancing may still raise eyebrows but it's become a legitimate workout for women around the world. There are pole dancing schools and competitions now, and some gyms include pole dancing in the workouts they provide—right along with yoga, Pilates and kickboxing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">If you watch these amazing videos of chamion pole dancer Laurence Hilsum, you'll see how pole dancing can be elevated to an art form, beyond the usual raunchy bump and grind people associate it with.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="454" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/3J45RAqtX6Y" width="565"></iframe><br />
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I've always been curious about pole dancing, primarily because dance is one of the great loves of my life and I am simply interested in trying all forms. But I also grew up in a very conservative society and was schooled entirely in Catholic private schools—in such an environment, one's sexuality is all but denied and it's difficult to feel comfortable in your own womanly skin.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I still recall being in my teens and rehearsing a fiery, flamenco-influenced modern ballet piece called <i>Alegria</i> at Steps Ballet School back in the Philippines. "More passion, girls!" our ballet mistress, Sofia Zobel urged us as we went through the steps. "Oh boy," she said to another teacher as she watched her timid ballerinas' feeble attempt at the impassioned dance, "you need to take these girls out tonight. They don't know what passion is!" </div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">That memory zips into my head every now and then when at a pole-dancing class. Apart from being a hardcore workout, pole-dancing is an exercise in getting to know your sensual self. Oftentimes, women are made to tone down or altogether deny a very natural part of who they are. But there's so much power that comes from embracing and celebrating your sensual side, and I like how pole dancing allows this. After years of putting it off, my 30 Before 30 project finally got me off my butt and onto a pole, and it has been one of the most fun workouts I've ever done. While it had to take a backseat to my running, adventuring and general globe-trotting these past few months, I look forward to picking it up again once the project winds down and I have more time on my hands. It is such a demanding workout and I'm light years away from being any good at it, but I love a good challenge and plan on conquering that pole in due time ...</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">In case there are any lingering doubts about my intentions for taking on this hobby, here's one final story. Sometime last year, I got a message from a Vegas-based friend who asked what I was planning on doing with these new tricks I'm learning. "I manage a gentleman's club in Vegas now if you want to perform," he said. After wiping away the tears of laughter from the hysterics that message put me in, I shot him back a message saying congratulations on the gig and thank you for the offer but I really truly am just pole dancing for exercise. It's cool to know that if I'm really hard up for cash though, there's the possibility of a fall-back career ...</div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-43817692576355718222011-05-14T06:53:00.005-04:002011-05-15T01:45:54.485-04:00#8: Bungee jump—CHECK!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qYTuAILl8rw/Tcu8LkqwyqI/AAAAAAAACUE/dIlsNuhKRwk/s1600/DSC07703.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qYTuAILl8rw/Tcu8LkqwyqI/AAAAAAAACUE/dIlsNuhKRwk/s1600/DSC07703.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On a Saturday morning in Hong Kong, I woke up an hour before my alarm went off with a single thought: <i>After today, you really should stop trying to off yourself.</i></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">The morning I was scheduled to <a href="http://macau.ajhackett.com/products/index.html">leap off the Macau Tower tethered to a bungee cord</a>, I found myself wondering why on earth I decided bungee jumping was something I just <i>had</i> to do before turning 30. I'd done some risky things over the last few weeks: <a href="http://www.30before30project.com/2011/04/19-hike-to-mt-pinatubos-cratercheck.html">hiking through deserted lahar fields to take a dip in the crater of an active volcano</a>, <a href="http://www.30before30project.com/2011/05/2-swim-with-whale-sharks-in-donsolcheck.html">swimming with whale sharks the size of a Greyhound bus</a> and <a href="http://www.30before30project.com/2011/05/16-go-spelunking-in-sagadacheck.html">spelunking through pitch-black caves with sheer vertical drops</a>. But looking back, I did all of that to see something spectacular that I wouldn't otherwise be able to set eyes on. So why did I want to leap off the edge of a 233-meter high tower again? I could see that spectacular view of Macau by taking a 1-minute elevator ride.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l-q8Tb1fUc4/Tc24Z3A29yI/AAAAAAAACUs/A3UpdDu0fTM/s1600/DSC07681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l-q8Tb1fUc4/Tc24Z3A29yI/AAAAAAAACUs/A3UpdDu0fTM/s1600/DSC07681.JPG" width="565" /></a></div>And what kind of sick mind would want to mimic a suicidal act like jumping off a tower anyway? <i>You and your stupid quarter-life crisis, Celine.</i></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">But I'd set the plans in motion and there was no turning back now. I'd flown into Hong Kong on my way back to New York from Manila to spend the weekend with my good friend Tamara. I'd booked her, her boyfriend Michele, his friend Juan and myself to do the highest bungee in the world off Macau Tower months ago. When I got there, all of them shook their heads at me, saying I really hadn't given them a choice in the matter and it was my fault they were all doing this. Clearly, there's no coercing anyone into leaping off a tower, but I knew I had to man up.</div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Tamara and I left Hong Kong on the 9:30am ferry to Macau to make it to our 11:30am bungee appointment. By the time we docked, I had finished a good cup of coffee and was entranced by the sight of this city that melded Portuguese and Chinese influences, and whose cup seemed to runneth over with opulence from its thriving casino industry. Again, I berated myself. <i>Why couldn't you just have a relaxed visit to this city?</i> Sightsee, eat good food, shop, go to the spa ... all those lovely non-life-threatening things normal folks do. <i>Why do you have to jump off a freaking tower first thing in the morning, Celine? Why???</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NtSsN9Gd9JY/Tcu-RxKdQaI/AAAAAAAACUM/X7MA12JbwXg/s1600/DSC07708.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NtSsN9Gd9JY/Tcu-RxKdQaI/AAAAAAAACUM/X7MA12JbwXg/s640/DSC07708.JPG" width="490" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The part that bothered me the most about bungee-jumping was the thought that I would have to stand at the edge of the tower and, using that wonderful thing called free will, decide to leap off. How was I going to manage that? Don't humans come with built-in survival instincts? Wouldn't every fiber of my body just rebel against the idea of going from ledge to thin air?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">If you've been following my exploits, this must sound a little strange since this wasn't exactly my first time to leap from great heights; <a href="http://www.30before30project.com/search/label/%2305%20skydive">I did jump off a plane last June</a>. But jumping out of a plane is different. From 14,000 feet up, the earth looks pretty abstract. The possibility of smashing into the ground is not quite as glaring. But from 764 feet, the concrete is very, very real. Plus, there's also the fact that you have to do this on your own. When I skydived, I had an instructor who jumps off planes 20 times a day strapped to my back, and that's reassuring. This time, it was all me. I would have to throw myself off that platform and swan dive with nothing but the wind on my back. Petrifying thought.</div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Once we got off the taxi at Macau Tower, it felt as if someone had pressed the fast forward button. It all happened so quickly. There was no line at the first floor ticket stand, and we were told we could pay for our packages and the tower pass right there. "You get a discount if you pay for it now," the AJ Hackett representative told us. Then she added the clincher, "But no refunds." I handed over my AMEX knowing there was no turning back from here on out.</div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">We were ushered into the elevator and in a minute and change, we were on the 61st floor. We were given waivers to sign (a very short one compared to the book-like waiver I signed for skydiving) and complimentary t-shirts to wear. For a MOP 20 deposit, we got a locker to stow our things, and were instructed to remove all jewelry and completely empty pockets. As soon as we stepped out of the dressing room, we were strapped into harnesses, weighed and brought out to the jumping platform.</div><br />
"Who's going first?"<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">"I am," I answered, raising my hand. I was told to sit on a metal table and bindings were swiftly attached to my feet.</div><br />
"It's all happening so fast!" I said to Tamara.<br />
<br />
"It's much better if it goes quickly," said one of the attendants.<br />
<br />
"It gives you less time to change your mind, I guess," Tamara mused.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">As they fiddled with my bindings, I saw that a crowd of tourists had gathered at the deck, cameras whipped out waiting for me to jump. The videographer asked me if there was anything I wanted to say.</div><br />
"It's been nice knowing you all," I said with a nervous laugh.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9wfhSJmdBbc/TcXd6gJgPHI/AAAAAAAACTg/wP0JVCIf9WM/s1600/DSC_0020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9wfhSJmdBbc/TcXd6gJgPHI/AAAAAAAACTg/wP0JVCIf9WM/s1600/DSC_0020.JPG" width="565" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I was given final instructions once my bindings were in place. After the recoil, pull the strap attached to the feet bindings so that I'll flip right side up and get lowered to the ground feet first. Take baby steps to the edge of the platform, spread your arms out to the side, look to the right when we tell you to (to smile/wave/flip the finger at the guy taking your video), and at the count of three, lean over the edge until you start to fall. </div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">"Two minutes," one of the jump masters said, and I was asked to stand up and they continued to check on every cable attached to me. At this point, I allowed my mind to go blank. I was resigned—nay, committed, to my fate. Once you're tied up in the harness with feet bound out on a windy platform, you know this is it. No turning back now. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wUB0pJI_kq4/TcXc5EereLI/AAAAAAAACTY/63-CqKkCfY0/s1600/DSC_0026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wUB0pJI_kq4/TcXc5EereLI/AAAAAAAACTY/63-CqKkCfY0/s640/DSC_0026.JPG" width="439" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Soon I was taking my baby steps to the edge. I kept my chin up, looking at the pale turquoise waters of the Pearl River and those glittering casino buildings beyond. I refused to look down. I refused to think too hard about what I was about to do. The jump masters told me to stretch my hands out and look to the right to give the videographer and photographer their shot. After that, I knew what was coming.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"3, 2, 1 ... "</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I let go.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KaLBOW7FQcE/Tc5GzEcHuTI/AAAAAAAACVI/WjJfLSavG04/s1600/DSC_0034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KaLBOW7FQcE/Tc5GzEcHuTI/AAAAAAAACVI/WjJfLSavG04/s640/DSC_0034.JPG" width="438" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B9-48QMO27I/TcXiV65WRPI/AAAAAAAACTs/sWRkAUvZLFY/s1600/DSC_0035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B9-48QMO27I/TcXiV65WRPI/AAAAAAAACTs/sWRkAUvZLFY/s640/DSC_0035.JPG" width="438" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_Nj4gZ3jEwo/Tc5G8RQX6nI/AAAAAAAACVM/E2rhjca3P38/s1600/DSC_0036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_Nj4gZ3jEwo/Tc5G8RQX6nI/AAAAAAAACVM/E2rhjca3P38/s640/DSC_0036.JPG" width="438" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The first few seconds of freefall are quite possibly the most petrifying I've ever had. When you jump out of a plane, you fall with such speed that it doesn't really feel like falling. But when you jump off a tower—hell yes, you know you are freaking falling. The bloodcurdling scream came ripping out of my chest.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CUsgYpUVEKs/Tc5SNcbNIZI/AAAAAAAACVc/qXbyHyxirIw/s1600/DSC_0040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CUsgYpUVEKs/Tc5SNcbNIZI/AAAAAAAACVc/qXbyHyxirIw/s640/DSC_0040.JPG" width="438" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">And then, just as suddenly as it came, the fear was gone. It was overtaken by the adrenaline rush, and my brain started to scream, "Holy crap, you crazy woman, this is amazing!!!" My shriek of terror turned into a yell of joy, and I realized I wasn't afraid anymore and I was loving every millisecond of this mad leap of faith.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-95TWJoLOUiw/TcXjwLYv5aI/AAAAAAAACRw/1ZPDxOZig10/s1600/DSC_0045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-95TWJoLOUiw/TcXjwLYv5aI/AAAAAAAACRw/1ZPDxOZig10/s640/DSC_0045.JPG" width="438" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HRTpB_0hT78/Tc5T3FcIh6I/AAAAAAAACVs/HgQ-TMkBRtQ/s1600/DSC_0056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HRTpB_0hT78/Tc5T3FcIh6I/AAAAAAAACVs/HgQ-TMkBRtQ/s640/DSC_0056.JPG" width="438" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">My jump ended with a smooth stop; not a bouncy recoil, as I expected. AJ Hackett uses cables to guide the bungee cord, to ensure the jumper doesn't recoil towards the tower (v. dangerous, as you can imagine). It definitely makes for a reassuring bungee jump, but I couldn't help but wonder what an organic bungee jump would feel like ... </div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">After unhitching my feet from the harness, I turned right-side up and was gently lowered to the airbag, where AJ Hackett representatives were waiting for me. Once I was down, I realized my legs were shaking from the experience. After the harness was removed, I sat at the outdoor tables to watch my friends come flying down, one after the other. It's quite a thrill, as well, to just sit there and watch the bungee jumpers. One second you're looking up at a sun-drenched tower. The next there's a body hurtling down towards the ground at 200 kilometers per hour.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Everyone came off the bungee with exhilarated smiles, relishing the thrill and absorbing the shock that they had done something so extreme. We spent the rest of our afternoon in Macau on a high from the experience.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">That night, back in Hong Kong, we watched our videos while having dinner on a rooftop overlooking the city. I found some comic relief at the narration of the videographer, who funnily enough was also Filipino and had the thickest Pinoy accent ever. I had to laugh when he said it wasn't a wonder I wasn't afraid because I'm from the "home of the brave." When the video reached the actual jump, my heart pumped at the sight of myself falling off the ledge and plummeting to the ground. I couldn't believe I really did that.</div><div align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="454" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/bu77OwlQMi8" width="565"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: justify;">And yet, as we continued to watch the reels of AJ Hackett bungee jumps all over the world, I couldn't help but wonder ... What would a bungee jump without the guide cords feel like? How cool would it be to jump and dip your hands and head into the water below? What would it be like to jump into a forest ... or off a bridge ... or ...</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">... and then a stern little voice chimed up in my head: <i>Celine, I thought you would stop doing crazy things after this one?</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">A wicked little smile spread on my lips. We'll see about that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xi0y7r4IEZw/Tc0ahfetu1I/AAAAAAAACUg/XHATCRGQB0s/s1600/DSC07683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xi0y7r4IEZw/Tc0ahfetu1I/AAAAAAAACUg/XHATCRGQB0s/s1600/DSC07683.JPG" width="565" /></a></div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a><br />
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<i>A massive thank you to Tamara and Michele for being such wonderful hosts and to Juan for taking a big gulp of the crazy sauce!</i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-9809356520067384612011-05-10T17:19:00.000-04:002011-05-10T17:19:40.234-04:00#16: Go spelunking in Sagada—CHECK!<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f8-yXoLlESU/TcXlcTGXZVI/AAAAAAAACOk/nnLwAanr3LM/s1600/loving+it.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f8-yXoLlESU/TcXlcTGXZVI/AAAAAAAACOk/nnLwAanr3LM/s1600/loving+it.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div>I felt like a fraud when I took my first bite of my Hiker's Breakfast one early morning at Sagada's Yoghurt House. All we planned on doing that day was to try out some <i>alamid</i> coffee and spelunk through Sumaging Cave to see the stunning stalactite and stalagmite formations within. I didn't think the activity would be a piece of cake but it didn't necessitate a massive banana and yoghurt-filled blueberry pancake, two eggs over easy and toast:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aO29g1y0iTw/TcXoGX8ueqI/AAAAAAAACNQ/P7hoQdFw43Q/s1600/IMG_0189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aO29g1y0iTw/TcXoGX8ueqI/AAAAAAAACNQ/P7hoQdFw43Q/s1600/IMG_0189.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It's a good thing I fueled up though because we ended up doing more than we had initially bargained for.<br />
<br />
After breakfast and some <i>alamid</i> coffee at Bana's Coffee House, we set off with our guide Andrew from Sagada Genuine Guides Association (SAGGA). Our plan was to see some hanging coffins and the entrance of Lumiang Cave, and then spelunk Sumaguing Cave. Our first stop was an overlook where we could view some hanging coffins attached to a limestone outcrop.<br />
<br />
One of the natural phenomenons that make Sagada stunning is the presence of limestone formations amidst thick groves of pine trees. Limestone formations are abundant in the Philippines but normally these crop out in the sea—not the mountains. These limestone formations can be found in Sagada because millions of years ago, this area was actually underwater. We would see further proof of this later in the caves. Apart from the existence of limestone formations, another thing that makes Sagada worth exploring is the indigenous Ifugao tradition of placing the dead in hanging coffins. These hanging coffins can be seen attached to limestone outcrops throughout Sagada. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mnRon9LBWMk/TcXqddUYkSI/AAAAAAAACNU/GTUg3HJYmj8/s1600/IMG_0200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mnRon9LBWMk/TcXqddUYkSI/AAAAAAAACNU/GTUg3HJYmj8/s640/IMG_0200.JPG" width="490px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">From here, we went on a steep downhill trek to Lumiang Cave. It was quite precarious as the path is steep, rocky and uneven, and I was only wearing flipflops. Flipflops are the recommended footwear for caving because they're easy to take off and put on. Sumaguing Cave has many underground pools and there are instances when it's best to go entirely barefoot. But flipflops make negotiating the rocks and steep descents outside the cave a little tricky. Soon enough though, we reached the overlook showing the entrance to Lumiang Cave.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JNCYvGKr-Gw/TcXq9hLVOfI/AAAAAAAACNI/hRZphrJH5Ww/s1600/IMG_0216.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JNCYvGKr-Gw/TcXq9hLVOfI/AAAAAAAACNI/hRZphrJH5Ww/s640/IMG_0216.JPG" width="490px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Lumiang Cave is an ancient burial cave for the Ifugaos. At its entrance, one can find a large group of ancient coffins. What appear to be logs stacked up by the mouth of the cave are actually coffins containing the remains of ancient Ifugaos. The coffins are small because their practice was to place the dead in a fetal position, bringing them back to the manner they started life in.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wtlKrGmFY8s/Tcbt9FS3YEI/AAAAAAAACNE/d_2gzAadXJc/s1600/IMG_0247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wtlKrGmFY8s/Tcbt9FS3YEI/AAAAAAAACNE/d_2gzAadXJc/s640/IMG_0247.JPG" width="490px" /></a></div>To the left of the coffins, we saw the dizzying descent into Lumiang Cave. This is where the cave connection route begins—a trail that takes approximately four hours to traverse, and that takes visitors through a portion of Sagada's network of caves, starting at Lumiang Cave and ending in Sumaguing Cave. After seeing some intrepid cavers descend and disappear among the rocks, we decided we wanted to do it too. And thus the adventure began.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fZtrLUGLEzc/TcfVAJY4mTI/AAAAAAAACQ4/TaPmBr1GPxA/s1600/IMG_0227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fZtrLUGLEzc/TcfVAJY4mTI/AAAAAAAACQ4/TaPmBr1GPxA/s640/IMG_0227.JPG" width="490px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">There was a brief lull as we waited for Andrew, who had to get more denatured alcohol for his lamp now that we were going to tackle a 4-hour cave tour (as opposed to the 2-hour cave tour we initially planned on doing). Once he got back, time seemed to fly by. Soon we were in the bowels of the cave and natural light became a thing of the past. We quickly saw that this wasn't an activity for anyone claustrophobic or bothered by darkness. The entire first part of the tour requires squeezing into tiny crevices. Everything was pitch black save for the areas illuminated by the one lamp Andrew carried and the tiny headlamp Vic wore. Andrew said that each guide can take a maximum of three people on a cave connection tour as that's the most he can provide light for. This number goes up during peak periods, such as Holy Week, but only because so many people do the tour that light spills over from one group to the next. <br />
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The first big challenge we faced was what Andrew called "the first draft." We had to squeeze into a tiny hole and lower ourselves using not much else than a rope and Andrew's legs as a ladder. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cdDjhMVJfU4/TcXlMQSdb5I/AAAAAAAACQc/mJTewMKyxVg/s1600/first+draft.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cdDjhMVJfU4/TcXlMQSdb5I/AAAAAAAACQc/mJTewMKyxVg/s640/first+draft.JPG" width="490px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">"Are you okay, Ma'am? You're shaking," Andrew told me once my feet were planted squarely back on the ground. I told him I didn't have a lot of upper body strength so the effort must've made my arms shake, but I suppose my nerves struck too as this was the first heart-racing portion of the spelunking adventure. There would be many more but the shaking stopped as I became more comfortable with caving.<br />
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Following Andrew's recommendation, I spent a lot of time easing myself through the rocks on my butt since it's a lot more stable to be on all fours. Better to be safe than sorry when you're surrounded by darkness and sheer drops, and have only one experienced guide looking after you.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4MiovywyI4A/Tcl48HStoVI/AAAAAAAACTU/jZ_liCq7q-k/s1600/sagada.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4MiovywyI4A/Tcl48HStoVI/AAAAAAAACTU/jZ_liCq7q-k/s1600/sagada.jpg" width="565px" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Soon, we started to see some really cool things. We took a break in a cavernous area where Lumiang Cave ended and Sumaguing Cave began. Underneath our feet was what the guide referred to as "rock terraces"—cool patterns carved into the rock by water trickling down from the ceiling of the cave.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dW4SX1-pxZ8/TcXnP1v89TI/AAAAAAAACOE/JqUAKfW5hns/s1600/rock+terraces.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dW4SX1-pxZ8/TcXnP1v89TI/AAAAAAAACOE/JqUAKfW5hns/s1600/rock+terraces.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div>From there, more adventure was in store. I wish I had a picture of myself going up this rope because it was a pretty crazy part of the spelunking experience. Our guide had to act as our "elevator"; we had to step on his shoulders so that we could pull ourselves up on this rope and to the rocks above. "Trust the rope, trust the guide. Don't let go of the rope no matter what happens," instructed Andrew. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0fmH7KbNfEk/TcXnQTA2aII/AAAAAAAACN4/g9PiuVfNXmI/s1600/rappel+with+elevator.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0fmH7KbNfEk/TcXnQTA2aII/AAAAAAAACN4/g9PiuVfNXmI/s640/rappel+with+elevator.JPG" width="490px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was nerve-wracking, especially since Andrew surprised me by saying I would be the first to go up. Normally, he would go through first so that we could copy him and he could guide us through the obstacles. But since I had to step on his shoulders to get up, I had to figure out the rest for myself and climb to the top without further assistance. You can't see it from this picture, but there's a sheer drop to the right of this rock, and after pulling ourselves up on the rope we had to let go and scale the rock towards the right side in order to reach the landing above. I was grateful then that I'd done a bit of bouldering because it helped me stay calm while hanging on to the rock and figuring out my next move. Once we were safely through this portion, Andrew revealed that a rescue team had to be sent in before for a guest because she let go of the rope, fell and hit her head at this very place. Glad he withheld that piece of information til we were safely through! <br />
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From there, we soon reached the underground river, which was a sight to see. The water was cold and crystal clear.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xXad7JE8NjY/TciW5FD6JMI/AAAAAAAACSs/mPIvQ8C4ZgQ/s1600/IMG_0326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xXad7JE8NjY/TciW5FD6JMI/AAAAAAAACSs/mPIvQ8C4ZgQ/s1600/IMG_0326.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_R8xwtqlTa8/Tcfliv29XII/AAAAAAAACRs/zZJ8y8YwVS4/s1600/IMG_0327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_R8xwtqlTa8/Tcfliv29XII/AAAAAAAACRs/zZJ8y8YwVS4/s1600/IMG_0327.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xqpp8fHpi08/TcXnUiZzqRI/AAAAAAAACN0/EODb7bR4lIA/s1600/wading.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xqpp8fHpi08/TcXnUiZzqRI/AAAAAAAACN0/EODb7bR4lIA/s1600/wading.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div>In this part of the cave, we saw an impressive rock formation that looked like a massive mushroom: <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p3PTg3xItzk/TcXlQVT4RUI/AAAAAAAACO4/6RBOTW8pFfQ/s1600/giant+shroom.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p3PTg3xItzk/TcXlQVT4RUI/AAAAAAAACO4/6RBOTW8pFfQ/s640/giant+shroom.JPG" width="490px" /></a></div>Later on we saw another vegetable-like formation: a gigantic cauliflower.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8Bv3cvpVHHU/TcXkkvVA5cI/AAAAAAAACPU/X3ZFA4KOen0/s1600/cauliflower.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8Bv3cvpVHHU/TcXkkvVA5cI/AAAAAAAACPU/X3ZFA4KOen0/s1600/cauliflower.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The spelunking continued to be quite challenging, requiring a bit of bouldering and lot of ignoring the fact that we were surrounded by sheer vertical drops.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a2z7gNf6jLM/TcXkx6vH3mI/AAAAAAAACP4/p9D_xWTmJuE/s1600/don%2527t+look+down.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a2z7gNf6jLM/TcXkx6vH3mI/AAAAAAAACP4/p9D_xWTmJuE/s1600/don%2527t+look+down.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">All this clambering over rocks brought us to an impressive and expansive cavern called "Dance Hall." From far reaches of the cave we could hear both the flapping of bat wings and the beginnings of human noise, letting us know that we were getting closer to Sumaguing Cave. For now though, we had this massive space to ourselves so we got in some fun shots.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P_ZuyV7hUAk/TcXlch_eWSI/AAAAAAAACOc/_F-9OMNeSOU/s1600/jump.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P_ZuyV7hUAk/TcXlch_eWSI/AAAAAAAACOc/_F-9OMNeSOU/s1600/jump.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-296it25LgzQ/TcXkwx17lzI/AAAAAAAACPk/6s_BYD_qwtk/s1600/dancing+in+the+dance+hall.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-296it25LgzQ/TcXkwx17lzI/AAAAAAAACPk/6s_BYD_qwtk/s1600/dancing+in+the+dance+hall.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Soon we found ourselves amongst civilization again in Sumaguing Cave. Though it is a cave commonly visited by tourists with varying levels of caving expertise, it's no less precarious here because the path starts out with slick rocks and a downward slope. Andrew asked us to leave our shoes and slippers behind as we could get better traction with our feet.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HyFWRZu7iG8/TcXnKgw6YJI/AAAAAAAACTA/qpG1LibDwa0/s1600/slippery+when+wet.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HyFWRZu7iG8/TcXnKgw6YJI/AAAAAAAACTA/qpG1LibDwa0/s1600/slippery+when+wet.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div>Also, there were a lot of water pools coming our way. Gorgeous, glassy, limpid pools ...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TDqUzLqVKfk/TcXnVDbInxI/AAAAAAAACNo/TTDTm2SLoSM/s1600/sumaguing.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TDqUzLqVKfk/TcXnVDbInxI/AAAAAAAACNo/TTDTm2SLoSM/s1600/sumaguing.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iNLWmzrL8IU/TcXlebg_HVI/AAAAAAAACOM/xIu09aNSfKQ/s1600/prehistoric+baby+pool.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iNLWmzrL8IU/TcXlebg_HVI/AAAAAAAACOM/xIu09aNSfKQ/s1600/prehistoric+baby+pool.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div>There were some lofty, impressive formations like the appropriately-named King's Curtain:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eTSY2XsNpk8/TcXlc8jdz-I/AAAAAAAACOQ/igELAGnTMTc/s1600/king%2527s+curtain.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eTSY2XsNpk8/TcXlc8jdz-I/AAAAAAAACOQ/igELAGnTMTc/s1600/king%2527s+curtain.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div>This one is called the Chocolate Cake. This isn't to imply that I'm the icing on the cake (padum-pum). I'm just there to show scale.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3NeDPBCmNVw/TcigRheNfyI/AAAAAAAACS0/XgVFv41kbWU/s1600/IMG_0373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3NeDPBCmNVw/TcigRheNfyI/AAAAAAAACS0/XgVFv41kbWU/s1600/IMG_0373.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div>There are other notable formations like the Queen, King, Prince and Princess but the explanations are pervy and I honestly don't find those all too impressive so I'll skip them. Let's stick to wholesome stuff like shark's teeth and turtles.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sCus_wSc1N8/TcXnVjOKBEI/AAAAAAAACNg/jzp79Hev3pw/s1600/what+big+teeth+you+have.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sCus_wSc1N8/TcXnVjOKBEI/AAAAAAAACNg/jzp79Hev3pw/s1600/what+big+teeth+you+have.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKtzyvToPW0/TcidwjnG1wI/AAAAAAAACSc/f_teiTDV_sI/s1600/IMG_0369.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKtzyvToPW0/TcidwjnG1wI/AAAAAAAACSc/f_teiTDV_sI/s1600/IMG_0369.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div>Delving deeper into Sumaguing Cave, we came across fossilized shells embedded in the cave's walls—further proof that Sagada was once underwater.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--esv_k8y0yk/TcXlLk8z41I/AAAAAAAACQQ/jC1vrYX2ews/s1600/fossilized+shells.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--esv_k8y0yk/TcXlLk8z41I/AAAAAAAACQQ/jC1vrYX2ews/s1600/fossilized+shells.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div>Finally we reached the last chamber, where there's a pool roughly 6-feet deep with bone-chilling water. We had to jump in, of course. Taking a dip in that pool has the effect of drinking 5 espressos. Good god, it was freezing!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4NSSKjmoHWA/TciXbJJbTQI/AAAAAAAACSY/lKXmdzegKxA/s1600/IMG_0388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4NSSKjmoHWA/TciXbJJbTQI/AAAAAAAACSY/lKXmdzegKxA/s1600/IMG_0388.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div>On our way out, one final rappel. It was relatively easy; Andrew didn't even bother to guide us through it and instead ran up to take our pictures. He instructed us to keep our legs far apart while climbing to keep from swinging to the side. Of course, I initially kept my legs too close together and immediately swung to the left. But I readjusted my footing and made it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-moqvsr764ks/TcXlLc2SJcI/AAAAAAAACSE/mo3xC8R0gOs/s1600/final+rappel.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-moqvsr764ks/TcXlLc2SJcI/AAAAAAAACSE/mo3xC8R0gOs/s640/final+rappel.JPG" width="490px" /></a></div>Getting out of the cave proved tricky as we tried not to slip on the wet rocks that have been rubbed smooth by the countless feet that have walked on them. We also took pains not to lay our hands on the guano (bat poop) that covered some boulders. Finally, we saw sunlight as the mouth of the cave came into sight.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KgD1KQIkAgw/TcXkxeM8CJI/AAAAAAAACPw/1SAMRRnGcMw/s1600/daylight+at+last.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KgD1KQIkAgw/TcXkxeM8CJI/AAAAAAAACPw/1SAMRRnGcMw/s1600/daylight+at+last.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The entrance of Sumaguing Cave, lush with vegatation growing amidst the rocks, was a beautiful sight after four hours inside the cave. After one final push up steep flights of stairs, we were rewarded with the high of completing a challenging task and this stunning view:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SeGPHbFrZCM/Tck5NriylqI/AAAAAAAACTM/SNJWILNs07A/s1600/IMG_0428.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SeGPHbFrZCM/Tck5NriylqI/AAAAAAAACTM/SNJWILNs07A/s1600/IMG_0428.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The sight of the sun breaking through the clouds, just kissing the lush rice terraces with its rays, was nothing short of magical. We celebrated completing the challenge with a round of the cold San Mig Lights that we had been dreaming about all through the spelunking experience. Beer never tasted so good.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4uZK_RjFmpA/TcXki2KMbLI/AAAAAAAACPI/MFYT4Rf4Djk/s1600/celebratory+beers.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4uZK_RjFmpA/TcXki2KMbLI/AAAAAAAACPI/MFYT4Rf4Djk/s640/celebratory+beers.JPG" width="490px" /></a></div>Our little adventure was definitely one for the books. There's nothing quite like taking on and persevering through crazy new challenges for the thrill of exploring a place that so few have seen. You learn so much about what you're capable of in the process, all while seeing new and exciting things about the world you live in. It's an experience I will never forget and one I'm absolutely proud to check off my list!<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a><br />
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Photographed by Pia de Leon</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-11765343233115198912011-05-06T14:33:00.000-04:002011-10-13T14:37:48.799-04:00The Road to Sagada<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kgwvuQ5tC-w/TcIyvKd4ciI/AAAAAAAACF8/9D0g-veZisc/s1600/IMG_4600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="488" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kgwvuQ5tC-w/TcIyvKd4ciI/AAAAAAAACF8/9D0g-veZisc/s640/IMG_4600.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I have long wanted to visit Sagada—an enclave in the Mountain Province known for its stunning natural sights, fascinating history and laid-back hippie vibe. What kept me from going all these years was how difficult it is to get there. The most reliable way of reaching Sagada is on public transportation as no one can negotiate the vertigo-inducing roads and hairpin curves of the Cordilleras like seasoned bus and jeepney drivers. My friends and I agreed to do it the "Lonely Planet" way and bus it to Sagada. Here, tales from the journey.</div>
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We left the bus terminal in Sampaloc, Manila on Florida Bus Line's 10:45pm deluxe bus. A deluxe bus is called such because there's a bathroom on the vehicle, though I personally find them generally repulsive and never used this one. Florida's bus was relatively comfortable; their seats were similar to airplane seats that have headrests that cushion your head on both sides so that it's easier to get some shuteye. I get drowsy within minutes of sitting in any moving vehicle though so I was pretty much knocked out for the entire trip, only getting up to use the bathroom and partake of the ubiquitous <i>balut</i> that seemed to be a staple in every bus stop. By bus stop, I mean joints that look like this:</div>
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And by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balut_%28egg%29"><i>balut</i></a>, I mean this:</div>
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That, my friends, is a boiled duck egg. It looks funky because the duckling is partially formed. A lot of people (Filipinos included) get squeamish when they see it, but I happen to love the stuff. I've been eating it since I was a kid and am notorious for eating it in the most disgusting manner possible. The common way of eating balut is from the shell in a dimly lit area. People open it up, sprinkle it with salt and pretty much swig it without looking too closely at the contents. I like to dissect the thing on a plate using a fork and knife, leisurely dipping each bite in rock salt. My own family contemplates disowning me when I do this.<br />
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While we were at this stop, the bus's fan belt broke so we spent a little extra time there while the driver fixed it. Thankfully it didn't take too long and soon we were back on the road and I was knocked out again. I didn't wake up til we arrived in Banaue a little before 8AM. We decided that instead of taking a jeep to Sagada, we would hire a van to drive us there. The jeep rides can be quite an adventure:<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J2KSpPjzSoQ/TcNJYYf7mCI/AAAAAAAACGo/xtwArQ75wXE/s1600/Alternative+Transpo+to+Sagada.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="489" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J2KSpPjzSoQ/TcNJYYf7mCI/AAAAAAAACGo/xtwArQ75wXE/s640/Alternative+Transpo+to+Sagada.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
I've done this before, back when the roads in Banaue were still rocky and unpaved so I didn't need a do-over. We elected to go by private van instead for P3500 (approximately $81).<br />
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Before starting the next leg of our journey, we stopped for breakfast at Hidden Valley restaurant. The place is not much to look at and the fare is really simple, but you don't need a lot of frills when you have a fab view (and a captive market).<br />
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Banaue is famous for it's beautiful rice terraces, carved out of the mountains by hand 2,000 years ago by the native Ifugaos. The last time I was here was maybe 6 years ago when the roads were still raggedy and unpaved. It was also on a January, when the terraces weren't fully planted yet. This time, the terraces were lush, green and simply breathtaking.</div>
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I could've stayed there forever but Pia and Vic told me I would see so many more rice terraces that I'd be sick of them by the end of the trip so we should get a move on. Back on the road to Sagada, we did in fact see them in various iterations, from the village-side rice terraces to a road that runs through rice terraces.<br />
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I spent most of this leg asleep too, only waking up for the pretty sights. The drive from Banaue to Sagada took 5 more hours. After approximately eleven hours of traveling, we finally got to our destination.<br />
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After too many years of putting it off, I finally made it to Sagada. Though the trip was long, the time breezed by with long naps and stunning scenery at every turn. And as soon as I experienced some of the most amazing things Sagada had to offer, I knew I'd be willing to make that trip again and again to discover more of this wonderful place's charms.<br />
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Up next: our wild adventure spelunking in Sagada. Stay tuned for more!<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a><br />
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<i>Photographed by Pia de Leon</i><br />
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Phone <b>Florida Bus Lines</b> at +6327433809 two days before departure date to make a reservation.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-28324006710911728302011-05-03T08:36:00.002-04:002011-05-03T08:40:34.114-04:00#2: Swim with whale sharks in Donsol—CHECK!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LhZfbvhz8gw/TbjfelGi85I/AAAAAAAACC8/Fiw1LVWjCpo/s1600/butanding-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LhZfbvhz8gw/TbjfelGi85I/AAAAAAAACC8/Fiw1LVWjCpo/s1600/butanding-1.png" width="565" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For diving enthusiasts, there's something called "The Big 3"—the most impressive of the underwater world's creatures that one strives to see in a lifetime. The big three consists of manta rays, hammerhead sharks and whale sharks. On April 20, 2011, I came face to face with one of the marine world's kings, the whale shark, and found out for myself why this encounter is one to seek out in this lifetime. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Donsol was once a sleepy fishing town in the province of Sorsogon. Its fishermen found these massive underwater creatures they called <i>butanding</i> a constant source of annoyance as they would constantly get entangled in their fishing nets. It wasn't until a passionate diver shot footage of these extraordinary whale sharks and brought it to the attention of the World Wildlife Fund that the people of Donsol realized what treasure was swimming underneath their waters. These whale sharks, the largest living fish species at up to 12 meters (41.5 feet) in length, are known to come to Donsol to feed on its plankton rich waters, but recent studies have suggested that this may be a birthing spot for the gentle giants, as well. Today, Donsol is widely recognized as the "whale shark capital of the world" and was featured as the <i>Best Animal Encounter in Asia</i> by TIME magazine in 2004.<br />
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From my experience, this title is truly well-deserved.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Our journey began with a flight from Manila to Legazpi City—a place with its own set of must-see sights (watch out for a separate post on Legazpi). My friend Magic arranged our accommodations and tours with <a href="http://www.donsolecotour.com/">Donsol Eco Tours</a>. For P4,965 per person (approximately $116), we were set up with a two-night stay with breakfast included at <a href="http://woodland.resort-philippines.com/">Woodland Resort</a>, roundtrip transfers from the airport to the resort, whale watching with lunch and gear rental (fins and snorkels) included, and an evening of firefly watching.<br />
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On whale watching day, our guide Christopher picked us up from the resort at 7am and all six of us piled into a tiny tricycle to get to the Registration Office (it took less than 5 minutes to get there, but it was an experience nevertheless). Since Christopher had already registered and scheduled our group to go out with the first batch of boats that day, all we had to do was watch the required video, which explains the procedure and rules for interacting with the whale sharks. We were quite familiar with the regulations by then, as there are posters with these rules everywhere in Donsol:<br />
<ul><li>Swimmers should be 3 meters from the head and body; 4 meters from the tail</li>
<li>Do not touch, ride or restrict the movement of the shark</li>
<li>Maximum of 6 swimmers per whale shark</li>
<li>Maximum of 30 boats at sea with 3-hour interaction limit (March - May)</li>
<li>No scuba, scooters, jet skis or any other motorized underwater propulsion</li>
<li>Maximum of 20-minute swim with one whaleshark</li>
<li>Flash photography is not allowed</li>
<li>Only one boat per whale shark</li>
</ul></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After watching the video we were off. We were blessed with bright blue skies and the calmest waters I've ever seen. The sky was so clear that we could see the tip of Mayon volcano from the sea. It was a beautiful day to make friends with some whale sharks.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vn3VEOo6ljE/TbjxAnJ-zHI/AAAAAAAACDs/jCOBTXF5Zq8/s1600/boarding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vn3VEOo6ljE/TbjxAnJ-zHI/AAAAAAAACDs/jCOBTXF5Zq8/s1600/boarding.jpg" width="565" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QHIGno50RHY/Tbjyx5ejxtI/AAAAAAAACD0/QdbG9y7jqZs/s1600/DSCF0372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QHIGno50RHY/Tbjyx5ejxtI/AAAAAAAACD0/QdbG9y7jqZs/s1600/DSCF0372.JPG" width="565" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cuqIF_MiArI/TbqezbtFDlI/AAAAAAAACEk/sbRB5iWg7QY/s1600/DSCF0377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cuqIF_MiArI/TbqezbtFDlI/AAAAAAAACEk/sbRB5iWg7QY/s1600/DSCF0377.JPG" width="565" /></a></div>I ended up crashing Mag's family vacation but it was lots of fun. I've known her since we were in elementary school and her husband Andy since we were in high school. Her parents are the coolest folks ever—as evidenced by how willing they were to join us in chasing down whale sharks. Our party of five was just the right size as each boat can carry six swimmers max.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HHcYfYkl7E8/TbjxDrCUoDI/AAAAAAAACDw/innAl2riW9k/s1600/butanding+chasers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HHcYfYkl7E8/TbjxDrCUoDI/AAAAAAAACDw/innAl2riW9k/s1600/butanding+chasers.jpg" width="565" /></a></div>Apart from our group and our guide Christopher, we also had a <i>butanding</i> interaction officer (B.I.O.) named Florante, a boat driver, another crew member and a spotter. The spotter stays in this position for most of the ride to find those whale sharks.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FeC5AwbT1fY/Tbjy5EnlmpI/AAAAAAAACEQ/v4EH74xYUhg/s1600/DSCF0382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FeC5AwbT1fY/Tbjy5EnlmpI/AAAAAAAACEQ/v4EH74xYUhg/s640/DSCF0382.JPG" width="489" /></a></div>We had a pretty good crew because it didn't seem too long before our spotter jumped down from his perch and told the boat driver to turn of the propeller. He had spotted a whale shark! We quickly pulled on our snorkels and flippers, and perched on the sides of the boat to wait for Florante's go signal. At his signal, we jumped into the water and searched the cloudy aquamarine waters for a sign of the whale shark.<br />
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Nothing quite prepares you for your first encounter with a whale shark. One minute, you're looking into empty waters. The next, there's a massive whale shark swimming right in your direction. My mind seemed to go blank at that moment. The only thought I could conjure up was, "Swim."<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i1ziwLkoAQY/Tb_kpO3NF8I/AAAAAAAACE8/PKXxX-Ye2nE/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-03+at+7.14.46+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i1ziwLkoAQY/Tb_kpO3NF8I/AAAAAAAACE8/PKXxX-Ye2nE/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-03+at+7.14.46+PM.png" width="565" /></a></div>I somehow ended up swimming right above the whale shark. It was breathtaking to be able to see those distinctive spots and its gracefully swaying fin and tail just meters away. Most mind-blowing of all was the mere fact that this majestic creature was just gently moving along, allowing us little humans to join him for a swim.<br />
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This video taken by Andy captures the experience of swimming with whale sharks perfectly. This is exactly what it's like: you jump in, peek into those turquoise blue waters and most likely see nothing, goof off for a little bit, and then BAM! Suddenly a whale shark is coming at you and you swim as fast as your fins can take you.</div><div align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="351" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gIHl8gdzF18" width="565"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: justify;">By the time all of us surfaced from our first whale shark encounter, there were a few other boats waiting in the wings. They asked us to please come out of the water so they could swim with the whale sharks, too. I was pleased to see that the rules were being observed, even if we were there at Donsol's busiest time. Whale shark season in Donsol runs from December to May, with April supposedly being the best month for spotting <i>butandings</i>. We came during Holy Week, which is a holiday in the Philippines and therefore the absolute busiest time in Donsol. This is pretty much what "rush hour" looks like in these waters:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x8S09q6NDkg/Tbjy0gajmtI/AAAAAAAACD4/JnSML9UC2Bg/s1600/DSCF0386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x8S09q6NDkg/Tbjy0gajmtI/AAAAAAAACD4/JnSML9UC2Bg/s1600/DSCF0386.JPG" width="565" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Despite the crowd, we found plenty of chances to interact with the whale sharks. In two hours, we got to swim with five different <i>butandings</i> (we voluntarily went to shore after that as we had our fill of swimming and it was starting to get rather hot). Each experience was different from the next. Some butandings stayed close to the surface longer, allowing us to swim with it for long periods of time. Others moved to deeper waters rather quickly. On our last swim, it seemed as if the <i>butanding</i> was just swimming right towards me and I had to swim backwards to get out of its way! I took a few shaky videos with my underwater camera just to record exactly what I saw and experienced. But soon after, I handed over my camera to Florante, who took some impressive videos worthy of National Geographic. If you want to get real up close and personal with a whale shark, you must see this:</div><div align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="454" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/UcwaJmOoC4g" title="YouTube video player" width="565"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Isn't that just amazing? My camera pretty much croaked after this but it was worth every dollar for the videos Florante took. Here's a tip for anyone considering bringing an underwater camera for this adventure: Get one that works for more than 10 feet if you plan on handing it over to your B.I.O. at any point because those guys can swim and stay underwater for ridiculous amounts of time. My Fujifilm Finepix camera was not too keen on this but Andy's Sony Cybershot worked beautifully. I'm not too bothered about my camera dying on me because I wouldn't trade those amazing videos for anything.<br />
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Swimming with whale sharks was an experience that's at once elating and plain old surreal. Until now, it still boggles my mind that I swam with those majestic creatures. You couldn't wipe that smile off my face for hours!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lz7WZJdIIhk/TbjzF37CuMI/AAAAAAAACEU/UX_7-tEjpUM/s1600/DSCF0397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lz7WZJdIIhk/TbjzF37CuMI/AAAAAAAACEU/UX_7-tEjpUM/s1600/DSCF0397.JPG" width="565" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was truly one of the most phenomenal experiences of my life and one I hope that all of you will have a chance to go through at least once in your lifetime. I felt so fortunate at that moment to have the opportunity to experience something so extraordinary and I would do it all again, given the chance. The Philippines is blessed to have such treasures swimming in our waters. I am so proud of the people of Donsol for recognizing this and for being the foremost guardians of the gentle giants that call their waters home.</div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-34917651717665156962011-04-26T02:05:00.003-04:002011-05-27T11:00:24.195-04:00#19: Hike to Mt. Pinatubo's crater—CHECK!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GEyzxA4S3Hc/TbSqAixT2tI/AAAAAAAACAs/oBKNgYProMw/s1600/DSCF0195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GEyzxA4S3Hc/TbSqAixT2tI/AAAAAAAACAs/oBKNgYProMw/s1600/DSCF0195.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As we hiked under the relentless Philippine sun through a seemingly endless path of lahar, volcanic rocks and streams, I recalled the first hike I did as a child. It was more of a walk really but it felt like it took forever, as most things do when you're a kid. We were in Hidden Valley, a resort south of Manila, with natural spring pools fringed with lush vegetation. Someone had decided we should go looking for the hidden waterfall and I couldn't, for the life of me, understand why we had to leave a place that was already beautiful and walk for ages just to look for this waterfall. It didn't help that the waterfall turned out to be a pathetic trickle of water in the end. When I remember my way of thinking as a child, it strikes me how growing older changes our perspective so much. These days, I am so willing to put myself through hell just so I can marvel at something. I would never have sought out a volcano crater to swim in as a child. What for when there are all these swimming pools and beaches just a car ride away? But these days, there's this irrepressible urge to suck the marrow out of life and see all the beautiful things that can be seen, no matter the cost and effort.<br />
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These were the thoughts running through my mind the day we went to hike to the crater of Mt. Pinatubo. In a country dotted with 37 volcanoes, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Pinatubo">Mt. Pinatubo</a> is one intimately known by my generation. In 1991, Mt. Pinatubo produced the largest eruption in living history, blanketing most of the northern Philippines in volcanic ash. My friends recall being stumped by the white ash falling from the sky. I was in Hong Kong on holiday with my family and could not get back to Manila for a week because the ashfall prevented aircrafts from landing. Mt. Pinatubo continues to be active but over the last 10 years, vegetation has grown back and a lake has formed in its crater. Naturally, some adventurous souls eventually made hiking to the crater and swimming in the lake a regular activity.<br />
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I'd been mystified by the idea of swimming in this volcano crater for years but never got around to it until my 30 Before 30 Project came about. So on April 20, 2011, I finally got around to ticking this off my list. My good friend from New York, Mitch, arranged our Mt. Pinatubo trek with a local outfit that takes care of reserving guides, transportation and security, as well as our packed picnic lunch for P2,500 per head (approximately $57). We had planned on meeting the guide at the Petron gas station in Capas, Tarlac at 7:30am but ran into some delays so by the time we reached the registration area at Pinatubo Spa Town in Barangay Sta. Juliana, all the other trekkers had already left. Since we were the last to leave and had no cars to convoy with, the tour operator requested additional security to join us, in addition to our tour guide.<br />
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After signing some waivers and sorting out payments, we piled into the 4x4 assigned to us. With 5 people in our group plus a driver and a guide, it was a tight fit. So tight that our security detail sat on the hood of the 4x4 for most of the ride (clearly, seatbelt laws are more like a helpful suggestion in these parts of the country). The adventure began with a 4x4 ride that took us through <a href="http://www.trekkingpinatubo.com/crow-valley.htm">Crow Valley</a>, an area once used by the US Armed Forces as a bombing range and currently still used for military exercises by the Philippine Army (We ran into quite a few army men wearing fatigues and carrying high powered rifles towards the end of our trek as the military is currently conducting exercises in the area). Driving onto Crow Valley is a bit like journeying through the moon, I would imagine. It's a no man's land that was waylaid by lahar during the eruption. The lahar dust swirled into the open 4x4 relentlessly so that we were all covered in a thin layer of dust by the time we disembarked. (Tip: Do not bring a backpack that you like for this trip. It will have lahar dust in every nook and cranny by the time you're done). The drive itself is quite an adventure, as the 4x4 goes through streams and lahar fields in order to reach the beginning of the trail.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ph3SBDBcajo/TbSmZsV2hpI/AAAAAAAACe8/XyXRpg6w8Ew/s1600/DSCF0165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ph3SBDBcajo/TbSmZsV2hpI/AAAAAAAACe8/XyXRpg6w8Ew/s1600/DSCF0165.JPG" t8="true" width="565px" /></a></div>I had come into this feeling quite cocky that the hike would be easy peasy. We were under the impression that the hike would just take half an hour, and I've done some advanced hikes in the past so I was feeling confident. But this hike is subject to the whims of Mother Nature and circumstance (not to mention punishing equatorial heat). We found out that the road that could take us close enough to just do a 30-minute hike got washed out by rains last year. There's a "skyway" road that takes trekkers to a point where they'll only have to hike for an hour, but a 4x4 had an accident there just the day before, blocking and rendering the road impassable. So we were instead deposited to a trailhead from where the hike would take 2 hours and 40 minutes (2 hours if we're fast). We got more than we had bargained for but dove in, nevertheless. I thought Kate and I had it rough when <a href="http://www.30before30project.com/2010/09/9-see-grand-canyoncheck.html">we tackled the unmaintained Hermit's Trail</a> in the Grand Canyon last August. This trek definitely one-upped that hike. What is this trail that you speak of? I don't know either.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--EBjHzeguh8/TbYoEYCF7-I/AAAAAAAACCo/_N_o5WKcB6Q/s1600/DSCF0179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--EBjHzeguh8/TbYoEYCF7-I/AAAAAAAACCo/_N_o5WKcB6Q/s1600/DSCF0179.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GyhhxWsj2z8/TbSo_3JL5DI/AAAAAAAACAU/7rRzgDqjbxo/s1600/DSCF0188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GyhhxWsj2z8/TbSo_3JL5DI/AAAAAAAACAU/7rRzgDqjbxo/s640/DSCF0188.JPG" width="494px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">There were more goats than people in these parts.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8brPTgk44a0/TbSpG4QDeKI/AAAAAAAACAg/11zPCfqZpxQ/s1600/DSCF0185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8brPTgk44a0/TbSpG4QDeKI/AAAAAAAACAg/11zPCfqZpxQ/s640/DSCF0185.JPG" width="494px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Our guides were very helpful, holding us by the hand as we stepped on rocks to cross streams and in some cases, literally heaving large rocks into the stream so that we'd have something to step on and cross over without getting our shoes wet. Only in the Philippines! Once we got the hang of things though, our guide stopped coddling us and let us negotiate the streams by ourselves. Although the trail was largely flat, it was demanding due to the heat and the terrain, which consisted mostly of volcanic sand, rocks and streams. But the scenery was really interesting. I was captivated by how the sulfur in the water imparted a rust-colored hue to the rocks and soil that gave the area an extraterrestrial feel.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-avIZgwrQUao/TbWrPVApCHI/AAAAAAAACB4/3RQ4TtJcn4c/s1600/DSCF0237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-avIZgwrQUao/TbWrPVApCHI/AAAAAAAACB4/3RQ4TtJcn4c/s1600/DSCF0237.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kCDDu4IIwvk/TbWrPPq-g7I/AAAAAAAACCs/R3TJ3dbmj-8/s1600/DSCF0239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kCDDu4IIwvk/TbWrPPq-g7I/AAAAAAAACCs/R3TJ3dbmj-8/s1600/DSCF0239.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div>An hour and a half into our hike, the lahar fields gave way to lush terrain. Our guide told us that this was where the 4x4s used to disembark and that we were now just 30 minutes from the crater. By this time, the sun crawled underneath some clouds and our hike became slightly more pleasurable. It did get a tad more challenging, however, as there were now more inclines. It was in this area that we finally encountered other hikers, who were now returning just as we were arriving. As previously mentioned, we also encountered armed military men in full fatigues. It might be a disconcerting sight for non-Filipinos but I found their presence reassuring. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
After one final steep climb up an incline, we finally hit the motherlode.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aHmWBo016kI/TbSqPtM33_I/AAAAAAAACAw/X0Wj823zhtA/s1600/DSCF0198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aHmWBo016kI/TbSqPtM33_I/AAAAAAAACAw/X0Wj823zhtA/s1600/DSCF0198.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Up until last March, the lake in Mt. Pinatubo's crater was a beautiful turquoise hue. After the Japan earthquake of March 11, however, the color turned dark green. It is still a stunning sight but I wish I had seen it <a href="http://www.pinoymountaineer.com/2008/11/mt-pinatubo-green-edition-960.html">when it was at its bluest</a>. A reminder from Mother Earth that nothing lasts forever and that we should see as much as we can while we still can.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We were famished by the time we got there so our guide set up our lunch. This is another way that trekking in the Philippines varies from trekking in the US. At the end of my hikes with Kate, we would dig into our PB&J sammies and trailmix. Here in the Philippines, the guide carried and unfolded this feast at the destination:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AsJcWK1QTXg/TbSqZeuBw3I/AAAAAAAACA4/NdenVXzCZSU/s1600/DSCF0200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AsJcWK1QTXg/TbSqZeuBw3I/AAAAAAAACA4/NdenVXzCZSU/s1600/DSCF0200.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Our food came from Everybody's Cafe in Pampanga, a joint famous for its local fare. Kapampangan cooking is some of the best in the country and this was my first real lunch since returning to the Philippines so I found it to be an amazing treat. We were served <i>adobong puti </i>(white adobo), a variation of the Philippines' most popular stew that eschews the use of soy sauce (as opposed to the typical dark adobo where pork and chicken are stewed in vinegar and soy sauce). There was also some really delicious <i>longganiza</i> (pork sausage), <i>atchara</i> (pickled radish), <i>chicharon</i> (pork cracklings) and a heaping mound of white rice. My absolute favorite part of the lunch was the <i>pako</i> salad—a mixture of fiddlehead ferns, salted duck eggs and tomatoes tossed in vinaigrette. It's something quite impossible to come by in the US and I love, love, love it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hFvMJ-lQh6M/TbZfWiIjDgI/AAAAAAAACCc/H8R2IRORVlY/s1600/DSCF0201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hFvMJ-lQh6M/TbZfWiIjDgI/AAAAAAAACCc/H8R2IRORVlY/s1600/DSCF0201.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After lunch, we made our way down to the lake for a dip. It took us awhile to get in as the water felt cold and it had gotten overcast. When we finally did though, it was nice and refreshing. It's a bit disconcerting to swim in a volcano crater though because a) you can't see what lies beneath the surface, and b) it gets deep very very quickly. There are no living creatures in this lake other than some underwater reeds that just add to this lake's Lochness monster vibe! </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We decided to take a boat ride (P350 per head or approximately $8) to the "hot springs", as the boatmen called it. It's really just another side of the lake where the volcanic sand is still quite hot and makes parts of the water warm, as well. It's quite a sight to see: steam rises from the shore and the colors of the rocks and water are pretty. Swimming in the water is an interesting experience, too, as you'll find that the temperature varies from spot to spot. Being in this area really drove home the point that good lord, we were swimming in the mouth of a volcano!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Cx1pHa7avm4/TbSrnUt0iyI/AAAAAAAACCg/y1syaywX3dw/s1600/DSCF0229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Cx1pHa7avm4/TbSrnUt0iyI/AAAAAAAACCg/y1syaywX3dw/s640/DSCF0229.JPG" width="492px" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ba-mUO_XWi0/TbZKj8mhfeI/AAAAAAAACCQ/7xU6RrdcCqI/s1600/DSCF0232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ba-mUO_XWi0/TbZKj8mhfeI/AAAAAAAACCQ/7xU6RrdcCqI/s1600/DSCF0232.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">While we were swimming in the hot springs, we were told that the "skyway" had already been cleared and for an additional P1,500, our driver could drive to the other trailhead so that we'd only have to do a 1-hour hike back. I'm terrible at haggling but thankfully my friends took the lead on this one. They argued that we had already paid for the skyway fee as part of our package and shouldn't have to pay another fee on top of that just because the driver had to make a detour. In the end the tour company covered our fee, but this is a reminder that you should watch out for these things so as not to pay unnecessary fees (Watch out for a separate post on practical matters for Mt. Pinatubo trekking).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We were told that we had to make our way back by 1:30PM so we made sure we were back on the trail by then. At this point we were the last tourists on the premises and all of the personnel actually packed up for the day as soon as we left. By the time we reached the pick-up point, all the personnel were right at our back with the coolers where they stored the drinks sold by the crater. They also carried the trash out with them, picking up empty water bottles that had been left by tourists (tsk tsk!) in different parts of the trail. I was sorely disappointed that some trekkers thought to litter on the trail but was comforted to see that the personnel make sure every last piece of litter is removed at the end of the day.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We had scarcely left the pick up point on when our 4x4 suddenly stalled. The driver checked the gas tank and said that we had run out of diesel, and I was just dumbfounded. It was getting late, it had been drizzling, and we were all anxious to get out of there. How could he let this happen?!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xIJ19IV10ac/TbSriVQ0d3I/AAAAAAAACBI/MezMW2QrzaM/s1600/DSCF0242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xIJ19IV10ac/TbSriVQ0d3I/AAAAAAAACBI/MezMW2QrzaM/s1600/DSCF0242.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Thankfully the 4x4 used by the Mt. Pinatubo personnel was right behind us. They said they would transfer some of their jeep's gas to ours so that we could all get back. They later realized that there was just a clog in some artery and did some mechanical magic to get the gas flowing. All the men gave the jeep a few running jumpstarts and to my relief, the engine rumbled back to life. The ride back seemed much longer and was exceptionally bumpy and dusty, so I was utterly relieved when we finally rolled to a stop back at the Spa Town.<br />
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It was a rough and tumble adventure, far more challenging than I had imagined, but every bit of it was worth it. Mt. Pinatubo is definitely something worth seeing and I highly recommend it to anyone looking for a little something more to marvel at.</div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0pt; border-left: 0pt; border-right: 0pt; border-top: 0pt;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-17501982200303387512011-04-24T09:23:00.000-04:002011-04-24T09:23:17.897-04:00#20: Rock out at a music festival—CHECK!<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcQoq7-DmF113yc9KWniMLRYzAhPoYS6yizu4DocjokRHB1bc5bIo63AKke8p5EQobhickCkBf2iO7oaBSkl7dVVMS2qC7B3jRLGsFasPNDFjrbekweBJRbYw4k2HVvYDGJ4bdgaYW8p4/s1600/Coachella-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcQoq7-DmF113yc9KWniMLRYzAhPoYS6yizu4DocjokRHB1bc5bIo63AKke8p5EQobhickCkBf2iO7oaBSkl7dVVMS2qC7B3jRLGsFasPNDFjrbekweBJRbYw4k2HVvYDGJ4bdgaYW8p4/s1600/Coachella-1.jpg" width="565" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>On April 18, 2011, I stepped foot on Coachella ground for the very first time and breathed in that desert air, so thick with music and palpable excitement. As I stood surrounded by multiple stages, each spotlighting an act surrounded by its own reverent crowd, I found myself pining for all the Coachella festivals that passed me by. Why on earth did it take me so long to get here?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm light years away on the musical uptake compared to the cool kids and hipsters, but I enjoy and love to dabble in all types of music, so the musical buffet that is Coachella is my definition of some kind of heaven. I love how the music festival experience allows you to rock out for an hour, rave for another, trip out to electronica for the next and bop your head to hiphop for the last few ... and then wake up the next day and do it all again! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="454" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/kCqynct1SMM" title="YouTube video player" width="565"></iframe><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="454" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qsVA4D9n5Pg" title="YouTube video player" width="565"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'd become so accustomed to living in my own little music bubble with my iPod and white earbuds that I tend to forget how wonderful the shared experience of music can be. Music preferences are a very personal thing, but there's something so cool about hearing the opening bars of a song you like and having a crowd of thousands around you roar in excitement. The recognition of thousands of musical kindred souls gives me the warm and fuzzies. <br />
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The key to enjoying Coachella, I found, was to check expectations at the door and just go with the flow. The simple fact is that there's no way to see everything you want to see. Your favorite acts could be on all at the same time, and being with a group of friends with their own favorites complicates things further. You just to have to live with the fact that you can't watch every band perform every single song. Just enjoy what you do happen catch and remember: it's a music festival, not a rat race.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLnSe_BkzJqPr71wUj9tGT0IORvQO52pILE3t0MjUPcHtBi2Al24hp40_3Kgs_R5gsZKHj9AmWxTx9sW1z0rM__lOqkpp6pM1MO0GnwvFvGNKhX8Sd6TLftZJGN0aIzjB4XCxx82v7PRI/s1600/DSCF0066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLnSe_BkzJqPr71wUj9tGT0IORvQO52pILE3t0MjUPcHtBi2Al24hp40_3Kgs_R5gsZKHj9AmWxTx9sW1z0rM__lOqkpp6pM1MO0GnwvFvGNKhX8Sd6TLftZJGN0aIzjB4XCxx82v7PRI/s1600/DSCF0066.JPG" width="565" /></a></div>The upside of being at Coachella with a group is that you get pulled into seeing acts that were previously out of your radar. I discovered a lot of new music over the weekend that I would otherwise continue to be oblivious to, had it not been for Coachella. <br />
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Apart from the music, I really dug the atmosphere, too. I'm not a fan of people whose schtick is to make it appear like they'd rather be somewhere else cooler. At Coachella, it's clear that there's nowhere else everyone would rather be than right there, and I love that.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixKb-ICj6D3eKlp_TmgIaSP9ykXvwVLrPg75NLYjDW5A-G8sW6D_2xpaKfBrAR0HBMSjmAvjfBRqb1cTHCjn0lKgyINYDs7x1DCuagkT626RyEC3TdCGdlcLIgObLNNEogVYtaElS8WTU/s1600/Coachella-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixKb-ICj6D3eKlp_TmgIaSP9ykXvwVLrPg75NLYjDW5A-G8sW6D_2xpaKfBrAR0HBMSjmAvjfBRqb1cTHCjn0lKgyINYDs7x1DCuagkT626RyEC3TdCGdlcLIgObLNNEogVYtaElS8WTU/s1600/Coachella-3.jpg" width="565" /></a></div>We ran into a few famous people wandering around Coachella like regular folks. Toobs and I saw Marcel, rapping foam-meister of <i>Top Chef</i> infamy, wandering around the parking lot before we even entered. We were so dumbfounded at the sight of him that we just froze and openly stared at him while slurping down our massive cups of pear vodka tonics. We couldn't stop whining about how we failed to get our picture taken with him for days. The next night, our friend Mayi suddenly broke away from the group when she spotted Penn Badgley by a pretzel stand. He was so apologetic about saying no when she asked to take a picture (he didn't want to draw attention to himself) that she couldn't feel bad even if she tried. Sadly, I didn't realize it was he that she was speaking with so I didn't get a good look. All I remember was seeing her speaking to a short dude. Oh well.<br />
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Aside from the famous folks, there were also tons of crazy characters at Coachella. There were the muscle daddies (see the anchor photo to this post) who not only obliged to take a picture with us but decided it would be fun to carry us all for the shot. They also whipped out their own camera to get a picture (I suppose Asian princesses are novelty items to Cali queens, as well), and for that I literally got flipped upside down, which was fun! Unfortunately we don't have a copy of that pic so if you see one floating around on the Internetz, do let me know.<br />
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I love playing dress up so I was tickled pink with the sight of all the bedazzled and feathered creatures roaming the grounds (the many stuffed animal hats, I quickly tired of though). These neon, feathered ladies were particularly delightful. Makes me think I'll really have to hit up Burning Man one of these years ...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSdeD2F6snLDV7ArxHUg8gABZAE-ik0aCdaYwM87YH9P7MTEq_Ut7B9ESRskSm5UwPae1FH6W4emxIgH_jSkE9OjcPo6jjPjaXHYAxKwCmlQ-GgLgL0d4zEY39ErJenlaP7h63Mp1I3mM/s1600/DSCF0075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSdeD2F6snLDV7ArxHUg8gABZAE-ik0aCdaYwM87YH9P7MTEq_Ut7B9ESRskSm5UwPae1FH6W4emxIgH_jSkE9OjcPo6jjPjaXHYAxKwCmlQ-GgLgL0d4zEY39ErJenlaP7h63Mp1I3mM/s1600/DSCF0075.JPG" width="565" /></a></div>Overall, it was definitely a rockin' good time and I am glad that my little project got my butt to the California desert to experience the bliss and magic of Coachella. This little spring fling will turn into a yearly ritual, I can tell. Thanks to my Cali friends for showing me a fantastic time. Til next year!<br />
</div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO6x6jDuqpwcou0XJfP2GC-MOtdtULFwlaJL3VzQasaZvitGkq73r78Xl31CUbWfBMPHggfMEbqCcMP0XbJaYXx4gtLDK4bLHFf5fmJeoQci6zZVNWPlTzTGUrp5vj61XNlUMa0PyNbz4/s1600/Coachella-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO6x6jDuqpwcou0XJfP2GC-MOtdtULFwlaJL3VzQasaZvitGkq73r78Xl31CUbWfBMPHggfMEbqCcMP0XbJaYXx4gtLDK4bLHFf5fmJeoQci6zZVNWPlTzTGUrp5vj61XNlUMa0PyNbz4/s640/Coachella-2.jpg" width="492" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-74420161962338580782011-04-17T14:44:00.002-04:002011-05-10T17:55:47.453-04:00I just came to say hello!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2rXmX1lh9BU/TaswohG9y7I/AAAAAAAAB9s/UeEdZ_BxuxU/s1600/DSCF0067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2rXmX1lh9BU/TaswohG9y7I/AAAAAAAAB9s/UeEdZ_BxuxU/s1600/DSCF0067.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Holla from Coachella! It's been two awesome days of laying out in the grass enjoying the sunshine, the great music and fun company all around. There have been so many great shows so far but one of the most unexpectedly fun sets was Fedde le Grand's at the Sahara tent last night. We were pretty dead on our feet by the time we got there after being in the festival all afternoon in hundred degree heat but when this came on, we couldn't help but go nuts with the rest of the crowd ... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="454" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/5_Ma9APSjrQ" title="YouTube video player" width="565"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It's been two days so far of great music. I'll do a more comprehensive post and loads more videos soon but for now, I just wanted to stop by to say hello!</div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0pt; border-left: 0pt; border-right: 0pt; border-top: 0pt;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-2299722375404685352011-04-15T02:47:00.002-04:002011-10-16T17:15:06.921-04:00I guess I'm really doing this ...<div style="text-align: justify;">
You could say I've been living in some sort of denial for the last week.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've been fully immersed in the New York life as of late: speakeasies, artisanal bars, dive bars, Chinatown soup dumplings, mind-erasing house parties, brunches ... the whole shebang. It's no secret how much I love this crazy city and it feels strange to leave it just as it's waking up from it's winter stupor. You know you're living in the city of your dreams when you feel wistful leaving it even when there's a ridiculous amount of adventure coming up.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Or maybe it's just that even I'm having a difficult time wrapping my head around what lies ahead ...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fbZ3Vd0b18U/TafmyXf8HaI/AAAAAAAAGKk/M_-_3GaRfoA/s512/Desktop6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fbZ3Vd0b18U/TafmyXf8HaI/AAAAAAAAGKk/M_-_3GaRfoA/s640/Desktop6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
My itinerary for the next three weeks:<br />
<ul>
<li>April 15-17: A weekend in Indio, California rocking out at Coachella</li>
<li>April 18-19: Fly from Cali to Manila</li>
<li>April 20: Trek to swim in the crater of Mt. Pinatubo</li>
<li>April 21-23: A weekend in Donsol, Sorsogon to swim with whale sharks.</li>
<li>April 24-28: Mo' Manila</li>
<li>April 29-May 2: Journey to Sagada to spelunk in caves, see mummy burials spots, jump into waterfalls and soak up all that nature!</li>
<li>May 3-4: A little bit mo' Manila</li>
<li>May 5-6: Hong Kong</li>
<li>May 7: Macau to take on the highest bungee jump in the world at Macau Tower</li>
<li>May 8: Fly back home</li>
<li>May 9: It's up to you, New York, New Yoooork!</li>
</ul>
It's gonna be a crazy few weeks so stay tuned!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-324511411525005792011-04-11T09:00:00.002-04:002011-05-10T17:56:26.063-04:00Coachella Playlist: Walking on a Dream by Empire of the Sun<div style="text-align: justify;">Listening to "Walking on a Dream" by Empire of the Sun brings me back to my fantastic summer of 2010. My favorite Aussie Jodie introduced me to this band from Down Under when we watched their concert at Terminal 5 in New York last August. This song was part of the road trip soundtrack that Kate and I listened to on our seven-day road trip through the Southwest. In Ibiza, this song was our wakeup call, prodding us out of our vodka-induced slumber and out into the sunshine soaked pool. I have some really great memories with this song and it would be nice to create more when Empire of the Sun hits the stage at Coachella next week.</div><div align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/eimgRedLkkU" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-60378135155251759122011-04-10T11:54:00.000-04:002011-04-10T11:54:17.060-04:00Snapshot Sunday: Sintra, Portugal<div style="text-align: justify;">Last summer, I spent a week in Portugal <a href="http://www.30before30project.com/2010/07/charge-it-to-experience.html">to work around some visa issues</a> for my trip to Ibiza. It was a big gamble to travel solo to this country I'd never been to and where I didn't know a single soul. But it turned out to be one of the most amazing trips of my life. I <a href="http://www.30before30project.com/search/label/%2307%20learn%20to%20surf">learned how to surf</a>, made some incredibly cool friends, and saw so many amazing sights. This picture, taken at Castelo dos Mouros in Sintra illustrates how I felt then: I felt like the King of the World.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uRiM6nrExCM/TaHMf-B3X1I/AAAAAAAAB8k/Zn8XSwKhnbQ/s1600/IMG_1146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uRiM6nrExCM/TaHMf-B3X1I/AAAAAAAAB8k/Zn8XSwKhnbQ/s1600/IMG_1146.JPG" width="565" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sintra was one of the most picturesque places I visited in Portugal. A lush, beautifully preserved town steeped in Romantic architecture, all of Sintra is a UNESCO heritage site and visiting it is like stepping back in time. It is an easy day trip from Lisbon and a quick bus ride from our surf camp in Ericeira. The afternoon we spent there was not quite enough time to explore everything Sintra has to offer, but I wouldn't change anything about that day for the world. A morning of surfing, scrumptious wood-fired pizza by the beach for lunch, and an afternoon spent exploring the beautiful city of Sintra is a wonderful way to spend a summer day, no matter how you look at it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-12328060528790478552011-04-08T08:57:00.001-04:002011-05-10T17:56:43.091-04:00Coachella Playlist: Mumford and Sons<div style="text-align: justify;">I cannot stop listening to this song. Who knew banjos, foot-stomping and a wee bit of profanity were all elements of an addictive song? See you in a week boys!</div><div align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/lLJf9qJHR3E" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_05l8Pxf88Uw/TZ8EkSa97tI/AAAAAAAAB8I/F_qmnZOlv0A/s512/Mumford-Sons-Sigh-No-More.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_05l8Pxf88Uw/TZ8EkSa97tI/AAAAAAAAB8I/F_qmnZOlv0A/s1600/Mumford-Sons-Sigh-No-More.jpg" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-12244659794689449552011-04-06T23:47:00.001-04:002011-05-10T17:57:00.854-04:00You've got mailHello, lover ...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fbZ3Vd0b18U/TZ0kD_Ug0DI/AAAAAAAAGIA/JvlwyjXtc2s/s640/IMG_2561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fbZ3Vd0b18U/TZ0kD_Ug0DI/AAAAAAAAGIA/JvlwyjXtc2s/s1600/IMG_2561.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fbZ3Vd0b18U/TZ0kEQlpdHI/AAAAAAAAGIE/3J2hO_mHzWk/s640/IMG_2562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fbZ3Vd0b18U/TZ0kEQlpdHI/AAAAAAAAGIE/3J2hO_mHzWk/s1600/IMG_2562.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fbZ3Vd0b18U/TZ0kFaX7L6I/AAAAAAAAGII/4-yuNyQwALk/s640/IMG_2565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fbZ3Vd0b18U/TZ0kFaX7L6I/AAAAAAAAGII/4-yuNyQwALk/s1600/IMG_2565.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fbZ3Vd0b18U/TZ0kGMSkiuI/AAAAAAAAGIM/L5n7B3vTQEk/s640/IMG_2567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fbZ3Vd0b18U/TZ0kGMSkiuI/AAAAAAAAGIM/L5n7B3vTQEk/s1600/IMG_2567.JPG" width="565px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was a nail-biter of a wait but finally, my 2011 Coachella passes have come home to Mama. I bought these on layaway last December, not knowing who would be on the lineup and not realizing that the festival would sell out in five days once that stellar lineup did come out. It's music festival gold, pretty much, and I am stoked to finally have that sought-after wristband in my hands. Eight days to go, and I can't wait!</div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-211171863703187922011-04-06T02:11:00.003-04:002011-05-10T17:57:31.619-04:00Coachella Playlist: Arcade Fire<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.arcadefire.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/c1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.arcadefire.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/c1.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The truth is, I didn't know a thing about Arcade Fire until they ran away with the biggest prize at this year's Grammys. And though I realized then that there must be a reason why they have both that shiny new paperweight and a spot headlining at Coachella, I didn't make a huge effort to listen to their music until tonight. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I didn't realize there was a sound to the restlessness, nostalgia, acceptance of life's disappointments, and stark awareness of the years slipping past that so dogs those hanging halfway between youth and maturity until I listened to Arcade Fire's album, <i>The Suburbs</i>. It's music that definitely resonates with me, and I'm glad Coachella gave me the reason to dig in.<br />
<br />
</div><div align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0L6ZFhZVOx0" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><blockquote>These days my life, I feel it has no purpose<br />
But late at night the feelings swim to the surface<br />
'Cause on the surface the city lights shine<br />
They're calling at me, come and find your kind<br />
Sometimes I wonder if the world's so small<br />
That we can never get away from the sprawl<br />
<i>- The Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)</i></blockquote><br />
<div align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/CLjrQ3cwzJ4" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><blockquote>Now our lives are changing fast<br />
Hope that something pure can last<br />
It seems strange<br />
How we used to wait for letters to arrive<br />
But what's stranger still<br />
Is how something so small can keep you alive<br />
<i>- We Used To Wait</i></blockquote><br />
<div align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/5Euj9f3gdyM" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><blockquote>Sometimes I can't believe it<br />
I'm movin' past the feeling<br />
Sometimes I can't believe it<br />
I'm movin' past the feeling again<br />
<i>- The Suburbs</i></blockquote>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-53176614598416068312011-04-01T01:18:00.002-04:002011-04-01T01:22:59.616-04:00Winners are simply willing to do what losers won't.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJ00WKpNlYbka-Z4GJMKZHecIiit1wAw_ei09IhKrjUFjHHMBvG5ZZBjzh67DpX9ePKe2LNtQKCme0RGTmq-8OfC1a3xET6hULt7gIyCksZI3IF47s6-hAFm3-LrbFxPeIuSFFsqES6c/s1600/mdb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJ00WKpNlYbka-Z4GJMKZHecIiit1wAw_ei09IhKrjUFjHHMBvG5ZZBjzh67DpX9ePKe2LNtQKCme0RGTmq-8OfC1a3xET6hULt7gIyCksZI3IF47s6-hAFm3-LrbFxPeIuSFFsqES6c/s1600/mdb.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tonight I spent an hour and change at my very first boxing session, so it was inevitable that I would get to thinking about <i>Million Dollar Baby</i>. This great quote is from that movie and I thought it would be a good thing to share and keep in my back pocket for the next time I need a good kick in the butt.<br />
<br />
It's not because I have grand aspirations of being a champion boxer that I like this quote. As far as boxing is concerned, I'd be over the moon if I just learned how to jump rope like a boxer and if I could work that speed ball without looking like a kitten chasing string (more like <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D-69fLBlLQY">Hillary</a>, less like <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OVhVY3l5NBc">Monster Truck</a> is the goal). What I like about this quote is its emphasis on the will to do something.<br />
<br />
I wouldn't say that the last year has made me an expert on anything. I'm mediocre, at best, at the things I decided to tackle this year: running, poledancing, surfing, snowboarding—heck, even karaoke singing. But I already feel like I've won because it blows my mind to know how much I'm actually capable of. Now that I know what I can do, I can reach so much farther. All it took was the will to start.<br />
<br />
So I hope this quote gives you a good push if there's something you've been putting off forever. Stop being the person who wants to do things or loves to talk about someday doing things. Be the person who just goes and does it. </div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/87/7E3206F7DD25190CC0867F8C8B9A8F10.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-32979506141459045182011-03-31T10:24:00.001-04:002011-04-01T01:38:14.333-04:00How to make Mayan Coffee<b>Ingredients:</b> coffee, alcohol, whipped cream, cherries, orange peel and a streak of pyromania.<br />
<div align="center"><object height="308" width="550"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/645376698115" /><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/645376698115" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="550" height="308"></embed></object></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I can't vouch for how authentic this is in terms of Mayan tradition since this spectacle did take place after a ho-hum dinner at <a href="http://temptation.originalresorts.com/">Temptation Resort</a> in Cancun. Zoe described it best as "a beautiful thing to behold (but tasted like a stale cigar)." It's still worth ordering though. Even though my regular morning cup of coffee tastes better than this, I gotta admit the guy has a few more tricks up his sleeve than my coffee cart guy on the corner of 46th and Madison.</div><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264507107093536899.post-50671625583902571412011-03-30T01:29:00.000-04:002011-03-30T01:29:59.862-04:00Abrí mis ojos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_05l8Pxf88Uw/TZKk6rGr4yI/AAAAAAAAB6A/zrDrCduglvQ/s640/IMG00061-20101203-1953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_05l8Pxf88Uw/TZKk6rGr4yI/AAAAAAAAB6A/zrDrCduglvQ/s640/IMG00061-20101203-1953.jpg" width="565" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Tengo dolor de cabeza fuerte despues de estudiando a ultimo momento para mi examen.</i><br />
<br />
I probably made 5 mistakes in that one attempt to say something in Spanish but I don't care. My brain is completely fried from two days of futile cramming. Plus, I don't care because I can't coast by anymore. I have to try harder, even if it means I'll look stupid.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
I am tired of sucking at Spanish. So I'm gonna try to do a bit more than just attend my weekly classes and scribble out my homework during my lunch break. I'm gonna force in a little bit of Español into every day in some shape or form. Today I watched two hours of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_Reina_del_Sur_%28telenovela%29"><i>La Reina del Sur</i></a> on Telemundo's On Demand channel. It seems like it could be a compelling telenovela. Once I got past the fact that the heroine selected turquoise colored pumps to run for her life in for the entire first episode, I was hooked. The telenovela is based on the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Reina-del-Sur-Tie--Spanish/dp/1616053232/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1301461791&sr=8-1">best-selling novel</a> of the same name written by Arturo Pérez-Reverte about the rise of a female drug lord whose reach spanned three continents. Who knows, maybe someday I'll even read the book.</div><div align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0rnM_sdVJE8" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Another novel method of practicing I've stumbled onto: Tweeting. Last Sunday, I attempted to express my frustration at studying (while using a subjunctive) in a Tweet and got an impromptu lesson from the lovely <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/emilyinchile">@emilyinchile</a>, who kindly helps out in the grammar department when she's not blogging about her life in Santiago de Chile at <a href="http://www.emilyinchile.com/">Don't Call Me Gringa</a>. <i>¡Muchas gracias</i> Emily! I'm thinking of designating one day per week for Tweets <i>solamente en Español. Lo siento, chicos y chicas, pero es necesario.</i> I will understand if you decide to unfollow me based on that alone.<i><br />
</i></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbJUwmp_9qz6FKqrkwiAjJFrv7UHJrbtwcX-UCc4jGSro9YEDJCOiP0sImTkHoJVaYqJqeNHkp8K9MWgfEIyTpGayLOxB5d8BtbokjOgfOpoCmCPJdJY4lKa8XGdJTCW6qFdPKuDAJciI/s1600/Tweet.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbJUwmp_9qz6FKqrkwiAjJFrv7UHJrbtwcX-UCc4jGSro9YEDJCOiP0sImTkHoJVaYqJqeNHkp8K9MWgfEIyTpGayLOxB5d8BtbokjOgfOpoCmCPJdJY4lKa8XGdJTCW6qFdPKuDAJciI/s1600/Tweet.png" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVSSvQXFt3z71Ke7-A2ogm_UBrzPK5RfdFzfXnS83Rlpi8M_x9sBIwWUjNwr2nxkfy6D9WHcl5Z9aG-pQOZ21b8YA2raRB2G2yJ3JS2MiXjKMflSq38YtwF9frWcOfOMbuzdRCkvDprJA/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-03-27+at+5.15.44+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVSSvQXFt3z71Ke7-A2ogm_UBrzPK5RfdFzfXnS83Rlpi8M_x9sBIwWUjNwr2nxkfy6D9WHcl5Z9aG-pQOZ21b8YA2raRB2G2yJ3JS2MiXjKMflSq38YtwF9frWcOfOMbuzdRCkvDprJA/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-03-27+at+5.15.44+PM.png" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsXY3jmi9TnyR4s7V3rpmAxDTjRH_D1oTjB5gTQ7M0Lkti8BovxSM8JTRwVmEK0WQMGT4Yex2I4d3xpGKWK8DGcqVI_zNZlp9K46aS4w40WQjc1kutCpf5Ih6LUHhM8iaU9UNCaDsM0Q/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-03-27+at+5.58.11+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsXY3jmi9TnyR4s7V3rpmAxDTjRH_D1oTjB5gTQ7M0Lkti8BovxSM8JTRwVmEK0WQMGT4Yex2I4d3xpGKWK8DGcqVI_zNZlp9K46aS4w40WQjc1kutCpf5Ih6LUHhM8iaU9UNCaDsM0Q/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-03-27+at+5.58.11+PM.png" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkPav2mFWDhefZdrVzm4siUj688IP1K2cs6iQoF_9s3aQXBuYT59KZyMJB2BjskqYPZZeXVc73OQIwAT8cMtskLe8U8V6lMreJ-s0Xj9lUVidupI4oJDuYRqE3FhIeCxPK_KvFx63pE_Y/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-03-27+at+5.58.27+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkPav2mFWDhefZdrVzm4siUj688IP1K2cs6iQoF_9s3aQXBuYT59KZyMJB2BjskqYPZZeXVc73OQIwAT8cMtskLe8U8V6lMreJ-s0Xj9lUVidupI4oJDuYRqE3FhIeCxPK_KvFx63pE_Y/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-03-27+at+5.58.27+PM.png" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6nfKutPOgc6rDhKjKviWo5J88E4_CeD1-4vTQZLG34AcdGJyZspjfjJcO4dM0rblfXqGe7wNuaNlzekPvi7pZ8ngyWKxCHICk6mg4jqG2JVwZXhqVrGB6cyrZd6XEhPuVwNG2gcD-ZQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-03-27+at+5.58.51+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6nfKutPOgc6rDhKjKviWo5J88E4_CeD1-4vTQZLG34AcdGJyZspjfjJcO4dM0rblfXqGe7wNuaNlzekPvi7pZ8ngyWKxCHICk6mg4jqG2JVwZXhqVrGB6cyrZd6XEhPuVwNG2gcD-ZQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-03-27+at+5.58.51+PM.png" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_y5psjOJIiOU5fs10DZdYw8ZRuIDTKuWVPZHQZQfiiDX03WaniVlyJdaj8HoRz_TgwYcbJI-XfbXNxkrbrciAar-ao-8w9iU24T3fKm5fRdw_fus7nx4816tRbsgOzF6t4VKMDNOXUek/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-03-27+at+5.59.00+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_y5psjOJIiOU5fs10DZdYw8ZRuIDTKuWVPZHQZQfiiDX03WaniVlyJdaj8HoRz_TgwYcbJI-XfbXNxkrbrciAar-ao-8w9iU24T3fKm5fRdw_fus7nx4816tRbsgOzF6t4VKMDNOXUek/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-03-27+at+5.59.00+PM.png" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">My iPod playlists are also coming into play. I've been listening to Juanes ever since my South American friends introduced me to their music back when I was a wee intern in Stuttgart. I have to say, it's even more enjoyable now that I understand the lyrics better!<i> A Dios le pido</i>, a song I loved and danced to numerous times before I understood the words, turns out to be quite good for practicing subjunctives. One of the uses of the subjunctive form is to express <i>deseos</i> or wishes, so a song that asks God for a whole lot of stuff helps to get subjunctives on the brain.<i></i></div><div align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/kMIaYXxLnUA" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><div align="justify">And then there's my daily dose of Neruda. His poems, full of romantic entreaties, are quite good for familiarizing oneself with imperatives.<br />
<blockquote><i>Quitame el pan, si quieres,</i><br />
<i>quitame el aire, pero</i><br />
<i>no me quites tu risa.</i></blockquote></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/_fbZ3Vd0b18U/TYaDa1knQ2I/AAAAAAAAGCw/Osos_yaPa9A/IMG_2558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/_fbZ3Vd0b18U/TYaDa1knQ2I/AAAAAAAAGCw/Osos_yaPa9A/IMG_2558.JPG" width="565" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Hopefully, all the little tricks in addition to my lessons will add up to a Spanish-unleashing Celine someday. Someday before May 21, 2011, preferably.<i> Ojala.</i><br />
<br />
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