the birds

My office building attracts so many birds who build their nests on the small corners by the ceiling. They also like shitting anywhere they please so the building maintenance staff has to constantly scrape encrusted bird droppings off corridor floors. Since I work on the topmost floor I get to see them huddled together on verandas or building their nests or pecking each other (?) or taking a dump every time I go out of the room.

In the recent weeks several people from the office have been noticing how these birds seem to be multiplying and leaving bigger poop marks. Is this a seasonal thing? The nest-removing maintenance boys climb their aluminum ladders more often, but the birds keep on coming back with their twigs anyway. And then, the Indian cleaning lady who regularly washes the verandas with water and soap has given up and decided she can’t deal with so much dried excrement everyday. Yesterday morning, I came out of the elevator with my colleague Nana when I saw a pigeon leisurely perched on top a corridor post. It suddenly unfurled its wings, fluttered about just a few meters above our heads, making my companion shriek, “Bloody hell!” (although not like Tippi Hedren in The Birds)

Jetty Hedren, star of The Fowls as well as other theoretical films by Narciszieschtzsky, on the other hand, is terrified of live turkeys, chickens, ducks and other birds that walk on land. He can’t look at them and he doesn’t want to go near them.

Current Music: Creation – Making Time

we're in the basement!

Rino chose not to take the tour package for his Singapore trip. I think he made the right decision. (Surely, I told him, there are other things to see here than the zoo.) He said he was delighted to see—in less than 5 hours during his first night here—both the squeaky-clean areas as well as the sleazy ghetto in town. We even got to see so many hookers in what is popularly known as this city’s Flesh Avenue. (No action for both of us though, as expected.)

Friday morning, Rino figured out how to get to Sentosa (zzzzzzz...) on his own. I actually haven’t seen Sentosa—and frankly I’m in no rush to go there—so I can’t say if it’s as wonderful as the marketing materials say it is. He stayed there until late in the afternoon, riding cable cars, overcoming his acrophobia at the Carlsberg tower thing, and taking so many pictures of the integrated resort construction site.

After work I met him at the Tanjong Pagar train station where I told him I’d bring him to Chinatown for dinner. I showed him the red dot Traffic, the building where I work. “This used to be the headquarters of the traffic police. Which explains the precinct feel to it.” I also showed him the Maxwell Foodcourt (hawker center where I usually have my lunch), The Scarlet Hotel, The Buddha Tooth Relic Temple and the Sri Mariamman Temple before we ate some Hong Kong-style dimsum beside the Chinatown sex shop. And then we checked out the sex shop after dinner.

“This area is one of the funkiest neighborhoods here,” I told him as we strolled around the Ann Siang Hill area. Most of the old shophouses here were spruced up to give shelter to cute little boutiques, small patiserries and cafes, and creative agencies. When we're not talking as though I know so much about Singapore, we talked about the joys, frustrations and general absurdity of independent living.

We took the train to the City Hall area to grab some beer at CHIJMES, a dining and entertainment complex that used to be a Catholic convent. I took some pictures of him with cute maids at the Cosafe Maid Cafe, which is supposedly inspired by some anime. I have very limited knowledge of anime (I liked Death Note though), so maybe one of the Fushigi Girls could explain this Cosafe concept to him when he gets back in Manila. (Photo: From the smile on his face I could tell he’s having so much fun.) Wir fahr'n fahr'n fahr'n auf der Autobahn...

Rino's in town!

Immediately after work I dashed to the Tanjong Pagar MRT station to catch the next train to Changi Airport. Rino sent a text message saying he’s just arrived, and then I replied “Welcome to Singapore! I’ll be 40 minutes late!” To amuse himself while waiting for me at Terminal 2, he sent some racist (I don’t think he meant them though) remarks about some locals.

I picked him up at Changi Airport where I also handed him a city map and a set of tour brochures. The plan was that he has to explore the city on his own today while I work my ass off in the office to earn more money. (As of press time he’s checking out Sentosa—a place I haven’t been to.) As soon as we settled his stuff at the hotel, we took the train to Orchard Road for a dinner of…chicken rice. For the second part of dinner I brought him to MOS Burger in Takashimaya for some great Japanese junk food.

The rich repository of chismis that he is, Rino didn’t waste time dispensing everything he knows. He covered everything from our blockmates’ whereabouts to sex scandals and actual murder. Not that all individuals mentioned in our conversation had/have any material impact on our lives. It was just refreshing to talk about the Philippines and the people we knew or heard about because, really, if I give Rino the lowdown on my stupid concerns here I’ll probably bore him to death.

I also learned that he had just met up with our Sydney-based friend Rane Gimena, who visited Manila for a few days. She had two servings of Rodic’s tapsilog. I miss Rodic’s tapsilog but I miss having hilarious conversation with these two perverts more.

Aside from bringing with him a wealth of useless gossip, thoughtful Rino gave me a wonderful present from Manila: a large Ziploc bag containing five packs of Chocnut. Of all things. Now I have to ask around where he could buy surveillance cameras and those melon-like objects he’s so obsessed about.

Photos: 1) Rino at Changi Airport's Terminal 2, 2) Rino by the chicken rice stall at Wisma, and 3) Chocnut from Manila.

oktoberfest

There’s probably nothing like constant supply of cold beer and sausages to end an exhausting workweek, and that’s exactly what my colleagues and I had at the mini-Oktoberfest held at Clarke Quay last weekend. I told myself I should stop going to these events because I have been gaining weight like crazy, sadly. But no.


This is a group of beer-guzzling Westerners sitting next to our table. If I’m not mistaken, they were the same bunch of guys who gave some inspirational words, “Let’s get drunk!” way before I even started on my drink. They left their table very, very happily tanked up. (I absolutely hated those moving green lights that brought out the Incredible Hulk/Shrek in them.)

The band played traditional Bavarian music, as well as familiar tunes such as “When The Saints Go Marching In” and “American Patrol” (but their version is faster than the one popularized by Glenn Miller and His Orchestra). I wasn't up for the dancing, although I had a million laughs just watching [drunk] people having fun and taking pictures.


Who gets tipsy after drinking only two pints of Erdinger? Me, apparently. (This only shows I haven't had a proper drinking session since I moved here.) The effects of such a small amount of alcohol is reflected by the strange (maniac) smile I have in this photo with Heidi...



...aaaaand an even stranger smile I have in this photo with the male Heidi, who, I think, was the one who organized that silly game where participants had to devour huge sausages, take their shirts off and drink a pint of beer through a straw.



Before heading home some of us decided to try some dondurma (Turkish ice cream) sold by a stone-cold sober Turkish vendor who was behaving in a hyperactive way. He and his enterprise, however, have nothing to do with the Oktoberfest.

bustling saigon

I have decided to stop blogging about the Vietnam trip (which took place almost two months ago). After this post.

In Ho Chi Minh they have more motorbikes than cars. (Even the young, lovely ladies who are all dressed up and in full make-up zoom off with amazing confidence.) Galeng and scary at the same time.

Three aunties hawking fruits and native delicacies by the Benh Than market, Ho Chi Minh’s version of Le Devoir de Manille.

Pink strips of paper with Chinese calligraphy posted on the walls of the oldest Chinese temple in town.

Busy street along the periphery of the marketplace.

A Tintin wall decor inside the lacquer goods store! I was crazy about Tintin when I was a kid (until now actually) and I always found expressions like “Crumbs!” or “Blistering barnacles!” amusing even though I never use them in real-life situations. I learned English from reading Tintin (I would never ever say I have good command of the language though), and now I wonder if I could learn French from reading the French-version of Tintin.

The Saigon Post Office located beside the Notre Dame Cathedral.

Phone booths inside the Post Office.

The Opera View across the Opera House. There’s the Louis Vuitton shop which some say is the indication of the rapid development and burgeoning economy of the country.

The Opera House across The Opera View.