Signing out...

Ok so this moving out thing doesn't seem to be working but I have to make it work just the same. How does one create a photo album?!? I started out being intimidated by the entire blogsphere and still am. It's a mystery why I want to complicate my life by taking on a more 'advanced' blog site.

Only friends from my office (back in Manila) are cheeky enough to say I probably have "too much time in my hands to blog" :) I say it keeps me sane. And grounded. That there's more to life than work (which yes, definitely, I am grateful for).

So hope to bump into you at http://pattychronicles.multiply.com/. Still under construction though.

Over and out.

Preparing to move out and multiply

On my 30th blog (whoohoo!) I'm announcing plans to move out of this site. A bit unsettling because I'm already used to this set-up. I feel like there's more flexibility in terms of customising the layout, fonts and all this sort of stuff.

I want to share more photos though, hence, the decision to move out which I'm unable to do here. Yes, it took me months to admit it's time to pack up and go.

I'll leave you with this (second to the) final shot. It was taken forty thousand feet (or so) above sea level at the break of dawn on my way from Europe back to Asia. Yes, I purposely woke up, amidst interrupted sleep and all, just to watch the sunrise. It's always a beautiful sight to behold the start and end of a day from this perspective. How often does one literally catch rainbow colours splashed on clouds that collectively look more like "frozen" turbulent sea?

Ok, poetry aside, I'll let you know once my new space is up and running. Still under construction. Ciao bellos!

Discovering a new side to Bangkok: quick trip to the hospital

Just got back from the Bumrungrad International Hospital (Sukhumvit) to have my hand sutured. Accidentally cut the base of my left index finger with a meat cleaver this morning!

Apart from profuse bleeding which I've never seen before live, I kept wondering why I was not feeling any pain --- except whenever the wound was inspected. Must have been my adrenaline running and/or the angels I asked God to send to heal my wound quickly! Hahaha :)

Past injuries must have taught me how to stay calm in situations like these. I was trying hard not to laugh when I found myself trying to calm down the reception staff, Khun Sarin, who went up to my apartment to check my wound. I asked her to sit down when I thought she was about to faint at the sight of blood gushing out and simply instructed her step-by-step what to do: clean my wound with antiseptic, cover with balls of cotton to absorb the blood, tape with plaster while I put pressure on it to stop the bleeding. She was to hail me a cab to bring me to the nearest English-speaking hospital while I dress up to leave (another challenge altogether!).

Suffice it to say, true to its reputation, the hospital I went to had a very able and efficient staff with very good facilities. In between negotiations to cut down the number of stitches and whether to suture with local anaesthesia or not, they managed to close up the wound with 7 stitches that can come off in 7 days. The doctor, Dr. Weerapat, was surprised when I asked if I could watch him suture my wound since the affected area was already feeling numb at that point (I actually felt the first few stitches). I've always wanted to know how that looks like in real life. I don't know why he asked me if I was a doctor. I sat up and watched but he stopped sewing onto my skin then he just gently asked me to lie down. Fine. I wonder why he didn't let me watch. One of my doctors before, Dr. Wang, didn't mind if I watched him take out the stitches from my knee (when I had my ACL surgery). Maybe because Dr. Wang knew me well enough not to get queasy over these things.

Nevertheless, regardless of nationality, I felt again the same almost awe-struck gratefulness to my doctor and the medical staff who attended to my wound as I've always felt towards others in the past.

Most people I know hate the smell of hospitals because it reminds them of death, suffering and despair. I don't know why I've always liked the smell of hospitals. Maybe because it reminds me of healing, renewal and hope.

Thank God for doctors!

Blog quiz mirrors on the wall

I was reading a friend's blog and saw a few facets to her as she shared results of blog quizzes she had been taking. It suggested that if she were a superhero, she'd be Wonderwoman, a true Harry Potter fan and that she is very selfless (to a fault) judging from her bathroom habits.

So I decided to take one of those quizzes she passed on (I won't tell which one) and suprisingly went on a mindless binge taking one after another. I'm almost certain half of it isn't true. Here's the result of a predicatable question: How daring are you?

It's interesting to see how a computer can say the kind of sandwich, mixed drink or bikini I could be. The topics span from esotheric-philosophical to downright silly. I went LoL when it churned out if I had a bad girl reputation or not. If you knew me you would know what I am if I were ;)

Here's the link to the blog quiz if you're interested: http://www.blogthings.com/howdaringareyouquiz/

One Reason for yellow Mondays & happy stray dogs

Only a fool will miss the obvious fact that this nation absolutely adores its longest reigning monarch (apparently also in the world), HM King Bhumibol Adulyadej. Much has been reported about his image (voluntarily) plastered all over the country and Thais wearing yellow on Mondays (Monday is the day the King was born and yellow is the colour for Monday), clearly to pay tribute to him --- no doubt for his immense contribution to this country.

As an outsider looking in, it's impossible not to admire this influential and well-loved leader. It's fascinating to see how 'real' his relationship is with his people. It's almost like that of a grandfather with a grandchild --- the closest analogy I could think of is that of the fondness devout Roman Catholics have for the late Pope John Paul II.

The King's influence on the Thai people is so far-reaching that I shouldn't have been surprised to find out that one of the reasons stray (native) dogs thrive in this country is because the King is a strong supporter of these 'un-pedigreed' canines. I had mentioned previously how it amazes me to see the chubbiest dogs in this country. And it's quite a common thing to see groups (packs) of stray dogs lazily sprawled on pedestrian lanes with no care at all if you notice them or not. Back in my country, the stray dogs I've seen are not only the most pitiful scraggly creatures one would ever find. You also see this 'praning' (paranoid) expression on their faces as though they were about to be punished (butchered?). I know it's weird but try looking hard at one and you'll see what I mean. But here in the Land of Smiles, you will find the most contented and relaxed stray dogs. They are as unperturbed as their local human counterparts.

What has the King got to do with it?

The King is a dog-lover who promotes caring for the native variety. Testament to the principle of 'mahalin ang sariling-atin' (love your own). He has a dog named, Thong Daeng, who's actually a popular figure in this country owing perhaps to the book the King wrote about this dog. To quote Wikipedia:

"Thong Daeng, a female copper-coloured dog, is one of the pets owned by King Bhumibol Adulyadej of Thailand. Bhumibol adopted Thong Daeng in 1998 from the litter of a stray dog that had been taken in by a medical center he had recently dedicated. Her name means "copper" in Thai.

"Bhumibol called her "A common dog who is uncommon," and in 2002 wrote an affectionate biography of her titled "The Story of Thong Daeng". The book is commonly referred to as a parable on many social topics. For instance, the King wrote that "Tongdaeng is a respectful dog with proper manners; she is humble and knows protocol. She would always sit lower than the King; even when he pulls her up to embrace her, Tongdaeng would lower herself down on the floor, her ears in a respectful drooping position, as if she would say, 'I don't dare.'

"All the names of the dogs owned by the King start with the word "Thong" (lit. gold).

"The book instantly sold out in Thailand. Riot-like scenes unfolded in shops as customers wrestled and fought with each other over the last few items. Since demand was so high, the book became an esteemed gift. Shortages of the book had to be kept down by multiple reprints."

Here's a copper-coloured stray dog in Koh Samed who struck the perfect pose to get us to feed him our left-over dinner. At nagpadala naman kami (and we let it get to us)!

Vatican City

A trip to the Vatican City forged my sentiment about Michelangelo being one of the greatest, if not the best, visual artist of all time. I personally feel his frescoes at the Sistine Chapel, which took him 4 years to finish, encompass his genius as a painter. Here is a self-portrait within “The Last Judgment” which he said depicts exactly how he felt after he finished, which was “very exhausted, like creeping out of (his) own skin.” When our tour guide explained this unusual self-portrait, I couldn’t help thinking how he could prefer to immortalise himself in such a “negative” way. It was only when I actually saw the Sistine Chapel for myself, which was stagerring to say the least considering it was work “he accepted reluctantly, because his only real love, then as in all his life, was not painting but sculpture,” that I began to understand why he felt so “spent.”

Later on, readings consistently revealed the same “reluctant” if not almost “resentful” feelings he had about this famous fresco. “This was due not only to the sheer size of the surface that he had to cover with frescoes (some 500 square meters) and the complex design of the whole work, but also to the extremely uncomfortable position in which he had to work, and the poor lighting, which made the task even more difficult. During all these years Michelangelo had gradually become more unsociable, bad-tempered and irascible…he was, as we put it today, a ‘difficult’ person, but in fact he was only giving vent to the nervous tension inside him.”

Unfortunately I don’t have photos to share of the Sistine Chapel or other paintings for that matter. Either I was scared of our tour guide who admitted she felt “defiled or slapped whenever tourists flash their cameras” or I genuinely felt I needed to give my proper respect by refraining to do so. It’s probably in between both.

I don't know if it's because I don't ‘respect’ sculptures as much as paintings --- in my mind, sculptures are probably less sensitive to light as paintings. I could be wrong --- but there I was amongst throngs of people who clicked away (still mindful of my tour guide's sentiments who didn't seem to mind). So here are a few things I took. I have so many other stories behind each piece but I don’t want to bore you with the details. So I’ll just hide behind the statement, “pictures speak a thousand words."

Milano – Italian Cuisine and Coffee 101

In contrast to my disappointment at not being able to explore more of the city, I found that the most tastefully satisfying meal I had during this trip was in Milan. An Italian colleague brought us to this slick ristorante where I had my dose of seafood pasta and my first formal instruction (later to be consistently stressed, reminded and added on by dozens of other after him) on the DO’s and DON’Ts of Italian cuisine:

1. DO follow the order of when you should be having your anti-pasti, pasta, secondi, etc. DON’T have things mixed up like having your main dish served with your salad, very much unlike us Asians (consistent across countries) who like everything all in the ‘middle.’ This explains the discrimination, I mean, the dagger looks we sometimes got from waitresses in the earlier cities we visited. They must have thought, “What barbarians!”
2. DO have coffee after dolce (desert), pure and unadulterated (espresso as we foreigners call it) unlike the kind you find in Starbucks --- that coffee Italians call “Americano.”
3. DO finish every platter of food you’re served. It is an insult to the chef (usually also the ristorante owner) if you DON’T. Again, unlike this Asian trait where we often leave a piece of every dish (served in the ‘middle’) --- aka in Filipino as the hiya (shy) piece --- and bashfully ask the others if no one is taking it before finally consuming.
4. DO take coffee (espresso) at the right time which is after 10 am. DO take capuccino during breakfast before 10am because you still have the rest of the day to digest it since it’s relatively heavy (with cream) compared to the typical coffee
5. DO have the option to take coffee with milk --- this they call macchiatto.
6. DO enjoy your meal slowly. Every delectable piece (and they are delectable) is prepared very carefully by the chef or the cook (who would oftentimes be their mother, wife if not themselves). That’s why, as practically every Italian I talked to professes, McDonald’s or Starbucks DON’T and will not work in Italy (ok, might work for the really unfortunate masses, they say) because fastfood, to them, is simply anti-culture.

Taray!