Condominium Living:
My Second Report Card


My daughter recently asked if I wanted to move to another unit in the same condominium building or put a down on a rent-to-own condominium of my choice. She initially suggested Taguig but I stuck to looking for one where I live or somewhere in Quezon City. Give or take:

• My studio is getting packed with stuff that I sometimes pull out from an apartment I maintain
in Antipolo or buy for reasons, topmost of which is practicality. I now get small rather than
family size packs of food, utensils, toiletries to name a few. Sachets work better, that way
I throw away smaller non-biodegradable, non-invasive to my trash can, packaging material.

• I am learning to make use of space in every way I can, and there’s less to clean, light furniture to move and less dirt to sweep, in fact my maid sometimes scoops it with her hands straight to the trash.

• Except for some smells I can’t stand, like the mix of beer and cigarettes, stench coming from the sewage (next door), I can get to the 12th floor blindfolded because the nose knows.

• Gaining friends including two little girls who would just love to raid my refrigerator for candies
and such, is wonderful except I don’t let them stay too long or they’d like to tinker with everything.

• My laundry is now well managed, such that I list my stuff and the laundry shop personnel ticks off the item to show they’ve inspected before putting them in the bag. Sometimes they iron my clothes, real cheap when my maid doesn’t feel like coming.

• Still have a problem getting a ride at 3:00 o’clock in the morning, unbelievable! Tricycle drivers
have made the building across ours their makeshift sleeping quarters. If you wake them, you would have to wipe their saliva off.

• I’m having a difficulty understanding Koreans, aren’t they supposed to be visitors and not act like they own the elevators?

• SkyCable is the only provider here but given a choice, I’d go for Destiny – it’s friendlier and less haughty and maybe if I call customer service they’d hand me to a supervisor. More on this in my other blogsite…

• The condo building is getting to look like an extension of where I work, there’s probably one on every floor or maybe hiding under my bed.

• I’d still walk a mile for Seven-Eleven, found a new kind of tea there instead of chamomile, it’s BioFitea, weight reducer, body toxins remover with Senna leaves and Pods.

All told, if I ever leave the studio it’ll be for a reason and that reason is mine. Capish?

THE CLIFF ROYALE

Water from Solar Energy, Anyone?

The first thing that will strike you as you walk up or drive to the reception area of THE CLIFF ROYALE is the rustic, feel-at-home ambience. Situated on a one-hectare, hilly beach property in Barangay Barretto, Olongapo, the resort is owned by 10 families that pooled their resources in the late 90s, to develop the resort. If you ask why the Barangay is named so, everyone is quick to point to Greta (we all know who she is and she's not a Garbo) descending from the Governor of Olongapo years ago.

From a germ of an idea, Toffie Vasquez, an acclaimed resort developer, turned the property into 3-star to 3.5-star (depending on one's viewpoint) clusters of rooms, clubhouses and picnic areas overlooking the beach. All told, there are 35 units in separate cottages that can be rented to vacationeers, or simply for an overnight stay.

Some 18 of us in a team headed by TL Abbey, hied off to Olongapo one sunny Thursday afternoon with nary a drizzle along the express ways. We didn't care about the forecast, confident we were going to have splendid weather at least when there. Little did we know Metro Manila was sullied by inclement weather well into the next day.

We alighted from the vans on top of a hill to be greeted by a stream of water by the foot of the resort’s reception area. Luis, Gammy, Hans and a couple others washed their hands in the running water, flowing down on a figurine frog. There was lush foliage adorning the stream and noticeably warm air by the stairs, which perplexed Jenny and Malou if that was an air conditoner’s exhaust.

Tired from work and from the 2 hours trip, we settled into our rooms, felt the mattresses (four to five in a room), and explored the kitchen, foremost. It had a refrigerator, a two-burner gas stove, kitchen utensils and dinnerware. We needn’t after all had to buy environment unfriendly plastic spoons and forks and those styro plates, but this writer found it neat that someone thought to wrap the plates with plastic for easy disposal.

Master planner Connie assigned us into groups to prepare dinner, breakfast and lunch. Since it was nearly dinner time, Mario and Joseph started the fire with charcoal for the inihaw na baboy. We got lechon manok on the way to THE CLIFF along the main road in Olongapo. Good thinking that Connie had earlier requested the resort’s staff to cook rice. Boy, it was fit for an army.

After dinner, the guys gravitated to the large gazebo, over videoke and drinks, the latter being chilled under packs of tube ice. Remember Ram? This time he was the bartender and no longer the chef and yikes, he rendered a song! Donna, Jen, Malou, Jacque, Dems and Gee took turns with the mike, and so did TL Abbey, all of whom crooned the night away. As for the guys, they compared tattoos… and rocked the music. Gelo quietly nursed some drinks while shooting his camera propped somewhere on his new tripod.

This author if you want to know, was in deep slumber till 11 o’clock, oh, was that at night? Lost track of the time, I woke up to muscle cramps on my left leg and thought maybe I should exercise my vocal chords as if at all that was some kind of remedy. Too late for me to hear Giovanni, but that he doesn’t eat pork was a revelation next day. To cap the night, Joseph, Gammy, Luis, Ram and I took a dip into the pool, myself to shake off what I ate for dinner.

For breakfast, we had the staples, such as garlic rice, spam (the real one), hotdogs, scrambled eggs with tomatoes and onions, hot choco and coffee, and tuyo (Filipino anchovies). Still on a diet, I had a cup of cereal out of my food contingency and a pear. Off we went to market to get stuff for lunch, with Jacque calling the shots what to buy, Malou picked a footlong talakitok, shrimps and more liempo.

Come lunch, Donna, Bing, Gelo and Gammy were in shades. As for Bing, it was a case of mosquito bites and for the rest, that is left to your own consternation.

A discovery wanting to be shared to readers, is that the water running through the faucets in all the units at THE CLIFF is solar powered. You can have water from warm to hot depending on your needs for bathing or washing, except for coffee, which you will have to run at least for 15 minutes to kilI the microbes. Imagine though how much savings on electricity solar energy provides for instance to THE CLIFF ROYALE. Imagine too if all the resorts along the same shore were of the same wave length. Bravo to THE CLIFF ROYALE if for that alone.


The author wishes to thank Mrs. Elisa Montecastro, one of the owners of THE CLIFF ROYALE who granted an interview. She oversees the resort for a hobby but her mainline is embroidery.

Eat, Pray, Love

A Movie Review with Focus on Bali

After much ado about seeing the movie Eat, Pray, Love, this time I braved seeing it alone despite the typhoon alert. It was difficult coordinating with friends that I decided the least path of resistance was to see it on my grocery day. A thought came to pass shortly before going to Megamall, that given a choice and the ever elusive opportunity, Bali would make a wonderful place for a honeymoon. Little that I knew most of the film was shot in Bali. I was hooked.

Based on her book of the same title, Elizabeth Gilbert played by Julia Roberts goes into a journey to find herself starting in Bali after breaking up a marriage which she wasn’t ready for. The movie has several flashbacks, one has to thread the pieces together – the husband (Stephen) is played by Billy Crudup who fights for Liz across the deposition table for their divorce. He represents himself at the deposition, arguing that he truly loves Liz, and is caught sobbing in the elevator after Liz puts her foot down.

Liz, who seeks a life balance after a failed relationship plunges for budding stage actor, a much younger man played by James Franco. Short lived and a doom to fail relationship, they fall apart and Liz goes to three destinations to journey into herself, and into food trips. She travels to Indonesia, Italy and India. In Italy she learns the language just enough to get by, sees the familiar ruins of the Colosseum among others. This is where I dozed off a bit and missed the annotations, as I conjured La Fontana de Trevi would have made a better fit in the movie, like tossing 3 coins in the fountain which I did a long time ago. That Liz (as the author) would have thought it better to pray than to wish was her creative treatment of the plot.

Ahhh, then in India she finds an Ashram and goes deep into prayer and meditation. She hears the sentiments of a young woman who obediently weds according to an arranged marriage. Amidst the festivities to celebrate the wedding, Liz recalls her own wedding reception where she and Stephen as the newly wed couple dance to “Celebration” (you know that hip hop song?) -- her groom with much more vitality than she.

A year into finding peace and tranquility by meditation, she returns to Bali where she meets a Brazilian divorcee (played by Javier Bardem) except the man has had a longer flight into single bliss than she has. Their minds meet, their souls merge, the man prepares dinner for her in one scene, what else can Liz ask for? She takes the man to Ketut, her favorite soothsayer, and the audience is left to surmise what comes after.

I like that the movie showed Liz biking through the streets of Bali and its suburbs. What I can’t reconcile is that Liz is supposedly a thirty plus year old character which Julia Roberts in this movie doesn’t seem to be appropriate for. Julia looks much older with her sunken cheeks and her unkempt straw blonde hair.

I like that the movie subliminally features alternative medicine such that when Liz suffered minor ailments like a cut on her leg caused by a fall from her bicycle, she turns to Wayan, a local “medicine woman.” She and her daughter Tutti live in a rundown place in the outskirts of Bali, treat Liz’s cut and plasters it with a leaf. In the Philippines, guava leaves would be the best to heal a cut or a wound. I like that Liz raises money to a tune of $18,000 for Wayan and Tutti to build a home.

As in most of the movie reviews I have done, I pick what impresses me most and it doesn’t have to be related to the plot. In Eat, Pray, Love, I noticed the light materials and the breezy, balmy ambiance of the homes where most scenes took place. I learned from Wikipedia, that Bali weather has marginal differences in temperature, meaning there could be heavy downpour of only about thirty minutes to an hour in any serious weather change. Meaning further, houses don’t have to be fortified with long span roofing materials and wood is the main component, it looks like. My Dad exported wood to Indonesia way back, I’m wondering if that was his major market.

Condominium Living: My First Report Card

Having lived in a condo for a little over a year, I am inclined to think living in one is NOT ALWAYS DEFINITELY for convenience. It could be liberating on the one end; it could be short of wanting on the other.

* One big typhoon last year and I slept through for about 4 hours without electricity.
* Long weekends are a bore, not even the beauty parlor is open.
* One laundry in the basement lost my polo shirt which happened to be a favorite one. The owner of the laundry shop paid me in installments.
* Christmas get togethers with family and friends were mostly at restaurants rather than in the condo.
* Two times in the pool to catch the sun during the summer weren’t enough to give me a tan.
* Damaged bathroom fittings could be expensive to replace if the condo personnel were to do it. I was presented a five hundred peso statement for a less than ten minute job, labor only. What irked me the most was his audacity of wearing rubber shoes in the bathroom.
* Brisk walking to Church early Sunday morning can be cool so long as I’m careful not to be hit by vehicles.
* After office cocktails, meriendas or lunches are limited to up to six invitees. I have learned to stock up on styropor plates and cups; and plastic spoons and forks.
* Some friends from work sleep over; and some want to sleep over even uninvited. My bed is single and so am I. Bring your own mattress is the house rule.
* Some fourteen plastic grocery bags once filled a portion of the kitchen, ready for the next day’s out-of-town.
* One rainy evening took forty-five minutes to get to the office in a cab. I can walk it in ten minutes.
* A respiratory tract infection bolted me from work to the hospital where I stayed two days. The rest was not enough and the after effect of the hospital stay was a lurking glaucoma.
* I have collected almost 600 family and friends in Facebook and others in another network. They’re a motley of virtual friends, to cite a few: three doctors; two lawyers; four IT professionals; two bankers; and many businessmen asking for my email addy or YM.
* The newly opened Mini-Stop downstairs is a pretend liquor store, I can’t get anything healthy either and would rather walk to 7-11 a stone’s throw away.
* Pest control must be well managed by the building administration or that I maintained cleanliness to a squeak? I have never seen a mouse or they don’t get up to the 12th floor? Roaches are tiny, compared to the neighbor’s; and there’s one or two lizards that try to frighten me.
* People that have been here say the place is “cute” and yes, it is and that's the way I like it.
* One friend asked before coming in if she had to leave her shoes outside and she was serious!

Today after I went to Church, I wanted to get some plants for the condo and just like I can’t figure out where to put a small TV, I thought I should forget about having another living and breathing creature around here. There may be a lot that I’m missing, especially my children, and there may be cutting corners here and there, but here’s one place where you can never say “leave me alone” and mean it.

TEAMWORK AT ITS BEST

Two months in the making, our team outing finally pushed through mid-February this year. After running through a selection of resorts that would be suitable for the available resources we had, our Team Lead Donnah Mae decided Cabangan, Zambales was it. The beach is privately owned by an architect friend of a team mate and it turned out to be the perfect place for a team-building overnight stay, to get away from it all.

While we could not have possibly been complete as a team, majority of us joined and then again, majority of us were females. From Mandaluyong, we took a Revo in the early afternoon, driven by team mate Amie who had volunteered to harness her driving prowess to safely get the team to Zambales. I sat next to her as her co-pilot, or as an extra pair of eyes when she wanted to overtake (dear Lord!) on the right lane. We were to meet up with Ram in Floridablanca, Pampanga who had left Mandaluyong earlier and took Rolly and Nino to ride with him.

I gathered Amie had driven to Zambales before, perhaps several times, gauging that she neither had a sketch, nor a map, nor directions on how to get there. I could have driven to Subic but would have gotten lost beyond it. We took a quick stop in Subic to freshen up and blow air into the tires. In there, we had to obey traffic and safety rules, believe it or not. Subic has remnants of the old American base and driving and riding on the front seat without seatbelts is against the rules. Ram was apprehended because his wife had drawn down the window for fresh air and the traffic enforcer was quick to see she didn’t have her seatbelt on. Tailing them, Amie, Raych and I pulled the seatbelts down and pretended they were securely fastened. We got though a stern warning that only two could ride in front, oh yeah!

Arriving in Zambales around seven in the evening, tired and hungry, we found the place way inside by the beach. We couldn’t tell what was in store for us on our overnight rendezvous, but team spirit was in the works and Ram, Rolly, TL Donnah Mae and the two other guys took their turn in preparing supper. We had beef with oyster sauce and barbecue. The stuffed bangus was partially grilled for next day’s lunch. It was unfortunate but rather amusing, that a dog feasted on one of the bangus in toto and left the foil as a trail of evidence. Must have been yummy as we did all agree next day.

From the huge nipa hut, we could see the sky and tell you, it was a beautiful night when the stars shone brightly (of course) but not sufficient to see the beach front. The girl scout in me volunteered a flashlight for use to walk around. My flashlight? It was new and was sent by my daughter with a dedication that wittingly read, “so you’ll never be in the dark.”

To prepare for breakfast, Chriska cooked rice just before she dozed off, nagging us to wake her at sunrise. We surmised that she had one too many drinks and was tired from all the antics she was made to do to keep the team spirit alive. That was close to four in the morning after we had drinks by the beach around the bonfire adeptly created by the boys using, errrrrr, firewood that looked more like posts from the nipa hut. Rolly was the master scout and he even knew how to go under the tent to keep him warm in his sleep, like a frog? More like a crab that crept under the sand. Andy was the pin-up boy among the guys who would rather have photos taken of himself than being the paparazzi in the group.

Breakfast was a courtesy from Amie with Ruth as her understudy. Before breakfast, we explored the place, found a small pond outside the property with cows and goats grazing the grass. On the beach, we saw some fresh catch of fishes and if it weren’t that we didn’t have enough ice, I would have settled for talakitok. The beach was glorious in the morning upon our discovery -- close to white sand, clean, and the waves enticing. The guys moved the tents to the beach front, a very smart idea, and we took a dip or dips as you may, in the Zambales waters. I rolled to and fro on the sand, trying to get a decent swim but the waves were just too powerful. I can’t imagine what it would have done to Ruth or Amie being that they’re both light weight, white belt champions.

Lunch was my turn to cook and with LPG gone, Rolly helped set the charcoal to boil some okra, cook rice and fry the tocino. The main attraction was Ram’s barbecued ribs which recipe he refused to divulge. Joan’s stuffed bangus which she prepared with citron leaves for flavor, chopped tomatoes and onions was a revelation but should in fact be a tip of the iceberg because Joan graduated an HRM course. Still full, we managed to take turns in the bath, who knows how much sand we left in the sewerage. With Amie on the wheel, we set off our trip back to Mandaluyong at about three in the afternoon. This time with no air conditioning because the Revo couldn’t take the heat from Amie’s hell driving. We had several stops to get ice cream, snacks at convenience stores, gasoline and air for the Revo and to check on our stats, thanks for Nino’s notebook that luckily didn’t fluctuate.

With fun as secondary motivation, the team got to know each other better -- that each one’s quirks are in tolerable levels; cooking skills are a must if one is to keep happy and satisfied; and seriously, that games adult people play are in fact a big joke.

Zambales to speak of, has a lot of potentials. I looked around and the visionary in me found this place we went to can be turned into a bread and breakfast, boutique hotel of sorts. A few days after our team outing, I read in a leading broadsheet there is a huge investment pouring to develop Zambales into a tourist spot.

THE REBOUND (no real estate value)

May I begin by saying that I’m not on a rebound, not now, and besides if I ever get a nanny, it’ll be for my grandchildren and I won’t get someone as cute as Aram. Played by Justin Bartha in the movie “The Rebound,” Aram is Jewish and a college graduate who works in a coffee shop when he meets Sandy, played by Catherine Zeta-Jones.

I happened to see the movie last week while waiting for a PT doctor at Clinica Manila in Megamall. Although I remember having invited a classmate who said she could relate to the concept of cougar relationship, my choice to see this movie was well decided against “Avatar.”

Sandy moves to New York with two kids in tow, fresh out of a divorce, still reeling from visions of her ex-husband’s indiscretions, apparently, one too many. Slowly she puts her life back in order, finds Aram to baby sit her daughter and son, which works rather well till things got mushy in quite a comical way. Sandy’s son catches her and Aram doing it on the couch and that kicks off Aram’s sleeping over on a more regular basis.

What struck me in this movie, is not the plot, not even the characters. I couldn’t get my mind off Catherine’s physique -- her well defined muscles on the right spots, running to her back. In reel (at least in this movie) and real life, Catherine does the gym, she can’t do otherwise not with those muscles. She gets invited to join yoga and yeah, I can do that too, watch the movie if you want to know what I mean!

Aram and Sandy become a pair both at home and in their respective family circles. She gets pregnant and as they choose a name for the baby, Aram mentions “Iora,” a Jewish name for a girl. By golly, this movie was meant for me… a few days before I saw the movie, I got a nice evening dress from a boutique at Megamall called “Iora.”

I guess this is the climax of the movie, Sandy gets pregnant… ooops, sorry to disappoint you. She loses the baby, breaks off with Aram, climbs the corporate ladder to become the anchor in a TV news program while Aram travels the world doing what best he loves -- being with children. Five years fast forward, Sandy’s daughter graduates from school --- she looks different and if I may add, ugly --- and they by chance all meet at a restaurant. Aram now has a son and his mother, a doting granny, join Sandy and her children celebrate graduation. Their flame still aglow, Sandy and Aram hold hands under the table. Now you make up your mind at this point.

Cougar relationship in not so definite terms is a relationship between a much older woman with a very young man. Doesn’t say how many years, just that. Someone wrote about it in her column, first time I learned about it. My lawyer-friend added, it’s the woman who does the chasing. I beg your pardon!!!

Weathering Ondoy

A month and a half ago, I succumbed to the pressure of my children to set me up in a condo near my office. Let me tell you what a great relief it is to wake up two hours before shift to prepare my packed “lunch,” workout a bit, shower and get dressed. After shift, I walk home leisurely and have about four hours for household chores and to catch up either on reading or email or both, before I hit the sack.

My sons and daughters were right about moving to a condo to spare me from the hassles of living in Antipolo. It was like going to war everyday that I had to come to work. My battle gear consisted of a flashlight, an umbrella, a raincoat, a jacket, a foot towel, my trusty slippers and food contingency.

On the day Ondoy struck, my mind was preoccupied with how to end the month with better metrics, that is, what to push some more, urgh! I wasn’t paying attention to weather reports either, and who ever did take those seriously?

Many hours into sleep, I roused from bed having felt suddenly warm. I first wondered if I hadn’t turned the air conditioner on but then, my electric fan was off too. Outside my unit, there were just the emergency lights in the corners of the corridors. My neighbors were apparently prepared; some had their doors opened, some had candles lit, others had rechargeable lamps. All I had was half of a 6-inch candle and a newly bought scented one which I reluctantly had to use. And four hours more till sunrise!!

As I now keep thinking how lucky I am to be on the 12th floor of a condominium building and thankful to my children for this endowment, I owe some people prayers that they may be able to recover from the onslaught of another cruel typhoon.
I’ve had my share of typhoon-related misfortunes – wading in murky water, car submerged in the flood (somewhere in Mandaluyong), waking up into 2 inches of rain water from a leak in the ceiling (somewhere in UP Village), and such.

For the meantime, God must really know how much of a calamity I’ve been through. May I hasten to add, He keeps watch over me for sure, as He does everybody. Not that I am not a sinner, thus exempt from Ondoy’s wrath. Keep the Faith burning…. perhaps one day, we will all get used to having amphibians for cars.