Birthday surprise for a very special girl

A couple of weeks ago, we had dinner at Cookbook Kitchen*, the cafe across my sister's house. For over a year we took this place for granted although we would hear good things about it. Anton's recent post finally prompted us to try it out a couple of weeks ago. And what a pleasant experience that turned out to be! The food was delicious, the place cozy, and the service impeccable. (I was mulling over the menu and casually commented to my cousin how I would have loved a chicken version of the Pork Steak with Honey Mustard Sauce - reminiscent of Outback's Alice Springs Chicken which I love. Christy, the friendly and most efficient server overheard this and offered to change it for me. Now that's service!) :)

I was with my nieces and nephews which gave me an excuse to order almost all the desserts on the menu: the strawberry shortcake overload, Kittin's scarlet cake, the lemon poppy seed cake, and of course a chocolate cake. We were in sweet dessert heaven! My favorite had to be the scarlet cake which is a red velvet cake frosted with cream cheese and lightly dusted with cocoa powder.

Seeing that her kids were enjoying this all so much, my sister decided to hold her daughter Bea's upcoming 6th birthday party there. But because she had already told Bea that she was celebrating her birthday in school with her classmates and some spaghetti and cake, she thought to make her party in Cookbook Kitchen a surprise.

A genius of an idea! I don't know why more people don't do this. We always have surprise parties among friends, but I realized how much easier it is to pull off a surprise party for kids. For one, they are less suspicious so chances of success increase big time. It was also so much fun involving all the other kids, as they were only too eager and excited to keep it all a secret and do their part. Even the grandparents were giddy with excitement and anticipation.

Eliza, CBK's owner, helped make the party the success it was. She set up the buffet table with her specialties such as the Parmesan Crusted White Fish, Pasta Pomodoro, Mixed Greens with Honey Mustard, Chicken with Sesame Remoulade (I'm on a mission to copy this sauce!) , slices of her delicious cakes and placed plates of Parmesan Fries on the tables. She allowed us to come in early to decorate her cafe with balloons, crepe paper on the ceilings and scattered stars on the tables. She wouldn't even allow us to pick up the mess when the party was over.

Needless to say, Bea was surprised. The look on her face was priceless! First there was surprise on her face, which then beamed with a mixture of embarassment and glee. She ran around greeting all her cousins and friends, laughing and exclaiming, "Papa joked me!". It made my heart smile to see her so happy. She's such a sweet kid. :)


*Cookbook Kitchen is at 8 Socorro Fernandez St. (parallel to Shaw Blvd. behind Nissan) Mandaluyong Metro Manila; tel. (02) 724-3595

A very wet picnic at the la mesa eco park

Last Sunday, a bunch of us went to check out the La Mesa Eco Park. Despite the forecast of rain and thunderstorms, and being the stubborn people we can be, we packed our picnic baskets and filled our coolers and off we went. I can't remember the last time I went on a picnic, so I was determined to make this happen.

Just as we feared it was muddy and wet. We couldn't use the rain-drenched picnic tables so we were left no choice but to lay out our blanket on the ground of one of the covered pavillions. I had packed some pineapples, grapes, chicken and tuna sandwiches, gruyere and gouda cheese and OJ. Joey brought spicy sausages and to-die-for nutella cupcakes while Jerrie brought KFC and ingredients for s'mores.

The kids were so busy running around and exploring that they had forgotten about roasting marshmallows for the s'mores. So we did this instead back at home that evening using the Iwatani portable stove. I think everyone should do this with their kids at least once. It is such a nice bonding experience. Of course it would be so much nicer done at a campfire surrounded by nature, rather than in your porch :) but still fun!.

The La Mesa Eco Park was a very nice surprise. It is a 33 hectare park by the La Mesa Dam with amenities such as mountain bike trails, a fishing pond, boating lagoon, saltwater swimming pool, orchidarium, and camp sites. Thankfully, while we were in the park the rain slowed to a slight drizzle. So the kids still got to fish, torment the ducks, explore the trails, and row around the lagoon.

As soon as you drive through the gates of the park, you are immediately greeted by lush greenery, a variety of flora and fauna under a canopy of trees, the cheerful chirping sounds of birds and other insects and a sense of serenity one can only feel in places like a rainforest such as this one. I couldn't believe I was still in Metro Manila.

I heard a nasty rumor that there are plans to develop housing projects on this piece of paradise. (Brings to mind the song Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell). I hope this never happens. It is the only sanctuary we have in the city of this sort. An escape from the concrete jungle which everyone needs once in a while.

The park is open everyday from 8 am to 5 pm. There is an entrance fee of P50 for non-QC residents, which does not include use of amenities. The fastest way to get there is via Commonwealth Ave. past Ever Gotesco and Batasan Pambansa. Once you pass the Fairview Market on your left, keep your eye out for the entrance to East Fariview Subdivision on your right where you will enter via Winston St. Once there, follow the signs.

Bookworm-in-training

Natalia
taken by a very proud Tita Chris :-) 6/06

A little bit backpacker, a little bit flashpacker

While I am not (yet) comfortable sleeping in a hostel room with strangers, I am not beyond sharing a toilet/shower with them provided it is pretty decent and clean. I just don't know if I would be able to sleep. I would probably have my bag chained to my wrist, hugging it close to my chest, and have one eye open all night. How sad is that? I'm so jaded! But then I've never slept in a room with strangers in a strange country before, so maybe I am underestimating myself.

And though I love throwing caution to the wind and sampling street food , I also like to shell out a bit of money to have at least one meal in a nice restaurant. I like to visit museums, but I prefer doing things that will have me interacting with the locals. I like flying to my destination, but I also like moseying along a dirt road on a non-airconditioned bus if it means I see more of the countryside and how the locals live.

No, I have not done the 6-month hippie trail from India to Southeast Asia. But I envy those who have, or can. I simply cannot imagine leaving my job for that long, not yet at least. I still need the security of knowing I will have my space in the cube farm when I come home.

And though I set out to travel on a shoe string budget, I have been known to do a bit of shopping for local crafts. I don't want to go home regretting that I didn't get that buddha head or that beautiful painting by a starving local artist.

The two most common stereotypes associated with people who roam are the tourist and the traveller/backpacker. But there is also a third, lesser known type: the flashpacker. But just because you use your Lonely Planet guidebook as a pillow, sporting a 7-day stubble and a 10 gallon pack or you take packaged tours in airconditioned coaches staying in places with porters to handle your matching LV luggage doesn't mean you are one or the other. I believe it is a frame of mind, with each person's sense of adventure unique to him/her. There is no right or wrong way to travel if it is done with a respect for local culture and a thirst for discovery and adventure.

Speaking of packaged tours. As convenient as they are or seem to be, I detest them and will only submit myself to one if left with no other choice. I prefer not to follow a strict schedule and don't like to be limited with my time and experience in one place. I prefer to have my own rough itinerary which leaves me open to surprises and flexible to spontaneity. Experiences from that sort are usually the most memorable.

So what category do I fall under? I like to think that I am a flashpacker who can backpack.

10 Key Signs of a Flashpacker:

1. When you say you have the travel bug, you don't mean Delhi belly - you mean an around-the-world ticket and cash to spend.
2. Faced with the option of a 27-hour budget bus trip across Guatemala or a $250 flight, you fly.
3. The only person you share a bedroom with is your partner.
4. You earn a salary, not wages. Instead of part-time bartending, your CV features awards and achievements and runs to three pages.
5. Poverty is not a great opportunity to don a sarong, live like the locals and find inner peace, but something to be eradicated.
6. You don't spend all day emailing friends to tell how you hitch-hiked to Paris and saved $12. You're shopping on the Champs Elysees.
7. You remember when jeans sat around your waist, Belinda Carlisle was cool and Patrick Swayze was hot. You're probably a 30-something.
8. Shoestring travel means forgoing the spa treatment in Tokyo.
9. Wine comes in a bottle, not a $2 cask, and drunkenness is an indulgence, not a goal.
10. You have a keen eye for media hype, recognise this is all a joke and would cut off your own arm and eat it rather than actually call yourself a flashpacker. (see, I'm not ALL flashpacker)

So which type of traveller are you most like? This quiz might help you:

1 The bus doesn’t turn up and you’re trapped in an unfamiliar town. Do you ...
a) check your Lonely Planet guidebook to see if any local hostels will accept friendship bracelets as payment
b) rant at your travel operator, then draw up a list of people to sue
c) walk your Mastercard straight to the front desk of the nearest Hilton

2 You’re thinking of doing some trekking on your trip, but that means getting the right footwear ...
a) those army surplus boots you wore for the Duke of Edinbugh award will be fine
b) if you really do have to schlep from the hotel to the bar, your pink strappy sandals will take the strain
c) the new Extreme Arctic Trekking Sandals might be £115, but you can’t compromise on these things

3 You’ve just arrived in town, which restaurant catches your eye?
a) the one playing Basement Jaxx and offering all-you-can-eat banana pancakes
b) anywhere the tour guide takes you. I’ll have the menu in English, please
c) it’s a 20-minute cab ride away, but they say it serves the best snake soup on earth.

4 You bought it last holiday, it’s cluttering up the spare room ...
a) a didgeridoo — would you like to hear me play it?
b) a straw donkey — somehow, the irony rubbed off on the flight home
c) the deed to your 20 acres of protected equatorial rainforest

5 Most of your dinner-party travel stories start like this ...
a) “We started on the local beers, then something with no label on the bottle ...”
b) “We found it on the internet, 14 nights for the price of seven ...”
c) “We were actually the first white people the tribe had ever met ...”

Now check your answers ...
Mostly As: see you at the full-moon party — you’re pure backpacker.
Mostly Bs: there’s no shame in taking it easy — you’re all suitcase.
Mostly Cs: welcome to the new club, you’re most definitely a Flashpacker.

( I answered 2 As, 2 Cs, and 1 B, in case you were wondering :-) )

The Invitation

Exactly 4 years ago (it reads '8/02' beside my signature on the first page), I stumbled upon a little treasure of a book while browsing the shelves of Waterstones. I think it was the author's name that caught my attention at first or maybe the verses written on the cover. When I read the poem on the first 2 pages, which provides the framework for the book of the same title, I was hooked. I almost read the entire paperback right there without paying for it.

Here is the poem in its entirety. I will let it inspire you as it did me:


The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to be careful
be realistic
remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty every day.
And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest meto know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be doneto feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire
with me and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.