The Atigas!

Tinabu, husband Nelli and baby Naz surprised be by saying they were in town. Luckily enough, my Sunday was free and I was able to meet up with them at very colorful Martha's Cakes in the Fort. It was nice seeing this Singaporean based couple after so long. Baby Naz is not even two years old but she's certainly looking like she's going to have a growth spurt for a long time. This I bet is thanks to her Samoan dad! Am pretty sure she will grow up to be as wonderful as both her parents and that she will be able to eat cupcakes, a whole bunch of them with us adults very soon.

Hannah's Shower

Hannah Olivares-Navato, who we have fondly called "Manang" for the last 10 years recently had her baby shower in AzuThai Restaurant last Thursday (Aug. 15, 2008). Manang is someone I met in 1997 while I was doing my Master's in the UK. I met her through my cousin,Yael, as they were both based in London for their studies. Her nickname came about because among the three of us she was the most motherly ironic considering she is the youngest in a brood of four. She would constantly check up on us (especially after a late night out) and always made us crack up with her stories and of course, stories about other people. At some point due to her rather cynical view on life I came to describe her as the dark cloud in everyone's silver lining. Doesn't sound very flattering but it was meant in good fun and my way of giving her some cariño brutal. Recently, Manang has decided to take up motherhood and I say take up because this woman certainly made a conscious choice to take on this role whereas before it was not something she obsessed about or talked about. Seeing her pregnant filled me with delight and I can't wait to see how her little girl is going to look like and how she is going to behave. She always said that 'children are your karma' and although she espoused this as a warning to herself (since she admits she wasn't the easiest and most wholesome of wards) as a friend, having blossomed under her version of watching out for me and for all the fun and laughter we've had throughout the many meals and travels we shared (read Spain, Turkey and Greece), I think she will have a very big hearted, warm spirited and beautiful daughter indeed.

Lazy blogging

Before I get into this blog, let me take the lazy way out and just cross post all the articles that I've written, that have been published before I start with new thoughts.

Frankie and Johnny

Frankie and Johnny

Boy meets girl is always an intriguing tale. No matter the situation, it is always peppered with its share of dramatic, comic, romantic (and for the more liberated) pornographic moments. In recent years, a new kind of relationship has been more accepted and for some coveted in our country when in the past, it was very much frowned upon.
Case in point, Frankie (Francesca) and Johnny (uh..John with a ny) are in love. It is total bliss. They are a match on almost every level: mentally, spiritually and emotionally. So when Frankie finally brings Johnny home to meet her parents…the meeting almost ends in tears and a screaming match. Why? Although equal on everything under the skin, the skin part itself is…to put it literally and figuratively, worlds apart. Johnny needs a visa to enter Frankie’s country and vice versa.
Welcome to the wonderful world of interracial romance. The recent influx of movies have made a mint out of the laughable and heartfelt differences that may first repel one from the other, and eventually bring them together. Spanglish, Guess Who, got moviegoers chuckling, and relating to the uncomfortable situations posed on screen. In real life though, it isn’t all that easy. Filipinos tend to live with their parents until they’re off to get married, although for financial reasons, they may opt to stay put even after matrimony. So, (and you’ve heard it before) if you’re still under your parent’s roof, most of the time you’re also under their rules. Their “rules” though sometimes extend to their own biases about what we should do and even who you should date.
For most traditional families, the rule is “stick to your own kind”; they believe that in relationships, the less you have to get over (in other words, differences) the better the chances are for a longer lasting union. Race, of course is a BIG difference and it’s not something that for obvious reasons can be changed by any amount of therapy, plastic surgery, or exorcism. The good thing is the world does move on, and so do tastes, preferences and likes. I have come to observe that in recent years most of my sex, who are also at par with me on the social and educational food chain are showing a distinct favoring of those who hail from a different country. You’re talking change of scene? We’re talking TOTAL change of scene here. In general, if you’re an active, outspoken, outgoing female, then generally every “hotspot” has become a deadspot…so off into unexplored territory we go…
Filipino men find it a little baffling, this attraction toward the white, Latin, black or yellow man. How can these women possibly want something beyond the perfection that lies within their shores?! (Men, of course, say this as they casually flip through the scores of obviously non-Filipina, fair-skinned, light-haired voluptuous flesh in a Victoria’s Secret catalog) “It’s a fetish!” they moan as you take the magazines away. For women, it’s like the great white hope. Pico Iyer, the famous travel writer, once said ‘’Foreignness is an intoxicant…When we see people from our own community we’re particularly sensitive to all the things that are wrong with them. When we see people from another community we’re alive to what’s refreshing about them.” In our land of 76 regions, this can even apply to inter-provincial relationships.
Growing up, I was warned by my well-meaning parents to avoid going out with men who came from a once very affluent province in the south. When I started going out with someone more northern bred, I was warned by well-meaning friends it would never work out. The ironic thing is, both parties gave the same reasons why. Maybe you can ask your girlfriend or female buddies about this, I’m sure they will be more than willing to tell you. In my opinion, the main attraction most women feel when going out with a foreigner is that they can break the pretenses and the conventional rules of conduct that have bound them in their past. They can speak their mind, they can actually prioritize their career (most expatriates are here to work so they don’t mind if their partner is working too), they may learn a foreign language, and an added perk is they may have a “home” one day in another part of the world.
I may be trivializing the attraction a bit, since everyone’s story is different. Here’s a tip though, you are supposed to love a person for what sets them apart from the rest…that’s the reason (hopefully) you chose to be with her. Let her own brand of foreignness be your intoxicant, and allow yourself to be lost in it. In turn, allow her to discover just how open-minded, accepting and passionate you are about her. She will probably be a lot more patriotic.

Heat

HEAT
By Katrina A. Holigores

There is nothing more nerve wracking than being “set-up”. Blind dates can strike terror into the hearts of men and women alike. Not immune to the anticipation (sometimes excitement, sometimes dread) the dater and datee try and do as much “research” on each other as they possibly can. They leave to fate (or trusted friends) to see if chemistry will be present on the big night. Set-ups may be seen as a wonderful opportunity to fall in love forevermore, find a new friend or, show a complete stranger what a total loser you are. The pressure is on. When you ask for advice on how you should behave or act, you will normally hear “Just be yourself”. Sounds simple enough right? What do you think?

Pre-date is always the most tense, especially if one doesn’t know HOW the other looks. You’ve heard the following before “Is she hot?” “She’s really, really nice”. All of a sudden you think of what could possibly walk out that door as you pull up in front of her house and it’s almost like the A/C in your car has seized to work. Sweating is never glamourous and you feel the heat, not in a very flattering way. Another factor that may add more flame to the fire is when pulling up in front of dates residence you realize that her house is the same size as a small African village. You glance nervously at the phalanx of security guards and European cars just inside the iron gates and wish you had never agreed.

Finally, after a couple of quick sniffs at certain body parts to insure that the heat has not caused unwanted emanations you politely ask for your date. Depending on the MO of the house you either wait outside or are escorted in. Whether this is your first blind date of your fiftieth you can never be totally prepared for what’s about to happen. Maybe the best piece of advice to follow is no matter what comes out to greet you, always, always, be polite and gracious. Even if you look like a matinee idol with the body to boot, no one will be able to see past bad manners. If her father or mother (or both) come across you first, if you are seated STAND up and for God’s sake be man enough to say good evening and introduce yourself and who you are waiting for. (You never know, there could be more than one blind date occurring that night)

So date comes out and you realize (with a slowly sinking heart) that it is NOT the woman of your dreams (you just KNOW, you tell yourself) and resisting the urge to escape you greet her and escort her to your car. Common decency will alert you to walk at pace with her ( not twenty steps ahead) and to open the car door waiting for her to sit down comfortably before closing it ( LOOK before you slam it to avoid bloodshed). And off you go. Small talk in the car is a must, and it would be good if you could book dinner or drinks in a relatively quiet place that is in close proximity to her house, so the small talk doesn’t have too many uncomfortable gaps. Bear in mind to LISTEN to whatever she says, she may just say something that is interesting, funny, or psychotic.



Dinner time. Hopefully, you have taken it upon yourself to do two things: One, called your date before the night to ask her about any dietary preferences, you do not want to take an animal rights activist to the best steakhouse in town. Second you called the restaurant ahead to make reservations. During dinner if asked about what you do, try and relate your field of work to something current, ESPECIALLY if it’s a job that is not very common. Of course if you say “I’m a doctor” and she gives you a blank stare then think of her as an organ donor. When she talks about what she does, if you really don’t understand ASK. It may open up other fields of interest, or common friends. As an icebreaker you can also ask how she knew or met whoever it was who set the two of you up. Aside from listening to what she’s saying pay attention to what YOU’RE saying. There is a big difference between being arrogant and being confident about what you do. It’s also not a competition, so don’t blow up what you do in order to impress, sooner or later the truth will come out.

How the date ends is entirely up to you. Do remember that getting to know someone in a span of 2-4 hours is not really fair, we all have our good and our bad days and everyone deserves a chance. Take the heat off by being truthful and simple with your words and your actions. If you are nice and sincere she will remember it, even if you also don’t turn out to be the “One.” Remember, just because your date is not your type, she may have hot friends or relatives, who are.

City Hall

City Hall
(Love and Other Catastrophes)
Katrina A. Holigores


What is it with women and celebrations? Why does everything have to be perfect? From a simple party to a walk down the aisle everything has to be absolute magic. Most men I have come across would rather not be bothered with the frivolities of preparing for an event and would rather stay true to the age old one liner “I just want to show up.” Many a lady friend has thrown her hands up in frustration as she badgers, threatens, blackmails and crocodile tears her mate to get more “involved” in the process. To be honest, I like planning things like dinners, trips out of town, but only in terms of logistics, giving it an extra special twist is not my thing, and I can completely understand the rolling eye bit my boyfriends go through when the very mention of “What do you think about….” Comes round. There are just some things that men (and some women) don’t bother with. If you prefer ESPN to ETC. then it’s highly likely that you care about what color dress she wears, what kind of cake she’s going to buy (butter cream and fondant?) and how she’s going to seat people together. Maybe you’re one of those guys who has only two things in mind when it comes to the perfect event...beer and, lots of it.

Sounds a little harsh doesn’t it? May ring true for you, or may just need a little bit of tweaking. Of COURSE you want to get involved in the preparation, but isn’t the big day the BRIDE’S day? You whimper. (this could also apply to a barbecue, a movie date or a reunion…and you may not even be married) In short, in line with any social event that involves making decisions OTHER than logistical ones (even those may be challenging) most men would just rather “show up”. This may be too presumptuous of me but I’m pretty sure that if men had their way, their matrimonial journey would be a simple trip to city hall. That’s it, no frills, not much cash out, just a couple of signatures and you’re good to go. (Straight to the more predictable outcome of a wedding night).The thing is, gentlemen, most women equate the care, precision and “special” touches that they add to transform a mundane to marvelous fete as their love for you. Yeah really. In other words, if you’re not “WOWED” by what is prepared with you in mind, then, she thinks, you’re not “WOWED” with her either.

I know, I know, there are probably lots of able minded, highly successful, uber self assured women out there who would scoff at my seemingly simplistic equation. But I would like to challenge these women to throw the men in their life a surprise birthday or anniversary party and not go COMPLETELY out of their way to outdo the Sultan of Brunei’s party planners. Women are generally more romantic than men, that’s why just simply getting down on one knee in even the most minimal of settings and using cheesy “style mong bulok” lines such as “What are you doing for the rest of your life” STILL WORKS…and how. We women all have a little Martha Stewart (or Bree Van de Camp) eagerly awaiting a chance to shine. And when you are asked for your opinion, it’s because we want you to at least “like” something we like, even if deep inside you don’t really care. Make an effort to care, because it’s important to us. Of course, there will be times that your opinion won’t really make a difference (when a girl decides, that’s normally a done deal) but it would be nice for you to share your thoughts every now and then. (But be ready for some heat)

Am not trying to say any of this to scare you, and this is probably why a lot of men just clam up when asked to comment on this or that…they don’t want to get into a fight, and that’s completely understandable. As someone’s partner though, you do remember that you DO have a say if the particular event involves you ( especially if you’re footing the bill) and even an argument should not be viewed as a negative thing because it WILL help open up the communication lines between the two of you. You never know, she may actually see things in a different light, specifically yours. As always, any relationship is a give and take, and there are always compromises, you can go from city hall to Taj Mahal, but the wonderful thing is you will be taking this journey together. And for the most party, in harmony.

Sea of Love ( June 2005)

MANUAL JUNE 2005

SECTION: HEALTH, LOVE AND OTHER CATASTROPHES
HEAD: SEA OF LOVE
SUBHEAD: Passion can lead to obsession and pride has a way of making the best of us go a little crazy. Just ask the rabbit
COLUMN: KATRINA HOLIGORES
NO OF PAGES ALLOTTED: 1 PAGE

A long weekend and heat wave can reduce a normally hyper person used to running around (like me) to sloth and film marathons. With my usual fare of half sweet half salty popcorn, I watch as stories of people or even animated robots flit by at 24 frames per second. Romantic comedy is normally the genre of choice among my friends or whoever is willing to accompany me for 90 minutes or so, and the light sometimes sappy fare is always a welcome respite from the goings-on of our dramatic, telenovela world. In a romantic comedy, everyone is misunderstood, everyone is attractive, and everyone ends up happily ever after. Even characters that have undergone heartbreak and disappointment are rewarded with true love or at the very least, peace of mind and heart before the credits start to roll. Talk about life wanting to imitate art. How many true-to-life screenplays have we heard where romance turns man into monster?
If you have ever felt the thrill or the agony of true love then you must have also felt the true agony of disappointment and pain. Passion can lead to obsession and pride has a way of making the best of us go a little crazy. There is a fine line between fighting for the one you love, and plain old fighting. Very recently I ran into an old friend who had a rather passionate albeit ill-timed romance in her teens. Though she tried to make a clean break when things were no longer working out, her boyfriend was determined not to let her go without emotional chains attached. Threats of suicide, violence, suicide, and…yeesh, more suicide ensued. When she tried to get away he hounded her; if there had been text and email at that time then I would be afraid to imagine what would be in her inbox (can you MMS a boiled rabbit?)
Fatal Attraction, a movie starring Glenn Close and Michael Douglas, was said to have made every wayward husband quiver. Michael was married but couldn’t resist a passionate one-night stand with Glenn Close. The result was the slow scary unveiling of a woman willing to do anything to get him back. The movie depicted obsession to an extreme but there are many real stories that could easily rival that. Cut to an old headliner several years back about a jilted wife who shot her husband’s nurse when said nurse couldn’t reveal the husband’s whereabouts. The news headlined the local broadsheets for a while, but was then taken over by—another seemingly crime of passion—the suspected suicide (due to heartbreak) of a hot, young actor. The same emotion that has fueled the creation of many beautiful and memorable things can also lead to its destruction.
There is nothing wrong with passion so long as it does not result in blindness. Have you ever been in a relationship (whether business or romantic) that is on a downward spiral yet you refuse to let go? You fight for it, but, seriously, can you discern between fighting for something that is essential to your well-being and one that could lead to your mental, emotional and even spiritual demise? When you hear the word “stalker” do you shudder because you once had one, or you once were one?
Some things are just not really meant to last beyond its charted course. It’s like flogging a dead horse. For you gentlemen (and women who may be reading) if your someone says “give me space” or “I need some time” or, “ I don’t want to be with you anymore” then allow it some time to sink it. If you are married and there are kids involved, I would seriously recommend counseling…if your partner is open to it, because there is no way to force someone (without physical violence) to do something they don’t want.
I once read that “The only sin passion can commit is to be joyless.” If the object of your passion has been causing you feelings other than joy and love then it is time to let that object go. For your sake and for the sake of all the rabbits out there.

88 Minutes (May 2005)

88 minutes


Time seems to be so important to all of us. Well, maybe to some more than others. Part of my obsession in life is to always get somewhere on time, submit something on time, and basically, know the time. The greater majority of people in this country, don’t seem to value the essence of punctuality, they wear their watches for decoration, and presume that being 30 mins late for anything is normal. Fashionably late, I hope, will one day, no longer be fashionable. But this article isn’t about that, it’s about a different clock men and women are ruled by over the one strapped to their wrist.

The biological clock, yes, you have heard the term ( predominantly from the female sex) and its ticking seem to resonate so loudly in their ears that you end up getting deaf ( and cold feet ) just hearing about it. What is the biological clock exactly? Again I assume most of you are familiar with the term, but the exact meaning escapes you. Better said it may be what’s “implied” when a woman mentions the “tick tock” that don’t stop (sorry for plagiarizing a song lyric). When I was in my late 20’s the term was mentioned often, and even more so now as most of my peers are of an age where this timebomb has caused more panic than one planted in a mall can ensue.

I decided, in the celebration of all things accessible and cyber oriented, to google the term. Woah! What did I hit, about a hundred Neuroscience websites. If you are brain surgeon or a scientific genius and can explain to me the ins and outs of the…uh, suprachiasmatic nucleus (which in the brain serves as the body clocks timekeeper) do bear with me for a moment. Biological rhythmicity and the clock mechanisms that drive biological rhythms are fundamental properties of all groups of cellular life, ranging from prokaryotes ( prokar-what?) to humans. These biological clocks time specific molecular, physiological, and behavioral events to optimize their phase relationships relative to the time of day (circadian) and time of year (circannual).

Ok, MY brain hurts now. Maybe googling the term wasn’t the right way to go about it. Here then is my NON scientific and Female interpretation of what goes through most women’s mind when timekeeping. Babies. She wants to be a mother, she wants to be a healthy, happy, active one, and the older she gets, the harder, medical science has drummed into her head, that’s going to be. In many societies, women feel that the minute they hit their 30’s the childbearing years are diminishing, and for many who want kids, a subconscious PANIC ensues. All of a sudden the woman in your life needs to have ”the talk” and what happens in most men? I will say it again....PANIC.

Now gentlemen, did you actually think that you could stay away from the “talk”? It’s rare in my experience for men to think that the talk is anything but premature. “But we’ve only been going out for…years!” my friends whine. What? 2 years? 20? Here’s what I think, stop your whining and listen to what she has to say. If she mentions biological clock then cut her some slack, she has medical proof to back her claims up. If you had once viewed her as the mother of your children ( such a cheesy movie line I think) then you better get a move on too buddy. If you’re really not ready to be a husband and a father, or, just a father, then let her know why, if she asks for a deadline (read: implied ultimatum) then ask for some “Time” to think. And really, really do. If you’re not dating someone fresh out of highschool or even college, then be mature enough to take her concerns and fears into consideration.

We all need time. Time to make decisions, time to plan, time to reflect, and time to take the next step. If you have decided that yes, she is THE one who you would like to share a life and a family with ( considering these are really what you want at the present stage) then let her know. Time starts now.

And Justice For All (April 2005)

…And Justice for All

You know the clichés: What goes around, comes around. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. You reap what you sow. Enough? Let’s see their relevance in this story.
“Ten years,” my friend heaved with a sigh. “Ten years and now he won’t even look at me!”
Wait, a little background first: a couple dating exclusively since the mid-90s. Ten years of togetherness. How could it not be love? They traveled together, they shared dreams of the future, had the same expectations, enjoyed each other’s company… so what happened?
They fought. He said something nasty, she said something nastier back (gentlemen, in terms of verbal poison, the woman almost always has more venom.) He slammed the phone down and never bothered to pick it up again, despite her frantic attempts to patch things up. A week later, she spots him having dinner with new girl in tow. She approaches them in greeting (or shock.) He glances her way, and then makes a huge, obvious effort to glance away.
Ouch. Sound familiar? Could you have been a cast member in a similar scenario? I tried consoling my friend as I too was in shock, but more questions kept bubbling up in my head. I bit my tongue lest they come out. Thankfully, through inexplicable female mind reading, she started verbalizing what I had wanted to ask.
The questions flew out in a stream: You think he was already seeing her prior to the fight? Why had he said such a nasty thing to me to begin with? Why did he look the other way? Why did he ignore me?
I didn’t have any answers for her, but I was getting upset. Even though I didn’t want to add more emotion to this already charged situation, I opened my mouth and came out with probably the dumbest thing I could have said, another cliché: “Cheer up, it’s not the end of the world.”
I cringed the moment the words left my lips and I was sure it did nothing to console her. What I really wanted to say was “He ignored you because he’s a dickhead and should have the living shit kicked out of him”. Maybe it was one too many mafia-oriented shows in my DVD collection, but I was suddenly channeling Tony Soprano. Through my friend’s hurt and confusion, I could only see red.
That night, after desperately trying to stop my friend from drowning her sorrow in dessert (as she would later come to regret it) I wondered what I could possibly do to get her ex to come to his senses --- or at least impart a little “revenge” along the way. Though sorely tempted to construct a makeshift voodoo doll in his image, I decided instead to turn to the law. No, not vigilante law a la Dog, the Bounty Hunter (who by the way needs some serious sunblock) or via a lawsuit, but something more universal: the law of karma.
In Buddhist teaching, the law of karma says only this: `for every event that occurs, there will follow another event whose existence was caused by the first, and this second event will be pleasant or unpleasant according as its cause was skillful or unskillful.'
A skillful event is one that is not accompanied by craving, resistance or delusions; an unskillful event is one that is accompanied by any one of those things. Just replace skillful with positive and unskillful with negative, so, if you bring joy into one’s life, you get joy back, and if you bring hurt and pain …well, it’s self-explanatory.
Basically, whatever was going to teach him a lesson had already been set into motion. I know that I will probably never uncover the truth of what triggered my friend’s ex to treat her so callously. I am also aware that the last fight was probably a build-up of old tensions that had gone on for far too long. I also know this: that in any relationship, truth and sincerity have to prevail.
Folks, if there are problems in your relationship you have to bring them up, because your partner is not a mind reader. And should you have attempted to fix things and decided that it is indeed time to move on, the first one who should know is the one person you once said you would love forever and would never want to hurt. Whether or not you believe in karma, you would have at least been fair.
To quote from a CSI episode “The best defense is an honest life”. When you lie, cheat, lash out to hurt, you can be pretty much guaranteed that there’s going to be a snowball of those emotions coming your way.
And for those who have been on the receiving end, and cling to the notion of “Right girl, wrong time”, let me give you my own cliché: “Right girl, wrong time, is STILL the wrong girl.”
A week later my friend and I met up for lunch. She looked fine, even if there was still some hurt, but I had no doubt in my mind that she would be alright. The bloodthirst for revenge on my part had lessened seeing that the pain had in fact helped her move on. As she eyed some chocolate cake in the dessert tray, I was confident that one day she would indeed, have her just desserts. Hare Om.