The Man Who Tried Everything

We are defined by the choices that we make. Here are some of mine.

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#48 ENGAGE IN COSPLAY

The year was 2016, and members of the Internet and Mobile Marketing Association of the Philippines (IMMAP) assembled to mount our yearly industry conference. Dubbed “The IMMAP DigiCon: Power of X,” the event was designed to celebrate the 10th year of our association and to ride on the popularity of youth-oriented events such as the Comic Con. That said, someone thought it might be a swell idea for the management committee of our event to dress as characters from X-Men in promoting the IMMAP Digicon to members of the industry. So there. Can you spot my character?

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#47 RECONNECT WITH A FORMER TEACHER

A few years after creating a Facebook account, I thought it would be a swell idea to locate former teachers who did not realize when we were their students how influential they had become in our lives. So I purposely sought my favorites out through Facebook--including 5 elementary school teacher, 2 music mentors, and quite a few high school and college professors. I am still in constant touch with them, most still through Facebook; but I have had the opportunity of seeing many of them face-to-face and even enjoying meals together.

The most recent was in October 2019, when a former professor invited me to attend his book launching. Dr. Nim Gonzales taught us Introduction to Communication and Communication Research. Back then (1987-1988), he was Fr. Nim of the Society of Jesus, a charismatic and most influential faculty member of our college (he convinced me to spend 4 weekends conducting a research among lepers of the Tala leprosarium--how he did it, I do not know). His book is titled, Confessions of an Ex-Jesuit; but as controversial as that sounds, it chronicles his life beyond priesthood and his journey to wellness in his new healing ministry. Dr. Nim, even through his book, continues to teach, and I am forever learning.

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#46 GET A FACIAL

I wish I had started earlier in caring for my skin. Now in my 50s, I’m scrambling to undo all the harsh stuff I did in my youth. Wish me luck!

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#45 EAT LIKE A FLORENTINE IN FLORENCE

April 2, 2018. Leilah, Palan, Barok, and I had just come from a whole day of sightseeing and were terribly famished. As we headed back to our Airbnb in Florence, we stopped by a bistro and ordered ourselves a thick juicy slab of Bistecca alla Fiorentina. Two inches thick. Seasoned with just salt and pepper. Where’s my bottle of red wine?

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#44 ENROLL IN A COOKING CLASS

As part of our joint birthday celebration in Bangkok early in 2020, Leilah, Barok and I took a quick culinary class at the Silom Thai Cooking School. We began by shopping for ingredients with our chef at a nearby market and hauling our baskets back to the school for mise en place.

Thankfully, our knife skills weren’t too shabby.

All those fragrant herbs and spices! These were going to be sumptuous meals.

After prepping our first set of ingredients, we headed to the kitchen to cook our first dish: Tom Yum Goong. Then off to the dining room we went to savor our bowls of flavorful broth.

Next up, Green Chicken Curry and Pad Thai. Did we have enough space in our bellies?

And then some cabbage cups and mango and sticky rice for dessert. What a treat! Thanks to Justin for recommending this activity. This was too much belly-busting fun.

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#43 EAT CRAB SIX WAYS

Even as a kid, I had mad skills in breaking down a cooked crab by hand. I credit mom for that dexterity. Practically every Sunday, she would treat the family to her cooking of steamed or chilli crabs, and we would all dig in enthusiastically, peeling away with our nifty fingers. And so I had mom in mind when Barok, Justin, Leilah and I decided to visit Dotonbori’s Kani Doraku for a crab meal one rainy February night.

Our multi-course meal began with boiled crab, which I downed leisurely with some Asahi, and what I felt was the star--raw snow crab leg with a smoked soy dipping sauce. I had never tried raw crab legs before and was surprised by the rich and deeply sweet flavor of the dish.

There was also steamed egg custard with crab--a subtle and almost fragile tasing cupful, and the more robust and satisfying grilled crab.

How could there not be tempura and sushi (which mom also introduced me to)? We were in Japan after all. I think all in all, mom would have agreed with this meal. Though in my mind, no one beats her cooking.

The usual suspects here. Some of the best people to travel and dine with are in this photo (obviously just outside the resto). And did I say we all celebrate our birthdays in January? 

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#42 DINE AT THE WORLD’S OLDEST RESTAURANT

Cochinillo is a traditional dish of Arevalo, with Avila and Segovia as the best places to sample Spain’s famed suckling pig. You can  imagine. therefore, how difficult it was for us (Eileen and me, Mila and Kit, and Lou and Ed) to find a restaurant serving cochinillo near our hotel in Madrid.

There was one, maybe a 20-minute walk away; but upon arriving, we learned that it had closed shop for good. We then took a taxi to another; but it seemed the driver had noted the wrong address, and brought us instead to an apartment building. Weary, we asked the driver to take us to the one place in the city where we knew suckling pig would be served--the oldest restaurant in the world, Retaurante Botin in Plaza Mayor. But could we get in without a reservation? Thankfully, we could.

It was on one of the streets in Plaza Mayor where a French cook named Jean Botín arrived in Madrid, hoping to find work. And it was along Calle Cuchilleros where he, his Asturian wife, and his wife’s nephew (Sobrino de Botin means nephew of Botin) opened an inn in 1725 and first put fire to the wooden ovens that continue to attract hungry guests until today.

And so we were soon ushered to our seats on the third floor, just next to--yes, another group of Pinoys ready to compare Spain’s cochinillo asado to our lechon back home.

While waiting for my set meal, I poured myself some house red. I eventually had to down the entire bottle as no one on our table wanted wine.

And there it was--the 15-day old pig. At least part of it. Extremely tender and juicy! Though I’m pretty sure that suckling pig in Manila can rival this. Ours is probably seasoned better. I may just be biased, of course. But certainly, this dish was worth the trouble finding it!

And to cap the meal? Vanilla ice cream with a thick, velvety chocolate sauce.

Yup, I was willing to try the Spanish suckling pig another time before heading back home. And I did--twice even, with one of them in Segovia. But that story deserves a separate post

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#41 HELP SHELTER  A FAMILY

It was in November of 2013 that Typhoon Haiyan, the country’s deadliest tropical cyclone on record, wrought havoc on the Philippines, killing close to 6500 Filipinos and causing catastrophic destruction particularly in the Visayas. And it was in 2014 that our choir, the Bukas Palad Music Ministry, mounted a full-year effort with the Tanging Yaman Foundation to raise funds through concerts that encouraged our countrymen to donate what they could to help victims of the calamity. In August of 2014, we began to witness the initial results of our endeavors. A trip to Bantayan island, which was hit heavily by the storm, allowed us to see the actual houses that were built through the funds we had generated with Tanging Yaman. We thank the Lord for using our voices to help our friends in need.

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#40 SHARE A BEER WITH DAD

The first time I did was in September of 1983. I was 17 and we were in Tokyo for my upcoming Electone competition. In our hotel room, because dad was craving for a beer, mom suggested that we check out the bar at the ground floor. We ended up sharing a Sapporo there. At a conference in Toulouse, France, participants including my dad and I were herded into a restaurant cum cellar for a glorious night of food and wine. Staggering to get back on the bus (we all were), dad whispered saying I was  the stronger drinker. That was sometime in 1993.

Today, dad and I get to share a beer (or some wine)l when we get the chance. We both have personal refrigerators in our offices, and it is not uncommon for him to come into my room with a cold can.

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#39 COLOR YOUR HAIR

I do have my share of silver strands on my head. I think they started making their appearance some five years ago. And so on occasion, especially after a disappointing day or right before a special event, I get a touch up.

I am particularly amazed at how the coloring formula, when applied, is almost pure white; but when it dries, it’s just the perfect shade of black. Who am I kidding? I’m just bored waiting in this salon chair. Oh, the perks of aging.

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#38 EXERCISE YOUR RIGHT OF SUFFRAGE

Admittedly, there were a few occasions when I had failed to vote for national elections. Once or twice I was out of the country. And three years ago, I couldn’t find my name on the voters’ list in my precinct.

For the 2016 May elections, however, I made sure my vote would be counted. That meant registering so I would be on this year’s list and applying for biometrics (oh, and not complaining about the long queues). That also meant getting to know all the candidates so I could make more informed decisions come May 9. Being a responsible citizen is always a good thing. My only complaint? The indelible ink applied on my fingernail and cuticle is not indelible. A few seconds under the tap was all it took to wash away the evidence.

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#37 SIGN UP FOR A HISTORY LESSON

During a trip to Guam in September of 2015, my nephew, Capt. Sheiloh Shane Carlos of the U.S. Army, took us to visit the War in The Pacific National Historical Park in Hagatna for a little history lesson.

Established to commemorate the bravery and sacrifice of all those involved during the three-week American recapture of the Japanese-held island of Guam, the park, with its seven units, is ideal for such activities as fishing, hiking, picnicking, snorkelling and diving. However, we were there to visit the T. Stell Newman Visitor Center, which houses the park’s state-of-the-art museum.

Named after the park’s first superintendent, the visitor center, renovated in July 2012, now features interactive displays, artifacts, videos and more to retell the Guam’s involvement in World War II and the Pacific Theater.

I could not help but note many similarities between Guam’s history and our own in the Philippines, especially because of the presence of the Spaniards, Americans, and Japanese in both.

Free to the public, the exhibit also provide an overview of the island's rich natural resources.

Dad, a certified history geek, seemed to enjoy himself immensely. He even purchased a few DVDs from the museum’s bookstore. Proceeds from sales support the National Park Service programs of the War in the Pacific National Historical Park.

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#36 WEAR SOME GUYLINER

Obviously for a costume party. And because I came as a pirate. Looking at this, I’m thinking I should have used an eyebrow pencil too. This was Christmas 2010.

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#35 SEEK OUT A LIVING ARTIST

Every Christmastime, my high school buddies and I make the effort to see each other for a satisfying meal coupled with some spirited conversation. In December of 2015, Nuts made the excellent suggestion of gathering for the holidays at a relatively newly-opened joint, Cafe Sanso, owned by Catalan modernist Juvenal Sanso, who has made the Philippines his home. I had heard that the artist often makes an appearance at the cafe grounds, and was secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of him. I felt my chances had increased significantly when we were told that our meal would be served at the artist’s gallery next door. I had my fingers crossed.

We eagerly chose our dishes from the menu. Then Nuts and Nimpha, birthday boy Gaby, Mike, Paul, Reggie and I rose to survey the artworks hanging on the gallery walls.

We gingerly switched on the lights in each section of the gallery. There were lots of prints, vibrant oils and acrylics, and a stunning mosaic--overall a collection chronicling Sanso’s progression as an artist from when he started painting after World War II. We could not resist posing with some of the famed pieces.

And then the food arrived--gambas, salpicao, paella negra--sumptuous concoctions reflecting Sanso’s Spanish heritage.

We began recounting some milestones that had happened during the year, and briefed each other on some future projects. We even cracked a few tasteless jokes. But part of me was still wondering if Sanso would make his presence felt soon.

Coffee and our dessert of crema catalana came. That was our signal to distribute some Christmas gifts, a tradition we’ve upheld since our school days.

And then lo and behold--the artist showed up, all giddy and chatty, ready to engage us and make our afternoon even more memorable. My classmates started making small talk. I just watched, starstruck.

But I managed to invite everyone for some photos by the gallery foyer, in front of an enlarged self-portrait of Sanso himself. And the artist obliged.

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#34 EXPLORE A CAVE

Spelunking. I first encountered the word when I was working on a project for the Philippine Department of Tourism in 2007. That shows you how little I know about caves. And how much of a non-athlete, non-adventurer I am. In October of 2015, however, I managed to try spelunking first hand, thanks to my sister Eileen, who insisted that we plan a trip to Sagada.

Exploring Sumaguing Cave was easily the highlight of our visit to the Mountain Province. And though surveying the cave’s gaping mouth alone could already discourage the timid, we eagerly began our descent and were soon swallowed up beneath the ground. Our hearts raced.

Led by a guide who was armed only with a kerosene lamp, Eileen, myself, my cousin Angie, and my officemates Mar and Mark crawled down several storeys of ancient rock. “The trip back up will be much faster,” our guide reassured, though I wondered how that was going to be possible. But he was descending the cave in flip-flops and did not need his hands for support. So I was sure he knew what he was talking about.

We finally reached flat ground and began to scan our surroundings. The cave walls were enchanting in the lamplight. After being instructed to remove our footwear, we embarked on the second part of our adventure.

We walked through the enormous chamber, dipping our feet into pools of cool, clear water, and gazed at the curious limestone formations all around us.

We stopped on occasion to take photos, and our guide would prop his lamp on some secure position to give us the best possible lighting.

Some areas were harder to reach than others. For those spots, caving rope was available. The third part of our adventure.

If not for the slippery surface, travelling alongside the cave walls on rope was not so bad. Though I admit having entertained the thought of falling over and gashing my head. That was not going to happen.

We crawled into tiny crevices and found ourselves waist-deep in rushing water. Thankfully, I was in dry-knits.

We eventually re-emerged in the main chamber where we took a last photo for posterity. Then it was time to begin our ascent. True enough, that seemed to be the easiest part of our spelunking adventure. Go figure.

I am a newbie at this; and while I do not intend to make spelunking a personal sport, I would surely like to give this one more shot. Where should we go next, Eileen?

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#33 GIVE THANKS

Ok, so Thanksgiving is traditionally a North American celebration to give thanks for a bountiful harvest. That we would bother to commemorate Thanksgiving in Manila like the pilgrims of Plymouth sounds preposterous--and yet, this has already become a yearly ritual for us, with the piece de resistance of our feast always being roasted turkey, no less. But hey, we have much to be thankful for (like each other, haha!), and the stories we’ve harvested are abundant enough to fill our three hours together.

Opening her doors as usual to this silly bunch is Rica with her delicate china and pretty paper napkins. We settled in the living room to await the rest of the gang.

The Mateos and I assembled the starters--Gouda, cashews and brazil nuts, autumn-colored root chips. I stuffed some dates with goat cheese and wrapped them in jamon serrano.

I also took home from the previous night some store-bought leg of ham--no match, obviously, for Palan’s home-baked dory.

Of course, as in every year, Anna took charge of the bird and the bread and celery stuffing. I think this was her best yet. Juicy. Aromatic. Savoury. Yum.

I think there were more dessert choices than protein on the buffet table. My plate (and tummy) could handle only so much. Thankfully, we had overflowing bubblies to down all that food. To Rica, Anna, Barok, Palan, Leilah, Jennie, Wilbert, Mich, Jason, Pia, Erwin and Paola--Thanks to you, thanks to us, and thanks for such happy times!

[themanwhotriedeverything]

#32 PAINT A PORTRAIT

The earliest portrait I remember drawing was in 1982. We were in elementary school and our famous art teacher, Ben-Hur Villanueva, had instructed us to make self portraits using wax crayons. It must have been then when I realized that I liked drawing eyes. In high school, when I was bored in class, I would resort to drawing our teachers’ faces, paying close attention to their eyes and doing horribly with noses. Sometime also in high school, my dad gifted me with one of my favorite presents ever–a box of Rembrandt soft chalk pastels, which he brought home from a trip to Europe. I had never worked with chalk before, and was eager to get my hands dirty.

During a visit to my sister Eileen’s place in San Francisco (before she and my brother-in-law moved to Florida), I took a photo of this chalk portrait I had done for my nephew Shane. Maybe I should have photographed all three drawings I made for her family (there is one of my niece Selene, and a family portrait of all four of them, all in chalk); they are a reminder of things I love to do but have not found the time to pursue. This portrait was done in 1992. I may just dust off my box of soft pastels one day soon. Believe it or not, some of the sticks are still alive.