Denial

After a few months of denying myself anything Filipino, I have a weekend filled with nothing but Pinoy things.

Instead of taking a walk around the neighborhood today, Lola's Boy, Katscratches and I went for a walk around the Island Pacific Market Plaza in Panorama City, aka Daly City #2. As Lola's Boy was picking up Pinoy newspapers, I noticed a big poster in Goldilocks promoting a visit from Manny Pacquio, a feather weight champion boxer who will be fighting Morales, a Mexican boxer in Vegas during Vanessa's Wedding. So then and there, it was decided that we were going to come back later in the afternoon to see if we could take pictures with him, as well as have a few of our friends come out and revel in their Pinoy-ness by having their pictures taken with him. Bambu & Kiwi are apparently huge fans of Pacquio's, aka Pacman. (Not sure how formidable of a nickname that is but he's Pinoy...can't really say much else about that.)

After succumbing to the food coma brought on by lunch at Pinoy Pinay and a few hours of random house chores, we get back to Goldilocks just as Pacquio was walking out the door. I walked into the restaurant trying to look for Bambu and Kiwi but ended up losing Joe in the process. Considering his 6"1' frame, it wasn't hard to find him. This fool ended up following the crowd that was surrounding Pacquio and low and behold, Bambu & Kiwi were also part of that crowd, starting to shout out Pacquio's name. Everyone was taking pictures of him. My lovely, smart, dearest decides to get behind Pacquio while Bambu & Kiwi were taking pictures from the front. This was the first time I've ever seen Joe so star struck. Bambu & Kiwi, whom I have seen pretty cool and collected were like little school girls trying to get a hold of Pacquio's hand. AHAHAHAH! They were sooo cute! Kat, Cheryl and I were laughing hysterically at the whole thing. Lola's Boy managed to get close enough to the car so that he could bump fists with the Golden Fighter, himself. Katscratches and I were talking about taking pictures with Pacquio with signs that said, "Hi, Dad." Ah well...next time. So I don't get star struck all the time but hell, if all the people I'm with are getting into it, I guess I'll join in a little bit.

Later in the evening, we all trekked down to Carson City to attend a conference on a Philippine Studies Program, essentially an immersion program to help teach people Tagalog and be exposed to different aspects of Philippine life. I forgot we were going to a college. I also forgot that it was the first time this conference was happening. First of all, if their attempt was to get people who have never been to the program to attend it, the format needed great improvement. Joe was going to go to some of the workshops, but many of them and the attendants consisted of individuals who had already gone through the program. Big no-no when you're trying to attract people who have never been through the program or have had little to no exposure to it. Why would I want to go to an event where most people know each other already and then go to a variety show where comments are made that pertain only to the people who have gone through the program? I was willing to keep an open mind about this whole thing, considering I hadn't attended any of the workshops.

As I was sitting through the variety show, I kept thinking how we were all a product of our parents' generation. There always has to be some kind of performance related event attached to some kind of gathering, whether it be academic or not. Go figure. Each performance in the beginning was drama this, drama that. Most of the songs that were sung were slow ballads either about losing one's love or having love....da...dada...dada...dada. And, in true progressive fashion, out came the poetry readings. Lola's Boy and I joke with each other all the time when we sit through these things. We've seen so many of them, there are similar elements that are prevalent in many readings. There always has to be some kind of description of being in darkness and walking into the light, experiencing an awakening of some sort or feeling water on someone's face, washing away some kind of torment. The intonations of the voice are always the same, having that beat that sounds like many people I've heard perform live poetry. And how come I've heard hella poems about a parent sacrificing their life for their child and laying the responsiblity of carrying on "the struggles" to the child after the parent has passed. Damn those are hard challenges to take on, especially being told as a child!? I wonder what children think when they're told that. At that point, I'm sure they don't know the difference between their shoes or a new toy. All I'm saying is that there are so many similar themes that have been used in so many poems I've heard. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that but the way those themes are approached needs to be super unique for me to stand up and give a mighty ovation. I think it's just more respectable to the art that way. Absolutely no offense is meant to those who are reading this and perform poetry. I love all of you. I just think that sometimes we all get a little carried away with the emotions and don't always see how cliche our lines and themes are. I've been a victim of it, too so don't start all that head rollin'. Keep doing your thing, though because goodness knows there are way more people out there who can write better than I can.

Native Gunz were the feature of the evening, I think. Those guys are great! Why don't they have a record deal yet? Ha! It was such a stark comparison to seeing them on stage and seeing them go gaga over Pacquio. Those guys tear it up everytime they take center stage, though. I can't really say much else for their performance except that they were freakin' awesome! Thanks for letting me be a groupie for the night!

To top off our night. we decided to catch some bites at the Maynila restaruant in Carson. We were in Daly City #3, we might as well check out the digs. First we park in a lot that has a huge mural that looked like it was created by Eliseo Silva and then we hear loud ass music blasting from the restaruant. Apparently this place is open until 2am for karaoke. I was just hoping the kitchen was still open. Afte a few minutes, I knew where I was. I felt like I was sitting in a roadside restaurant in the Philippines with cold, bare floors, open air seating, and of course, listening to people sing on the karaoke machine. Except down there, I think it's called videoke. No clue as to the reason so don't ask. The food was pretty darn good especially for not having Pinoy food for quite some time. Don't know if I'll ever go back there again but it's good to know where to go when you're starving for some late night snacks.

So that was my all-thing-Pilipino Saturday. On to Sunday!