Third day in Seattle, so far wala pa akong nagagala. Early this morning I went to one of the top 5 places to visit – as recommended by the magazine I found in my room – this one being the Pike Place Public Market. It’s a wet and dry market, with lots of mini-stalls and stores. I really wonder what the fuss was all about. I mean, it’s your typical palengke! Anyway, there is at least one good thing that came out of my early walk to the palengke, and that is to find a store of Seattle’s Best Coffee. Baggy brought home from Seattle a decaf version of their coffee, and it was really great. According to Lai, ang galing ng pagpapanggap niya, akala mo it’s the real version (note that it’s not real to her if it doesn’t contain caffeine, that hopeless addict.) He bought it at the airport, so it must have been more expensive there. I bought ground coffee beans for 9 dollars a pack. I think it is a real bargain. For the same content in grams, the decaf we bought at Starbucks in Japan is around about 1300 yen, or more than 10 dollars. And it didn’t even taste that good.

I am still jetlagged. Today I woke up at 5 am, and couldn’t go back to sleep anymore. I would probably adjust to the local time in a few more days, which would be just about the time when I have to go back to Japan. Perfect. That’s why it’s much harder to adjust when returning home. Bioclock is already messed up to begin with. Plus the travel time is longer. Just one of the disadvantages of living in the far east.

View of the downtown area outside my hotel room.

For the last two days I’ve been paying 9.95$ a day to access internet from my room. Yun naman pala merong complimentary wireless access dito sa lounge. Duh. The connection is pretty good. But I don’t see any AC outlets around here, so I am at the mercy of the laptop’s battery. Also, there really is a kind of privacy when accessing within the comforts of your own room. I could laugh out loud and even do a video conference with Baggy, even if he’s the only one talking, hehe. I forgot to bring the external mic for this laptop, so I couldn’t talk back. I should also have brought a webcam, I realized quite belatedly. Well, this IS the first time for me to be away from the family after a long while.

It’s another cloudy day in Seattle, so I guess I have to postpone visiting the Space Needle (one of the city’s main landmarks) for now. Tomorrow is supposed to be sunny, so I think I might be able to take a walk early in the morning and climb up the Space Needle for a bird’s eyeview of the city.

The longer I stay here, the more I don’t regret coming here alone. I mean, if Baggy and Aya came with me, what would they end up doing? Drinking coffee in Starbucks (there’s like a store in every block…hayy sobra.)? There’s really not much else to see. It’s your typical American city. It’s nice and clean, lots of high-rise buildings. I think there’s more to see on the countryside, but for that will entail both time and money. We learned our lesson in Jacksonville.

All for now.

I’ve had apprehensions about traveling alone – something which I haven’t done in a long while – just thinking about hauling my big luggage from the carousel is making my knees weak. When we travel as a family, Baggy takes care of the luggage while I look after Aya. Now, it’s just me, myself and I. I feel like a free woman, that much is true. But then again, I’m not used to being alone anymore.

We did consider going together to Seattle. But Baggy already visited Seattle last May. And according to Baggy, there aren’t really any must-see places in Seattle, unless you’re a fan of the Seattle Mariners. When we inquired about airplane tickets, we balked at the price – almost the same as the price for a trip to Florence. We decided to be practical this time (ok, this is not something we do all the time hehe).

I miss my family. I wish they were here with me. Everything I saw on the airplane reminded me of my family. I saw a girl with her parents, and she was viewing Nemo on her personal A/V system. I thought of how Aya loved doing that. Hours later, I heard the same girl crying out, probably because of being uncomfortable in her seat. Aya does that too, and it could be pretty irksome for a parent trying to catch a few winks on the plane. Irksome, too, for the rest of the passengers. I know the feeling. I felt a mixture of feelings – relief, because I am finally on my own and didn’t have to mind anyone else for a change; and sadness, because inspite of the difficulties of traveling, having your family with you makes it all worthwhile. Sure, you end up exhausted and tired beyond your wits, but exploring new territories is infinitely much more fun and memorable with your family. Take my word for it.

Some anecdotes at the airport:

– There was a bitchy Pinay at the immigration. What made me notice her was her outrageously loud voice, which became particularly louder when she was harrassing, er, interviewing this family of Pinoys. I couldn’t help but notice how bitchy she was when she was asking them questions. I heard her speak in Tagalog once, – “May dala ba kayong mga pagkain???” At one point she asked them how much money they have. I didn’t hear their replies, but she repeated her question again, this time loud enough to be heard by the rest of us standing in line. I didn’t know that asking how much money one brings into the US is part of their procedure – we all have to make declarations on a custom’s questionnaire to be handed over to the appropriate officers on our way out. Anyway, that woman was clearly enjoying her power-tripping, it probably made her day to harrass fellow Pinoys that way. Note that she wasn’t as particularly bitchy when it came to other passengers. When it was my turn, I made it a point to avoid her even if she was already available, and opted to go to another available lane. The gentleman officer was particularly polite and asked me the usual questions – what do I plan to do here, where do I intend to go, standard stuffs. I got off that lane with a feeling that I was properly served and cheerfully welcomed. Now why couldn’t everyone be treated that way? I felt sorry for the Pinoy family – it seems to me that this is their first time to visit the US, and they were treated quite rudely, by a fellow Pinoy nonetheless! Sure, we can’t expect any special treatment from our kababayans, but at the very least we deserve to be treated in a polite manner.

– While waiting for my luggage at the carousel, an officer saw me holding my passport and asked me, “Indonesia?” PILIPINAS is clearly written at the cover of my pasport. Can’t you read? I shook my head and said, “No. Philippines.” He asked, “So, do you have any meats with you? Bagoon?” I shook my head to each question and said, “I came from JAPAN. I don’t live there anymore.” Not to give up so easily, he asked again, “So do you have any curries?” It was all I could do to keep myself from laughing. Ipukpok ko kaya ang poster na dala ko sa kanya para matauhan. Porke ba Pinoy ako I will automatically sneak in forbidden items like that? Gee, thanks a lot for the stereotyping. “Bagoon” – he meant “bagoong,” of course, is particularly infamous among custom officials. This is not the first time for me to be asked if I was carrying any bagoong with me!

Seattle reminds me so much of San Francisco. I could see the bay from my room, and the roads are particularly hilly, I half-expect a cable car to come out of nowhere. Not a particularly bad day outside, too. It was cloudless and sunny outside when arrived. I got to the hotel without much fanfare and checked into my room, after spending more than eighteen hours on the road since I left our house. I was asleep at 4 pm (8 am Japan time), and promptly awoke 8 hours later at 12 midnight. My bioclock is so messed up right now. But I know that I have to adjust to the local time as soon as possible if I am to perform at my peak at the conference.

So there goes my first day. Hope to blog again in the coming days. Ciao for now.

Last month, during the "Umi no Hi" (translated as Ocean Day, I guess hehe), much to everybody’s disappointment, it rained. I doubt if anybody made it to the beach on that day. As for us, we found ourselves hitching a ride to Costco in Makuhari, Chiba. It was the first time for us to visit the place here in Japan, although I did get to visit one of its stores when I was in LA. It was a nice experience. We bought many stuffs, most of them large American sizes, and practically stuffed the van with our goodies (along with our friends’ loot, of course). I was so happy to find a large bag of tortillas and an equally large can of nacho cheese!

Well, among our loot was a preschool workbook for Aya, and interactive software CDs for kids her age. Aya couldn’t wait to try each of the CDs on the computer. The CDs contained learning tasks and games for spelling and Math, video clips, even a software for drawing! The drawing software is soo cool. A some sort of Adobe Photoshop for kids. Aya was able to use the software to create drawings on the computer. Of course, there’s no substitute for drawing on paper, especially for someone her age who’s still exploring her artistic abilities. But it’s a nice introduction to what one can do on the computer. Who knows, maybe in the future Aya will be a computer graphics animator, hehe! 🙂

Here is Aya enjoying her first scribble on the computer.

Not bad for an aspiring artist, eh? This is a closeup of the drawing Aya made.

Every summer, each public daycare in Tsukuba organizes a quaint activity called “natsu matsuri,” which means “summer festival.” Summer in Japan is marked by festivities of this type, celebrated with much pomp and fervor in practically every city and prefecture. Tsukuba’s version of natsu matsuri is held around the first week of September, with intricately designed lighted floats made of paper called “nebuta.” The public daycares hold natsu matsuri as an imitation of these summer festivals – albeit on a “kiddie scale.”

At the Takezono daycare, this year’s natsu matsuri was held last Friday, July 14. It truly was like a kids’ version of the traditional matsuri. Actually this is really the first time for me to attend the matsuri. Last year we missed this activity because we were in Singapore. The year before that, Aya was still in the 1-year old class and did not really get to participate.

Parents were advised to clothe their children with yukata (a Japanese kimono traditionally worn in summer) or happi (a robe worn by livery workers), all in the spirit of celebrating the matsuri. I didn’t want to mess with the yukata (although Aya has one) because I thought it would be too cumbersome to make her wear it. Initially I didn’t know what a “happi” was all about. I did a search on google and found my answer. I went to Akachan honpo (a children’s store nearby) and was surprised to find “happi” robes of various colors and sizes. I found one which is right for her size. It was kind of pricey (about 1300 yen, or 10$), but it would also make a nice piece of souvenir!

Unfortunately, although it was sunny and bright in the morning, right about the time when the matsuri started, it began raining heavily so the principal decided to hold the activity inside the building. What a bummer! I could see the disappointment on the children’s and parents’ faces. Anyway, the children still had their fun dancing, strutting their stuff, banging on the taiko drums and buying from the o-mise (stores).

My impressions? Honestly, I’ve never been amused by matsuris, except probably for the expensive floats and fireworks. But at the daycare’s matsuri, I saw the parents and even grandparents of almost every Japanese child taking pictures and videos of the whole event, as if it was like a grand occasion such as a wedding. As the children passed by with their floats, they waved frantically to their smiling parents, as if to say, “Hey, look at me! I’m in the parade!” I had to remember that this activity was planned with Japanese children in mind. I imagine that this is like a cultural immersion for them. And for us non-Japanese, too!

Aya, on the other hand, loved it. Like the other children, she waved frantically at me and gave me the biggest smile as she strutted in the parade with her class. She shouted “Wasshoi!” as fervently as her classmates did as they were strutting around with their omikoshi. All the children were given tickets to purchase (for free) some goodies at the stores. I made her buy her own frankfurt, bread, juice, and yo-yo omocha (toy). In two years she would be banging on the taiko drums – just imagine that! Now that’s amusing. I am watching my child grow in a different culture, an entirely different environment from the one I grew up in. I’m practically experiencing those things like a first-timer myself, just like Aya does.

Needless to say, the children at the daycare loved it. There were shouts and shrieks of laughter – signs that they thoroughly enjoyed their day. From what I heard, the children designed and worked together on their floats themselves.

Kids – truly it’s their world, we’re only in it.

Here’s Aya wearing the happi.

Omikoshi. The children chanted, “Wasshoi!” alternating with their sensei’s whistles.

Pabili po ng frankfurt! By the way, the kanji character on Aya’s happi – 祭 – means matsuri, or festival.

The only true measure of one’s scientific output is for it to be published. Publish or perish – it is so very true. As doctoral students we were pressured to publish in order to graduate. After we graduated, guess what, we are pressured all the more to publish because that’s what we are supposed to do. Got a paper published? Great, now work on another one. It’s a vicious cycle. The goal is to publish for the sake of publishing. If your work is not peer-reviewed and published in an international journal, it goes to waste. No easy way about it.

How many papers does it take to establish a career? How much of an impact factor is necessary to make a dent on the churning machinery of science? I know people who have published more than 100 papers ever since they started, nevertheless when their names are mentioned to other people, they respond, “Huh? Who?” Quality over quantity, ladies and gentlemen. Do a Bednorz-Muller or a Paul Chu, and your name will be remembered forever. An alternative is to be an adviser to a large group of students, and be a co-author in all of their papers. I personally know of a professor who had so many papers (about 500+), authored and co-authored combined, such that in order to simplify his resume, he only had to mention the number of articles published for a particular journal.

For those of us who have barely started (yes, 7 years in this treadmill is not long), we publish to stay afloat. Who know, maybe one of these days we can hit the jackpot and publish groundbreaking papers that will change the world as we know it. All it takes is one grand idea.

Oh, by the way, here’s a forthcoming article that may interest you. Online publication will be this month, hopefully. I don’t know when the printed edition will come out.

Another one down, just 1000 more to go. 😀

Ok, first let me say that I absolutely agree that parents are head-over-heels in love with their children, no matter how absolutely ridiculous they look. To parents, their children are the best looking tots in the world. So forgive me if I am too biased. Second, children do have that uncanny ability to make heads turn; just watch out the next time you meet someone walking down the street with their children or pushing a stroller. Most likely you’ll ignore the parent; most of the time your eyes will be straying to check out their kids. We all have a tendency to smile and wave at children, or even make faces at them to make them laugh.

Aya and her “takaramono,” Bea the Bear (go figure where she got the name).

Anyway, that’s how it is with Aya. You could not imagine the kind of attention she attracts, even when she was just a baby. For example, when she was about nine months, I took her to Osaka. While we were riding the Hankyu line, a group of junior high school kids were completely smitten by her. Japanese kids usually leave us alone (can you say gaijin, hello?), but with Aya, there was only so much they could do to avoid touching her cheek and blurting out, “Kawaii!” For some reason Japanese love those big eyes – “Ningyou mitai,” which means “like a doll.”

When she was only a year old, we took her with us to Italy. Well, she was this scrawny-looking one year old (she was teething, so she lost some weight then), but still she attracted a lot of attention. At the hotel where we stayed, the guy at the reception desk literally “ran” after us to look at her. He said, “Wait, wait, I want to see.” We were surprised to realize that he just wanted to get one good look at her. He said a lot of things in Italian, and while I could not really understand what he was saying, I did understand one word he said, -“Bella!” You’d think that was the only time he saw an Asian baby. Apart from this, there were also many instances when Italians we met on the street would stop and look at her, and say, “Ciao, Bella!!!” and then touch her chin or ruffle her hair. I had to restrain myself from smacking their intruding hands. Go and find other kids to pet, you! 😛

In Vienna, when Baggy and Aya were out taking a walk, out of the blue somebody asked permission to take a picture of Aya. I wasn’t with them when that happened, so I don’t know the details of that incident. We were kinda worried about a stranger taking her picture, but decided later that it was probably harmless.

In Florence, while we were taking a breather along the steps in front of the facade of the Duomo, a young lady suddenly approached us and shyly asked to take a picture of Aya. Aya does not warm up too easily to strangers, and so she promptly snubbed her. Disappointed, the lady walked back to her group. Not giving up so easily, one of the guys in her group took her camera and tried his luck. I think he took more than a few shots at Aya. He must have caught Aya with the slightest hint of a smile, so he returned quite triumphantly to the young lady with her camera. I wonder now if that picture will surface on the internet somewhere.

In most of the restaurants where we ate, we could not be left in peace by the waiters and waitresses who frequently waved to Aya, called her attention, made faces, and remarked on how “beautiful” our little girl was. At a gelato shop at Ponte Vecchio, the storeperson asked us where we came from. Hearing that we were from the Philippines, he added, “She’s beautiful.” Aya, oblivious of the ruckus, just went right on ahead eating her gelato. We smiled casually and said thanks, but deep inside we were oozing with pride.

Let’s just hope that when she grows up she would really be “bella,” unlike someone I know. Heheh!

Our little girl just turned 4. Parang kailan lang na nag-rush kami sa Shoji for the delivery, now she’s totally different from that red, bawling thing we took back home. 🙂

Our celebration for her 4th birthday is nothing fancy. Just went to a restaurant nearby, her favorite. Then we gave her a birthday cake, courtesy of the local bakery. Just for fun, we picked out an Anpanman character cake. Aya heartily ate Anpanman’s “brains.” Is it no wonder that Anpanman’s brains is nothing but sponge? Hahaha!

Anpanman cake! See that big smile on her face.

Happy birthday to our dearest one, li’l Princess Aya. You make everything worthwhile. Keep your light shining for the rest of the world. We will always be here for you.

Always proud parents,
Nanay and Tatay

Have you ever seen a red juice? Well, sure, as in “red” tomato juice, like the ones from Kagome. But a red-colored orange juice? Well, we sure haven’t seen anything like it, until we visited Italy.

Careful not to spill any on your shirt!!!

We were at this restaurant for lunch, and for Aya we ordered orange juice. When the guy brought it, we were so shocked to find bloody red juice instead of the usual orange color. We thought that the guy made a mistake, so we called him back and asked, “What is this?” The guy probably looked at us in a weird way (my back was turned, so I couldn’t see his face), and said matter-of-factly, “Orange juice!” We couldn’t contain our laughter. Wait, I told Aya, let me taste it first – we were still skeptic. I tasted it, and it did taste like the orange juice I know.

In this picture you can see Aya sipping a large wine glass with the red orange juice. Bottoms up!

I’ve got a nasty ear barotrauma that hasn’t been relieved by 1000 yawns and 1000 gulps. Plus an equally nasty cold. And a bit of a sunburn. Burned by the angry Tuscan sun.

At the entrance to Palazzo Vecchio. This David statue is an exact replica of the original one by Michaelangelo, to be found at the Accademia.

But I swear it’s all worth it, all worth seeing Florence for the first time. I’m still on Florence time, and I could feel the fatigue in every inch of my body. Florence is, simply put, a feast for the eyes. If seeing Botticelli’s La Primavera and Birth of Venus is not enough, then seeing the glorious naked body of David sculpted by Michaelangelo will surely be worth all the earaches in the world. It was a childhood dream fulfilled for me. When I was a child, I saw Daddy’s book containing pictures of paintings and sculptures of the Rennaisance masters, Raphael and Michaelangelo among them. I saw the David statue in that book, and was extremely fascinated by it. When I finally got the chance to see the original statue in the Accademia, I basked in its presence for several minutes, almost unbelieving that it was right before my eyes.

For sure I will be writing more about Florence in future blogs. I had wanted to blog while we were there – but who could possibly find the time? There was simply so much to do in so little time.

I hope to post pictures soon. Antabayanan!

About four years ago, one of my cousins, Kuya Jojo who is currently based in LA, came with his family to visit us. It was one of those rare opportunities for a family get-together. When they visited Daddy and Mommy were also staying with us in Tsukuba, so it was really a very rare chance for them to meet up with Kuya Jojo, who barely went home after residing permanently in the States. Indeed, most of my Mom’s relatives are already based in the US, so the only time we get to see them is if they go home to the Philippines (like if somebody died, how grim), or in our case, in the event that they get to visit Japan. Actually I did see most of them in 1999 when I went to LA for the first time. Our grandmother was still alive then (she died early this year, at age 93!) I practically saw all my long-lost titas and cousins, including their little tots whom I’ve never seen before. And although I’ve been back to the States a few times after that, I always ended up on the East Coast, and so far there has been no opportunity to visit the West Coast.

Anyway, about two weeks ago, Tita Bess and her hubby Tito Robert finally visited Japan. The last time my Mom saw Tita Bess was around 1993. And since my Mom has never been to the States (thanks, immigration officials!), that’s about 13 years since they last saw each other. I find it rather amusing that they will meet in Japan after all these years. What a unique convergence point. And to top it off, Lai finally arrived, fresh from Manila. We immediately took her to meet Tita Bess in Tokyo. And it did seem surreal, all of us together again, not in Tondo where we once were. Not in Manila, not in the Philippines, but in Tokyo, of all places! We went to a nice shabu-shabu tabehodai (eat-all-you-can) restaurant in Akihabara to “celebrate” our reunion.

Whenever I think of it, I am simply amazed at being an instrument in bringing people together. 🙂

With Lai and Tita Bess enjoying shabushabu in Akihabara.

My evil little sister is back. Welcome back, Lai! Kampai to us!