MISC ETC MISC ETC Words on a Page

MISC ETC MISC ETC

Words on a Page
the Unreliable Narrator said quite distinctly to me in the car the other day, “mommy? i want to learn how to read.”

kid’s realized there’s magic afoot and wants some of it. on this he is reliable.

Swim Lessons
the UN is taking swim lessons, and while i see much anxious chewing of his upper lip as he concentrates, he’s doing amazingly well. he now holds his breath appropriately and can dip his face into the water and retrieve shallow objects in the pool. he swims with the styrofoam noodle and assistance. he kicks and splashes like a champ.

i bought him some Thomas the Tank (grrr) swim goggles and also swim trunks. he loved wearing them both.

Tommy Smothers is No Square

we shot a brief interview with him on saturday for the doc. i’m embarrassed to say that i only had the vaguest idea about his career and when googling him the night before the interview i had my comeuppance, as he’s a dyed-in-the-wool progressive who brags, for pete’s sake, that The Smothers Brothers was too liberal and edgy and anti-Vietnam War for CBS way back in the mid-1960s. once i read that i realized i’d totally taken his shmucky “Tommy Smothers” persona at face value. he may look “square” but it inadvertently popped out in his interview that he’s an atheist and how many people unashamedly admit THAT these days? (aside from my dad, that is, who would banish organized religions if only he could do so from the living room armchair.)

so big ups to Tommy Smothers! he has a new fan.

By the Way

By the Way

our event, co-sponsored by three different community organizations devoted to the issues of filipino americans, was a huge success. we had filipinos, chinese, japanese, and european americans all gathered together. the excerpts from our doc seemed to go over well and the yo-yoers rocked the house afterwards with their demonstrations, which made me very happy.

i was delighted that a friend’s older mom won the beach cruiser bicycle we raffled off. she was happy and said it was her second-ever bicycle she’s ever won in her life–how lucky is that? i do hope she uses it in good health. it’s a hot raspberry & black paint job…i can just imagine her getting a basket for the front and noodling her way down venice beach with a little sun hat on her head.

good feedback. we just have to finish up, and bring in some more money so we can do precisely that! easier said than done.

Dear Diary

Dear Diary,
some of the things i did this past week:

tuesday: flew to chicago to do some research related to the doc.

waited 30 minutes for a cab so i could sit through a rushed 15 minute introduction to using the archive nefore they closed for the day, when i really wanted to get there right away and start digging.

had enjoyable dinner with a friend from high school (“Are You There God? It’s Me Again Curious About Menopause” is one of the books we invented in our freewheeling conversation). although it had been 90 degrees F on monday in chi-town, it promptly turned cold and rained my first and second days there. of course, lost my crummy old columbia all-weather jacket in the hotel’s restaurant having enjoyable dinner with said friend and bitched for the next 4 days about how much i disliked chicago. when no one returns my coat to the hotel’s lost and found, i assume that someone on hotel staff has stolen it.

wednesday: entered the archive 8:15 am. left at 4:15 pm. stopped for 20 minutes to gobble down pretzels, water, trans-fat laden peanut butter crackers, and a power bar for lunch.

by 5 pm was in the main chicago public library doing more digging for still photos and other nuggets.

dinner with friends. enjoyable and i find their flat midwestern accents contagious. everyone still totally knows i’m not from around these parts by the way i dress though. was it the long-sleeved skull-with-roses t-shirt?

thursday: archive, meeting with a lovely woman who has unbelievable footage dating from 1933 (!!!!) on 16 mm. back to archive. chicago public library from 5 pm – 8:30 pm. i try not to dwell too much on how setting my alarm for 6:45 am CST is actually waking up at 4:45 am PST. at least i’m not on the east coast…?

friday: better part of a morning cramming in last minute work at the archive before i go to the airport. call and thank chicago friends, acquaintances for their time. report in to my grantor program officer.

saturday: run a whole day of event-related errands accompanied by endlessly patient and loving HB and son. the Unreliable Narrator wants to be carried a lot. poor boy, both HB and i had to be away this week at overlapping times. (later i ask him if he was scared while mama and daddy were both gone. he gives an almost imperceptible nod and whispers yes. i tell him we don’t like to leave him alone with the grandparents but he was safe the whole time with them. and he was very brave when we were gone. who says there’s no price to pay in making this documentary? most of the time i try to make sure it’s me, but on occasion it does fall to my son or spouse, and i never feel good about it nor do i take it for granted.)

saturday 4-6 pm: arrive perilously close to when the actual event starts even though i’m carrying in beverages and music. hoist the UN around with me and do other things one-handed throughout the afternoon. the UN is captivated by the yo-yo players. as are all the other people in attendance.

my team, all fellow filmmakers themselves, totally rock. i am shocked and surprised at how they take care of me, letting me chat folks up and answer questions while they do all sorts of thankless, necessary, menial things willingly and wordlessly. it’s humbling, this labor they offer up so graciously. i feel so grateful to work with them all. the screening of bits-in-progress goes well–the raffle is a big hit–and people ate the donated food we put out.

at various points during the screening i lean over and my editor and i trade big smiles in the dark. if any of us had any worries or harbored secret concerns that the project could be a giant time-suck with nothing to show for it, after today i think we all feel the doc’s gonna be fine, just fine.

lots more hard work (and expense) ahead, but we have a little bit of a community pulling for us and that makes all the difference.

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I Survived Filming 4 Provinces in 7 Days

I Survived Filming 4 Provinces in 7 Days

and had no time to buy a t-shirt.

but i ate like it was going out of style. a good trip.

after easter, things went from deadly quiet to flurried, anxious activity. starting with the issue of how much cash could i access? Wonderful Long-Suffering Executive Producer-Husband wired me cash via western union. i then learned that along with failing to bring along my atm card (near-fatal mistake #1), i also had severely handicapped my ability to get cash by not having my driver’s license or other form of picture ID in addition to my passport (near-fatal mistake #2).

miracle of miracles, my friend A. was able to convince her mother to txt her friend the bank manager that it was ok, give this girl her money. i had WLSEPH wire my friend A. a second giant sum of money in case i was not able to access my stash. turned out it was a lucky thing i had both stashes, as the shoot cost more than i had originally been told. (budget overages: so what else is new in the wild woolly world of indie filmmaking? not to mention the time-honored tradition of bakhsish, or “it’s okay, relax” money. you know, bribes.) put it this way, PDIC insures accounts up to $250,000 PhP. what i was wired was at the limit of what philippine banks ensure accounts to.

If It’s Tuesday It’s Batangas

after our simple banking errand, which in the U.S. would’ve taken all of 30 minutes to complete but because it was the philippines and i was a special case with my one picture ID took 3.5 hours to complete, we were off to meet my crew. my trusty co-producer, local coordinator (but oh! so much more!), and camera and sound, driver, and PA were off and running. we had to be in batangas province, about 2.5 hours south of manila, later in the afternoon to shoot an interview with the grandson of one of my documentary’s main historical figures.

mission completed (a good interview bagged and in the can), we went to our hotel on the beach. it sounds amazing, and perhaps even was, but by the time we got there, it was dark and the air was thick with mosquitos already. plus, after talking, we determined we had an early call time: 5 am. (i think my crew of young dudes was kinda bummed to learn that call time for the week of shooting would be as early as 4 am and as late as 6 am. but never later. sorry dudes. hit the road and shoot while it’s cool, or wake up late and face 98% humidity and temps in the 90s F at 9 am? the choice is clear.)

If It’s Wednesday, It’s Lucban (Quezon)
we woke up extra early so we could double back up toward manila and pick up some lolas (grannies) who are also related to the grandson of one of the doc’s main historical figures. they were adorable. the daughter of one accompanied us as well. the three ladies were an absolute delight, and we split up the crew, shooting the grandson in one van and the lolas in another. we had our meeting carefully choreographed via txt.

text messages in the philippines are cheap: about 3 medium length sentences for 1 PhP. calls are 8PhP and up. needless to say, few people call. dey txt, & fast. i lrned 2 txt w xtreme econmy, tho ppl laffd @ my slow 1-hnded txtng. u cld tell d natives frm d odrs by how qikly dey zippd out txts using 1 thmb. u dn’t rlly need 2 mny vowls, do u?

lucban, in quezon, is a charming little town filled with entrepreneurial spirit. apparently lucban means “pomelo.” it’s known for a gorgeous holiday called pahiyas, where they decorate the entire town with colorful “kiping” or rice paper leaf tributes to san isidro, the patron saint of farmers. we were a month too early for the festival, which is a pity as i’m sure it’d be tremendously photogenic to film. but it’d also be a huge hassle to film during that time, as the town is packed with tourists from all over the philippines as well as overseas tourists.

we had another amazing shoot, made easy by the town’s picturesque qualities, the wonderful storytelling abilities of my subjects (the radovans are fabulously lively, animated, outgoing people) and the irresistible charm of a 64-year old woman doing yo-yo tricks in the middle of the street. she had quite a few tricks in her arsenal: flying saucer, walk the dog, around the world, rock the baby, scissors.

the next day we shot the lovely grotto just outside lucban. there’s a huge jesus atop a lovely hill, with all kinds of religious icons and pageantry on the way up decorating the steps. again, a well-known regional landmark.

If It’s Thursday It’s Paete
after dropping our lolas off, we went on to our town of woodcarvers. paete means “chisel” in tagalog, so i figured it’d be a likely spot to find someone to carve us a yo-yo and they did. i also noticed the many arnis masters in the area, and thought, why not try to get our filipino martial artists here? after all, it’s an interesting juxtaposition of woodcarvers and martial artists, and if anyone can credibly tell us about how the yo-yo may have been used as a weapon, these martial artists can.

turns out it was very lucky–we found these sweet arnis maestros who did exactly that. they were so happy to demonstrate their art. we, in turn, were delighted to find them.

we stayed an extra day in paete. we wanted to get the arnis masters at their freshest, and that meant meeting them in a gorgeous park by a small lake and ringed by mountains. at 6 am. which meant we were up and breakfasted by 5:30 am. this time we also brought yo-yos with us. i fussed and worried over not having the right kind of wooden yo-yos with us (the lolas walked off with the ones i had brought from america, assuming they were pasalubong, i.e., gifts, intended for them and i didn’t have the heart to snatch them back), but it turned out just fine. we had wooden ones the woodcarver had made for us and the cheap plastic ones we had the arnis masters used had the virtue of being colorful and therefore easy to film.

If It’s Friday It’s Back to Manila
we were due to fly to laoag, our northern city up in ilocos norte from manila, so we left charming little paete (where i bought many an item) and got everyone dropped off.

i forget why it took us so long to return, but it did. was it perhaps because we stopped in los banos for buko (coconut) pie? ummmmmmm delicious. hot from the oven…not what you’d think is appetizing in 90 degree-plus F heat, but trust me, heavenly.

If It’s Saturday, We Must Be Scamming Our Way Onto a Flight to Laoag, Ilocos Norte
so, um, flights to laoag from manila were cheap on cebu pacific air and my local coordinator and i agreed that a 12-hour bus ride or 10-hour driver & van ride was just not doable. so i bought 5 tix and filled in likely names of crew members. problem was, we ended up with different crew members.

so, ahem, it was with a little trepidation we waited to get our tickets at the domestic wing of ninoy aquino airport. luckily tikoy, our local coordinator (actually founder of cinemanila and an established indie filmmaker in his own right) knew everyone at the airport and bullied our way through all red tape. fortunately, he’d provided a work-around that only required a small amount of fraud dissembling.

vintar is only 8 km from laoag, and the moment we landed in laoag, tikoy proclaimed that food in ilocos norte is very good. and it was! in particular the deep orange-colored empanadas were excellent.

we shot much moving material in vintar. some of my favorite footage is that of an interview we did with a relative of the other main historical figure of my documentary. he showed us the flores farmlands that still belong to the family. we seated him under a tree perched on a sledge made of bamboo (or some other thick dried vine) that’s used to pull bales of cut sugar cane. in the background was a carabao tethered to the ground and further behind him was a haystack in a small grass-roofed shed. we had the mayor’s assistant join us and he translated from ilocano for us. it was lovely–we shot at 7 am so the day hadn’t yet heated up, and the sky was agreeably overcast.

once we returned to manila, we were off again to shoot manila exteriors and ints/exts of the manila hotel, a lovely old place built in 1912. so atmospheric. i love the baywalk, along manila bay, and we shot the giant dinosaurs and enormous coffee cup. hopefully anyone who sees that will recognize manila. certainly they’ll recognize the jeepneys.

:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::

Handel’s Messiah, Easter Sunday in Manila

Handel’s Messiah

it’s a lovely sunday morning (easter sunday, to be specific) in manila and i’m being treated to a live concert broadcast at extremely loud volume (can’t imagine what it’s like inside the church) throughout the funky little neighborhood of malate.

at first i simply thought one of the hotel staff was broadcasting the radio or playing recorded music as he trundled his cleaning cart around. i popped outside and walked along the balcony outside my room toward the source of the music. voices swelled to a crescendo and the last notes of the chorale’s song hung in the air. i looked out from the balcony near 9th floor room and saw a grey stone gothic church which had to have been the source of the music.

(it wasn’t actually malate church, the one pictured here, but very similar in how it looked.)

a woman with a twangy american accent took the microphone and began talking. i noticed that she thanked “pastor ruth” of the philippine presbyterian church in her long disquisition on thankfulness and praise for the philippine hospitality–so like southern hospitality–that she and her husband had enjoyed thus far on their trip to their sister church in manila. she had more to say and i half-listened, watching two men swim in the hotel’s swimming pool on the ground floor below. before long the singing resumed again, the chorale giving their all to Handel’s Massiah. hallelujah! hallelujah! hallelujah, amen!

in the distance from where i stood, i could see peek-a-boo views of manila bay from in between skyscrapers just west of us. amazingly, the sounds of traffic were completely stilled, so complete was the catholic observance of easter throughout my little corner of manila. the sky was a murky pale blue; the strong tropical sun shone through the gathering haze of morning air pollution and in spite of the ugliness of the concrete skyscrapers, the drabness of corrugated roofs and confetti’d clothing hanging out on lines, the morning felt new and fresh and the day to come at peace.

Eat It, You’ll Like It

Eat It, You’ll Like It

so far in manila, i’ve eaten pig face/snout/ears (pork sisig) and horribly blackened lucban longgnisa. the latter was botched due to my own incompetence at the apartment hotel’s stove. but the lucban sausage was so delicious i choked down the charred side of it (damn electric stove!) and savored the bright red part that was still okay.

last night two girlfriends took me out to a spot in pasay city where the pork bbq is very good. you eat it with green mango marinated in vinegar and sliced tomatoes and the acidity of the vinegar-and-tomato combination cuts the grease of the pork in a nice, tart manner. we also had a slightly sweet shrimp in what appeared to be a tomato-ey sauce sauteed with onions. it would be extremely hard to keep kosher in the philippines.

one friend, T, told me a little story about how seriously filipinos take their karaoke. if you get up and sing “My Way” and sing it badly, you’d better hope that no one is snockered on san miguel, because there have been incidents of the drunken disgusted getting up and shooting the off-key singer dead. apparently this has happened more than once. to the tune of “My Way,” that is.

just think how much impact this would have on American Idol. i bet sanjaya’s career would be very different.

manila is a fascinating example of urban sprawl gone even more wrong than los angeles. there are something like 13 cities within the National Capital Region, each of which is marked by a little overhead archway with a sign that tells you when you leave one and enter another. i guess each section has its own mayor as well. how anything gets done consistently across the NCR is a wonder.

we visited the lovely old Manila Hotel as part of some down-low location scouting for my doc shoot. it’s really a gem that missed being razed by the occupying japanese forces during WWII, and thank goodness for that.

the interior of the hotel is filled with intricately carved dark nara wood in an almost arabic design of repeating lattices–screens that shield one area from another, or act as the doors to the closet. the ceilings are high and barreled in in one side section, and recessed-boxed in the larger section of the main lobby. one side area leading to the bar has a reception table behind which is mounted a large 15′x 8′ color map. i asked the man behind the desk if the map had always been there. he said yes.

later as T., A., and i stood looking at the map more clearly, we realized that 1) it was color, and 2) countries were shown on it that didn’t exist in 1912 (such as iran, known as persia before 1935, and iraq, which gained independence in 1932). however, the charm of the side lobby with its giant map was such that we wanted to believe that there has indeed been a map there since 1912–just not that particular one.

400 Hundred Years in a Convent, 50 Years in Hollyw…

400 Hundred Years in a Convent, 50 Years in Hollywood

is how the philippines has famously been described, and now that i’m here i totally see it.

we drove past the mall of asia (one of the biggest in all of asia, i was informed by a proud local) and the pearly wart-like protuberances on the mall’s face gleamed above the dusty stretch of shacks in the undeveloped land between the mall and the road (roxas blvd). you could see people bathing in the roadside ditch and clothing hung to dry and children milling about even though it was mid-morning on a schoolday.

we also drove past the manila yacht club, an unassuming cement jetty where pretty little sloops were moored.

my apartment hotel suite is clean and comfortable. i grocery shopped and got a chatty porter who was quite curious about me. he trundled my groceries from the mall to my hotel as i walked alongside him. i now have food to last me through easter weekend; i shopped as if the entire town was going to shut down and i might starve in the meantime.

as i emailed to someone helping me coordinate the shoot, who has since become a friend, “as an infidel, i greatly underestimate catholicism in the philippines.” (this in reference to his information that easter is easily a month-long celebration.) his reply? quick as a flash he wrote in reply, “one week of penance and three weeks of sin.”