Dining with Hooters

There's an old sage advice that you can't judge a book just by its cover. Well, maybe they're right, from one experience I had during my sister's birthday, which is today.

May 5, 2008, Monday. I happened to visit the first Hooters restaurant in the Philippines. For those not in the know, Hooters is quite... well-known, for its food, its service, and its girls. Especially the girls.

Why, you wonder? Well, one look at their outfits, eye-catching as they may seem, says it all. What hot-blooded male wound't mind noticing how the waitress are quite blessed, for a lack of a better term? Well, assuming you're a hard-lined feminist, you'd be quite bothered to notice their various forms of dress. Scantily-clad waitresses. Males as cooks. What's not to dislike?

Apparently, the launching of said restaurant along these shores has raised a lot of eyebrows. What's Hooters without their trademark uniforms? I've been to the United States once, and haven't stepped in one of their branches. Now, here they have established one, in the Philippines, a Catholic country (or so I hear), and be amazed at the transformation. From scantily-clad to noticeably dressed to ogle at. I for one am not raising any expectations when I happened to notice these "differences". After all, if it were copied, from one shore to another, you would have seen protests outside, mostly from hard-lined feminists who denounce waitresses dressed scantily.

You get this? Hooters in the Philippines is not the same as Hooters in America. It's so well "tamed" that you notice the difference even if you're myopic. That's a harsh comment to make, don't you think?

Anyway, back to the event. As my family celebrated my sister's birthday, who's a year shy of being considered an adult by local law, I can't help but question the restaurant branch's policies regarding uniforms and services. Hooters in the Philippines is laughable, and I mean that in a bad way.

Now what to make out of all this? I've thought of some suggestions to enhance the image without raising the ire of feminists and those who are close minded to the liberation of women's clothing. Why not ditch the song and number service? Also, why not try to minimize the image of Hooters and adopt the same standards as its American counterpart? Screw the hard-liners. This is Hooters, and it's a brand that's unlike any other restaurant by the bay. Besides, it wouldn't be Hooters without some "hooters", you know.

Bring in the hooters!

Where No Carabao has Gone Before...

Originally this "field trip" was intended to be held last week on the same day that is Friday, but due to scheduling conflicts with other classes of my classmates, it was moved to this day instead.

So yeah, our Laboratory class went on a field trip to two institutions famous for their genetic research found in Nueva Ecija.

• Philippine Rice Research Institute (PhilRice)


• Philippine Carabao Center (PCC)

Both are found here, by the way.

Let me tell you that it was a long stretch from Manila, and we were inadvertently lost on the way. Since it took hours to get there, I fell asleep while the rest of the class performed mundane tasks to pass the time, as well as to keep themselves awake. When I woke up, apparently it somehow worked for them, for they fell asleep as well.

Once we got there, I was the first one eager to set foot outside the bus. The institutions, one of them being PhilRice which we visited first, were huge. Spanning hundreds of hectares of land, PhilRice aims "to sustain rice self-sufficiency and build a competitive rice economy through research, technology promotion, and policy advocacy". In other words, stave off our dependency on imported rice from other countries, and make our country self-sufficient again, just like it did in the 80's. Right now, the institution is undergoing extensive research to achieve just that. I won't go into details, by the way, of how this objective is being accomplished since it's all in their homepage. Same goes for the PCC, which aims "towards better nutrition, higher levels of income and improved general well-being of the overwhelming sector, the rural farming families... through the conservation, propagation and promotion of water buffalo as important source of milk and meat, in addition to draft power and hide".

At the end of the day, I bought some carabao milk (choco flavored) from the souvenir store found inside the PCC vicinity (which has no preservatives and thus wouldn't last for more than 5 hours) and some pastilles made from carabao's milk which can last for days).

Proof in Exploration

Now what if someone presented a proof so authentic it could disprove you widely-held belief that your lineage was not as honorable as you believe it to be?

My family and I watched National Treasure: The Book of Secrets today. While it lacked in the story depth department, its adventure outside the United States, looking for clues to the Great Book of Secrets just make up for its shortcomings.

From Wikipedia:

Five days after the end of the Civil War, John Wilkes Booth and another man, both members of the Knights of the Golden Circle, enter a tavern and approach Thomas Gates (Ben Gates' great-great grandfather). They produce a diary containing an encrypted message, and entice Thomas, a well-known puzzle solver, to decode it. Thomas recognizes the message as using the Playfair cipher and begins to translate it. While he does so, Booth leaves for Ford's Theater to assassinate President Lincoln. Thomas solves the puzzle, a clue to a treasure map, and realizes the men are still loyal to the Confederate cause and have a sinister motive for finding the treasure, unfortunately he realizes this too late. The Confederate man pulls a gun on him, threatening to shoot him if he does not hand over the diary, however he is distracted from Thomas by the chaos erupting in the bar over news of Lincoln's assassination. Thomas rips several pages from the diary and throws them in the fireplace. The second man shoots him and attempts to retrieve the pages, only succeeding in saving a small piece. The dying Thomas gasps, "The war is over," but the man disagrees, stating, "You're wrong about that, the war has only just begun," and rushes from the bar. With his final breath, Thomas tells his young son Charles, "The debt that all men pay."

Years later, Ben Gates is telling his great-great grandfather's story at a conference on Civilian Heroes to great acclaim until black market dealer Mitch Wilkinson shows one of the eighteen missing pages of John Wilkes Booth's diary, with Thomas Gates' name on it, convincing everyone that Thomas was the mastermind behind the Lincoln assassination. Ben sets out to prove the innocence of his great-great grandfather.

Also:

The following sites appear in the film:

• Mount Rushmore
• The Library of Congress
• the Paris replica of the Statue of Liberty near Grenelle Bridge
• White House
• Buckingham Palace
• Mount Vernon
• Ford's Theatre
• University of Maryland, College Park
• Custer State Park, South Dakota

As you can see, the film's popularity was already built up by its predecessor's success. Indeed, if you haven't seen it, do so, so that you can form a clear view of what really happened prior to the start of this film.

I enjoyed it, but to be honest, I'm not much of a history buff. That's my father's forte. I'm still in the period of amassing vast amounts of knowledge.

The Playing Cupid Wildcard

Well, let's just say that this relationship is more on the not-so-close side. Not even more business-like.

So anyway, I got a call from Mom asking me to come and meet the father and son tandem of what was to be a near business relationship. See, one of my cousins is being set to meet up with this bachelor of a son, who happens to be the son of the landowner of the condominium I used to reside in before the transfer. She decided that there would be a fruitful outcome to this relationship.

So we went to the Starbucks Cafe and have a delightful round of coffee, all the while watching the young couple talk, discuss, and interact with each other from the window. I can see, as well, that things could quite turn out for the better.

Then we went to tour around his estate, which was expansive, to say the least. And to think that it all started with shells.

The day ended with a night at a huge restaurant that when seen from outside, would look like some Spanish villa. It's because the building looks to be made of rocks and cement, but we all know that it's just a cover-up. There's steel beams and wooden planks supporting the building from inside.

We were bored the entire night and I couldn't have asked for a better distraction than a walk outside.

Not a Happy Year For

Currently listening to COUNTER HUNTER STAGE 2 from the Capcom Music Generation - Rockman X1~6 album.

Today would have been a Happy New Year event, if it weren't for two things.

1. It was raining hard despite the fireworks.
2. My CD Driver is busted, and now I can't watch anything new.

Though the said things are practically unrelated, they are actually true. See, this year was already forecasted to be disastrous right from the start. Don't believe me? Ask anyone out there what they think of the coming year, and they will answer in the negative. This year is the Year of the Dog, after all. Could that be true, that we will be like dogs? Nothing conclusive to give to that one, but I'm sure everyone else is wondering, "What could the New Year bring for us?"

It could have been just a myth that there is really a Happy New Year. Sarcasm never goes farther than this.

courtesy of Star Fleet Entertainment Yachts
As for the second one, well, for some unknown reason and circumstances, this came to be true. Possible overheating, overusage, or just bratty kids messing with the equipment, even under my watch. For anything else, there's the Hard Disk to look after. Good thing I stacked in a lot of manga scanlation in my laptop. Now I don't have to be bored watching colorful fireworks shoot off into the sky, maybe hitting some unsuspecting spectator in the face. But that's just me.

Well, I hope everyone's brains get a'cranking for the coming year. Have you ever thought about resolution you need to keep?

Among Herbs and Plants

So as part of our "series" of field trips, we, the Botany class, were told, by our professor nonetheless, to go to a "plant exhibit" and survey some plants there. No other details were laid to us, other than where (World Trade Center) and when (10am to 8 pm) it will be held.

So I got there, and I'm no stranger to how huge the World Trade Center is. Stalls on poultry, farm and horticulture feeds, accessories, and whatnot were on demonstration inside. And I'm not going to tell you all the details about the schedule for the various seminars. Just look it up their website.

Anyway, I got lost on the way because said exhibit had no freaking sign that says, "Plant Exihibit" so I got lost inside the maze, until one of my classmantes bumped into me. I have no idea how they knew I was one of them, but it must be the hairdo. I hadn't got a haircut in almost a week, so that must be it.

As we were trekking the building, I noticed they were as lost as I am, so I shared what I know of the supposedly "exhibit". We got some brochures from some of the stalls we went through, and finally made it out.

Just wondered where the hell the so-called "plant exhibit" is, then it hit me. It was very obvious at first, then I realized that it was outside the building all along. Wtf?

The point of the trip wasn't exactly clear, but at least I got to socialize with them, I guess.

The Day Judgment Came: Course Card Distribution Day 2007

With all the excitement I felt at being out of school for a week or so, I almost forgot it was the calm before the sotrm, that storm being the day I receive my grades for this trimester.

Frankly, I'm a bit uneasy at how my grades will turn out to be. Especially at my thesis proposal, which is on shaky ground considering that I've been reminded by my professor about its formatting as well as it lack of a substance so vital it may break or make my grade and my thesis as it is.

And so I tread through the hallways of the campus, awaiting the verdict of my hard work these past 3 months. I'm nervous, I tell you.

On a happy note, I got a 3 on my Histology class, both in the Lacture and Laboratory sessions. I felt relieved that, even after seeing the breakdown of the computation of my grades, they were more than satisfactory. Thanking my Professor on the way out of the room, I then proceeded to another venue for receiving my class card.

At the last stop, which was where I will be receiving my grades for my thesis proposal, I got a shocking note. I got a 1 for it, but it was surprisingly out of consideration of both my professor and my adviser. I was supposed to get a 0.0, which was, according to the breakdown of grades at my professor's grading sheet, only next to my name on the list. ONOES! OTZ

Thankfully, he was amiable to my fate. He kindly reminded me to rewrite my thesis proposal, including the vital section that is the Literature Review, for the next term, which is when I will be defending my thesis before a panel of professors (including my professor and my adviser). A sigh of relief excaped my mouth after that.

That's, in a nutshell, my Course Card Day.

Experiencing Victory

Worships don't have to be ceremonial, after all.

I've had my shares of church visits, dating back to my childhood years. I've always found myself yawning in the middle of the ceremony, and I wondered if it could be due to my lack of interest in the spiritual, or is it in the delivery of the Mass in my hometown.

Turns out that it would be the latter.

Why do they always have to perform it "solemly"? That's in the colonial years of this country, and don't get me started. They say it's to keep the proceedings as a holy gathering. Well, holy my ass. It makes it all the more boring, and I could guess that I'm not speaking only for myself here.

But I digress. There's this four-storey building on the outskirts of a mall. On the outside, it's surrounded by a fence, and provides parking space on two facades of its location. Also, it doesn't look like a church, but more like a conference building.

Once you step inside, though, it shows its true colors. There's an elevator to one side of the ground floor, and an pair of escalators (one going up a floor, and one going down to this floor).

In proceeding to the second floor (either way works fine), there's a door to a huge auditorium to the side. Stepping in, I was greeted with a chorus of voices singing their praises to God.

Now I ask myself, "Isn't this like those new religious groups that break away from the traditional way of celebrating Mass?" Well, your guess is as good as mine. My aunts who were with me would always nudge me to participate, but I was not one to budge in. I don't act like a sheep. But on my own volition, I had to join in their way of celebrating mass.

As the day ends, I feel... not bored. Maybe it's because of the atmosphere once I entered that auditorium, or maybe there's another reason. But one's things for sure, and it's that (as I said in the beginning of this post) worships don't have to be ceremonial, after all.

Fathers' Day: Experience With or Without Dad

So today's Fathers' Day? I remember there being a Mothers' Day, Grandparents' Day and such, but this?

I think I may have mentioned this many months ago, but there is a sad truth: Dad's not with us anymore.

I will have to strengthen my resolve, now that I have becaome the de-facto padre de familia. A heavy task to take, considering that I haven't finished college nor gotten a degree at the time.

My mother can't forgive herself. She though Dad was only jesting when he asked her, out of the blue, "What will you do if I'm not here?". What bothers me is that I haven't taken the time to express my gratitude back when he was still living the "old age" generation. All he has said to me were advises on life. For the future of me and my sibling.

He has not caught an ilness, is what I've thought. No vices. He has gone on numerous check-ups, just so that we can be assured that he's fine. I think he hasn't told us what ailment caused his sudden death, that he can't shoulder the burden anymore, because of too much stress.

... Maybe that would be the leading cause. I even saw him before he suddenly collapsed that he was panting, catching for breath.

I haven't left him ever since that day. I was at the Chapel for 3 straight days. His brothers and sister (ninong and ninang) from the States have even bothered to visit him.

Mom's all alone now, and she's in need of a spiritual pillar to lean on.

So, yeah. I'll try. I'll accept Dad's passing as a big challenge to my self-independence and self-reliability as his son.

Happy New Year, Folks!

Greetings, still here from Quezon.

Nothing much to say here, since what was a new year last year is still a new year this year. In short, not has changed much, so it seems.

There are only less fireworks being used this year, that's all.

Well, that's it.

All Drunk Out

Tonight was a rather interesting experience, to say the least. I got to be on cleaning duty to drunk... kids. Well, 2 kids and 2 teens.

...Wait, one of them is a fat bastard, so does that still count?

A drinking sesson was afoot the moment someone else told me about it. I dismissed it as a joke at first, but then... interesting smell emanating from the dining hall was a dead giveaway.

There they were, all laid down and ready to puke at any moment. I could just walk over to the said fat bastard and squeeze the living bile out of it (with the stomach as the pumphandle), but I digress). I had to save myself from the wrath of drunkards, lest I be a victim.

Afterwards, they dump me in a dark room, all alone, telling me to sleep and forget the whole thing never happened. But first impressions are unforgettable, right?

The scene will be etched in my mind, as long as I can remember it... then make fun of it afterwards.

Merry Christmas, Folks!

Happy holidays, here from Quezon!

Sorry I haven't been able to keep track of where I am or what I am doing right now, but I am out of town and away from my personal computer. So I'm just using my uncle's computer and he isn't around most of the time, so slow updates can be expected.

Enjoy your dinner, everyone!

Double Holiday

So today was unexpectedly declared a double holiday, yesterday was in observance of Bonifacio Day (in which 30 would then be a "ipit na araw"), and today, because of the appearance of Super Typhoon Reming in Metro Manila.

Oh well, now that we college student have an extended holiday, from 3 days to 4, I'm expecting a Hell Monday come next week.

Community Service in Batangas

As the last out-of-school excursion as well as a special project in our Sociology class, we wre taked to live amongst the rural brethren and survey their conditions. the answers will be tallied and submitted before the end of the term. A Community Service Project, if you will.
Surprisingly, this is not near the city proper, but in a small community by the river. Fishing in on the conversation between as well as pitching in my answers (which earned a stifled giggle from the resident due to my manner of speaking :P), Ilearned some interesting facts about the community: main livelihood is fishing, as well as small enterprising. Checked out the 2 sari-sari stores standing on the borders of teh community locale.

One unforgettable experience I had was while I was walking around the village with my fellow groupmates. Since (I think) only 2 of us carry bottled iced tea, one of the young residents (a child not younger than 6 years old) approached me from the side and pointed at the plastic bottle I have in my hand. Probably thought I'm not consuming the entire contents during my stay. I offered the bottle in good intentions to the kid, and then saw him/her running back to the other kids. A small group.
I looked to my groupmates to see them smiling, with a bit of laughter, as what I just did. Now I have no water supply for me to consume in case I need it. Fortunately, I spotted a small sari-sari store, one of those I mentioned before, selling some drinks and snacks to my other classmates. I fell in line and asked for available bottled water. They have one, much to my surprise, and handed me one. Paid it, then returned to the rest of my groupmates, happily discussing what they have already done so far.

A nice experience overall. Quite a learning experience for me, adding to my knowledge of how to survive outdoors.

Oh, and by the way, here's my sociological analysis on the excursion:

Sociological Analysis of the Bajau Community
Based on our participatory observation, and a broader perspective, we see that the Bajau community in Batangas resembles a horticultural society in structure, are at the conventional level in Kohlberg’s moral development, and are traditional in the socialization process.

Data gathered from the “sponsor family” in which we are assigned to, the structural hierarchy of the family remains traditional, with the father working outside the house, while the wife takes the position of rearing the children. Unlike what most people would think of about horticultural societies, education is not much of an obligation by most parents in this community, since their child can not attend school, because of a perceived lack of parental support and lack of self-esteem, and work for the family business instead. Also, not much focus is given on intellectual skills when being taught in schools, but on practical skills like cooking and cleaning for women, carpentry and farming for men.

One thing to take note of is that of tact, a typical trait of the Filipino culture. When they feel somewhat embarrassed, they cover it up by smiling, even if it’s only a minor mistake on either our or their part. Both males and females, but mostly females, smile more often, as we have noted in our “sponsor family”, so this would be an exception.

With limited availabilities for a job outside the home, the most preferable choices a child of a family of sea farer, as in the Bajau community, would be fishing and hunting with spears for men, and weaving, housekeeping, store management, and laundry washing for women. This shows a gender based selection of occupations a Bajau individual makes for a living.

Their impression of their way of life is normal compared to our own perception. They do not see themselves as “poor”, as in the rural society compared to its urban counterpart. Other people in the community had the same view as well, citing instances when their husbands brought food instead of money, and no one in the family was complaining about it. This shows an absence of social inequality in the Bajau family.

In the community setting, all members of the community perform their respective roles and jobs in the community, some of them earninga little extra money. Rugs, blankets, pearls (both genuine and plastic) are sold at a bargain price. People gather to participate in the communal activities like fiestas, weddings and other speical occasions. A Bajau would be assigned the title of Chieftain not only on his gender but also on his status and achievements in the community. The choice selection is limited to mostly men, reflecting a patriarchial form of succession. Even with a distinct designation, he shows humility and concern for his fellow Bajaus, just like when he was on the same status as his people.

With enough specialized people available, outside intervention, even from the city government whom the community pays their taxes to, is refused by the local citizens on cultural grounds. The Bajau community we were in was an exception. Garbage collectors were allowed to perform their duty of helping the community dispose of their household wastes. Visitors and foreigners, most of them missionaries, were allowed to enter the community grounds, giving out donations like food, clothes, and money to support the people.

Even with little observable social inqueality, gender stratification still exists. Most women’s duties are still confined in the household. They keep the house clean, take care of the children, and cook food for the family. Also, they go out of the house only to engage in conversation and telling stories with other housewives, mostly about the going-ons in their life. This conception of stratification still persists in societies like the Bajau community.