We just had a spur of the moment trip to one of the maar lakes in our province. Twin I had cabin fever since school had been mainly online this week due to the extreme heat.

I wanted to keep my teenagers from malls so the best way is to be out in nature.

Twin I was in a bed and breakfast by the lakeside, buying suman with my sis-in-law, while her twin spent the time reading. She finally discovered the joy of reading books, thank God!

I proceeded to make sketches with my pencil. I was debating if I should use ink or just go straight to watercolor.

It was a lovely afternoon. The heat was dissipating and we have been spoiled by the wonderful lakeside breeze.

A lady who was jogging approached me and asked if I was a member of any Urban Sketchers chapter. I said no and this is my first time to sketch here by this lake. She said she used to be a member when she was in Metro Manila but since transferring to our province, she hasn’t done any sketching at all. She said she hopes to see me again by this lakeside sketching.

I couldn’t finish because it was already getting dark and the falling mango flowers are making my nose runny.

The beauty of where we live now is that places like this are just a quick drive away. It’s also far from the hectic vehicular traffic of the big city. I should do landscape/urban sketching more often and take advantage of the beauty of my province.

I tried to rescue my Thai basil plant and I put it on the sill of my kitchen’s small window. My dill plants, however, are a different matter since they won’t fit in there. So here they are… Taking so much beating from the heatwave we are experiencing.

Hopefully, the occasional rainshowers we’re having will save the plants. My forest is still alive, a cooling agent in these trying times.

Our Indonesia reporter was telling me this morning about the VC and startup event he was invited to attend in Jakarta last night. He said he and another banker almost died with “so much cringe” at the level of kayabangan (arrogance) of the VC and startup guys. He said, the lower you are in the pyramid, the more yabang you are. He told his Indonesian boyfriend about this and the latter said he is correct in his observation.

The bf said: The lower the life form, the higher the yabang. The noisier, the emptier. That’s the coping mechanism of Indonesians who have no contribution to society.

Hubris. Our Indonesia reporter, who pursued a master’s degree in sociology there, said this came from the Dutch.

I reminded him that this also stemmed from the numerous barriers to social mobility put up in Indonesia. A superficial example of this is Jakarta mall operators’ refusal to make malls accessible to the masses. They refused to integrate mass transport into the equation and they only want people with cars to enter their malls, unlike in Singapore (Jurong, Clark Quay, and City Hall come to mind) and Philippines. SM and Ayala are developing malls around transport hubs or they’re making transport hubs around their malls to make it more accessible to everybody. They integrated walkways along Dela Rosa Ave from Greebelt to Makati Medical and connected it to Ayala North Exchange Mall.

He agreed. They love exclusivity.

It was only recently that Indonesian Chinese are living freely in their society. During Suharto’s time they had anti-enthnic Chinese riots. One former Indonesia reporter of ours told us about the fears their parents had, that being ethnic Chinese is enough to get you killed. She is ethnic Chinese.

I also reminded him about Indonesians’ pride over their identity (that is, the predominant Muslim identity) that is perpetuated systematically by their government. Example of this is the requirement that all corporations should register under an Indonesian name. More often than not, they have a different corporate name and trade name.

Nothing is wrong with that per se, but it shouldn’t be weaponized against other cultures who do not ascribe to the same thinking.

I told him about one thread about how these Indonesians insulted some Filipinos, saying we don’t have any identity and why don’t we change our country’s name when that was the one given to us by the colonial masters. One Pinoy in that thread said: why would we wipe out our history? We are the sum of all of those.

Yes, we don’t have one unified identity to be called Filipino as we disappear into the cultures of our host country/society. We needed to adapt. We are flexible because the harsh environment we live in here required us to be like that. We don’t have a clear identity, like the one the Indonesians often wave in our faces. We don’t have anything distinct because we are all these: the Malay, Chinese, Spanish, and American cultures mixed together to form what the Filipinos are now.

If Indonesians from lower income strata get more arrogant the lower you go, then the Filipinos who have gone abroad are more arrogant than those who chose who stay at home. These Filipinos who have gone abroad think they are high and mighty and we who are left in the country by choice or by circumstances are inferior to them.

You can see and feel that in the numerous networking events I’ve been to.

But that’s another story for another day.

Meanwhile, I’m happy to report that Tabby kitty is well now after being very sick before I left for Singapore. I was syringe-feeding her with reconstituted filled milk and giving her vitamins daily. She had flu I think because she constantly sneezed, was hot like she had a fever, and lethargic.

While I was in Singapore, Twin I continued syringe-feeding her with milk and vitamins. Twin I also made hot water bottles for her in the cat carrier where she slept with Socks. Somehow she got better and recovered from that nasty flu or whatever she got.

These days it makes me happy to see that Tabby a.k.a. Tiger is eating voraciously, especially if we give them chicken bones. They have their own kibbles that I buy from the local pet supplies shop. Kimchi and Sushi’s kibbles and wet food are bought from Lazada every month.

Black Panther a.k.a. Ninja (our little void) is hiding somewhere. He loves climbing trees.

It finally rained yesterday, saving me from the chore of watering my plants that were holding on to dear life.

I would have to start taking out the dead plants from the stairs and leave them barren for a while until we get regular rainshowers. We were warned that May would be worse and the heat index could climb further. 🥵

Yesterday’s agua de Mayo reminded me of the time when we were young, wild, and free. Every school break, we would get burnt playing all day in that vacant patch of land at the end of our esquinita, in that ghetto-esque neighborhood where we grew up, not far from where we are now.

Then when May rolled in, we waited excitedly for the first rain of the month. Agua de Mayo meant we can freely play in the rain with the blessing of my father. He was the one who told us that agua de Mayo is like the holy water as it is a blessing from heaven, hence, can cure ailments and whatnot (*folklore + Catholicism = weird beliefs).

So on the first rain of May, our friends and I would be tearing through the neighborhood, wet and wild. Since it was hot (not as hot as what we’re experiencing now), we would get passes from our parents to muck around under the rain even  after agua de Mayo. It was a magical time–growing up in the 1980s was truly a blessing now that I look back.

I feel nostalgic now. I miss those years when our routine was just to watch Saturday morning cartoons extravaganza on TV. My mom would be coming home from the wet market with farm produce, meat, fish, and some rice cakes like puto or palitaw. We would be buying taho from the ambulant vendor who roved around the neighborhood every morning. Rice cakes + taho = full until lunch.

Then off we go and play with the neighborhood kids until 6 pm. By then we would be washing up and plop in front of the TV and watch the Japanese shows like Shaider or Bioman.

On weekdays during school breaks, we would be knocking on the doors of our playmates at 8 am and God knows what scrapes we would be in for the day. There were times we would be climbing rooftops or trees to pick mangoes or santol. Or jump to other esquinitas to buy halo-halo or ice scramble, a shaved ice dessert with brown sugar simple syrup (arnibal) or other sweet syrup in multitudes of colors…

Life was so simple then. It didn’t matter that money was tight during those times. What mattered then at that time was that we would be able to play with our friends and have one peso in our pockets because that was enough to buy us an ice scramble. It didn’t matter if it was just damned too hot; as long as there was no school work, life was perfect.

Agua de Mayo. Oh, you don’t know how much core memories you have unearthed from me.

I did a media training again today. I enjoyed this training like the one I did last time since I was in my element. I think I did a good job and the trainee (a very high level person) enjoyed it as much. He said at first he thought he won’t need it given his familiarity with us but he ended up admitting that he learned so much.

Because I was driving back and forth Metro Manila yesterday and today, I ended up working until past midnight Monday and Tuesday (yesterday). So yes, it’s almost 2 am and I’m not yet asleep. Too caffeinated but no decent meal. Agggh! This is the reason why I ended up with gastrointestinal problems; decades of inconsistent or unhealthy eating habits have wreaked havoc to my system.

I also tried to catch up with a lot of emails and uploaded two stories at 1 am. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Why am I working so hard when I should be working on my Plan B?

I will do that later today. Or tomorrow. Today is a holiday and ironically, Labor Day. A day of honoring workers but here I am, slaving away for a company that doesn’t deserve my talent and dedication.

Sometimes oftentimes I just want to cat = doing catty things or not doing anything at all, which is a very catty thing.

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A global editor role has opened in another competitor, B. This time the base is in Bangkok. It does not require the applicant to know Thai; the ad says they are making Bangkok as just one of the bases.

It’s very curious indeed.

The company, R, that advertised for the position I applied for a few weeks ago is also decentralizing its editing bases from Singapore and Sydney and has chosen Philippines and NZ as two additional locations…

Now competitor B seems to be doing the same, decentralizing from Singapore, which has become much more expensive for foreigners after MoM increased the threshold for E-pass holders. For my age bracket, the new applicants’ minimum qualifying salary is SGD 11,500. If your salary is just at the threshold, you may not get renewed if your company will not bump it up further. Plus you and the company have the hurdle these requirements.

They’re really discouraging the hiring of foreigners.

It is already a hostile place for foreigners given how expensive it is now to live there.

Media companies no longer have an incentive to keep its editing team in Singapore since our industry has always functioned with remote newsrooms. That’s why my fairy gaymother friend, K, has been promoted again to handle a bigger team even though he’s still stationed in Manila. They have accepted, like the rest of the world, that Singapore is not viable anymore. It’s only my fucking company that still thinks Singapore is Southeast Asia and that I fucking need to be stationed there.

I already gave my ultimatum. If they insist on changing my contract, that’s it. Good luck finding another capable journo to lead the team who is Singaporean or PR.

Stupid.

I had a call with my APAC boss this morning to do a post-mortem analysis of the conference. She knew I was in so much stress and was exhausted last week. She then asked me, why don’t you take a holiday? That was a major event last week and you deserve a break. Our China bureau chief went to Thailand after doing the one panel session last Thursday.

Damn. Why didn’t I think of that. All I can think of was I needed to write all the leads I got because the window is so narrow.

It’s still about my job and being a good reporter. 🤦🏻‍♀️

I traveled all the way to Ortigas today and I wasn’t able to do an ambush interview because prospective interviewee got pissed with one obnoxious reporter. I tried getting close to him to ask my super duper secret question but he pretended to talk to somebody on his phone all the way to the elevator car. I no longer was able to chase him to his next meeting. 😭

Gas + toll. All the stress of having calls with my APAC boss and my manager (in the afternoon) led me to nothing.

I need a holiday.

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After trying to save one client account yesterday, I rewarded myself with another 90 min foot and body massage in Chinatown because the four working days in Singapore really sapped any semblance of life out of me.

I had my first massage when I arrived on Sunday and had another one Thursday night before I left on Friday. All I can say is, I don’t want to have a lady masseuse anymore. My tired muscles and knots are not cooperating with female therapists; they don’t have enough power to subdue my knotted muscles.

I also made sure that I get to eat at hawker centers or kopi tiam because this is the last trip to Singapore for me this year, I think. I better go for the authentic Singapore taste—the hawker food and the ambience.

I’ve almost forgotten that they don’t make spicy food tame here.

By the end of my lunch yesterday, I was profusely sweating and I simply refused to eat the red bird’s eye chilis.

And I swear this is the last time I will buy a bag here…🤦🏻‍♀️ Because I just got myself a dupe Chanel mini handbag.

Since I have a mini bag now for meetings and evening events, I had passed on to my mom one of the Coach mini bags that she has been eyeing in my collection. She was so happy when I gave it to her in its original box this morning. The next time I order again from the US, I will buy her another one, probably a pretty Kate Spade shoulder bag. Maybe during the Fourth of July sale or Black Friday.

I won’t be in Singapore any time soon so my bag and shoe shopping will stop.

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We just watched the musical production of my kids’ school—the main reason why I had to go home early. Last year I missed their graduation ceremony because I was also in Singapore, too, to moderate two panel discussions.

The end.