SuTuKil In Parr't

WARNING: The crappy images might be disturbing. I just used my outdated phone camera.

Su-Tu-Kil, from the right in clockwise order.

I know, the title sounds like a grotesque thriller movie in French. Lol. I blame the contraction, clearly helped by the apostrophe. 

SuTuKil actually refers to a Visayan term for the fresh fish (and other seafood) being cooked/prepared in three ways. Su-Tu-Kil or Sugba, Tuwa, Kilaw simply translates in English as fish (and other seafood) being grilled, made into soup, or eaten raw (prepared like ceviche with little variation in the citrus used, either local lime [biasong] or local lemon [kalamansi], mix with other spices [ginger, onion, tomato] and vinegar). It does not mean though that you need to have the three dishes in one meal. They are just the more popular and easier way of preparing fresh fish and seafood. The operative word, by the way, is fresh.

Parr't is not French (I came across an article that also explains this). Like Bai/Bay (pronounced as by), Part/Parrt is another term that locals use to call each other, regardless of gender and whether you are friends or not. 

My parents, when they come to the city for a visit or for some important engagements, like to go to Parr’t Ebelle Tinola to have seafood for lunch, usually on the day they arrive. They live in another island, surrounded by the sea and frequently have fresh seafood from local fishermen. But the fishes (or squid and the like) from there are of smaller sizes, while the ones served in Parr’t Ebelle Tinola are cuts from gigantic tunas.

The place is very accessible by public transportation (jeepneys and taxis) since it is near SM City Cebu. It also has parking area for private vehicles.

Grilling area.

Dining al fresco.

Dining in AC room.

SuTuKil kind of restaurants are abundant in Cebu (city and province). The dining experience calls for a plate or more of rice, by the way. It's a Filipino thing-y, the rice I meant...something we couldn't live without.

Self-talk By The Girl Who Feels Meh

Didn't you wish getting over was just as easy as changing one's clothes?

It's so f**king damn hard. It's so damn harder when you fell in love deeply because you allowed yourself to get in the sh*t deeper.

If you had it easy, the loss wouldn't be as painful. And won't be worth remembering. And wouldn't be as life-changing. And you wouldn't know how beautiful love is. The beauty and tragedy of love.

Despite of it all, never stop putting yourself out there. Life and Love can surprise you in the most awesome ways. If you believe, miracles do happen.

I think I just broke the mirror. Anyone who cares to donate?

Do You Have Standards?

EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE STANDARDS. I dare say!

James, threw the question at me in the car while on our way home. It was in reference to my singleness. He wanted to know if I am a picky person when it comes to choosing a partner. He was not the only one who asked that, but others were more blunt and very decisive that I am picky. Right. They knew better what they were talking about. And I always have to argue my point, like what I am going to do now. Lol.

You could and should not choose a partner for the sake of being in a relationship. Out of pressure, I know several people who married to get rid of the single status. If they are happy with it, fine. It's not my place to judge them. We all make different choices that suit us.

I was told I had I high standards and I was too picky. I used to agree then, to make them shut up and you know, they knew better. I already knew what I want in a relationship, in a person I want to be with. Only, I was not decided to be firm on what I want, or who I want.

They said I should lower my standards so I could get a hook up. Wait, what? After stating their opinion, that's the best suggestion they came up with. You know whenever I heard that, the first thing that came to mind was which part of me I should change in order to fit another person in my life. Second thought was, how low should I get to "soften" my high standards. My reason could not agree with it. It was wrong. My inner rebel just felt offended. Lowering my standard is like denying a part of my self to exist.

What's a standard in the first place? I bet each one has different definition of it. Everyone has different elements that define each of their standard. Just because some things work for others, they would work for the rest. It's wrong to push one's standard to others. Do I really have a high standard? I only know two elements that consist mine - love and connection. What's so high with that?

I do believe every part of a good relationship revolves with the two - one should complement with the other. I could not settle with just one. I could not settle for half-bake. I want something that is consists of everything alive. I do believe that when something is meant to be, everything just falls into place. I do believe when people are meant for each other, they do not need to lower their standards because each perfectly fit to what they're looking for, that they would accept each other for what they are and what they are not. I do believe no one should settle for something less than they deserve. I do believe everyone deserves the best.

And I want the best, according to my standard, not someone else's. I am sure I am not alone on that.

In fairness, James agreed with me. So did Alona, who was in the front seat with James.

I guess people can't help but ask questions and be concern with your life, relationship specifically. But if you explain how you want things for yourself and citing them -- and the standard they have for what they want -- as your argument, they would see things their way, instead of mine. Haha.

A Dinner With High School Friends

No better place to meet up for dinner. It simply was ^.

Last night I met my high school friends, in honor of our friend who's in the country for her vacation (she's based in California, USA). Several people were asked to join but we were down to seven, two men and five women. We had dinner in a Chinese restaurant, Majestic Restaurant (if I can get hold of the other pics, I might post an entry of the food there for In My City), in Ayala Mall.

It should have been more grand, considering we haven't seen each other for a looong time! But dinner was just fine for the small party of seven. There's been a mention of a grand celebration next year...so we'll see. I'm excited!

Meeting people you haven't seen in a long time can be dreadful in a sense that it feels like you're meeting them for the first time and you have to find some common grounds. Since we lived separate lives after our graduation, we lost touch, so to speak. There is nothing like meeting friends on regular basis in person, but we're scattered in different parts of the world. Facebook is kind of a good thing to keep in touch, be updated and set time to reconnect, I guess.

But dread was nothing compared to the excitement. After all the hi's and hello's, it's getting down to business of "how's life", "oh gawd, where are you working", "are you married"...and such and such. Lol. The most juicy part was asking about some people we knew in our high school. I would not like to label it gossiping but getting updated (lol!). And since I had not heard much about the other batch mates, I could only ask what happened to some of our friends and they were kind (nice, gracious, informative?) enough to provide more detailed accounts. There were several mentions of this and that who were married but got separated. Hearing that kind of story, no wonder anyone who's single would re-think about marriage, yours truly included. Lol.

Two questions were directed at this girl several times during dinner:

"So why are you not married yet?" This kind of question is really a must on gatherings, eh? This had a follow-up question in the car on our way home that called for a separate entry.

"Are you bulimic?" ... in reference to my w-e-i-g-h-t. And Darling, her name really, asked the question while mimicking the act of self-induced vomiting. WTF. Calling me anorexic was amusing and suggesting I'm bulimic was less so. Lol. Eating, or pretending to eat, only to force yourself to throw up after is a LOT of work, in my opinion. I threw up several times when I was drunk and it was nasty every time and they happened involuntarily (your insides just have a way of telling you're in a mess, no?), would I subject myself to voluntary torture? Naaaayyyyyyyy. With the weight being discuss all the time, one learns to be gracious about it (for some reason I can hear Alanis Morrisette's line "you learn, you live"), by doing this ---> :D ....followed by long-winded explanation. Lol.

Anyway, it was a nice dinner filled with stories and laughter. It was nice to know that however we led our lives, we could still pick up where we left off. More than the friendship, I guess that's what maturity is all about, to be in good terms with everyone you know and to stay connected for the rest of your life, if possible. THAT, is included in my definition of a GOOD LIFE.

Flowery Deal

Part-time street roamer in uniform-ripped jeans, sling bag, sneakers, loose t-shirt-I take photographs of my city, one scene at a time.

Seen near Basilica Minore Del Sto. Niño

In Memory Of My Grandmother's Third Year Death Anniversary

Three years after and the pain still lingers. Whenever this day come, I could always recall the days and the hours leading to her passing. But I also remember vividly the morning after the day she died. Morning rituals were about making her porridge, crushing her medicine tablets finely to be mixed in her water, turning her from side to side, changing her clothes or bathing her. The realization that we would never be doing that anymore was the most painful. It confirmed that she was finally gone. Then it made me realize all the things she always did that I would miss, that everything I will have from that point on were her memories.

For now, in respect to the amazing woman who helped me turned out the person I become, here are the lessons I (and my siblings) learned from her. I'll probably be doing this in installment, year after year. I still have to share the proper ways to do stuff like how to iron clothes and which parts to pay attention to, among others. Or, maybe I should write a book: The Girl In Ripped Jeans: Lessons From Matilde. Hah! Her name sounds grand, eh? :)

1. She taught us good manners and grace.
My grandmother was all about good manners and right conduct. She was stern in imposing that we should behave in public. Whenever she brought us to someone's house, it was a rule to sit still and never touch the home owner's things, unless with permission. She taught me and my siblings to be courteous to the elders, performing our customary greeting whenever and wherever we met them. Being children who were playful and committed mistakes every now and then, whether unconsciously or to test her patience, we knew when we were due for a reprimand. She managed to convey her displeasure even when we did not look at her, being guilty and all we could feel her body turning rigid, lips tightening and eyes boring holes into us. She took us anywhere with her that minding our manners in her presence became a must. Her training paid off. She and grandfather were often told how well-behaved we were. I felt them being proud of us. I knew they were proud of us because they were vocal about it. But truthfully, I was more proud of having them, helping our parents raised us and I was proud of being their granddaughter. Until now my heart still swells with pride for the legacy she left us. Something we would always be grateful for, my siblings and I.

2. She taught us to listen.
We were never allowed to interrupt in older people's conversation. She was firm that if we needed to speak we ask for permission. Since we tagged along wherever she went, and mostly she went to friends and relatives who were around her age, there was really nothing for us to do but sat still, listened with eyes darting everywhere and silently wishing for them to finish their chitchat and go home.

As we grew up, we were contributing to their mature discussion. But she taught us to listen first before we cut in for our inputs.

3. She taught us to be kind to others.
I remember my grandmother was someone whom anyone could turn to whenever they need help, money or service. When someone needed money, she lent them hers. When she had no spare cash to lend, she pawned her jewelry for them. Or when someone asked her to act as guarantor, she readily agreed. Her good reputation was some sort of assurance that the borrower would never be turned down by the lender. Her house was always open to anyone who asked for her help. Her house was always welcoming to anyone who needed warmth and food.

Not only was she compassionate to people. Her kindness extended to animals, even to dangerous creature like snakes, letting them go when she encountered them while gardening. She said "kindness begets kindness". She firmly believed that even animals could sense it.

4. She taught us to take care of family.
She was always around for anyone who needed her. She called long distance on special occasions without fail, letting us know we mattered. That was one thing we missed the most when she was gone. No more calls on our birthdays, Christmases and New Years.

She did not like us calling our siblings names (though we were just poking fun at each other). "Blood should take care of their own blood and should not shame them", she said.

5. She taught us to laugh at life.
Not that she was one cool grandmother who got along well with our playfulness. It's the other way around. My grandmother was serious in life. She was not good at making jokes nor tolerant of one thrown at her. I wished she laughed more and that's one reason for me to embrace life with joy despite the challenges that come my way.

It's Penne And Me Tonight

I was never fond of dishes with white sauce. Well, maybe except pizza. Perhaps because I can drip ketchup or hot sauce over it. I grew up having pasta with tomato sauce. Fondness for white sauce is an acquired taste. White sauce is kind of French-y; fancy, refine and a bit of "haute". It's thick and rich... and it's too fancy for this thin and poor girl right here. Hahaha, bad joke. 

Wait, did I just use the word "fancy" twice?

This was in my head for days I needed to cook it to get over with it. I knew exactly how it tasted in my head. How I should cut the bacon and cook the chicken, how to mix the cream, milk and cheese, the chopped parsley as garnish...gosh, they were so on point in my thought. I just had to try to execute it if it's going to be perfect as it should be. Guess what, except for the overcooked penne, I got the taste perfectly as I thought it to be and my sisters liked it. One even brought some to school. I'm a happy girl! :) 

But I was wondering if the chicken bits were grilled, the flavor would have been more distinguished? Maybe next time.

Cheers to Penne With Chicken and Bacon In Creamy White Sauce!

The sauce settled at the bottom. 

"Rice"

“Rice” 

by Chun Yang Hee

To you who eat a lot of rice because you are lonely,

To you who sleep a lot because you are bored,

To you who cry a lot because you are sad,

I write this down.

Chew on your feelings that are cornered

like you would chew on rice.

Anyway, life is …

something that you need to digest.

My sisters are K-Pop fanatics. K is for Korean, for your information. Since we only have one tv in the house, even if I/we don't want to, I/we have no choice but to watch with them. Lately, they were following a Korean drama with lots of eating, Let's Eat. On their last episode, they were in a restaurant and Dae-Kyoong, one of the main characters, was a food blogger. Instead of taking photos of their meal, he took a picture of the framed poem on the wall. That's the poem above.

Thanks And No Thanks To John Green

He hurt my brain. He pushed me deeper into my introspection hole.

I was trying to think of relevant topics to write, something universal that should have a huge appeal to international readers, I came up short. My topics were mediocre in my opinion, if not too sappy or condescending. Everything is seemed to be discussed in the internet, how do you discuss a topic differently. Tsk. Plus, it did not appease my concern/insecurity (lol!) when I was reading a feature article by Bill Bryson for National Graphic, "The Essense of Provence", discussing, well, Provence, France. His words were curly and colorful. I have a long way to go with my vocabulary. But wait, saying his words were curly and colorful was not giving it justice. He was very descriptive in describing Provence. The place came alive in my mind, he transported me to the place and made me experience the culture and its climate or should I say, he brought Provence to where I was sitting at the moment. Soooo...

To rest my brain, I read Looking for Alaska. Reading (another genre) to rest from reading...BAD IDEA!

The love story didn't stick, because nothing happened. The girl had to die before the romance could happen. That could have been a temporary relief, instead JG had a different idea for his reader. Though it's very realistic, I still feel cheated. Lol.

How do you get out from the labyrinth of suffering? He posed that question for the main characters' finals in their Religion subject. It's also the over-all theme of the novel. It threw me into examining my own. Which led me to answer, I can't. There is no way out if I want to live still. Death is the only way out from suffering. Death, is the ultimate nirvana.

And he's referring about man as energy. That made sense, and it's pushing me further down the dark hole, with only myself to argue or discuss with. Lol. I don't have the energy to elaborate this. It involves too much of Physics. One shit at a time.

Also, there's the idea of microcosm of microcosm of microcosm- man being an organism with all his philosophy and stuff, is a world of his own; who belongs to a family which has set of values and rules and regulations which is also a world of its own; which belongs to a society, which belongs to a country which comprises the world and, the world as microcosm of a galaxy, which is a part of a universe and a universe is a part of an infinite possibility.

I have thought of an illustration of that. But, I couldn't find a perfect illustration of a man (I swear, no pun, lol), so until then...

Wait, so if you have the time in the world, and you just spend it thinking about things, you possibly could have a grand theory about something, right?

I have the weekend for that. Ta-ta for now. Enjoy yours, folks!