26 August 2007

The 'Diva' that is Malu Fernandez


Much has been said about this travel magazine writer and her irresponsibility over her "From Boracay to Greece" article. After it was published in The Manila Standard (whose standard is now questionable) and People Asia, she has been tailed with much hostility, which I think she vehemently deserved. Blogs with her as the topic pops out in a list should one googled her name. News bear her name and indeed, she settled extended minutes of fame, or infamy for that matter, as her article draws rave reviews.

She has resigned from her post (after several hate emails and death threats), good for her. We cannot afford to have an elitist like her to be on journalism's block. I myself was indignant after reading her article. How could such a "cultured" being so rude and discriminating over fellows of the same skin? We have been hearing enumerable stories (and rallied against) of racial discrimination our OFW's endured in a foreign land. How much painful it is to have that kind of treatment from our own "kababayan".

Feeling unease all throughout, I endured reading her piece. I want to shout afterwards. I cannot let this day pass without sharing this.

Excerpts from her article:

"The week of Easter, however, was open for both of us so I said: “Pick a country!” We decided on Greece and off we went. But getting there was a bloody nightmare. To save on my ticket, I bravely took an economy class seat on Emirates as recommended by my travel agent. Ron excitedly told me to go for it – Emirates had won best economy class and some award. However I forgot that the hub was in Dubai and the majority of the OFWs (overseas Filipino workers) were stationed there. The duty-free shop was overrun with Filipino workers selling cell phones and perfume. Meanwhile, I wanted to slash my wrist at the thought of being trapped in a plane with all of them. Of course, everyone in economy class was yelled at for having overweight hand-carries. Mine was 17kg (ssshhhh!). That was all my makeup and accessories I would never risk losing if my luggage ended in the middle of the Sahara desert.While I was on the plane (where the seats were so small I had bruises on my legs), my only consolation was the entertainment on the small flat screen in front of me. But it was busted, so I heaved a sigh, popped my sleeping pills and dozed off to the sounds of gum chewing and endless yelling of “HOY! Kumusta ka na? At taga sann ka? Domestic helper ka rin ba?” Translation: “Hey there? Where are you from? Are you a domestic helper as well?” I though I had died and God had sent me to my very own private hell."

"On my way back, I had to bravely take the economy flight once more. This time I had already resigned myself to being trapped like a sardine in a sardine can with all these OFWs smelling of AXE and Charlie cologne while my Jo Malone evaporated into thin air. However, for the first time in my natural life I was elated to go back to the Philippines so I could go back to Discovery Shores in Boracay and sip a tropical drink under the fabulous hat I bought in Greece. There I was sending MMS pictures to my buddy Ron trying to entice him to come over, but I didn’t succeed. Instead, I got two other friends join me in sipping cocktails with a fabulous sunset and ocean view while planting my feet firmly on the bug-free cement flooring by the poolside of Discovery Shores.All in all, it’s been a pretty good summer. Jetting from the Aegean Sea to the Pacific may sound a bit pretentious until you wake up in economy class smelling like air freshener."

So rude and insensitive. She should strip off her being Filipino.

Minutes After Midnight



The road was silent. Aside from the squeaking tires of cars and buses that passed by, it was only the pouring rain that made a pounding ephemeral sound. By the side I was walking, waiting for anything that would take me home. My frigid body, tired of a day's, or say a night's work, badly needed a rest. Drenched, I walked and waited like forever with only a jacket and a thick, curly hair for protection from the unforgiving rain. Buses won't take notice of me. Occasional jeepneys are full, one refused to take me in upon seeing how drenched I was. Taxis that passed by have their red lights on top that signals they are not available.

I was there waiting, let alone stand, and still. I braced myself and realized, it was all worth it.

13 August 2007

Getting it on...

Just so because the suppose to be writer trapped in this frigid and slender body of mine shouts and that even an invictus needs a respite, here I am, traversing the road to the ever told kingdom of bloggers. Hear yeah!!! Hear yeah!!! Roll down the red carpet... the invictus is coming...

winks....