Matador Network's Blog, page 2155

3 Filipino habits I lost in the US

Photo: burritjoe

IT’S BEEN 6 YEARS now and I’m no longer fresh off the boat from the Philippines. I’ve traded in “ehh, ano…” for “uhm, like…” I’ve stopped taking the hands of seniors to my forehead and touching my cheeks to the cheeks of strangers I meet. No hotdogs in my sweetened spaghetti, no tabo (a water dipper) in my bathroom, and no plastic wrap for my college textbooks. I’ve lost quite a few of my Filipino habits in the process of assimilating into the lifestyle of the everyday American.

1. I have long talks with strangers.

I moved to San Francisco a few years after living in Los Angeles. I was new to American public transit and had to take the Caltrain every day. I employed all techniques taught to young, privileged girls like me in Manila to ward off the rapists, kidnappers, and thieves out and about. I’d wear earphones without an iPod and unwelcomingly opaque sunglasses. I’d always snag the seat next to a pleasant-looking lady or a fellow college student. At times, I’d even pretend to be on the phone when I felt a little unsafe while waiting by the tracks for a train.

One day, I forgot my earphones. A Caucasian man in his mid-30s asked for help with figuring out the train schedule. I remember my eyes widening, wondering why no one nearby was swooping in to save me. I thought back to Manila where there were separate trains for men and women for our public transit — this wouldn’t have happened if I was on the lady train, I thought.

Hesitantly, I answered his question out of fear that he would stab me if I ignored him. He chuckled in relief once I told him that he just had to run his finger down the timetable to know what time he’d arrive at his stop. I thought that would be it, then he went on to ask me where I was going. This is where he follows and kidnaps me, I thought. So I lied and said that I was actually getting off at the next stop and that I had to wait by the doors now.

He must have sensed my reservations. He proceeded to talk about how he was catching up with his wife and kids for a Giants game at AT&T Ball Park and how he couldn’t wait to have clam chowder bread bowls by the pier — and how I definitely needed to try those bread bowls! This must be what Americans call “small talk,” I thought to myself. I got off at my fake stop and he thanked me and told me to “Take care!”

Now, while I’m not inviting strangers I pick up off the street for brunch on a daily basis, I am at a point where upon observing a friendly-looking stranger wearing a cute pair of flats, I’ll ask her “Where’d you get those?” Bumping heads with someone in Books, Inc. while reaching for the same, obscure title will lead to a lengthy, intellectual discussion.

Overhearing tourists wondering which way the Asian Art Museum is, I’ll happily jump in to give directions, and even suggest a stroll through Yerba Buena Gardens on the way over. Though in Manila, you’ll be likely to get a smile back from a passerby, it’s not likely that you’ll string out a long conversation with someone just because you’re both wearing Giants jerseys, like in San Francisco.

2. If I want an extra helping, I don’t refuse it.

When you’re an invited guest at a dinner party in Manila and you finish your first plate, it’s customary to play a little game of “Oh no, I can’t” and “Oh please, don’t be silly. Have some more!” with the host as she tries to serve you another helping. Even if you are hankering for more chicken adobo, you are somewhat expected to play along until the second or third time she insists.

This is a game that I’ve tried to play as a guest in American home, which doesn’t usually end up with an extra serving on my plate. Instead, I’d get a respectful “Okay, then!” and the host would move on to the next guest. My American host never realized that I was just playfully refusing. When I said that I was on a diet and therefore could not possibly have had another bite, I was actually waiting for her to tell me that I was already too skinny — so skinny that I needed more mashed potatoes to fill in my scrawny, little arms.

The game ends similarly when it comes to fighting over the bill. A wealthier friend would invite me out to lunch at fancy, Mediterranean place by her house and I would just assume that she’d know that we’d either split or she’d pay, seeing as she made more money. But I’d slip my card onto the bill and tell her that “I’ve got it!” just out of habit and much to my dismay…she’d let me pay. My Filipino friends would at least attempt to start a bit of lively banter over the bill, but Americans tend to thank you and take you up on what they assume is a sincere offer.

Filipinos value a sense of propriety, which ties into the Filipino term hiya, which is our embarrassment over being too outspoken or feeling like we’re imposing ourselves on others. Americans, on the other hand, value directness. If you want something, do something about it. No sense in beating around the bush, as they say.

Being a Filipina, I came to America thinking that people knew that I was being coy and that it was impolite to tell anyone what I want directly. When an American would, god forbid, express to me exactly what they wanted to do, I was taken aback every time. Learning to be straightforward was definitely a transition that I had to make living in the US.

3. I’m happy to wait in line and even let people go ahead.

A few years after moving to San Francisco, a friend of mine visited from Manila. I decided to take her sightseeing along Market Street. We planned to take the BART there, and so I showed her how to buy a ticket at the kiosk and we walked to the platform where we waited for our train. I compared the San Francisco BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) to the MRT (Metro Manila Rapid Transit) which she and I used to ride back in Manila.

Our train to Pittsburg / Bay Point approached and started to stop, then I watched as my friend instinctively rushed over to stand directly in front of the door. There were plenty of doors opening up and there wasn’t much of a crowd to fight through. I suppose she didn’t notice that most people were standing by the sides so that commuters on the train could step off before we boarded. I tugged on her shirt and led her aside so that those commuters could do just that.

In Manila, it’s standard to fight your way through when commuting. With at least 12 million Filipinos concentrated in the urban metropolis of Metro Manila, it feels logical to fight for yourself in every situation. Understandably, when taking the MRT or even entering a mall, crowds can set you off into a kind of survival mode.

I cleared up the confusion for my dear Filipina friend, explaining that Americans generally line up and take turns. They don’t tend to worry about finding room on the train, because there is usually a spot to sit or stand without having to fight for it. It’s simple experiences like these that make me realize how far I have come from Manila.

What is your winter cocktail? [QUIZ]

Featured photo by rpavich

Kayakers race down a drainage ditch

File this one under “Crazy but Awesome.” Pro kayakers Ben Marr and Rush Sturges come across a drainage ditch with a nice, consistent downhill pitch and just enough water to float a boat somewhere around Vancouver, BC. So what’s a pro kayaker to do? Bomb it, of course. Check this run and try not to freak out. Who knows, maybe they’re the first kayakers to get road rash.

8 signs your girlfriend is English

Photo: Dr John 2005

1. She can drink you under the table.

You can boast with your friend about your high resistance to alcohol, but with an English girlfriend you’ll soon find out you still have a long way to go before being called a MAN!

2. You’re not stoked on her cooking skills.

Don’t let her cook. Just don’t. Even if your cooking skills are average or bad, she’ll be probably be worse. We’re talking cold beans on toast with some vaguely melted cheese on top.

3. She is allergic to the sun.

English girls love the sun, they simply are not getting enough back home. They only wish the sun would love them back. Laying down on a sunny beach you’ll become a full-time sun cream-spreading machine.

4. She is also allergic to clothes in general.

Anywhere else in the world, people adapt the clothes they wear to the season, but your English girlfriend will just wear whatever she feels like — no matter the season or the temperature. It could be -2 in January; she’ll be going out in flip flops and pajamas. It could be sunny and 26 degrees and she’ll be in bikini and Ugg boots. On a night out she’ll be wearing a skirt even if it’s – 15 and snowing.

5. She doesn’t sound posh.

Before meeting her, you thought English girls would have refined accents, and you actually thought that the ‘Queen’s English’ was more widely used. Well, you were wrong. Your English girl sounds more like a rough, horny sailor with a thick accent you were not prepared for, using terms such as ‘having a giraffe’ and ‘taking the piss’ that you’re still trying to understand.

6. She’s addicted to tea.

She’ll have one as soon she’ll wakes up, she’ll have several pots during the day, leaving tea mugs half empty all over the house or her office, and she’ll have one just before bed. Always with some milk in it, but as a foreigner, you’ll never get the quantity right. But for some strange reason she will never actually call it ‘tea’. When she’ll want a tea, she’ll ask you for a ‘brew’ or for a ‘cuppa’. If she asks you to prepare tea she actually means dinner. Very confusing…

7. She becomes your sports-watching buddy.

Your English girlfriend is not very much into sports herself; the last time she did anything remotely close to sports was during her PE classes in high school. But she’ll love heading down the pub with you for a few pints and to watch some sport. She’ll have very good knowledge of football (she’ll kick me if I call it soccer), rugby and cricket, she is a good supporter and the perfect buddy to watch sports with. You’ll be surprised at the variety and colorfulness of curse words she can use when her favorite team is on.

8. She has a double personality.

Usually your English girlfriend has a very polite and calm personality. She shows good manners and is very considerate of other people. At the bus stop she will stand in the queue and she’ll even allow some people to pass in front of her while waiting for a taxi, sometimes apologizing for no reason. But when the sun sets and a few shots and glasses of wine get in her during a night out, her personality changes and she turns into something like a werewolf, capable of ripping you apart.

6 types of Buenos Aires expats

Photo: Santiago Sito

1. The ex-banker frat-boy expat

The fresh-out-of-Harvard, one-time Bright White Hope of the business world, he was the first in the firing line when the credit crunch came a-crunching in 2008. Landing in Buenos Aires with self-important dreams of founding some entrepreneurial-creative-philanthropy money pit, he soon realized that a far better investment was to shoot his huge bank-job pay-off load on five years of unrepentant partaying. His days are spent in his designer hammock or doing something unconventional with a Frisbee, and his nights alternate between Sugar and Magdalena’s Party (he’s been banned from The Alamo). Can’t stop talking about how awesome Creamfields is gonna be this year.

Speaks next to no Spanish, his one attempt at conventional learning coming to an abrupt end when he had sex with his teacher. After the first class. On the desk. But because he’s two feet taller than you, has the most perfect handshake, is always impeccably dressed, and seems at times to perspire money, you know you’d probably marry him if you were younger and dumber and the right gender. Instead, you just resent and despise him and his amazing Palermo loft as you take the bus home to your damp hovel in Almagro.

2. The “artist / musician / actor / photographer / yeah, I teach English, basically” expat

Buenos Aires was meant to be the launchpad for her momentous ascent on the global arts world, lauded as the multi-talented human epicentre of a vibrant cultural scene of her own making in the dog shit capital Paris of the south. But her indie-cumbia-gospel quintet succumbed to local indifference, her acting career highlight was as a 200-pesos-a-day extra in a Quilmes ad, and her paintings resemble angry sheep revisiting their breakfasts. Which is more than you can say for her photography.

All she’s got to show for the last five years is a dog-eared pile of phrasal verb photocopies and TOEFL practice tests, although she’s long lost any enthusiasm for teaching English, instead using her classes to watch Mad Men and chat to her better-looking students about their love lives. Likes to think of herself as more psychoanalyst than English teacher, which is fine because she isn’t really qualified to do either. Eventually moves back to the UK to teach Spanish in high schools and, understandably, commit suicide.

3. The yoga vegan enlightened world traveler expat

Hasn’t washed her hair or shaved since she arrived at Ezeiza, and writes ferocious blog posts no one reads about the importance of natural beauty, always neglecting to mention that discreet plastic surgery she had on a skiing trip to Mendoza. Pushing 60 but looking early 40s, when she isn’t meditating or whipping up an impromptu lunch of avocado, quinoa, and arugula, she’s telling you on Facebook about how she just meditated and whipped up an impromptu etc. and so on, and posting nuggets of fuzzy wisdom. For such an apparently zen-like figure, she gets into an awful lot of fights on Facebook, resulting in major defriendings and midday openings of gin bottles.

Kind of wound up in Buenos Aires by accident, back before she renounced men forever, and now can’t find her way out, so every new day here is a struggle to fight the resentment bubbling just below the surface and keep her chi in check. Has no idea what’s going on in the country she lives in and hence is constantly asking angry questions on Facebook like “Why are all my neighbours shouting?” and “What are all these fireworks for?!?!?” and “Why is X so expensive / hard to find in this damn town?” to which the answers are 1, Argentina just won the World Cup in a minority sport; 2, it’s New Years Eve; 3, because, well, Argentina.

4. The “Actually I prefer to think of myself as an immigrant” expat

Been here so long he refuses to mix with any Johnny-come-lately who doesn’t have a DNI and an expired passport with at least fifteen Uruguayan stamps. Lives somewhere you’ve never heard of like Villa General Mitre, and when you ask him where that is, he snorts “You know Palermo? Yeah, nowhere near there.” Ostentatiously supports an obscure football team in the B Metropolitana who had a brief flirtation with success back in the mid-90s.

The worst kind of pedantic linguist, he hauls Argentines up on matters of minor grammatical import in their own language, speaks Spanish with a comical Cordobés accent because his wife’s family’s from there and having a porteño accent would be, like, so BA newby, and insists on speaking Spanish to native English speakers, with the excuse that “Yeah, I don’t really speak that much English these days, actually.” Twat.

5. The Pilar / Hurlingham expat

You suspect this one may actually just be an Argentine with a really good English accent, if it wasn’t for that shock of red hair, the cricket whites, and that quintessentially Anglo-Saxon trait of functional alcoholism. Dig a little deeper and it turns out he has distant blood ties with some genocidal Irish-Argentine folk hero and can trace his family tree to Sarah Ferguson and Chris de Burgh. His Argentine wife speaks English with one of those near-perfect RP (River Plate, rather than Received Pronunciation) accents that are the hallmark of an expensive Lenguas Vivas / Joaquín González education, and is incapable of speaking her native Spanish without dropping in and out of English entirely unnecessarily, as in “Deberíamos ir a tomar un nice cup of tea algún día.”

6. The blogger expat

The massed ranks of the world’s English-speaking press never got back to him about that “Laugh-out-loud column about daily life in Buenos Aires” pitch, but that hasn’t put him off churning out weekly lists of lazy stereotypes of both his expat social group and his gracious Argentine hosts that invariably cause more offense than laughter. Fancies himself as a foodie / wine expert, if only so that he can have a boozy 3-hour, 5-course lunch without feeling guilty about the path his life has taken. Believes anything that cannot be reduced to a convenient list is not worth writing or reading and that all forms of humanity and culture can be whittled down to six essential “types.” Spends half his week spamming his own industrious drivel-ridden output on Twitter, since everyone on Facebook except his mum long since blocked the annoying little twerp’s updates.

This article was originally published on DanielTunnard.com, and has been re-published here with permission.

Signs you learned to drink in Spain

Photo: Jaime Pérez

1. You know the dangers of toasting with water

Or with any other non-alcoholic drink. You can do it, sure, but beware! By being such a rebel, you’re messing with the laws of the universe, and there will be consequences: you’ll be doomed to 7 years of bad sex. Or 7 years of no sex at all. You’ve probably discussed which one it was at some point in your life, which led to the discussion of which fate is worse.

2. When toasting, you’re mostly looking at your glass.

Who’s that creepy person who’s trying to make eye contact with the other participants in the toast? Ah, yes, a foreigner. When toasting, we prefer to look at our glasses and make sure that no drop is spilled. We can look into each other’s eyes later, when our drink is safely placed on the table.

3. You find the saying “p’arriba, p’abajo, pal’centro y pa’dentro” embarrassingly stupid, but you’ve loudly participated in many toasts with it and performed the accompanying choreography.

This is part of the reason we’re used to looking at our glasses during a toast. We’ve participated so many times during this silly ritual where we yell that phrase (up, down, to the center, and inside!), while moving our glasses accordingly. Why justify our drinking toasting happiness or health? This is a celebration of the act of drinking instead!

4. You don’t feel appalled by the idea of mixing red wine with Coca-Cola.

It was the perfect companion for botellón: kalimotxo! As a teenager, if red wine was too sour for you, you just added Coca-Cola to make it sweeter!

There are some requirements to mixing, though. The cheaper the ingredients (bad red wine from a carton is perfect, as is an alternative cola drink), the better the experience. You have to drink it in big plastic glasses (0.5 or 1 litre). Kalimotxo stains on your clothes are like scars, a souvenir from an exciting life, and the word glamour doesn’t exist in your vocabulary. If you’re a teen, enjoy the experience while you can. Headaches and memory lapses will soon tell you you’re too old for this.

5. You used to drink in the street…voluntarily.

You spent your teenage years and early 20s meeting your friends (and a bunch of other young strangers) in the street or at some square for botellón. You went to the supermarket, bought bottles of alcohol and soft drinks, plastic glasses, bags with ice, and made your own bar outdoors. Much cheaper than drinking in a pub, and definitely more convenient than doing it at home if your

parents were going to be around. At some point (when you got a job, when you started to prefer paying a bit more), you upgraded and now you only drink outdoors if it’s on a nice terrace.

6. You know the joys of singing regional songs.

After a few drinks, who doesn’t feel like singing? But you don’t feel like singing just any song, you want something deeply felt, some centuries old chant about your land, about your people, about landscape, hard work, drinking (and, depending where you’re from, also sex). Enter regional songs! And they don’t even have to be your own region’s songs! Asturias patria querida is a classic everywhere!

7. Daytime drinking is perfectly fine for you.

OK, maybe not for breakfast, but the rest of the day you can order an alcoholic drink anywhere in Spain and not being judged by the bartender, your friends, your family, nor anyone else. Before lunch? The aperitivo has to come with a vermouth or clara (beer with soda water / lemon soda). You can have a caña (draft beer) or a glass of wine at lunchtime (and then go back to work, yes). And, well, drinking after 5 pm is normal everywhere, isn’t it?

How we board planes makes no sense

DO YOU GET SICK of waiting in line while boarding the plane? Standing in the aisle awkwardly while every single person in front of you takes an insane amount of time to get seated? Have you ever thought, while exhausted from jetlag and maybe just a little bit bitter about the awfulness of air travel, that there just has to be a better way to board than this?

Well, it turns out you were right. The way most airlines board their planes — back rows on first, moving forward — might seem intuitive, but it actually makes absolutely no sense, and is one of the least efficient ways to get everyone on board quickly. The good people at Vox put together this video on what the most efficient ways to board a plane are, and why those efficient ways will probably never actually be the way things are done.

Featured photo by Kevin Jaako.

Most annoying airline passengers

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EVERY YEAR, EXPEDIA CONDUCTS A POLL to learn about what qualities and characteristics make up the most annoying airline passengers. Jimmy Kimmel decided to make the survey even more entertaining by casting Lawrence Olivier Award winner Sir Patrick Stewart to role play the obvious choices. Personally, I love when classically-trained actors let their guard down and act completely silly and stupid. To be honest though, if I were sitting next to Patrick Stewart on a long-haul flight, I’d let him gab on all he wanted about 50 Shades of Grey.

Have you had REAL Filipino food?

Photo: dahon

1. You think that bulalo is simply boiled beef.

Bulalo is a famous Filipino dish best consumed during cold weather. But some people mistakenly think that this dish is simply boiled beef. In fact, bulalo is made from Batangas beef which is thoroughly heated for hours until tender. And the broth is simply one of a kind, perfectly matched for cold weather. And the bigger the bones used, the more bone marrow you’ll have, and that’s what makes it extra special.

2. You’re thinking that pancit palabok is just an ordinary noodle dish.

Pancit palabok in the Philippines is one of the tastiest noodle dishes you’ll ever taste. It’s made with rice noodles layered with thick orange sauce combined with a wide variety of toppings such as pork, egg, shrimp, oyster, or squid. Because of its rich flavor, pancit palabok is commonly served at parties.

3. You consider all crabs to be the same.

Crabs are a common dish in some countries. You can simply eat the meat and you are good to go. But in the Philippines, there’s this ‘Taba ng Talangka’ which is one of a kind. The fats from crabs are sautéed with garlic and other seasoning. ‘Taba ng Talangka’ can also be used as a dipping for prawns and fried foods.

4. You believe chicken inasal is burned chicken.

Chicken inasal is marinated for several hours using lemongrass, calamansi, and salt. Before being grilled, it is brushed with achuete oil. You can pick which part ofchicken you want to have, either drumstick, breast, gizzard, liver, wings, or heart. The rice isn’t just ordinary rice, but garlic rice with orange oil used in marinating the chicken.

5. You dismiss crispy pata as plainly fried pork knuckle.

Crispy pata is basically everyone’s favorite, aside from lechon. Crunchy on the outside, yet tender on the inside, you can dip it in soy sauce with chili, vinegar, or any other sauce you want. It’s an exceptional partner for plain rice.

6. You throw away the cheek, head, and liver of a pig.

Some might think these parts aren’t necessary, but in the Philippines these parts are cooked and turned into a delicious and sizzling sisig. This dish has a very unique texture; it’s chewy and crunchy at the same time.

7. You can resist lechon.

Almost every party, celebration, and even small gathering has lechon. To think that you can resist lechon is just crazy! Just the smell of it will make you want more rice and more lechon. Its aroma is just so inviting — pork stuffed with pepper, spring onions, and lemongrass. To enhance the flavor of lechon even further, add star anise and laurel.

8. You think adobo is a common and ordinary Filipino dish.

Last but certainly not the least, we have adobo. Who can forget this delicious Filipino dish? From Mexico via Spain, Filipinos have made it unique through adding a variety of local spices. Cooking adobo is basically a more practical way of preserving meat without the need of a refrigerator.

5 sickest lines from X Games Aspen

2015 Winter X Games went off this past weekend in Aspen and Snowmass, Colorado. It was another stunning display of the best freeriders in the world, hucking huge jumps, boosting out of the monster pipe, and sliding buttery rails. We sifted through the best winning runs and picked five of the sickest, raddest lines, in no particular order, from X Games Aspen:

1. Mark McMorris, men’s snowboard slopestyle

Not sure what’s more impressive on this gold-medal run, McMorris’ silky smooth backside rail slides or his monster backside 1440 to cap off the run. Wow!

2. Silje Norendal, women’s snowboard slopestyle

A technically flawless run with a gorgeous frontside rodeo, this Norwegian bombsehell shows she can break records as well as hearts.

3. Chloe Kim, women’s snowboard superpipe

The youngest ever gold medalist in the lady’s pipe, Kim boosts like few women can and sticks EVERY SINGLE landing. Mad impressive showing from the kid.

4. Vincent Gagnier, men’s ski big air

The Canadian just kills his big air runs with an unprecedented array of grabs and style like none other. It’s official: The Gagnier brothers are a freeskiing dynasty.

5. Nick Goepper, men’s ski slopestyle

Goepper shows what it takes to win the slope comp — speed, big air on every element, and buttery smooth transitions. This might as well be a how-to video.