bambina writes

Barça Forever

My piece on one of my favorite cities, more like a second home to me, owing to deep and lasting family ties to the place.  My grandfather was actually Cantabrian, from a pueblo called Udias in Santander, but after the Civil War, his siblings had moved to Barcelona and settled there.  Going to Spain to see family has always meant going to Barcelona; when it comes to football, I am unequivocally 100% culé.

 So I was delighted that Grazia magazine commissioned this piece while I was there over the summer:

 

 

Honoris Falsa

Former Armed Forces Chief of Staff and Secretary of Defense General Angelo Reyes shot himself in the chest earlier today.

Some have hailed his suicide at the grave of his mother as an act of honor, reminiscent of a samurai choosing ritual suicide over a life of shame and ignominy.  More recently, it has been the preferred exit strategy of choice for Asian government officials hounded by allegations of corruption, such as former Korean president Roh Moo-hyun, who plunged to his death by jumping off a cliff near his home in 2009.

The Republic of WTF

The year was shaping up to be a good one for the Philippines.  A new president was at the helm, perceived to be honest, after the nine-year calamity that was Gloria Arroyo.  Manny Pacquiao, the world boxing champion in practically all the weight divisions, was considered, "pound-for-pound" the greatest boxer ever. Teen singing sensation Charice landed a role in the US TV hit series Glee and promptly Botox-ed her face in preparation for her star turn.  Native son Miguel Syjuco's literary tour-de-force Ilustrado, winner of the Man Asian Prize, hit bookstores worldwide and garnered much-deserved citical acclaim. Designer Rajo Laurel's intricate cobweb dress made the cover of WWD.  Boracay's beautiful albeit no-longer-as-pristine shores were belatedly discovered by the likes of the New York Times and heralded as the next Phuket.  

It's the World Cup, Baby!

It’s been almost three weeks since the World Cup started, and I cannot believe how riveted I am by this tournament.  My daughters and I went to the opening at Soccer City, cheered ourselves hoarse for Mexico and cursed every single vuvuzela-blowing moron. 

 Last Friday we were at Loftus Stadium in Pretoria to watch our team, Spain, trounce the Chileans.  In between those two matches, I was in Europe, marooned indoors, thanks to the rainy midsummer weather, all the more conducive to watching the World Cup on TV.  In Italian at that, which made football much sexier – calcio d’angulo, for instance, sounds infinitely more alluring than the mundane “corner kick”.

Cape Now

 
Cape Town, I like to think, is a country on its own, and among my favorite writing assignments are those that involve me going to Cape Town, or, at the very least, writing about it.

Textual Harassment

With barely five days to go before the elections, I remain undecided.  The problem is, everybody wants to rule the world, but frankly, most of them should be running for pale shelter. 

Yes, it’s a mad world, especially during election season.  Welcome to the Philippines, the love child of Borat and Kafka, where midgets reign and dicks join in the parade, where pint-sized warlords with gold rings on their pudgy fingers keep tigers as pets or gun down political rivals like Rambo on crystal meth, and the clergy stick their noses into their flock’s reproductive activities as they stick their fingers into government coffers by way of indiscreetly dispensed funds from presidential lackeys, then claim moral superiority.

B on B: When Bambina Met Beckenbauer

Becks and me, August 2008.  Photo by Thomas von Ubrizsy

With the 2010 World Cup frenzy in full swing, everyone seems to have football on their minds.

In the summer of 2008, I met one of football’s greatest players, Franz Beckenbauer.  I wasn’t a football moron; my mother had some connection to FIFA once upon a time, and I grew up knowing, at the very least, who Pele was.  The national team I support is España, of course, and if pressed to choose a club, it would have to be Barça.  So anything to do with the Bundesliga, was, well, a bit too Deutschland uber alles for me.

But Franz Beckenbauer was a charmer, even if I had never heard of him before that sunny day in August in Ulrichen, Switzerland.  However, my cousin Rick – a sports journalist, football fanatic and Liverpool supporter – had, and when I texted him about the meeting, he texted me back immediately from Manila with a list of questions – he could barely contain his envy.  As I sat beside the original Becks before there even was a David Beckham, I pretended to be knowledgeable about the sport, asking what I hoped were intelligent questions, as per Rick’s instructions, like how he felt about Klinsman coming back to coach Bayern…

A Matter of Bribe

Bribery in all its forms - petty, blatant, subtle, systematic or institutionalized - is pretty much a way of life in South Africa.  Of course you get the whites who say it's an African thing, but in reality, is a human thing, borne out of economic desperation, bureaucratic frustration and maybe even civic creativity.  

But knowing all of the above still didn't inoculate me from the stupefaction of being hit for a bribe by the immigration supervisor on duty at the airport when I left for Manila during the Christmas holidays.

The Swine of the Times

When the avian flu broke out some years back, as a preventive measure, millions of chickens were slaughtered.  It may be too early to tell whether the current swine flu outbreak will reach pandemic proportions, but fortunately for us humans eating pork doesn't seem to pose any danger of contamination.

And fortunately, I am neither Jewish nor Muslim, because frankly, I love pork. In all its incarnations - roasted, deep-fried, grilled, braised, barbecued, cured, smoked, even boiled, depending on how it's cooked. Filipino-style preferably, in a tamarind-based broth perhaps...

The One & Only

No, this isn't about the star-studded grand opening of the One&Only Cape Town, which by the way, is a fabulous hotel by any standard.  With architecture by Ruben Reddy and Dennis Fabian Berman and interiors by Adam Tihany, it is sexy, modern and chic, and makes that grande dame of Cape Town, The Mount Nelson, look like its spinster aunt, creased but dignified, clinging defiantly to the glories of centuries past.  

No, this isn't about the hotel at all, though in a roundabout way, it is.

My So-Called Life

The Girl Can Cook

As a writer, I have to confess to a secret thrill when I see my name in print.  Any writer who tells you otherwise is lying.  Of course, I'd prefer to see my name as the byline to a story, or, even better, as the author of a book very prominently displayed in all the windows of all the Barnes & Noble stores.  But for the moment I'll settle for seeing my name mentioned in the acknowledgments page of a book, as I was this year. Not just once, mind you, but twice, when two very dear friends came out with their respective cookbooks.

Three years ago, my bestest friend Claudia published DELICIOUS in Hong Kong together with another friend, Dominica.  The book featured 60 of their favorite recipes and was a spectacular success. Having enjoyed many meals with Claudia and her family throughout the almost 20-odd years that we have been friends, believe me when I tell you, the girl can cook.  

Meet the Prez

Huff 'n Puff

With election fever raging in America, The Huffington Post has become my bookmarked blog for all things election-related.  

It's easy to affect bored indifference at the nonstop election coverage in the media, but the fact remains that this is a particularly crucial contest, and whoever emerges victorious as the next President of the United States is going to have a profound impact on our world order.  Is it going to be the hot-headed, traumatized prisoner-of-war held hostage by the rabid right wing and his suddenly expensively coiffed and dressed pseudo-Hockey Mom of a Vice President?  Or will it be the man of admittedly little experience yet deep intelligence and measured calm along with his extremely capable and seasoned running mate?

WOW Philippines

I think the Department of Tourism should hire me.  Though certainly not the DOT under the current administration.  Yes, I'm being utterly political.

In the last 12 months, Philippine luxury retail has had quite a bit of coverage in WWD.  There have been stories on Greenbelt and Ayala Land, Rafe, Melissa Dizon and Eairth, and players who have shaped the market like SSI and Anton Huang, Jappy Gonzalez, Ricco and Tina Ocampo, Juan Miguel Ongsiako, and Louis Vuitton.  There was also a story on Adora I wish I'd written but my editor beat me to it!

Last Monday, my article on how the luxury market has come of age in the Philippines appeared in a special WWD Real Estate Review  issue.  It was in fact the lead-in article (yay!):  A Family's Retail Legacy.  Because, of course, where would luxury retail in the country be without the vision of the Tantoco family?