Ten Peso Coin

This is a little economics lesson, I guess.

This is a 10 peso coin. That's 10 bucks in the currency of the Philippines to my dear, beloved readers from other countries. It has two Filipino heroes on it --- Andres Bonifacio and Apolinario Mabini. Yeah, nice.

So what can you buy with it, you ask. Well, for that coin you can get yourselves a sachet of shampoo. Or you can get a bottle of distilled water (mineral can go up to P12). Or you can buy yourself a lot of sweets. Yeah, not really a lot! That P10 coin isn't really worth much.

Or is it?

In 2000, the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas (Central Bank of the Philippines) decided to phase out the brown P10 peso bill and replace it with a coin. They decided on a design which incorporates both a silvery and golish metal (do'nt know exactly what metals Philippine coins are made of). Unfortunately, they must have left out the ish part in goldish when they were getting the metals. This resulted in the 2000 and 2001 editions of the coin with real gold. And it took them two years to correct the mistake.

Yeah, that's right. That's real gold in your 2000 or 2001 1o peso coin. As in, you can melt the centre of that and make a ring or something! As in, foreigners are lining up to buy those editions of the coins for their gold content. As in, yes, your ten peso coin is worth more that P10. Your coin is worth more than what everyone says its worth is supposed to be.

Not so worthless now, is it?!

In life, we are those 10 peso coins. We all have very valuable things in us (our talents, abilities, our heart, determination...). Like the gold in those coins, we are very precious. Like the gold in those coins, we shine. Like the gold in those coins, we can even save nations. That's how we were made.

Unfortunately, like those coins, we never realise how valuable we are because the world says that our value is limited. Every time someone tells you that you're too fat/lazy/conceited/whatever, they try to dictate our value. Every time people say that you can't do something, they underestimate your worth. And every time we agree with them, we agree with the value they assign to us. Not realising our potential. Not realsing just how precious we are. Not realsing that there is gold in us.

One of the most fatal mistakes of humanity is to look at himself and think that their worthless when really, they are priceless. And no, that price can buy something better than just another shampoo sachet.

To Make You Feel His Love

Make You Feel My Love - Adele

When the rain
Is blowing in your face
And the whole world
Is on your case
I could offer you
A warm embrace
To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows
And the stars appear
And there is no one there
To dry your tears
I could hold you
For a million years
To make you feel my love

I know you
Haven't made
Your mind up yet
But I would never
Do you wrong
I've known it
From the moment
That we met
No doubt in my mind
Where you belong

I'd go hungry
I'd go black and blue
I'd go crawling
Down the avenue
No, there's nothing
That I wouldn't do
To make you feel my love

The storms are raging
On the rolling sea
And on the highway of regret
Though winds of change
Are throwing wild and free
You ain't seen nothing
Like me yet

I could make you happy
Make your dreams come true
Nothing that I wouldn't do
Go to the ends
Of the Earth for you
To make you feel my love

Okay, it's a lovely song. Lovely voice. Lovely lyrics. Lovely melody. Yeah. Yeah. But it means nothing to you, right? It's just another swoon-worthy love song. Meh!

But what if someone says that's their song for you? What if someone said this is just how they felt about you? What if they tell you, that, yeah, they really would like you to feel their love, as the song says.

Not so meh now is it? If someone tells you all this, you'd be giddy, airy, like everything is light in the world.

Hey, I know Someone who continues to tell me that everyday. And yeah, He did go to the ends of the earth for me. Just to make me feel His love.

Am I not blessed?!

Dah Syat

That's "awesome" in Bahasa Indonesia. It also happens to be the title of one of my favourite Indonesian shows (Yeah, another proof of my cultural craziness!).

Dah Syat is shown everyday on RCTI (Rajawali Citra Televisi Indonesia) at 9 am Jakarta time (10 am Singapore/Manila and 12 noon Sydney). It's hosted by the lovely Luna Maya and the rather animated Raffi Ahmad. Watch it to find out more. In fact, watch it here:

Okay, so maybe it's just another music show. Yeah, I have to admit that it's like watching something on MTV only on Red Bull and in Bahasa Indonesia. But that's the thing. It's in Bahasa Indonesia! I'm curious to find out just what kind of music they've been churning out out there. I'm curious to hear their language so close to mine but yet quite far. I'm curious to the point of actually satisfying this urge to learn more about culture by watching Indonesian TV!

I know. You don't get it. And I don't expect you to. I don't really expect everyone to rant about say, how breezy Radiodrome by August (They're a Thai band) is. Nor do I expect everyone to argue with me on which is the best Jean-Paul Jeunet film is. I know not everyone is as...world crazy as me. And I'm pretty okay with that, I guess. I, however, am okay with sharing this globally curious side of me with others. Well, except for two people.

My parents have always been the society types. They are those people who know every cut of gemstone and tell you never to mix gold jewelry with silver ones. They're the types who know which food goes with which wine. They're the types who know the difference between cream and ecru (which I sort of know). Yeah, they are pretty much into appearances. Add to that the fact that they stare at me every time I, say, rant about the significance of the colour yellow in Thai culture and you get why I just can't tell them. How could I tell them that I find street vendors very lovely? How could I explain to them that I love traffic jams because it makes me observe people on the street and analyse their stories? How could I tell my rather uppity parents that their daughter is a world culture geek who squeals every time she hears another language being spoken?

But it happened. One day sitting down for lunch on a DahSyat high, I happened to be asked by my mum about what I think of this certain outfit (forgot what). I, not thinking who I was talking to, told her it was really "dahsyat" and she replied with "Beg your pardon?" In an instant, I realised my slip up and attempted for a retraction. I was going through my head for words to explain myself but found zilch. So I said the only thing I could --- the truth. I braced myself for another stare down or another eye roll that without words says "OMG! What's wrong with you". I winced and prepared myself to hear...

"Dahsayt? It's some Indoenesian show...okay!"

What? No lecture about us keeping our appearances? No lecture about me getting into yet another crackers artsy-fartsy things? No lecture about me being too engrossed about another culture's face but not fixing my own? That was truly unexpected! But oh...wait! There's more!

The next morning, Mum asked me to help her pick some clothes out. She offered me that i can watch any TV show I want. And by that, she meant anything. Cautiously, I told her that I wanted to watch DahSyat. She then looked up, laughed and told me "Haha1 Okay. I'll watch to find out".

And guess what. She liked it! She liked it so much she was asking me questions about Indonesia, their culture, their music, Luna Maya and everything related to that archipelago I was and still am fascinated with observing. The whole thing just made me realise something.

Admit it or not, there is always something about the people we love that irritates us. Whether it's the way he loves to procrastinate or the way she drones on and on about herself, there is some spec of dust in those diamonds of your heart. But does it stop you from loving them? No. Because really, love is loving despite of, not loving because of.

And if there's someone who knows most about love, it's Him. In fact, He is love. He truly loves us no matter how broken/imperfect/culture geek we are.

And this is partly why He is dah syat!

Don't Blame Pizza Hut

Let's start this blog post with a sort of question and answer quiz thing. Just for fun. So here's the question:

The woman in this picture is quite famous for her sort of job. What is it?


A. Parliament Minister
B. British Idol
C. Beauty queen
D. Children's book author

Go on! Guess!


Done? Are you ready to find out the correct answer? It is none other than......


C! Her name is Chloe Marshall. She's 23 and Miss Surrey 2008.

What was that? She doesn't look like the typical size 0 beauty queen? She actually has curves? Well, that's because she isn't size 0. She's actually a size 16 (extra large).

I can see the shock in all of your faces. I can see dropped jaws and expressions of bafflement everywhere. And I can see your point. I mean since when have you heard beauty queen and size 16 in the same sentence? Well, here she is now, the winner of a regional pageant. A woman who represented Surrey in the Miss United Kingdom pageant. And curvy.

What was that? You're wondering how she got into the competition in the first place? You're wondering how a...robust girl like her could compete with the size 0-2 girls at the pageant? You're wondering what came over the judges to put her through the various rounds of competition? And most of all, you're wondering how she, a woman who certainly is no Kate Moss, won a beauty competition? Well, you aren't alone.

This is from the Philippine Star entertainment column of Mr. B (I'm not telling who exactly he is. But he's pretty famous in the Philippines.). He was writing a piece about the recently concluded Binibining Pilipinas (Miss Philippines) pageant. It was a pretty okay piece. I do get some of the comments on the production values of the show. But what is hauntingly blaring at me is this excerpt:

When the show got into the swimsuit competition- with the contestants doing the mandatory poses in a resort in Batangas- I thought most of the shots were unflattering. Was it the camera angles that showed most of the contestant's bulging midsections? It was either that or the contestants had too much Pizza Hut.

I know that the camera adds pounds but not that much. It adds at most about 5 or so pounds. So, that bulging midsection is in fact actually a NORMAL midsection. A normal midsection you normally get whilst sitting down, which is what they probably did in the photoshoot. The writer continues:

Then I saw the tale of the tape flashed on one side of the screen. Some of the girls had waistlines as wide as 26! You could actually mount a flat screen onto them! To the pageant organisers, send the winners to Gold's Gym, pronto!

The average waistline of a woman is 30. So to say that you can mount a flat screen TV on a 26 inch waist is ridiculous. Oh and by the way, most of the girls are already members of gyms to get into your pageant. I don't think you can dictate to them to go to the gym!

Mr. B, I kind of get your point. You just want to end the beauty title drought of the country. I get that you just want our ladies to be recognised for beauty. I get that you just want to promote Filipina beauty.

But Filipina beauty should and isn't limited to tall, white and size 0. In fact, no country's beauty is limited to just that. Just like a rainbow, beauty comes in all shades. Black or white, tall or short, size 0 to 28, it's all beautiful. It is this diversity that makes the world a lot more colourful and, yes, lovely.

But I can't fully blame Mr. B, though. Beauty pageants have this ingrained culture that does not that easily accept unique beauty. He's probably just a reflection of such a culture.

I think it's about time that the beauty in beauty pageant diversified. And it starts by accepting the Chloe Marshalls of the world as beauty queens.

And this time, you don't blame Pizza Hut.

Beauty for Asthma

Waiters/chefs all around Manila should grant me this simple request next time. No, it's not big. No, it will not require you to serve your severed left arm to me. No, it will not require you to get salt all the way from Iraq. This is just a simple, doable request. And it's this.

Please, next time, tell me if your starter has seafood in it. It's a matter of life and death (figuratively and literally) for someone who has seafood allergies like me. If you still don't get it, let's just put it this way. It's what differentiates me from looking like this....

Okay... to this:

Yeah, I know! Seafood does that to my face. All because of some inconspicuous pieces of squid, my face got swollen . My normally, big, deeply-set Indian eyes have halved. My narrow face has become rather bloated. Of course, my face is going to get back to its normal state probably by tonight or tomorrow. But still, this is something that should never happen to anyone. So please, waiters and chefs, warn us.

What? What was that? You're asking me how I got the courage to put my bloated face pic in here? You're asking me if I realise that by posting the picture above, I am making myself the target of laughs? You're asking me how can I post a photo of me looking like that?

Well, it's simple really. You see despite a bloated face, I still feel well... me. I still feel beautiful despite my eye sockets feeling like they've just sucked a fair amount of water. I still feel like the same girl who finally got into Fully Booked and almost wanted to cry at the amount of material (BTW, Fully Booked is drool-worthy!). The bloated face can not dictate to me who I am. The bloated face can not dictate to me what I can do. The bloated face can not dictate to me what my worth as a person is. But most of all, the bloated face is not all that I am.

It's the same way with other insecurities, really. Go ahead and try it. Replace the bloated face with whatever insecurities you have. Go ahead and think about you telling yourself "I'm too short/tall/blonde/smart/fat/emotional/conceited/whatever". Now... replace my bloated face with your thing. And tell yourself this...

___ can not dictate to me who I am. ___ can not dictate to me what I can do. ___ can not dictate to me what my worth as a person is. But most of all, ___ is not all that I am.

Everyone is beautiful no matter what. Short, tall, black, white, skinny, plus-sized, normal faced, bloated faced --- it really doesn't matter. We can all show our true selves and bare who we really are. Because who we really are is beautiful.

But yeah, I still want my normal face back. Vit! Vit! S'il vous plait!