Sinulog grand parade January 15, 2006
Scenes on the street during today’s Sinulog grand parade in Cebu City. Photos taken along P. del Rosario Street.
171 languages spoken in the Philippines October 30, 2005
While searching for answers to 20 questions in an Internet scavenger hunt that my online journalism teacher Dr. Elliot King assigned to the class two or three weeks ago, I found this Wikipedia entry about the Philippines.
A total of 171 native languages are spoken in the country. Except for English, Spanish, Hokkien, Cantonese, Mandarin, and Chabacano, all of the languages belong to the Malayo-Polynesian branch of the Austronesian language family.
There are 12 native languages with at least one million native speakers: Tagalog, Cebuano, Ilokano, Hiligaynon, Bikol, Waray-Waray, Kapampangan, Pangasinan, Kinaray-a, Maranao, Maguindanao, and Tausug. These are spoken natively by more than 90% of the population.
The entry cited as its source ethnologue.com, a website owned by SIL International, which “studies, documents, and assists in developing the world’s lesser-known languages.” The entry on the Philippines in ethnologue.com was based on a 2000 study conducted by the organization.
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Fine dining at the Waterfront September 20, 2005
I was at the Waterfront Hotel in Cebu City last night for a “fine dining” experience. The dinner was in line with the Cebu Press Freedom Week Celebration and was “by invitation only”. I did not have any invitation–I’m a journalist in a medium that has still to gain acceptance in a third world country like the Philippines–but my husband, a newspaperman, had one and he gave it to me because he was busy with work and was unsure if he could make it.
So off I went. What was I thinking? I almost starved in the midst of all that food. My taste buds, so used to the uncomplicated taste of the bland and ordinary, protested at the riot of sensations from the night’s six-course haute cuisine.
For salad, we had spiced beef tenderloin marinated in lemon juice, shoyu sauce, olive oil and made into rolls with ripe mango, celery, oven dried tomatoes, mushrooms, and green peas as filling. One ingredient at a time, please, I almost begged. The only thing complicated I ever had to eat before this was pizza.
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Sun.Star blogs page July 23, 2005
(Cross-posted in Sun.Star Blog Chronicles)
After going over so many themes, I’ve finally selected one that I’m happy with for the Sun.Star Blog Chronicles, a Sun.Star Network Online section intended to cover the blogging community. Thanks to Max, Sun.Star Cebu online editor, who suggested this theme and who took care of the necessary improvements.
The Sun.Star Blog Chronicles is not even halfway ready. In the process of putting it out, other tasks came up delaying the launch of the section. I am, however, forced to hasten its completion because contributor J. Angelo Racoma already wrote about it in his blog. I guess thanks to him, too, for speeding things up.
We’re still accepting bloggers into our pool and coming up with publication rules and guidelines. Some of the submissions will see print in Sun.Star newspapers.
Other things lined up involve sections with reader-generated content and contributors from outside mainstream media.
A jail warden and Arroyo July 22, 2005
The Saturday issue of Sun.Star Pampanga will banner the story of the Angeles City jail warden who was found dead in his quarters earlier Friday, an apparent suicide.
The reason? He was reportedly worried about the investigation being sought by the US embassy on the death of an American national, a former US Navy man, while locked up in the Angeles jail.
Child of the street July 19, 2005
On the way to the office, my cab stopped at a red light. On cue, a grubby kid—looking helpless, hungry, miserable—appeared on the cab’s passenger window, begging for money.
I’m torn between giving and not giving. I’m afraid the light will turn green the minute I open the window and hand over the money. I’m scared that he’ll grab my bag. I’m eating and I do not want to dirty my hands. I feel guilty that I’m having cheeseburger and fries, inside the cool interior of the cab while he swelters outside, so I act as if I do not see him.
