I was never one to correct other people's grammar or publicly tell bloggers how they misspelled words, especially since I'm not fond of proofreading myself. But lately, little verbal faults that make speakers less effective are irritating me far more than they ever did:
1. "Intelligent" young hosts on local TV who start every other sentence with "Basically" or "Actually". If they love adverbs so much, then they shouldn't wear these two out for the rest of us.
2. People who replace words with "ano" and "kwan". [Yes, Mel. Your "By the way, yung ano nga pala, paki kwan. Kasi baka ma-ano yun ng ano e. Importante." may very well lead me to divorce you -- or better yet, to spike your morning coffee with extra-strength laxatives.]
I must really be approaching middle age -- I am morphing into my high school English teacher. Next week, I might just start wearing black stockings with white open-toe sandals.
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9.18.2004
DIAGON ALING
Growing up, I never liked to go to the palengke [market]. There was the smell of raw chicken and meat that made me want to hurl, and the nasty stinky puddles that looked like primodial soup from which new life forms were about to emerge. On Sundays when my mom would ask me to drive her to the market (and carry her bayong [basket] around for her), I tried to fake mortal illness almost every time.
My mom was the ultimate palengke expert. She knew how to haggle. She knew what fresh food looked like. She knew obscure vegetables by name (a skill graduate school did not equip me with). She knew what to do with those strange-looking seafood that looked like they should be on the endangered species list (personally, I only buy tilapia as buying fresh bangus [milkfish] still intimidates me). And she had a well-tuned shit-o-meter that no vendor ever successfully pulled a fast one on her. If only I wasn't so busy doing the grossed out colegiala act on those trips to the market with my mom, I would have probably learned something useful.
Given my unadventurous food-shopping disposition, I was happy to go to one of those warehouse clubs to get my supplies for my new business. The goods were cheap (as per my limited knowledge), they accepted plastic and the sales people didn't wear dusters.
But my world changed when I ventured into one of Metro Manila's bigger markets a few weeks ago. My first reaction: "ANG MURAAAAA!" -- as much as 50 percent cheaper! Plus my suppliers had interesting nommes worthy of loyal patronage, like Mang Jun Saging and Aling Lydia Lumpia. The fact that they did not issue official receipts or that I had to pay cash or that I could see my suki's nipples peeking from the fringes of his well-worn sando is a non-issue.
Okay, so maybe the nipple thing still freaks me out...
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9.15.2004
SAND-WITCH
I met a girl who will be setting up a sandwich kiosk (ala Oliver's) next to my mall kiosk. At first, I thought that was a good thing -- as her product doesn't compete with mine and I don't have to travel far to get lunch when I'm there. Upon meeting though, the hag put on airs of hurricane proportions. I was not pleased.
Sneering at my 8-peso banana spring rolls, she let me know that she couldn't drop prices like I do as she will be selling all-imported meat -- burgers, cold cuts and such.
While I am far from being militant about buying Filipino, I do believe that meat tastes better when it isn't jetlagged. And I don't think that a piece of cow/pig in my sandwich tastes better solely because it has a stamp on its passport. Really.
Bananas. My mom's surefire remedy for LBM is now the heart of the new business enterprise that has haunted my waking hours and kept me away from writing.
Last September 4, I opened my "Banana Na!" snack kiosk at the L5 Cinema Lobby of Robinsons Metro East Mall along Marcos Highway. The snack stand offers banana spring rolls ("turon") loaded with special fillings of my own creation -- banana-cinnamon and banana-"langka" (jackfruit). We also double-coated bananas ("saba") with sugar and named it banana caramel (it's the street banana-q's yummier, more fattening cousin). I have two more flavors in R&D.
While it's too early to tell if the concept will fly in the long run, I'm ecstatic at how people are loving the product. We sold 300 spring rolls on the first day and I had 8 franchise inquiries by Day 3. :)
People have asked me how I came up with the idea for up-scaling banana-q. Being very intimate with all things fried, I often combed the streets for fried bananas towards the end of my last pregnancy. When I finally find some jeepney stop that sells it, the fear of hepatitis overwhelms me into not giving in to my craving. Banana-q is a typical Filipino street food that has not yet made it to the malls -- unlike fishballs and dimsum -- and I just knew I wasn't the only one in the world who wanted pollutant-free banana snacks.
With the first store and a commissary set up and purchasing-inventory-sales management systems in place, I'm keen on building the volumes which will maximize profit. 'Am looking at setting up more branches and franchising in two months. :) Send me email if anyone out there is interested.
And did you know "mona" in Spanish means "female monkey"? Monkey, bananas -- get it? I took it as a sign.
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9.01.2004
IF YOU DO, YOU'LL GO BLIND
My adventure into entrepreneurship has sent me hunting all over and beyond Metro Manila for decent suppliers and for new ideas I could adapt to my food stand concept.
On one such busy day, when the sun was scorching the planet like it had a grudge to settle and the traffic was worse than usual, I found myself driving through the Boni Underpass in Mandaluyong which spans the width of EDSA.
As soon as I was a few meters in, everything blacked out. No, I didn't faint -- I just went blind.
In a mild (at best) state of panic, I tried to recall when my last eye exam was and how long ago I ate kalabasa (pumpkin). I wondered how long it would take me to study Braille and how I could get one of those Braille PC keyboards. I anguished at the thought that my 100+ DVD collection would go to waste and how a seeing eye dog in the house would make my kids' allergic rhynitis flare.
Just as I was about to start crying, my hand brushed the side of my head. "Ehehe, I'm wearing shades pala."
I had on one of those cheap $3 eyeglasses that did not adjust to light the way decent eyewear did -- as I have lost all of my good dark glasses 1) after letting my children play and bend them into uselessness and 2) after dropping them accidentally into public toilets (you see, I wear them over my head all the time and they ... well, slide off ... often).
Good News: I was/am not going blind.
Bad News: If I were, the last movie I saw before losing my eyesight would have been "Agent Cody Banks 2." **shudder**
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