A broad abroad

If I'm running out of a select item--something easily portable--I usually stop by the Mercadona on my walk home from the metro station. Today was a slight change, as I didn't limit myself to just the necessities. After months of eyeing them in stores, I finally caved and bought my first package of Filipinos, mainly due to curiosity, but also, um, because of that publicidad featuring Mom and Dinosaur Jr. (not the band).

My thinking went along the lines of, Heeyyyy, I'm Filipino(a), and even though this is (more than) kind of odd, I'm willing to try this novelty snack item that's (again, kind of) weird (backhand) evidence of the long relationship between my temporary adopted country and the one of birth.

I was also won over by the fact that the Filipinos were significantly cheaper than the Oreos on the next shelf.

When I got home, it occurred to me why the Filipinos were more affordable: I had inadvertently picked up the pack of minis! I felt stupid. How was I supposed to gallivant dinosaur-style, as it were, from the kitchen to the living room, without the regular, donut-shaped goods in my hands?

I had duped myself. More importantly, I proved to be the perfect consumer. While I'm not quite the cookie fanatic, I still went ahead and made the purchase because the brand spoke to me. A Filipino eating a Filipino. A chocolate-covered white biscuit. A variation on the past: a banana, a Twinkie. Coincidence and irony.

According to this Wikipedia article, the current Filipino cookies were inspired by rosquillos from the Visayas, hence the props. Rosquillo itself comes from the Spanish rosca, i.e. ring, as does the chocolate coating.

Homage or not, however, Filipino cookies still rub me the wrong way, so that was my first and last package. I know, it's just food! I'm nevertheless not the only one who had issues with it. A decade ago The Philippine government was wondering more or less the same. Obviously, nothing ever came of it, which makes me wonder about the popularity of the cookies.

On the other hand, I don't doubt the extensive Filipino presence here. As in, the people. It's not exactly as cohesive--ok, well-known--as the Chinese community, but I've definitely identified more Filipinos out and about than my home state (obviously neither California nor New York). Clearly, MetroMadrid a) agrees that there is a significant Filipino community here, b) suggest that Madrileños (of Filipino descent or not) are conscious of it, too. In recent months, they've circulated (a much shorter version of) the following commercial:



As with the cookies, I was mostly surprised when I first saw this ad, waiting for the movies at one of the Cines Renoir. For once, I didn't have to read the subtitles. I even giggled; nos ha queda'o igualito. In a few months, I will also be that balikbayan (twice removed) recounting my adventures in Spain. You can bet that one of the things I'll be championing will be the subway.

Upon further chance viewings, my frowns grew wider. Yes, the Philippines is a country in development. Yes, many Filipinos continue to lead the agrarian live. Yes, many Filipinos have the tendency to imitate, emulate "Western" ways.

And yes, I understand that overall, it is just a publicity campaign for MetroMadrid, like the Filipino cookies are just...cookies. MetroMadrid's commercial is a witty, even charming statement on the cleanliness and efficiency of Western Europe's third-largest system. What pueblo--Spanish, Filipino, or otherwise--wouldn't want one of their own? Maybe I am reading too much into things (thank you, cultural studies). I just hope that folks don't take it too much at face value because whether we like it or not, some of us still retain fragments of that colonial mentality.



(Image: Wikipedia)

Spring is in the air

It's hard to be depressed when it's ridiculously beautiful outside. Since I've been kind of--natch, mostly--down on myself as well as my time thus far in Spain, I thought I'd do a complete 360 and attempt to cheer up a bit by presenting my scant readers a list of some of my personal Madrid favorites:

* Terrazas -- With the good weather about, all the gastronomic establishments are busting out the outdoor seating. Gaudeamus in Lavapies is a perennial favorite, but unfortunately, they only open up in the afternoon on weekdays, at 8 on Saturdays, and are--gasp!--closed on Sundays. On weekends, I like any of the places giving out to the Plaza de Olavide.

* Los Alpes -- Because this ice cream shop can make any flavor into a very delicious shake for 3,20EUR, and because I can walk to it, and because it's not yet packed with the summer crowd.

* Panta Rhei -- My preferred design bookshop in all of Madrid. The owners/employees are nice, help you when you need it, and otherwise leave you alone to peruse the excellent selection. Sure, it's all expensive, but it's a great place for inspiration.

* CD Drome -- Caters to (most of) my music needs. Again, browse for hours! And if I can't find it, there's that behemoth in Callao.

* Mingote -- I've personally never seen the illustrious illustrator's work on paper, but its city-wide presence never fails to elsmile. Find the drawings on the facade of a building on Duque de Osuna, behind the staircase near Plaza de España, on C/Sal in Las Austrias, and in the Retiro metro station platforms.

* Centros culturales - A great and cheap way to get your kicks in your own neighborhood. In April, for example, my local center will be offering a slew of conferences, concerts, a few exhibits, and even a weekend guided hike in Cuenca.


More to come when I think of it.

C'est la vie

After work today, I headed to the airport to file a claim for a lost item through Air Europa. I went against my own will, let's say, and only because I had been given the telephone run around the previous night, passed on to one office from another. I must've asked for Lost and Found a million times, and was constantly referred to Luggage Services, who kept passing me to a different office.

Afterwards I tried to see if I couldn't send a message by email. Even if it took weeks for a reply, at least I would have proof of an attempt at reconciliation. And, of course, something was wrong with either both of my browsers (Firefox and IE) or something was wrong with the website, and of course, there was no other way to send an email besides filling out a form.

Exasperated, I once called the general customer service number and tried to explain my situation (calmly, because the loss is my fault.)

The very patient woman on the other line recommended that I call the various numbers that I'd already dialed, and to make my way to Barajas to file a reclamación in person. So, off I went, asked one of three representatives at the service desk. Of course, she had to direct me to the adjacent office...that was closed. I hightailed it to the metro and sulked all the way home.

Sure, there were a lot of unfortunate though overall insignificant occurrences during what was supposed to be a relaxing week and a half off. I became upset, but quickly got over it and "dealt."

Losing my camera is another matter.

All the little things kept piling up, and this was just the icing on the cake. I've not yet given up on retrieving the camera, although I keep trying to convince myself that it's "just" a camera, that I've done without one before, that it's one among many items that I can do without, but that's not the point. For the lone, introverted traveler like myself, the camera (much like my journal) is an important tool for documentation. For memory.

I don't necessarily want to boast about where I've been, or what I've seen; I just want to remember.

It may be foolish to hope for its reappearance, magically or not. The friend I visited during this trip jokingly referred to karma, and despite being the skeptic that I am, I wonder if she may not be right. If luck has anything to do it with it, then mine's definitely been skewed.



(Image: From a mousepad available here)