MEETING NEIL GAIMAN (2005)

I originally wrote this in the old version of this blog in 2005. It was originally entitled “Beso-Beso with Neil Gaiman” but non-Filipinos wouldn’t understand that “beso-beso” means “air kiss”, or cheek kisses among friends, like the Europeans do. I’m glad I found this account again, because this was 14 years ago and I had forgotten some of the little details that made the meeting interesting.

Incidentally, the book “Melinda” never came to light; I wonder if I heard wrong or if it was rewritten with another title.

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Brandishing his Omas 1950s flexi-nib fountainpen, he signed in burgundy ink on the frontispiece of my “Brief Lives” graphic novel (Sandman Volume 7): “Mona, Sweet Dreams — Neil Gaiman.” A salesgirl took our photo (I made sure I brought my digital camera), but I won’t be posting it here; it’s for my secret delectation. I’m so glad I didn’t do anything stupid like burst into tears or freeze. In a tiny voice I managed to say, “Thanks for signing, Neil.” He smiled and said, “You’re welcome, Mona.” Then I bent down a bit to make beso beso, and to my surprise it wasn’t an air-kiss — he kissed my right cheek. (All the girls were doing it, so I figured I’d get in on the kissing action, hehehe.) As I straightened up again, clutching my book in a sort of daze, I realized how exceedingly tired he was. Poor guy. He looked like he hadn’t slept for weeks and sported massive eye luggage. But he was determined to accommodate as many fans as possible.

YES!!! YES!!! YES!!! I walked out the bookstore with a spring in my step and with a stupid grin on my face.

(In your mind picture me jumping up and down on Oprah’s yellow sofa a la the delirious Tom Cruise, and you can imagine how ridiculous it looks. Of course, I didn’t really do that. But I tell you, it felt so great to be so amply rewarded for waiting in line at Fully Booked Gateway for nearly six hours last Monday, on the last day of Neil’s signing tour in Manila.)

Neil is such a simpatico person; incredibly kind, patient and generous to all his fans. I suppose he was pleasantly surprised to realize his fan base in the Philippines was bigger than his publishers had originally thought. I guess he didn’t expect that thousands of fans would want to meet him (I heard some fans even travelled to Manila from as far away as Davao and Cebu). Last night I read his blog and he said he “never felt more loved by so many people”, that Pinoys were more enthusiastic than the Brazilians in expressing their cheer, and that he was thinking of returning again to Manila, perhaps in a couple of years or so.

I was number 480 in a line of just over 600 fans who heroically lined up. When I arrived at Gateway, the line began outside Fully Booked on the third floor and snaked down two flights of stairs to outside the Aurora Boulevard exit to the front of the nearest 7-11. I tell you, the sight of that line would have discouraged a less determined person. I just felt that getting Neil’s autograph would be worth it. For the first two hours the line stayed put and I had nothing to do but stare at the changing cloud patterns in the sliver of blue sky between the mall and the MRT. My friend Juned advised via text: “Imagine you’re back in UP enlisting for classes.”

Originally, rules stated that one had to buy a book from Fully Booked in order to get a signing pass. Later on they changed the rules, allowing people to bring any Gaiman book they owned for signing. Those who bought a book and got a signing pass were then entitled to have two books signed. This was a good idea, since most fans, like myself, had already bought books prior to the signing promo. Changing the rules meant that more people would participate, and that any marketing data they would gather from the signing promo would be more representative of Neil’s fan base.

Waiting in line can get interesting, though. Two college girls behind me were looking at Neil’s picture on the back cover of my graphic novel. Later, as we approached Neil’s table, they looked at him and back at the photo and whispered to each other: “He’s that lolo (grandfather)-looking guy? But he’s OLD!!!” I wanted to laugh; and then I felt my age. When Vertigo first published Sandman I was just out of college. I was young enough to have borrowed and read the comics when they first came out but couldn’t afford to buy them at the time. These two girls each had a paperback copy of “Stardust” which (apart from the paperback of “Coraline”) was among the more affordable Gaiman books in the market (roughly PhP 350). Two lawyers lined up just ahead of me were clutching hardbound graphic novels that cost nearly PhP 2000 each (One was the Sandman Dustcovers book and the other was Marvel’s latest release, “1602”.) I couldn’t help but overhear that one of them even bought a VHS tape box set of “Neverwhere” from the BBC when he was last in London. Normally I’d be secretly peeved if it sounded as if he was gloating about his purchase, but he sounded so happy to have bought it even if it was in PAL-SECAM format and not compatible with his player, I couldn’t begrudge him his glee.

The crowd kept their good humor, though. Several times as the line moved, we saw a good-looking young guy counting people in the line. He turned out to be named Jaime, and was apparently the manager of Fully Booked Gateway. I joked to the two girls behind me: “Sa kanya na lang kaya tayo magpa-sign? Cute pa naman siya.” (“Shall we have HIM sign our books instead? He’s cute.”) The two promptly developed a crush on him, entertaining themselves taking pictures of him with their camera phones. As for the two lawyers ahead of me, they joked that Bro. Eddie Villanueva could only get 2000 people to attend his people power rally, while everybody else would have preferred to wait in line for Neil Gaiman.

I guess for a lot of people meeting Neil Gaiman was a positive, life-defining moment. The last time I felt like this was when I had waited in line to get tickets for seats I wanted at the first Sting concert in Manila ten years ago. Of course my collection is far from complete, and Neil has two books still to be released, “Melinda” and “Anansi Boys.” And who knows? Maybe one day soon they’ll screen “Mirrormask” here. Or release it on DVD. Like many fans, I’ll be waiting.

In the meantime, I have introduced my mom to the pleasures of reading Neil Gaiman. (Really!)

FAREWELL, PRINCESS

When I was ten, I saw Star Wars (A New Hope) for the first time. I queued at the movie theater with my grandma. The moment I saw Princess Leia, I knew she was a different kind of princess: a feisty, kickass woman who would eventually lead a rebellion, a heroine for the ages.  She remains one of my favorite movie characters of all time.

Aside from playing Princess Leia, Carrie Fisher was also a successful screenwriter and memoirist, all the while battling bipolar disorder and drug addictions. She reminds us, “Youth and beauty are not accomplishments. They’re the temporary, happy by-products of time and/or DNA. Don’t hold your breath for either.”

Here’s a jazzy love theme to remember Carrie Fisher by, from the now-rare album, Empire Jazz, by Ron Carter.

Carrie, you deserve a standing ovation.  Thank you for being real.

Daily Prompt: Ovation

DINING AT BALE DUTUNG

When our American friend Tom said he’d finally visit the Philippines last August, Carlos immediately organized a trip to the province of Pampanga, complete with a ten-course lunch at Claude and Mary Ann Tayag’s restaurant, Bale Dutung.

“Bale Dutung” means “house of wood”.  If this house looks somewhat familiar, it’s because it was featured in Anthony Bourdain‘s Philippines episode on No Reservations.  Here’s the Pampanga clip on Youtube, showing artist and chef Claude Tayag‘s restaurant.

Mary Ann Tayag welcomed the seven of us warmly.  We had to call ahead and reserve, so the Tayags could put us together with another small group in order to make the 12-head minimum.  We chose the “Anthony Bourdain menu”, which referred to an all-Kapampangan lineup of dishes.  As each dish was served, Mary Ann would annotate, explaining the origins and flavors of each dish.

A salad of wild ferns and tomatoes topped with half a soft-boiled egg.

Grilled chicken buttons (it’s the behind, folks!) with brown rice.

Quail stewed in soy sauce, garlic and vinegar (adobo), with egg pan de sal.

Lechon (roast pork) taco.  Each diner is served only one ( in order for them to be able to appreciate the rest of the ten-course meal properly), but the fixings are buffet style.

Beef bone marrow.  You get a wooden popsicle stick to scoop out the delicious marrow with, plus a straw to help you get all the juices.

A thick guava-flavored soup called “bulanglang”, featuring “ulang” (large river prawns).  There’s a small serving of plain rice inside the banana leaf package.

Seafood kare-kare (a stew with peanut sauce).

The courses I didn’t photograph were the appetizers (crackers and three dips made of homemade herb pesto, “taba ng talangka” or crab fat, and “balao-balao” or fermented rice flavored with shrimps); the coffee and dessert (maja blanca with corn and young coconut).

The meal took us four hours to consume!  It was amazing how we could all still stand up at the end of it all.  Claude visited our table and signed the books we bought.  He and Mary Ann co-authored the book Linamnam, a regional food guide to the Philippines (Anvil Publishing, 2011).  Claude also styled Kulinarya (A Guidebook to Philippine Cuisine), by Glenda Rosales Barretto.

Was it worth it?  Foreign visitors and locals who aren’t too familiar with Pampanga cuisine (like myself) can definitely check this menu out.  Some of the dishes were known quantities with a distinctly Pampanga/Tayag twist.  Some, like the balao-balao dip and the guava-redolent bulanglang, were exotic. If that doesn’t strike your fancy, there are also other menus to choose from.  I truly enjoyed Mary Ann’s entertaining and informative spiels, and learned a lot about Pampanga’s rich history and culture through its food.

What to do after an afternoon of eating?  We decided we all wanted a richer dessert, and went all the way to Kabigting’s a few towns away in Arayat, for white halo-halo (with pastillas milk candy instead of ube jam)!

Thank you, Tom, for visiting the Philippines, because if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have thought of going on this Pampanga food tour!

ATTENBOROUGH AND THE FLYING SQUIRREL

In the late 70s, little girls usually stayed in school until their parents came to fetch them.  They would play Chinese garter/jump-rope games, patintero (a kind of tag) and show each other the contents of their Hello Kitty pencil cases.  My mom the Biology professor didn’t fetch me, because I was old enough to go home by myself.  We also happened to live only four blocks away.

Walking home was fun, more fun than walking to school in the morning.  I learned which flowers, when picked, had sweet dew in them that children sucked (I don’t know the names, but it was a red trumpet flower that grew in a bush on the way home).  I learned which hedges were the likely hiding places for pet spiders.  On certain days, I practically ran home, because Sir David Attenborough‘s BBC series Life On Earth would be showing on Channel 9.  Or it might be Jacques Cousteau, sharing yet another inner space adventure from his famous vessel The Calypso.  These two are the heroes of my imagination.

The other day I read in print and online news about Nepenthes attenboroughii, a newly discovered species of rat-eating giant pitcher plant unique to the Philippines. The rare pitcher plant was found on the island of Palawan, one of our last natural frontiers. The species was named by its discoverers after Attenborough, as a gesture of thanks for his lifelong career as a natural history filmmaker for the BBC.  His Life series (Life on Earth, The Living Planet, The Trials of Life) spanned from 1979 to 1990, which was most of my life in school!

One summer I was working as a student assistant at the UP Zoology Dept. where my mother was assistant to the Department Head.  She gave an exam for Natural Science 3 and asked me to proctor while she lectured in the next room.  One of the exam sections covered parallel evolution.  She had two columns listing animals, and instructed students to match scientifically unrelated animals that evolved similar physical characteristics, and to name the characteristic they shared.  The ones who’d listened to the lectures and read books had no problems answering the questions.

One guy, not particularly known for his studiousness, raised his hand.  “Miss, er, can you explain the two-column thing again?” I explained it according to the script my mother gave me, without giving too many of the answers away.  Then it transpired that he had no clue what some animals listed looked like.  Obviously he didn’t study.  A bit exasperated, I said, “My goodness, many of the answers were on tv last week!  Don’t you watch Life on Earth with David Attenborough? If you watched that show you would be able to answer this entire exam.”  While most of the class started giggling, many of the other students had their “Aha!” moment right after that remark and scrambled to make up for lost time.  The episode I was talking about showed and discussed the similarities between a bat and a flying squirrel.

The guy who didn’t study was (I think) the same guy who later used brilliantine pomade to protect his hands while dissecting a cat in my mother’s class for Comparative Anatomy.  Eventually I believe he became a doctor.  Now that I look back on it all I want to laugh at how prissy and supercilious I was as a proctor.  It didn’t occur to me that other kids preferred to spend their afternoons doing things other than watching BBC nature documentaries.  But I loved it then, the way I love the Discovery Channel and the National Geographic Channel now. In fact one day I want to order the Attenborough videos.

So now the Philippines has a link to David Attenborough.  Jacques Cousteau has a link with the Philippines, too – the Calypso docked here in the early 1990s when Cousteau was  investigating an underwater cave system in Palawan, before sinking in a storm off Singapore in 1996.  Imagine, two of my TV heroes, both linked to the country via Palawan.  How cool is that?  My sister, our friends and I mourned when Cousteau passed away in 1997.  We had decided to learn scuba diving because of him.  I no longer dive, but I still enjoy snorkelling.  The oceans still hold much fascination for me.

When I close my eyes I can see David Attenborough’s wildly windswept hair, and I can hear his voice, cultured yet emphatic.  He’d probably be walking on the beach in his chinos, barefoot, pointing at a horseshoe crab and examining the undersides, comparing it to trilobites.  Goodness, he must be in his mid-80s now.  Today we have a crop of extreme adventurer-naturalists, whom I think owe their inspiration in some part to his filmmaking.  They’re very entertaining right enough, but sometimes I do look for an enthusiastic but contemplative commentary from a naturalist who lets Nature be the star instead.