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This is the last set of entries eligible to win a round-trip ticket to any Tigerair domestic destination in this month’s Tiger Traveller: Heritage Sites of the Philippines photo contest.

The winner will be announced on Thursday.

Balay Dr. Niere by Kristina Cassandra T. Santos
“Built in 1928 during the American occupation, the Balay Dr. Dionisio Niere belonged to the first Doctor of Medicine of Boljoon. During the Second World War, this house was used as headquarters for the Japanese Imperial Army. It is now part of the popular Boljoon Heritage Trail.” Taken December 28, 2011 with a Canon 550D (18-55mm)

San Juanico Bridge at dusk by Norman Jay V. Avena. Taken at the Leyte-Samar border, October 2009 with a Nikon D80.

Baclayon Church by Kiko Untalan
Taken inside the Baclayon church in May 2009 using the missus’s Nikon D90 camera. With 15 family members, we visited the church during our 3 day summer tour of Bohol. Of the several hundred photos I took during that trip, this is my favorite.

The Rice Terraces of Batad by Michael Vincent Mercado
Taken December 2012 in Brgy. Batad, Banaue, Ifugao with a Canon EOS Kiss X4. Walking along the narrow paths of the 2000-year-old rice terraces requires calculated steps and great balance. Something that the natives do not have problems with. What they struggle with however, is the decreasing interest in agriculture among the young.

Portico of Baclayon Church by Jeffrey Catha Viri
Baclayon Church in Bohol was founded in 1596. Its portico is the focal point of its interiors. Taken September 6, 2009 with a Sony Cybershot DSC-TX10.

Binondo Church by Allan Jay Quesada. Taken March 28, 2013 with a Nikon D5100

Calle Crisologo, Vigan by Allan Jay Quesada
“Calle Crisologo is packed with well-preserved Bahay na Bato. The street’s cobblestone finish is intact as well. Along the calle, calesas are also available for hire.” Taken May 21, 2012 with a Nikon D5100

Boljoon Church by Kristina Cassandra T. Santos.
“Established in 1692, it is the oldest remaining original stone church in Cebu. In 1999, the National Historical Institute declared it a National Historical Landmark.”Taken December 28, 2011 with a Canon 550D (18-55mm)

Immaculate Conception Cathedral in Puerto Princesa, Palawan by Allan Jay Quesada. Taken June 27, 2012 with a Nikon D5100

This contest is sponsored by Tigerair Philippines. To find out more about Tigerair deals and promos, follow TigerAir Philippines on Facebook and Twitter.

The actor Philip Seymour Hoffman was found dead in his New York apartment on Sunday morning of an apparent drug overdose, according to a law enforcement official who requested anonymity because he was not certain the actor’s family had been informed of the death.

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And remember to be honest and unmerciful.

The typical Puregold supermarket

Generally we hate domestic chores and do them only because we have no choice (The litterbox must be cleaned lest it turn into some new biological warfare agent), but we have always enjoyed doing the groceries. It’s not so much a chore as an anthropological expedition: we learn not just what things cost (Fancy Feast costs Php42.75 a can??), but what new products have been developed to meet market demands (People need calcium and fiber but don’t have time to prepare their own food. Voila: Oishi Oaties, milk with oats in tetrapaks), and how current trends affect manufacturing (Environmentalism and the emphasis on well-being equals more natural/organic products). Yes, it’s more fun being a nerd.

We tend to shop at whatever supermarket is closest to our house, but we’re always curious about what other stores carry. Our friends have recommended S&R for its vast selection of merchandise, but we don’t need to shop in bulk (the pack of 24 rolls of toilet paper would not fit in our cabinets), plus we can’t have too much food in the house because we will consume everything even if we’re not hungry.

The new Puregold Fairview Terraces in QC

Last week we were invited to check out the new Puregold supermarket at Fairview Terraces in QC. That’s practically cross-country from Makati, but we decided to make a field trip of it. (Make sure you are in a car with people who know all the showbiz chismis. We got all the news, hearsay and speculation on the Vhong Navarro incident.) We’ve never shopped at Puregold, but we hear that their prices are lower than their competitors’. More importantly, we were told that they had ample stocks of cat food and kitty litter.

Fairview Terraces is the new Ayala mall in Quezon City, and Puregold Fairview Terraces is the first mid-market outlet of the top supermarket chain the country.

The supermarket is shiny, brightly-lit, and welcoming, with broad aisles so you don’t accidentally run over people’s feet with your shopping cart.

There is a well-stocked Health and Nutrition section with vitamins, supplements, over-the-counter medications.

And speaking of self-medicating, a fairly impressive liquor section.

As promised, there is cat food and kitty litter. Just the basics for now, but we were assured that their range of pet supplies will grow.

The prices are lower than those of the two supermarkets we shop in. We have a personal price index for supermarkets, based on the retail cost of Palm Corned Beef. Puregold’s price is Php157.55 a can; we’ll check the other supermarkets’ prices this week.

Update: The Palm Corned Beef Price Index:
Puregold: Php157.55
Rustan’s: Php168 (But they’ve never claimed to have the lowest prices)
SM Supermarket (Thanks, wangbumaximus21): Php170-175

Human Nature products used to be available only from dealers; we’re pleased to note that supermarkets now carry them. The Human Nature shelf at Puregold Fairview Terraces is stocked with the latest from the 100% No harmful chemicals brand, including 500ml pump bottles of moisturizer with no synthetic fragrances (Yay, no headaches).

If we had actual cooking skills, we would probably be impressed at the assortment of fresh produce.

Mission accomplished: Cat supplies for the whole month.

And the field trip was educational: we haven’t been north of Tomas Morato Street for so long, we just found out that the UP Integrated School campus is now the UP Town Center. Our friends graduated from a shopping mall, haha.

If Puregold opens in our neighborhood, we would totally shop there. They do have a humongous branch near our sister’s house, so we’ve convinced her to do the groceries with us.

“Proustian” on a back cover blurb is not necessarily an adjective that makes us buy the book. It is a word of caution: “How far did you get into Swann’s Way the last time you resolved to read Proust?” (3 chapters, a record) We admire Proust, we know he is an important writer, but as King of the Doorstops he demands greater commitment than we can give at this point. (In Russian doorstops, at least, there’s always someone having a psychotic fugue.)

Half-convinced by the rapturous reviews for My Struggle, Book One by the Norwegian Karl Ove Knausgaard (English translation by Don Bartlett—we don’t know Norwegian, but the English version is awesome), we read the first page.

And could not stop reading. Nothing earth-shaking happens: there is something almost generic about Karl Ove’s life (this is an autobiography). Karl Ove is a kid in the 80s. He lives with his parents. His father is scary. Karl eats sandwiches.

Digression: What is it with Scandinavian novels and sandwiches?! Girl With Dragon Tattoo is packed with sandwiches and corpses—at the third description of the sandwich-making process we hurled it at the wall. Fine, we haven’t read many Scandinavians. Except for the sagas in Comp Lit, and Burnt Njal. (Why was it called Burnt Njal? Because they burned Njal.) Suddenly our hatred for the horrid old crone who taught that survey course flares up again. We survived her class by imagining a trap door opening under her desk so she could descend into hell and torment Satan for a change.

Karl watches TV. Karl listens to bands and makes mix tapes. Karl gets an older kid to buy beer for a party and hides it from his father. He has a crush on a girl. It’s all very commonplace: under different circumstances this book would’ve been hurled at a wall. But the writing! Powerful, intense, precise, relentlessly readable.

* * * * *
First paragraphs:

For the heart, life is simple: it beats for as long as it can. Then it stops. Sooner or later, one day, this pounding action will cease of its own accord, and the blood will begin to run towards the body’s lowest point, where it will collect in a small pool, visible from outside as a dark, soft patch on ever whitening skin, as the temperature sinks, the limbs stiffen and the intestines drain. These changes in the first hours occur so slowly and take place with such inexorability that there is something almost ritualistic about them, as though life capitulates according to specific rules, a kind of gentleman’s agreement to which the representatives of death also adhere, inasmuch as they always wait until life has retreated before they launch their invasion of the new landscape. By which point, however, the invasion is irrevocable. The enormous hordes of bacteria that begin to infiltrate the body’s innards cannot be halted. Had they but tried a few hours earlier, they would have met with immediate resistance; however everything around them is quiet now, as they delve deeper and deeper into the moist darkness. They advance on the Havers Channels, the Crypts of Lieberkühn, the Isles of Langerhans. They proceed to Bowman’s Capsule in the Renes, Clark’s Column in the Spinalis, the black substance in the Mesencephalon. And they arrive at the heart. As yet, it is intact, but deprived of the activity to which end its whole construction has been designed, there is something strangely desolate about it, like a production plant that workers have been forced to flee in haste, or so it appears, the stationary vehicles shining yellow against the darkness of the forest, the huts deserted, a line of fully loaded cable- buckets stretching up the hillside.

The moment life departs the body, it belongs to death. At one with lamps, suitcases, carpets, door handles, windows. Fields, marshes, streams, mountains, clouds, the sky. None of these is alien to us. We are constantly surrounded by objects and phenomena from the realm of death. Nonetheless, there are few things that arouse in us greater distaste than to a see a human being caught up in it, at least if we are to judge by the efforts we make to keep corpses out of sight. In larger hospitals they are not only hidden away in discrete, inaccessible rooms, even the pathways there are concealed, with their own elevators and basement corridors, and should you stumble upon one of them, the dead bodies being wheeled by are always covered. When they have to be transported from the hospital it is through a dedicated exit, into vehicles with tinted glass; in the church grounds there is a separate, windowless room for them; during the funeral ceremony they lie in closed coffins until they are lowered into the earth or cremated in the oven. It is hard to imagine what practical purpose this procedure might serve.