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Before I forget, two people from our annual “Did You Know They Were Pinoy?” list have been nominated for Oscars: Hailee Steinfeld (A reader pointed out that she is of Filipino descent) for Best Supporting Actress for her performance in True Grit, and Matthew Libatique for Best Cinematography for his work on The Black Swan. We’re trying to get interviews with both of them, will keep you posted.

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At the Nokia lunch yesterday Philstar business columnist Wilson Lee Flores pointed out the number of bus-related disasters during the Noynoy Aquino presidency.

Buses falling off cliffs.

Buses crashing into cars.

Buses in bloody hostage dramas.

Buses blowing up on the highway.

“Do you know why?” Wilson said.

“Why?” I asked stupidly.

“Because in his inaugural speech P-noy said, Kayo ang bus ko.” Har har. Just read his column.

There’s something about the season of peace on earth and goodwill to all men that brings out the worst in people. So I knew traffic would be hell and the taxi situation impossible. There’s some comfort in being right.

I needed prescription lenses for my new frames so I went to see my optometrist Nella Sarabia at UP Shopping Center. (Incidentally if you are in desperate need of signed copies of Twisted 9 and 8 1/2 they are available at Nella’s shop. Her number is 4355685.) My appointment took ten minutes; getting out of UP Diliman took over an hour. After waiting outside the shopping center for several minutes I figured I’d have as much chance of getting a cab if I walked around the campus as I did just standing there and getting bored.

So I took a walk. A long walk. I remembered Jon’s advice and ate a banana-Q before setting out (I didn’t have breakfast and it was past 3pm.) The campus felt abandoned (the Lantern Parade was held the previous day), the foliage was lush, the weather my favorite kind—cool and gloomy. I don’t know how long I walked, but I finished listening to Avalon by Roxy Music and half of Pirates by Rickie Lee Jones (I picked those two because I listened to them constantly in school). At “Traces of the Western Slopes” a taxi appeared, and the driver agreed to take me to Cubao Expo where I was meeting Noel.

By the time I got to Cubao I was famished so I went to Bellini’s, which is owned by the ex-paparazzo from Pisa, Roberto Bellini. Mr. Bellini is so vivacious he is sometimes asked if he starred in Life Is Beautiful (Roberto Benigni). “What will you have!” he cried. “What have you got!” I replied. “Fresh fettucini with clams in tomato sauce!” he said. “I’ll take it!”

The fettucini was excellent. I mopped up the remaining sauce with fresh foccacia, then I had a slice of Bellini’s classic orange cake and an espresso. Mr. Bellini reminded me that I had been going to their restaurant since they opened in 1999. “This is on me!” he announced. Good as my meal was, it tasted even better afterwards because it was free.

Mr. Bellini

Noel had had to cram into the MRT to get to Cubao. There was this cranky guy by the door of the train car, and every time someone came in he said, “Bakit ka nakikipagsiksikan?” as if the passengers had a choice.

We found presents for our friends in Cubao Expo, then steeled ourselves for the MRT ride back to Makati. But then a taxi materialized in front of us, and the driver overcharged but we figured it was worth it.

After dinner we had cake and coffee at our friend’s new apartment, and the view made us forget how tired we were.

GOOD has this infographic of the cities with the most frustrating traffic problems. Manila was not included in the study, but I’m guessing that on the pain index we’re somewhere between New Delhi and Montreal. Though our drivers would probably claim Beijing-level aggravation, just to top the survey.

The 2010 IBM Global Commuter Pain Study

I do not take the bus. Buses bring out my natural paranoia. I’m worried that the bus will get mugged. Also, I always fall asleep on the bus and I might miss my stop. Most of all I fear that the perceived lack of discipline among Metro Manila motorists is not so much unruliness and a lack of consideration for others as a basic ignorance of traffic rules. The number one traffic violators are bus drivers; traffic violations lead to accidents.

My bus-related anxiety may seem irrational, but in the last few weeks it’s been entirely justified. There used to be a bus service inside the UP Diliman campus, but the bus company’s permit was revoked because the speeding DM buses had figured in several accidents. We took to calling them Death Machines.

That’s what buses have been lately: Death Machines. If they’re not falling into ravines, killing dozens of passengers, they’re crashing into cars, killing beauty queens, or getting involved in bloody hostage dramas (which is not their fault but there it is), or as one irate texter to an AM radio show pointed out, causing Miss Philippines to lose the Miss Universe pageant. (Hindi tuloy makapag-isip si Venus dahil sa lintik na hostage dramang yan! She couldn’t think straight because of that bloody hostage drama!)

Taxis aren’t much safer, either. Do you get the feeling that a lot of today’s cabbies arrived in Manila yesterday and learned to drive a car this morning? Today I hailed a cab along Ortigas Avenue and told the driver to take me to Rockwell. He said, Where is that? I gave him directions, and that’s when I noticed the driver. He looked like the novelty singer Vincent Daffalong circa 1988 with a mullet, if Vincent Daffalong had been buried for a week and then exhumed.

Where is Edsa? he asked. If a cabbie asks you where Edsa is, you should immediately get out. Even if you have the patience to guide the taxi, the driver’s lack of familiarity with our congested streets increases the probability of accidents. I said, Turn right at Julia Vargas, then go to Shaw. At Shaw I kept saying Turn right! Turn right! but he waited until the light had changed and then turned right, and then the cops stopped us and the driver had no idea what he’d done wrong.

Now cops—there’s another current cause of anxiety. Between the cops accused of torturing suspects and the cops who force-feed meth to traffic violators and the cops who take tour buses hostage, we don’t want to go near any cops at the moment. This traffic cop seemed nice, he was doing his job and declining the bribe openly offered by the cabbie. As in, Magkano ba? How much? It turns out the cabbie didn’t have his license because he’d already been stopped for another traffic violation this week. That’s when I decided to get out of the cab, and when I paid the fare the cabbie said, You’re leaving? Why?

Panoramic photos by banahawtext.

At noon I was sitting in a taxi, effectively held hostage by radio coverage of that hostage-taking incident.

According to the breathless radio reporters, a former police officer had taken a busload of tourists hostage. At first the hostages were thought to be Korean; later they were revealed to be from Hong Kong.

Apparently the former officer had been dismissed on corruption charges. He demanded that the Sandiganbayan decision be rescinded and that he be reinstated with back pay. And to prove his innocence, he took 25 people hostage.

Was he never required to take an IQ test at some point in his career?

Update, 2048hrs. And yet he managed to hold off dozens of police rescuers and SWAT, advancing retreating advancing retreating with no apparent strategy. They make the hostage-taker look smart and gallant.

According to a newsanchor: Good news! Some of the hostages survived!

Earlier the Palace announced: The Philippine situation is stable despite the hostage taking!

And the media was given total access to police movements, so everything the police did was broadcast live on television for the hostage-taker to watch on the TV inside the bus. Surprise!

IQ tests all around.

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William Blake, Satan inflicts boils on Job

I remembered how a few months ago I got a strange (-er than usual) text message from my friend Maricon, who was in a taxi. Without any prodding, the taxi driver had started telling Maricon the story of his life, particularly his experiences as a member of a satanic cult. He started talking faster and faster, as if he were speaking in tongues or something. I told Maricon to record the rant on his phone, and he did. I’d been meaning to transcribe the rant, but you should hear it to believe it.

The cult even had a nickname for Satan: they called him Taning. Apparently prayer groups also use that nickname. It almost sounds like a term of endearment. Hah! John Milton never thought of that.

Here’s the mp3. This is part 1. Warning: May freak out some listeners.

Taning1(0)

Greek statues, the British Museum, June 2010.

So Charice Pempengco went and got botoxed in order to change the shape of her naturally round face, said her cosmetic dermatologist Vicki Belo, although a later statement from the singer’s rep said the injection was not for cosmetic purposes but for the treatment of lower jaw pain.

While wading through Edsa traffic this afternoon we wondered aloud what Oprah—who has been instrumental in the rise of Charice—has to say about the botox incident.

– Should she read Vicki Belo the riot act for subjecting someone so young to this procedure and possibly dooming her to a lifetime of cosmetic surgery addiction?

– If Oprah does, then she would be acknowledging her awareness of Vicki Belo and her clinics…

– And if Oprah is angry then she would be setting up Dr Belo as a nemesis or even someone who occupies the same level of fame as Oprah…

– And that would be the best possible advertisement for the Belo clinics.

Ah.

Earlier post on Charice: I hadn’t realized the Philippines was in Scandinavia.