YOU DAMON!

So the LLDDL and I were walking through an upscale plaza after a family lunch, when a girl and two guys walked up to the LLDDL and made her an offer she couldn't refuse.

"Would you want to appear in a fashion magazine?" they ask.

"What took you so long?" she answered.

As with many girls, I suppose, the LLDDL had childhood dreams of walking runways, pouting for cameras, and otherwise developing eating disorders. So when she was approached for an impromptu photo shoot, she left treadmarks getting to her designated close-up spot.

I watched from the sidelines as the LLDDL absolutely LIT UP the camera, having great fun while she was at it.

It was such an enjoyable scene, I completely forgot to take a picture of it.

When the LLDD was through - after maybe 2 gigs worth of photos - the crew suddenly turned to me and asked "Would you want to appear too?"

well...

As with many boys, I suppose, the LLDD had childhood dreams of walking runways, pouting for cameras, and otherwise developing eating disorders. So when he was approached for an impromptu photo shoot ... how does "Atty. Zoolander, FSO IV" sound?

The LLDDL, being a better person than I, captured the moment for posterity. I didn't know exactly what I was doing, or what the guy with the car windshield reflector was for, but I think I did ok for a guy with chins in the multiple of threes.

Heck, I thought it was such a hoot I even tried a personal appearance trick they taught during cadetship where you fold your arms with palms outward and resting above the biceps (instead of underneath the armpits). I think we all agree . . . I look ridiculous.

Still, all in all, it was an ego-enriching experience. So it was just gravy when the very next day my cousin - who works in showbiz, mind you - texted my sister "Hey cuz! I just saw Oceans 13. Tell (me) he looks so much like Matt Damon! Cheers :)"

(head...swelling...chest...puffing...nostrils...flaring...)

To be honest, the LLDDL had mentioned an alleged resemblance long before my cousin texted, but I always thought she just wanted jewelry or something. My old office staff also said the same thing whenever they wanted me to approve their sick leaves. But this was the first time someone detached and impartial (and showbiz-y!) ever made the astute observation.

(BTW, I wonder what "Cat" makes of all this?)

When things subsided a bit - oh, about three weeks later - I immediately searched for an ideal Matt Damon pic for the blog masthead TO SUBTLY REMIND EVERYONE THAT SOME PEOPLE ACTUALLY THINK I RESEMBLE MATT DAMON. I could've picked one from the Ocean's trilogy, but thought Jason Bourne was a better fit because he goes from embassy to embassy and kicks ass.

POSTSCRIPT: There's still a chance we'll get to see how the LLDDL's shoot turned out. The photo crew remarked that she too looked like someone famous, i.e., the billionaire publisher of the magazine where our photos will (hopefully) appear. Judge for yourself:

The LLDDL

The Billionaire Publisher

I suppose being the lookalike of a billionaire publisher increases the LLDDL's chances of getting in a magazine, but it might also increase the risk of her getting kidnapped or something.

Of course, she could always call on Jason Bourne to rescue her.

IT'S WEDNESDAY, I MUST BE IN CHONGQING

OK, this was different.

Chongqing broke the mold of the Chinese cities that I’ve come to know. Instead of a flat grid layout, the whole city was unevenly built on steep slopes and ridges; instead of extensive landscaping, you had naturally lush countryside; instead of straight avenues and cross-streets, you got roads winding up and down and up hills; instead of an eye-level river peacefully running through the city center, you had a very deep dissecting valley, tamed only by a really high curving bridge, reminiscent of the one carrying the Hogwarts Express.

(I really gotta read more. These literary references are really lame)

It was just a shame that Chongqing was wrapped in rain and mist while we were there. In fact, there was a scheduled nighttime viewing of the city from a mountaintop platform that had to be cancelled because of poor visibility. I checked the internet, and we missed out on something spectacular. Darn. If only they placed those Chengdu hotel heated bathroom mirrors outdoors.

Some random observations

* They love dem their mah jong in Chongqing. Seemed like every other street shop had a game going.

* One thing Chongqing has in common with other Chinese cities: condos! Lots and lots and lots and lots of not-yet-finished-and-occupied condos! Housing boom? Try housing . . . umm . . . really BIG boom! (must . . . read . . . more)

*Considering China has one billion plus people, and Chongqing is one of the fastest growing cities in the world, the place – save for the downtown area – seems really roomy. As in there-must-be-one-condo-tower-for-every-person-you-see-on-the-street roomy (or everyone could just be inside playing mah jong).

Kinda looks like Manhattan, doesn't it? It actually reminds me of the scene in the Godzilla remake where the monster first comes out and attacks the New York fishermen.

Condos as far as the eye could see. Condos that lined the highway all the way from the far-flung airport to the city center. Condos so large they don't fit in my camera frame.

On the other hand, there was this strange sight. This skyscraper was on top of the tallest hill, with nothing else anywhere near it. It was like the architect was trying to test the storm gods and the "if-you-build-it-they-will-come" principle at the same time.

About the only building I saw with traditional architecture (well, to be more accurate, about the only building I saw from my hotel with traditional architecture)

Fortune Teller row. I had a bad experience with one once in Hong Kong. She told me I'd become rich someday because I had a big nose, then took out a ratty old book that showed famous rich people with big noses, such as Jimmy Durante.

Three things certain in life: death, taxes, and no matter where or how far you travel, your hotel will have a Filipina band.

Finally, while Chongqing people were very nice, there was this...um..."animated" woman at our hotel lobby. She carried on for more than 30 minutes. In hindsight, it her stamina was pretty impressive.

IT'S TUESDAY, I MUST BE IN CHENGDU

Yes! The travel cold-streak is over! I get to go back to the land of deep, profound meaning to the LLDDL… ShoeMart!

Well, to be more accurate, Chengdu. But it had a ShoeMart! And, of course, the PhilDel had to make a pilgrimage there (because, as you know, there are so few SM’s in the Philippines).

Actually, I didn’t get to go to the ShoeMart photo-op, nor get to see much of the city because of the very tight work schedule. Fortunately, Chengdu had the same just-out-of-the-box feel of the other Chinese cities that I went through the last time I visited (except Guilin, which was Tolkienesque). In fact, to save me the effort, lemme just copy and paste what I wrote during my previous trip:

"All the cities we passed through were up-and-comers, showing signs of rapid transition from rural past to modern present. You always start from a remote airport, take a new expressway through some farmlands, get lulled by some modest buildings and housing en route, then, without so much as a highway off-ramp, you find your road has cut through the city center. and you're now completely surrounded on all sides by high-rises, condos and convention centers. Seriously, you feel like an entire large city had tiptoed behind your car, tapped on the window, then yelled "SURPRISE!". And know this about Chinese cities...whether its on their buildings, their bridges or their road railings: they sure love their multicolored neon trimming."

Sounds about right.

PLACE KINDA REMINDS ME OF: Nanning, which reminded me of Nanchang, which kinda looked like Xiamen.

I like this shot. It's the VIP table for the official luncheon, but looks like an elaborate wedding cake from the balcony. Those gray seats at the outermost ring are for the translators (or, as we like to call them, "The Minister Whisperers")

Well, I'll be! The hotel got dem one of dem heated bathroom mirror thingies that don't fog up in the center! (they were very practical, but it was a bit startling to step out of the shower and see a perfectly clear rectangle in the middle of a steamy bathroom, like someone was just in there and wiped the mirror. It felt like that urban legend where you turn off the bedroom light and see glow-in-the-dark "I'm in the house" lettering on the ceiling)

Sound advice

(click on the picture to see the full message)

BACK-TO-SCHOOL

No, I’m not talking about the return of Roy Hibbert (hey-brr-t! hey-brr-t!) to Georgetown for his senior year, although that’s most welcome.

(Jeff Green, on the other hand, goes out like a punk)

I’m talking about something as pointless – but far less entertaining – as “Tommy Lee Goes Back to College”.

I’m talking “The LLDD is Made to Go Back to Cadetship.”

Flashback to January 2006. It’s supposed to be the last day of my batch’s six-month long cadetship. A public ceremony is arranged. Senior Officials are invited. Parents have cameras at the ready.

So what happens? The new head of the “Institution” – who up to that point had never met or talked to the batch - takes the stage to proudly announce that 75% of the batch ain’t graduating.

Including moi.

Seems there’s this minimum attendance requirement that most of my batch missed. You have to be present at least 80% of the time per module, or you don’t get a certificate of completion.

Fair enough, except: (a) some modules were as short as 3 days, so if you happen to be absent for just one day, it’s mathematically impossible to reach 80% for that module; (b) no consideration was made for sickness, emergencies, or even official work assignments; (c) the “Institution” let the rule slide in previous years, including for a couple of officers who have since been promoted.

I fell under “(d) all of the above.” I was absent just one day out of the entire six-month cadetship to stay at a hospital overnight, and had been a model cadet up to that point. Many other batchmates had similar legitimate reasons for missing some classes: their wedding day, an ill wife, an appendectomy, urgent work for the Department itself.

But noooooooooooo……….

Not only were we not excused, we were put down in public for it. At our very own graduation, we were told we were “arrogant”, we were “shameful” and – my favorite – we had "low E.Q.”

(because, as everyone knows, when you think of having an appendectomy, you think “how might this affect my E.Q. score?”)

But life had to go on, so certification of completion or not, the batch had to report for duty the following day to our respective office assignments. There – if I may say so myself – we did a damn fine job and got called up to do some of the most substantive and important work for the Department.

Meanwhile, the “Institution” went on to pick-and-choose when to invoke our non-graduation for purposes of withholding perks like scholarships, travel assignments and postings. Some of my batchmates who didn’t graduate were able to attend prestigious events and/or get posted (and we absolutely couldn’t be happier for them), while others had their travel requests denied solely because they lacked a certificate of completion. In other words, the non-graduation thing was held over our heads for the past year, and would continue to be held over our heads until we re-took the module we missed.

To recap for those keeping score, the batch was qualified and competent enough to hold essential positions and carry out vital functions within the Department, but still needed to attend a classroom lecture to provide an overview of those same essential positions and vital functions that we already held and carried out over the past year.

But wait, there’s more.

The module that I needed to do-over was conference diplomacy, or basically how to organize a successful meeting. My fellow re-takers from the batch included: the Director of the Busiest Frontline Office in the Department; the Deputy of the Organizer of the Entire ASEAN Summit; and the Presidential Protocol Officer who’s worked in Malacañang for more than 25 years and personally served five Presidents.

Slackers! Ne’er-do-wells! What a buncha bums! You can’t possibly know anything about conference management! Not without this PowerPoint presentation you have to sit through!

Anyway, that’s my fate for one week. I’m sitting in the cadetship of the new batch of officers, and I’ve decided to rip-off other blogs and keep a running diary throughout the module. If the entries seem unexciting and unnecessary, well, you must have low E.Q. too.


Day 1

9:00 (sharp) – “Conference” is defined. And we’re off!

9:15 – The speaker seems a bit strict. I’m told by the new officers that he’s already gotten upset during earlier lectures at people who looked at him funny or sat in their chair wrong. I must admit, I’m nervous.

9:40 - We discuss what a “Non-Paper” is. I always giggle at these foreign service oxymorons, like “Note Verbale” and “Chair of the Standing Committee”.

10:05 – I feel a bit stiff, so I try to cross my legs and – nooooooo! the speaker sees me mid-cross! He’s gonna call me!

10:06 – Phew! The Speaker tells me my answer is “partially correct.” It’s like checking into a game, getting fouled hard, and splitting free throws. I can live with that.

10:17 – The G-77 is made up of 134 countries. Of course it is.

10:45 - The module’s first ever coffee break! I used to love these! My batchmates would all race to the cadets’ lounge and check our fantasy teams and, depending on the day's results, would or would not go back to class on time (or, at all).

11:15 - Session resumes. The speaker says something along the lines “Before, diplomacy was done by aristocracy. Now, any hoi polloi with a brain can do it, even without the breeding.” So there.

11:30 – Briefing begins on our Simulation Exercise for this module. We’re having . . . a Mock U.N. Conference! Just like grade school!

11:45 - Oops! Got caught talking across the room with my batchmate and Director of the Busiest Frontline Office in the Department. We both get shushed by the speaker. Fair enough but …

11:46 – …he goes on to say something about cadetship being handed on a silver platter, and calls out my batchmate for not having a certificate of completion. I had 10:30 in the office pool for when someone would bring out our non-graduation during class.

12:00 – Break for lunch. It’s not as much fun as before, because now I have to go back up to my office to work on the things that have piled on my desk while I’m attending this module.

1:30 – And we’re back. The new speaker for the afternoon is more factual and straightforward. Very procedural and wonky, and yet not boring to me. I need a life.

2:15 – Apparently this actually happens in international conferences: Country A makes a statement disparaging its nemesis Country B. Country B invokes its Right of Reply, but sends its most junior officer to speak so as to demean the significance of Country A. Hehehe. I think that’s great. My new life ambition is to be that junior officer who demeans everyone by his mere presence.

2:47 – There really is such a thing as an amendment to the amendment to the amendment to the amendment.

3:15 – We end early! Woo-hoo!! Now I can go out and . . . oh, I forgot. I have real work now. Dammit. Cadetship isn’t fun anymore. And I have three more days of this. (grumble)

Day Two

9:00 – The speaker for the morning, a senior official at the Department, recognizes me and my batchmates. He immediately says my batchmate, The Deputy of the Organizer of the Entire ASEAN Summit, could give the lecture herself. Haughty smirks from me and my batchmates. Good start to the day.

10:08 – Lecture turns into more of a Q and A. We might finish this lecture early as well. If we do, do I tell my office upstairs?

10:09 – Naaah.

10:23 – The speaker now asks us questions. He wonders aloud why my batch doesn’t apply for the scholarships available within the Department. Heck, he’s imploring my batch to apply for the scholarships, saying this is the best thing we can do for ourselves and the Department. He even names the exact scholarship that some of my other batchmates applied for but were denied because of their non-graduation. My batchmate re-takers in the room all move from haughty smirk to mocking cackle. The “Institution” can’t be enjoying this.

10:37 – Yep. Finished early again. Back in the day, we’d head straight to the mall and open the moviehouses. Now … sigh.

1:25 - The next speaker is The Organizer of the Entire ASEAN Summit herself. She sees me and my batchmate re-takers and asks – audible to the "Institution" and to everyone else – “Why are you here?” Our mocking cackle is now an outright evil chortle.

3:56 – The speaker describes the goosebump moment when she first uttered the words “On behalf of my country, our position is …” Now I’m torn. I want to someday say those words, but I don’t want to give up my lifelong dream of being a demeaning junior officer.

4:30 – That went by fast. The speaker was very good. No wonder she’s The Organizer of the Entire ASEAN Summit.

Day 3

(for private – but valid – reasons, I have to skip out parts of the morning lecture. I realize I’m tempting fate here, and might end up having to take this module a third time)

1:00 – Back in time for the full afternoon session. Movies! Well, no, actually, just a DVD showing of the ASEAN summit. Still, very cool to see how well the summit events look on film. If only there were commentaries on how things were behind the scenes.

1:01 – Oh, wait. That’s the whole agenda for the afternoon. War stories from those who were actually on the ground at the summit. I really should read the module program. Carry on.

2:10 – I knew it! The summit was postponed in December because of the weather, and the weather only! I . . . TOLD … YOU … SO!!! (doing a little happy dance)

3:25 – Ah, Summit war stories. Can’t get enough of them. I wish one of the panel would ask me to share my summit experiences with the class. It mean, it seems a bit unbecoming if I have to promote my blog in front of everyone without prompting. Just ask me already. I’m a good speaker.

4:00 - So close. Volunteered to tell a great story relevant to the discussion, but it involved someone else in the room, who refused to let me share it. It would have killed. So very close.

4:30 – Session ends without me getting to talk. Maybe Letterman will have me.

Day 4

9:00 – Simulation day! We get to fake it!

9:01 - I immediately notice that only me and my batchmate re-takers are dressed in formal conference-appropriate attire. Seems the new batch of officers pulled a prank on us. Well played.

9:10 – Election of conference officers. Even though I represent a prosperous, developed country, and there are four vice-chairmanships, I don’t get picked for anything. Just like high school.

9:19 – In school, you signal you want to say something by raising your hand. In international conferences, you signal by placing your country nameplate in a vertical position (picture). More dignity and less display of arm flab that way.

9:48 - Everyone reads the country statements they prepared. I must say, I’m impressed. Quality work from everyone (although the 3-minute limit means many didn’t stop for breath through their statement).

10:51 – Hehehe After nearly two hours of discussions, turns out no one is sure what the mock conference is really about. Are we cutting carbon emissions, or are we reducing oil consumption?

10:52 – Someone makes the brilliant suggestion that we read the title of the mock conference. The mock conference has a title?

10:53 – Yep. “The Manila Conference on the Reduction of Carbon Emissions”. There you go.

10:59 - So of course, the speaker says we should work on a draft declaration to reduce oil consumption.

11:00 – Sad part is, this is how things are done in real conferences.

11:45 – Speaker tells us we now have to work things out on our own. He’ll be back at 2:30, and we better have something.

12:00 – Naturally, with such high stakes and limited time, my batchmates head to McDonald’s for lunch. We’ll be back at 1:00. Hard to save the world on an empty stomach.

1:00 – We come back to find negotiations started without us. Just as well. I’m still bitter about not getting elected to anything.

1:32 – I like this batch of new officers. Their comments are in point, they’re polite yet firm, and they stay in character. Makes for lively negotiations. My batch, on the other hand, basically dropped their country hats the moment the speaker went out the door, gave drafting chores to the one who came in late, then all took a nap.

2:06 – Hmmm….this is turning into a not-as-good version of “Lord of the Flies”, or a dull episode of “The Apprentice.” Everyone has an opinion, but we’re not getting any closer to an agreed text. But I’m not giving up hope. I bet things all fall into place around 2:29, when everyone realizes the speaker will be coming back at any moment. Let’s see if anyone hangs on to any principles then.

2:29 – Viola! Negotiated agreement reached! Unbending principled stance, what unbending principled stance?

3:05 – Speaker goes over what we made line by line. A quibble here and there, but otherwise, I think we passed.

3:33 – Yep. Good enough. Handshakes and back-slapping all around. We just solved global warming.

3:34 – Well, no, not really.

3:58 – A big deal is made that The Deputy of the Organizer of the Entire ASEAN Summit and I have completed this module and have therefore concluded our cadetship. We receive our certificates of completion - which misleadingly states that our cadetship took a year-and-a-half to finish - and are told we are now eligible for foreign assignments.

4:00 – Chortle