IN MY HUMBLE ORGANIZATION

My bro-in-law has long insisted that there's an SNL sketch of diplomats at a dinner party saying nothing but "please pass the cocktail shrimp". Now, I've never been able to find a clip of that sketch, and even if I did, I'd probably find it too absurd a premise to be funny.

That is, until I went to 15 diplomatic receptions. In three days.

No, really.

See, the Philippines was a candidate to be on the council of a large, important London-based multilateral group I'll call "IMHO" (actually, that's not too far from the group's real name, if said in a kapangpangan accent ), and faced stiff competition from 25 other countries. The campaigning was hard, frenzied and, yes, involved a LOT of receptions and cocktail shrimp. Here's what I remember of it:

** To sit on the council of IMHO is a pretty big deal, so it was no surprise that many candidate countries brought in dozens of additional top gun diplomats, officials and personalities from their capitals. The Philippines, on the other hand, only had a handful of people - most of whom were already from the Embassy - who brought with them nothing but the merits of their country, the smiles on their faces, and a song in their hearts.

Like "Glee", but with dark suits

** The big campaign to-do for most countries was the hosting of a diplomatic reception to get the word out on their candidacy and to publicly seek the support of the other nations in attendance. Again, the Philippines passed on holding a similar large-scale event for this election, and instead relied on a scrappy, grassroots person-to-person campaign (and if you think I wasn't totally OK with this strategy because it would give me a chance to pretend I was part of an "insignificant band of rebels" going up against the mighty Empire and hum the Star Wars theme as I entered every reception -- then you just don't know me that well)

** Speaking of pretend, you might be wondering if going inside another country's embassy for a reception is a little like a James Bond/Mission Impossible movie. The answer is no, it is not; it is A LOT like a James Bond/Mission Impossible movie! Ok, there were no guard dogs patrolling the lawns (most embassies in London don't even have lawns; expensive real estate and all that), and you don't first enter the grounds in a scuba wetsuit that you unzip to reveal a barong inside (are you kidding? malulukot!). But just like in the movies, embassy interiors and ambience are very intriguing, reception guestlists are compelling, and conversations are martini-aided. I honestly wanted to accidentally get lost in one of the embassies just so some official could purposefully approach me and ask, "looking for something?", whereupon I could suavely reply, "the bathroom".

** There are rituals on the National Geographic channel that are less interesting and elaborate than the scene at many of the campaign receptions. First of all, up to 10 countries a day hold a reception, which means you can't stay for more than 30 minutes before moving on to the next one; this severely limits the length and nature of the conversations that you can have, not to mention the amount of cocktail shrimp you can consume. Secondly, after you've said your quick hellos and goodbyes at one reception, you criss-cross London only to discover that the guests at the next receptions. . .are almost entirely the same people you were talking to at the earlier ones (which leads to a slew of "so, we meet again...Indonesia" and "we should have carpooled" jokes). Third, after just engaging in sparkling conversation with someone high-ranking from another country, you'll see some people turn their backs to the room, surreptitiously take a piece of paper from their coat pockets, and proceed to scratch off a name from a list -- this is still a campaign, after all.

** There's also an art and a skill to exchanging calling cards at a reception that I have yet to master. For one thing, I often forget to bring enough with me, which means if I meet someone and he manages to give me his card, he's basically just yelled "Tag! You're it!" to everyone else in the room. For another, even when I do have cards with me, I still clumsily fumble through my pockets getting to them, and my handover is usually less than smooth (I mean, where do I put down my plate of cocktail shrimp?). The veteran diplomats, on the other hand, efficiently card everyone in a room like ninjas throwing star knives.

** Looking back, I kind of wonder about the cost-effectiveness of holding a big reception. Yes, it's high-profile and high-impact, but it also seems to attract the people who were going to support the host anyway. At the same time, receptions allow guests to solicit votes from the other guests that were conveniently gathered for them (all while the host pays for the cocktail shrimp!). Likewise, receptions give other countries a good idea of the host's existing level of voter support - or lack thereof. See, while some receptions were roaring successes, with guests packing the embassy well into the night, other receptions were decidedly. . .not. As in you-can-hear-crickets-in-the-background not. I mean, thanks for inviting us over and we may very well vote for you, but in the meantime...aawwkkwwaaaaaaarrdd.

** Anyway, every country also has to intensively campaign at the retail, country-by-country level: personal calls are made, substantive meetings are held, notes and other diplomatic correspondence are sent out by home offices and embassies all over the world, QPQs are proposed/accepted. Then everything comes to a head the week of the IMHO election, as each candidate tries to keep track of those countries that have already expressed support and those that are still up for grabs. All the candidates now have to locate the Head of Delegation of the still-undecided countries during the IMHO assembly and personally solicit their support -- a not-too-easy task since there are more than 160 nations in IMHO, many with large visiting delegations. Since the delegation heads are often from the outside and unknown to everyone else, an amusing scene ensues at the IMHO: swarms of candidate country officials (including me) spread out all over the place eyeballing country nameplates, ID cards and flagpins in the hope of positively identifying a head of delegation. If you suspect, but aren't sure, that someone is your assignment, you follow him/her all around until he/she stops and you can get close enough to talk to them and confirm their identity. How is this different from stalking, you ask? Other than we all have diplomatic immunity if caught, not much. Not much at all.

** I cannot emphasize enough the comedic possibilities of the whole track-down-and-chat-up-someone-who's-identity-you're-not-sure-of process. The following, for instance, are three absolutely true stories from the field, in ascending order of hilarity:

1) a diplomat starts a conversation with a person who the diplomat thinks is the head of a delegation; the diplomat is actually talking to...the delegation's driver.

2) a diplomat starts a conversation with a person who the diplomat thinks is the head of a delegation; the diplomat is actually talking to...a member of hotel security.

3) a guy diplomat starts talking to a girl on the sidewalk right outside the IMHO building; the guy diplomat is actually talking to...a member of the IMHO secretariat, who rushes back into the IMHO building because she thinks she is being picked up by the guy diplomat.

And yet, here I sit for hours - in a clearly marked chair - and no one approaches me. Sigh.

** As a final reminder to everyone else of their candidacy, many countries leave token gifts and souvenirs (notepads, paperweights, keychains etc) on all the other countries' desks. Once again, however, the Philippines manages to come away ahead. While all the other countries package their tokens inside a plastic gift box or bag (like the kind you buy at stationary shops), the Philippines gives away a big, foldable earth-friendly-cloth shopping bag. This results in one of two things: a) people who find the gift boxes/bags of other countries too unwieldy to bring to receptions leave those behind, but always still bring the Philippines' bag with them because it neatly folds away; or b) people unfold the Philippine bag and place all the other countries' gifts inside that bag. Either way, guess which country's name always ends up being seen by everyone?

Hint: rhymes with "Philippines"

** Finally, election day arrives. All the candidates get to give brief campaign statements - some go with straightforward addresses, others go with stand-up...er, sit-down-at-country-desk comedy. When ballot casting time comes, the election committee calls out a word I never knew existed, but which I now know I want to become just because it sounds so awesome. Someday, I will be . . . a "scrutineer".

Once the vote results come in, team Philippines finds success. Major success. Make no mistake, this is big, and will serve vital national interests well. I was just glad to play a small part in it, and to see all the master Philippine diplomats up close and in action. And for all its significance and importance, the whole thing was also quite fun.

Hey, they could even make an SNL skit about it someday.

THE NGO-ON-NGO VIOLENCE MUST END

This week, I went to watch "Livestock", a charity gig organized by Friends of the Earth (FOE) that featured some of the best stand-up comics in the UK. The FOE advocacy for the night was planet-friendly farming, and the evening promised a lot of "so, who here would like to take their friendship with the earth to the next level, if you know what I mean?" double entendres I enjoy way too much.

Walking up to the theatre, I noticed that many who were going to watch the show were being approached by people holding up "Have some balls! Go Vegan!" signs. Now, I've seen similar tactics like that before at the Ikaw Rin concert, with slogan-shirt wearing/clipboard toting "activists" going up to the crowd lining outside the stadium. But, as with the Ikaw Rin concert before, the sign holders this night were generally ignored by the rest of the people, if not dismissed with some annoyance. Still, you got the impression that everything was part of a concerted effort and all for the same larger cause.

Well, lo and behold! Apparently FOE and vegans don't get along! One FOE host immediately complained onstage that vegans were "accosting" spectators outside, and many of the subsequent performing comics openly mocked the vegetarian cause. "Sorry I didn't see the vegan protesters outside, I was backstage at the veal buffet."; "You say we shouldn't eat meat, but then tell us 'Have some balls!'"

The vegans later struck back by sneaking into the theatre, storming the stage in the middle of a comic's routine and unfurling some banners. This actually would have been pretty bad-ass, except the main storming vegan made the sad decision to wear a lame black mask onstage, and thereby opened himself to blistering riducule from the cool and quick-witted comic. "Have the courage to show your face, man! You don't have a sword, that's how I know you're not the real Zorro!"

The crowd went wild, and the vegans were easily led off the stage. Game, set, match: comedians.

Now I'm thinking, this whole thing should help everyone appreciate how difficult it can be to get along and reach consensus on the world's biggest issues. I mean, if even FOE and vegans - two groups presumably on the same side of the larger environment debate - are taking swipes at each other, what hope do the baby carrots have for the future? (oh, please, won't someone think of the baby carrots!)

And for us government-sector diplomats, well, we can't really take sides between the two of them. Nor could we easily choose one if we actually had to. I mean, who do we go with? On the one hand, FOE is armed with funny-looking comics and their razor-sharp wit....

"I walked into the supermarket the other day, and saw a sign that said 'Two for One.' I thought, hmmm, tension within the Musketeers?"

"One out of every three women in Scotland is obese...as are the other two"

"My philosophy in life is 'my enemy's enemy is my friend', which can get awkward because my enemy is his own worst enemy; and his philosophy in life is 'love thy enemy'.

"I like that banks now give you the option to provide your own security answer AND question for phone transactions. The security question my bank will now ask me is, 'Is that you, Stephen?'; and my security answer will be, 'No, nana, it's me Richard...Stephen died in the war, remember?"

On the other hand, the vegans apparently have an endless supply of individuals with the ability to shop in the supermarket produce aisle without ever getting cold . . .

Should be a useful power this December in Copenhagen!

So you see, you can't choose between the two sides, you just can't. The only hope for earth's salvation then appears to be the eventual rise of an NGO whose members look good in vegetable bikinis AND can tell a decent knock-knock-who's-there. When that day comes, I will quit my job in government and join their cause immediately. Even if I have to stand outside concerts in a zorro mask.

TULOY ANG "FIGHTBACK"

Bloody brilliant, Manny. And I'm not just referring to Cotto's systematic destruction -- that was expected (and won me ten pounds). No, I'm talking more about your subsequent spine-tingling rendition of "You Raise Me Up" that brought tears to this LLDD's eyes.

(I'm not sure if the clip has been shown back home, but Sky Sports News here in London has great, nay, surreal footage of Manny walking back to his dressing room from the ring immediately after the fight -- still in his trunks, sweaty and shirtless -- running into some Celine Dion-esque woman singer in the halls, making eye-contact, and then spontaneously breaking out the Josh Groban. Not only that, he owns the ensuing duet, steering the Vegas singer when to go high or when to go second-voice by sheer force of kilay. I mean, he just finished trading punches for 12 freaking rounds, and then effortlessly slides into easy-listening like it ain't no thing? Now that's a man.)

Such awesomeness. The least our humble little diplomatic mission can do then, Manny, is follow your lead, continue with the "fightback", and indeed help raise the country up from the storm. You do it with your fists, voice and moustache, we'll do it with our, um, promotional activities.

Not quite the same, I know, but, hey, I am strong when I am on your shoulders and all that, right?

British Publications

Sublime Magazine, September 2009

Best Line: "The briefing was short and to the point, boiling down to 'no touching, and stay out of the way of the tail' "

LLDD Commentary: Funny, that's also what they said at the restraining order hearing.

TNT Magazine, October 2009

Best Line: (aside from a band called "Wolfmother", you mean?) "The amphitheatre of mountains encircling the village was cloaked in electric lime-green striped by stone walls"

LLDD: Substitute "cloaked in electric lime-green striped by stone walls" with "cloaked in electric lime-green striped by stone-washed", and you just described every soiree outfit of mine from the 80s.

Waterlife, October-December 2009

Best Line: "Everywhere we were treated with garlands of flowers and big smiles, and on one occassion a giant stilt!"

LLDD Commentary: I would genuinely like to meet that mayor who, during council meetings, thinks along the lines, "You know what tourists don't get enough of? Stilts. Like, big-assed ones."

World Travel Market, November 2009

At the second largest travel mart in the world, our tourism people were kept very busy throughout the event by international promoters, operators and dealmakers -- a very good sign for the country. And as always, the Philippine booth wasn't just there, it represented. To wit, it had the bright, airy and friendly feel of someone's favorite neighborhood cafe . . .

Whereas other regions went with . . .

. . . that warm office-cubicle look . . .

. . .kinda-out-of-place-inside-a-convention-center mock ups. . .

. . . or the cozy, cozy feel of an SM appliance showroom.

Even for those booths that had awesome gimmicks like live falcons, if you looked closely at the back at what people were carrying . . .

. . . mwe he he he. Sa amin rin galing ang mga bitbit nyo.

And don't try to out-adorable the Pinoy booth, Lithuania. Just don't.

Finally, as an added bonus at the Philippine booth, I discovered the long-lost twin of Siouxsie, one my batchmates who's given me a lot of grief through the years over my supposed resemblance to "Kat". Behold then: my batchmate Siouxsie (here examining the LLDDL's ring). . .

. . . and her newfound twin (here examing the Philippine booth's catering needs) . . .

Ha! Who's making "twin" jokes now, Siouxsie? Who's laughing NOW!?!

Philippine Generations Charity Gig, November 2009

We wrap things up with a fund raising event held by the Philippine Generations, that group of second generation Fil-Brits who I always try to be a part of so that I can seem young and hip by association. They lined up a pretty cool array of performances, from former Miss Saigon castmembers performing Bayan Ko, to X-Factor semi-finalists "Truecolors" doing some song I'm too uncool to know the title of, to rap-group "Lyrico Supremo" sampling a really cool tribute song for the storm victims.

But in the end, there can only be one Brit -- father of the Philippine Generations' chairman, no less -- and his rendition of . . . Anak

Somewhere, Manny is smiling to himself and quietly nodding in approval.

AH, SO THIS IS THE "WEEKEND" YOU SPEAK OF

A batchmate once had a great quote about how busy things are at post: "weekends are like unicorns: I've heard stories of them, but have never really seen one".

True, true (haaah haaah haaah haaaaaaaah haaa). Here in London - and at every other post, no doubt - many an embassy personnel's weekend has been foregone in favor of things like overtime work, official visits, community events and, most recently, the typhoon "Fightback". So I was pleasantly surprised that for the recent long All-Saints weekend, I actually had some spare time on my hands. And you know what spare time means for a party animal like me in a wild city like London, don't you?

Laundry!

Well, yes, there was that, but since this was a long weekend, there was an extra day for exciting stuff like:

The Natural History Museum

Ok, granted, you and I have a different definition of "exciting". But I've always wanted to go into this place because of its facade's vibrant colors and intricate details. It is, to my mind, one of the most attractive structures in London, whose sheer beauty is enough to make me forget that I once paid 10 pounds to watch "Night at the Museum 2"

As early as the walk up to the entrance and the first few steps in, you realize that the star of this show is the building itself as much as the collection in it. Geek and goth alike would enjoy this place.

Once inside, everyone seems to head straight for the dinosaur exhibit, which causes crowding and slow moving lines (imagine if they had the Dinobots!). Fortunately, you're entertained by all the kids who roar into the mouths of the dino-fossils, and by the steady stream of informational posters along the way. Do you know, for instance, the reason why dinosaurs became extinct?




Haaaaaaaahahaha! "It's called cricket!" Oh, that Paleontologist humor!

Aiiiiggghhhh!!!! Look, I don't like whales, snakes and monkees in and of themselves. Whale, snake and monkee skeletons just plain freak me out.

Animals carved into stone, however, are fraking bad ass.




Would make a great name for a rock band.

Alas, I end the tour on a downer. The last exhibit I passed through was the earth sciences hall, and the volcanoes section there led with a feature on the Pinatubo eruption. Sure, why not? For whatever reason, however, the museum decided that it was a good idea to - rather than just explain the awesome natural science aspect of the event - contrive a presentation that focused on the difficulties of the human response to the eruption. Thus, they showed a "live" news report (staged by actors) with an "anchorman" asking "field reporters" condescending questions like "couldn't anyone see this coming?" and "surely, the evacuation efforts can't be deemed a success?"

I mean, why? Why go out of your way and spend time and money to make of all things a fake TV production that mocks what people couldn't do in the face of one the biggest natural disasters of all time? It was a freaking centuries-dormant volcano!!! There was no way anyone could accurately predict everything!!!

See?! You say so yourself!!!

Saatchi Gallery

Considering how bummed I was about the volcano thing, the choice of an abstract art gallery as my next weekend venue was a very risky one, as I have never been much into the artsy scene (unless you count Star Wars costumes as art) (which it totally is). I speak from sheer ignorance, lack of proper appreciation, and complete absence of talent, but too often I feel like modern/abstract artists are just putting me on, and that their work was just thrown together and only later explained away by a cutesy title. (or, the other way around, sometimes I feel the artists come up with the cutesy title first, and then make something to fit it; like I said, I'm ignorant and talentless).

Imagine then, my utter surprise at how thoroughly I enjoyed the Saatchi Gallery. It was bright rather than brooding; friendly rather than prententious; capable of appreciation rather than "wtf".

Did that mean I understood any of the artworks?

Hell, no.

But I know what I liked.

And, without a doubt, my favorite work was one called "Old Persons Home". There was no missing the message here -- heck, even I could figure it out -- and the use of motorized wheelchairs could be considered gimmicky. But, dammit, it just worked. The eerily lifelike sculptures (ironically depicting lifeless humans), the directionless and purposeless movements, the seeming attempts at interaction among the figures -- they all just came together perfectly to make a mesmerizing point, however unsubtle.

Put another way, anytime you can get me to stay in a room filled with creepy figures on Halloween without making me cry like a little girl? Art.

Halloween Dinner

A halloween dinner was hastily called among associates, and at the last minute, it was decided that it should be a costume party. No worries. Most just came in kiddie masks or funny wigs anyway, the kind that wouldn't frighten any....

Aiiiiiigggh!!!! Not art! Not art!

It was also a potluck affair, and someone (correctly) figured that on that cold and dreary London night, people would be craving hot Filipino morning food like sinangag and pritong itlog. Then, someone dressed as Audrey Hepburn showed up. So in effect, what we had was -- wait for it -- Pinoy Breakfast at Tiffany's!

And the jokes went downhill from there.

Wingardium Longganisa!

Kamay-kain-NA!

Yes, it's always good to end a long weekend on awful food/comic-related puns.