GIVE ME AN "A"!...GIVE ME AN "M"!...GIVE ME AN "M"!

My, my, how time flies. Has it already been a year since the last ASEAN Ministerial Meeting (AMM)? Seems like just yesterday I was sneaking off and hunting down VNC shoes for the LLDDL in Kuala Lumpur (actually, it was just yesterday that I was sneaking off and hunting VNC down shoes for the LLDDL! Only in Glorietta instead of Suria. eh. The places look alike anyway).

So our turn as chairman of ASEAN is finally coming to an end, and we want to leave on a high note. The Cebu Summit last January went well enough for me, but there’ll always be those who’ll choose to remember the typhoon and postponement instead. Whatever. All we know is, this time, we have a bigger headstart, the thing is in our homecourt, and – honestly - after Cebu, is there anything that can take us by surprise anymore?

In a word: No.

This time around, everyone goes about their business with a veteran’s confidence and swagger. The number of visiting country delegations is almost double that of Cebu, but we have a lot more time and space to work with, most facilities are already in place, and people already instinctively know what to do, where to go, and who to turn to. In fact, preparations are so far along, some people talk as if they actually miss the challenges of Cebu, like Grandpa Simpson going on one of his rambles. “What’s that? Your laptop just lost its wi-fi? Let me tell you, in Cebu, we didn’t NEED wi-fi! We walked five miles through the snow to get to the highest tree and signal the next island to crank up the dial-up connection of their UNIVAC! You people are a bunch of babies! I'm going to take a nap...”

Well, grandpa, if there was a “ready-or-not, here they come” feel to things in Cebu, we got a “let’s get this party started” vibe going on right now. So let’s DO get this party started, ‘cause before you know it, it will be ASEAN Summit time all over again.

And Ka-Ching!apore TM has rehearsals scheduled for Monday.

Team Building

I got drafted for Liaison Officer duty again this conference, and I couldn't have been happier. I had a blast being an LO in Cebu, and the organizers were so far advanced in their preparations this time around that all the other LOs arrived from around the world a fulll month ahead of the event, and we actually had time for a team building/seminar weekend. Now I'm usually against working on Saturdays and Sundays, but a catered lunch is a catered lunch. So bond, LOs, BOND!

Day One of Team Building. As you can see, we reported to training camp slightly out of shape.


(WARNING: SHAMELESS MATT DAMON REFERENCE AHEAD) With all the laptops and floor plans lying around, the place had the feel of an Oceans Eleven caper.


A hilarious communication exercise. The LOs were divided into two groups, about 15 a side. A figure would be flashed to the first LO, who had to draw it in 10 seconds. He then would flash his drawing to to the second LO, who had to make his own drawing to be flashed to the next LO, and so forth. No one could talk or show their drawings to anyone else. If you zoom in to the picture above, you'll see the original figure was an owl. By the fourth drawing, the figure had somehow become a stick-figure horse. By the ninth drawing onwards, the figure was cross between an insomniac bunny and Casper the ghost.


An indispensable part of every team-building, the cheering contest. Our group's cheer was to spell AMM and then chant it like a Buddhist mantra (you had to be there). The group above started strong, but for some reason finished with "The Spaghetti Song" by the Sex Bomb Dancers. If only our principals knew.

Convoy Dry Runs

Oh GOD, those dry runs. They'd go on until 4am, include briefings/debriefings that would last three times as long as the run itself, and have enough glitches to make Murphy smile. Still, it was all worth it in the end, as all VIPs got around safely and (generally) on time.

One thing you can say about Manila motorists, they all go through a 4-step thought process as a convoy approaches: 1) Pretend I don't hear the convoy, therefore the convoy does not exist; 2) Yeah, yeah, yeah, I hear your sirens, but you're probably just some local low-level bureaucrat with bootleg sirens on a joyride/power trip. I'm staying right here in my lane; 3) Oh crap! At least six police motorcycles and cars in my rear-view mirror, all with blaring sirens. You're not fracking around, are you?!; and 4) I will now turn 90 degrees into the next lane, regardless of other cars that may already be there.

Whole process takes about a minute.

(Cebu drivers, on the other hand, were far more efficient: 1) I will freeze in sheer terror and keep a deathgrip on my steering wheel at the sound of the approaching sirens for 10 seconds; and 2) I will now turn 90 degrees into the next lane, regardless of other cars that may already be there)

So what goes in a convoy dry run? First, take a batch of LOs and make them stew overnight (literally) . . .


...add a dash of VIP chauffeurs...


...and coat with a whole lot of men in blue...er...green...er...teal...(damn you, available light setting!)


A dry run doesn't end with the convoy run itself. There's still a debriefing afterwards that can stretch for hours. The debriefing above was held past 12am (there was some comedy relief, though, right after this picture was taken, as one LO came in late, saw all the other LOs seated at the table, then started shouting "Alright! It's midnight! Let's party!". When he didn't get a reaction, he shouted even louder "LET'S PARTY!". What he didn't realize was that no one was reacting because The Boss was already seated at the table but couldn't be seen by the shouting LO. The Boss was not amused.


Game time. Where those long hours pay off. VIP Convoys know the drill by now, it's the additional delegates that have to keep up with us. (speaking of which, I always thought whenever we'd travel abroad that ours was the only delegation that frantically looked around for their car seats. As this picture of another delegation shows, everybody does it like a Chinese Fire Drill. phew)

PICC

I'm on record as saying foreign delegations will remember a beachfront resort more than a generic convention center. That may still be true, but from an organizer's point of view, it was sheer joy to have so much space to play around with in the PICC. No more eating off floors, no more tables jammed against your chest when you sit, no more sexual harassment lawsuits from the constant bumping into one another in hallways. Honestly, when we first walked through the place, I wanted to run around like Macauley Culkin in "Home Alone".

On the flipside, the convention center was so large it took forever to get from one side to another, and you ended up talking yourself out of going places you needed to go. Does my delegation REALLY need to be at Meeting Room 14 to sign that treaty? Can't we just text or YM or something? And, strangely, for all that space, they didn't set up a gift bazaar like they did in Cebu. I mean, where were we supposed to get our dried mango fix?

So memo to Ka-ching!apore TM: get that large (but not too large) convention center with gift bazaar on a beach resort put up, stat. It's the only way I'll be truly happy.

Not quite the Cebu beach view, but not bad.

With its speckled gray concrete, wood and chrome trimming, heavy upholstered furniture, and what I can only describe as disco entrance lighting, lower PICC had a VERY dated feel to it . . .

...but would time warp into modern-day as you went to the higher floors. It was like one of those those New York dance clubs that play 70s music on the ground floor, 80s on the second, etc.


This time around, we got a big-ass secretariat, complete with...


...individual sub-committee rooms (here we see the ever popular gifts sub-committee), each with with a garden view...


... staff dining area (a big hit) ...


...and - this is very important - LO workstation and conference area (just pardon the mess).


Despite the much larger number of visiting country delegations, everyone got a bigger country room. The blown-up photos of Philippine scenery was a nice touch carried over from Cebu.

In Cebu Shangri-La, there were only two dedicated bilateral rooms for the entire Summit. Needless to state, confirmed time slots became valuable commodities to Delegations and LOs alike. In PICC, on the other hand, we had all the rooms we wanted (with Philippine backdrops to boot!). The only problem was that we had the same number of people handling bilaterals as in Cebu. This made for some funny scenes of officers and staff scurrying around all the rooms with flags, chairs and other materials in between meetings.

PICC also had really well-dressed ushers. You couldn't ask for directions to the men's room without them breaking out into song and dance = )

Gala

I got really mixed feelings here. On the one hand, something like 80% of this gala was a repeat of the Cebu gala, right down to stage design, dance steps and narrator's script (I guess they thought if it killed in Cebu, it should kill here, too).

On the other hand, this gala included numbers from the country delegations, and there are few things more entertaining than diplomats taken out of their comfort zone and made to sing and dance.

The fun actually started weeks in advance when the country representatives first met with the show's producers and tried to work out the details of the gala coverage. Some countries expressed no reservations as to media recording the event - heck, some of them wanted their number broadcast live to their country - while others defended their performance's privacy with the intensity of a state secret.

Come showtime, the country delegations did themselves proud. You could see some nervousness on some of the performers faces, but they all gamely pushed on, and the audience loved them for it.

(well, there was this one country that hired professional singers to perform for them, which is kinda like a boss paying his secretary to buy his wife's birthday gift)

Anyway, on with the show.

During the first meeting between the Producers of the Gala and the Delegation representatives, the Director of the show hyped the wrap-around video screen backdrop, the high-tech lighting and cameras, the full musical backups and the other bells and whistles. Instead of being reassured, all the big production talk apparently gave some of delegations stage fright. Others, however, were legitimately giddy to be part of a such a big performance. Either way, they all took pictures of the stage mock-up for sending back home. Diplomats need to get ready for their close-up too, you know!

Gala night. All the pageantry of an awards show, except no one yells "Who are you wearing?". The LOs bring the VIPs up to the lobby entrance, where they are met by the Hosts (above), then are quickly shown to a holding room. What you don't see is the LOs frantically running - in formal wear - behind the horde of cameras and skipping over an obstacle course of cables and cameras to meet up in time with the VIPs at the holding room entrance. You could set the scene to Benny Hill music.

State University Singing Ambassadors at the back, ASEAN (real-life) Singing Foreign Ministers up front. See how it all comes together? I'd give Ebert-like reviews for the rest of the country performances, but lest I reveal a state secret, check out this article instead.

Finally, the show ended as it did in Cebu, with a "Rock Icon" belting out his ASEAN song. The LLDD's bro-in-law gives it a solid 9 on the Unintentional Comedy Scale.

The Money Shot

So here's the situation: as is custom, all the VIPs had a group photo scheduled during the event. For the AMM, the photo op was supposed to take place on the last day, after a lunch meeting on the 4th floor, and on the ground floor red carpet staircase on the other side of PICC that led to the venue for the final meeting and closing ceremonies. The Organizers were well set-up for this.

Turns out, however, about three VIPs had flights to catch and planned to leave even before the lunch meeting. So now we had a problem. If we held the photo-op after lunch as planned, at least three VIPs would be missing from the picture. On the other hand, it would take too much time to bring everyone down right before lunch to the photo-shoot venue at the other side of PICC, and then bring them all the way back up to the site of the lunch meeting.

So a spot decision was made. Hold the group photo before the lunch meeting, but instead of bringing everyone all the way down, take the shot on the roofdeck just outside the lunch meeting room (I actually had the same idea, but was too shy to speak up; damn you social anxiety disorder!). The only thing was, we were not set up for this scenario, the roofdeck was bare, and there were less than 30 minutes before the start of the lunch meeting.

This was turning into a lame half-episode of "24".

(blip...blip...blip...blip...blip blip blip blipblipblipblipblip)

(The following takes place between 12:30 and 12:40pm)

The location, stage, riser, carpet etc. were all set up from scratch in under 10 minutes. Pretty impressive, really.

(The following takes place between 12:40 and 12:45 pm)

To fix the blocking, framing and background, each LO stood in place of his VIP. We all had fun with the moment, knowing this would probably the only time official photographers would ever want to get a picture of us.

(The following takes place between 12:45 and 12:50 pm)

Afterwards, each LO got on his/her knees and taped his country name on the platform (glamorous, this LO life, no?).

(The following takes place between 12:50 and 12:55pm)

We actually finished with a few minutes to spare, so a couple of the LOs decided to stage some bilateral meetings of their own in the holding room.

(The following takes place between 12:55 and 1:00 pm)

And then faster than you can say "regulation of cheese and other dairy products", the VIPs were onstage and the media were happily clicking away. So all's well that ends well . . .

Well, not quite. It's not immediately noticeable, but there's actually one VIP missing from the picture. Seems this VIP decided to go to the men's room first and change into a barong. Meanwhile, all the other VIPs had already made their way to the photo-op stage and were ready and waiting in the sun. Everyone was frantically radioing the missing VIP's LO who, by stroke of bad luck, could not go into the men's room because . . . well . . she was not a man. By now, the media were snapping away and, since this was an outdoor lunchtime shoot, many of the VIPs were already visibly hot and hungry. Some VIPs tried to end the session by yelling "Thank you!" to the media and making a move for the door, but everyone was yelling back "Wait! Wait! Just one more!" The VIPs held back for a couple more seconds, and then finally broke ranks (above) just as the missing VIP was entering the door leading to the photo area. By then it was too late, all the VIPs were already heading towards the lunch meeting, and the LOs were debating the merits of Photoshop vs. Ulead.

LO Life

I'd like to think that all of us LOs were elite, hand-picked, specially trained diplomats trusted with the most difficult official duties. In truth, only about half the LOs were battled hardened veterans of Presidential Protocol specifically called-up for the event, while the rest of us I think were chosen because we had no typing skills.

In the end, though, we all bonded, learned from and covered for each other, and ultimately delivered. It was actually a bit poignant when the whole thing was over and we had to say goodbye and go back to our old assignments.

Man, if we ever got back together, we'd be kick-ass wedding planners!

Before anything else, an LO asks himself "WWJBD"?*

(*what would Jason Bourne do?)


Getting the convoy ready at the airport. Always a logistical and bureaucratic nightmare for an LO, but also good for an adrenalin rush when the principal pops out of the plane and then speeds away from the tarmac.

An endless, tiring LO chore: walking through the venues. This walk-through was well after midnight, and a few hours before the opening ceremony later that morning. You have to "eyeball" everything from seating arrangements to holding areas to men's rooms. And, yes, I used eyeball, seat, hold and men's room all in the same sentence.

Typical LO scene: all dressed up, standing outside the VIP meeting room with the other LOs, constantly looking at cellphones or listening to radios for the latest information from HQ.

Speaking of, special mention should be made of LOs and their radios. The radios are indispensable for tracking activities and operations, but are also an endless source of hilarity. In the first place, most everyone involved is a bureacurat with no military training or background, yet all become Jack Bauer wannabes the moment a radio is placed in their hands. Secondly, some of the radio communications, while necessary to the events, are decidedly . . . um . . . un-military in subject matter. Take for instance attire. No VIP ever wants to be odd-man-out and the only one under or overdressed to an activity, so they task the LOs to find out what everyone else is wearing. The radio exchanges go something like this (I'm not kidding):

LO 1: Break. Marlboro country, come in. This is Banana Republic.
LO 2: Go ahead Banana Republic.
LO 1: Will your VIP be wearing a barong or a suit?
LO 2: Standby . . . (pause) . . . he is wearing a suit.
LO 1: Copy that. Tie or no tie?
LO 2: Tie.
LO 1: 10-4. What color is the suit?
LO 2: Appears to be brown, may be beige. Smart casual. Will confirm.
LO 1: Tango Yankee.
LO 2: Break! Break! (in more urgent voice) VIP is taking off tie. Repeat, VIP is taking off tie! Will go with unbuttoned collar!
LO 3: Short break. This is Clay Nation. What's the menu for tonight?

And so on.

You may think all this is trivial, but its the sort of thing that gets you in the papers. (although I was told that the VIP invloved really chose to wear a barong becuase the event was at the Presidential Palace, and really didn't mind being the only one in the picture in white)


At the start of every meeting, media are allowed in for a few pictures, then are cleared out of the room. Some try to stay on by saying they're with so-and-so or they have super secret clearance. I enjoy clearing media out of a room, I really do =)


For the gala dinner, each LO was measured for a formal barong. Of the close to 30 LOs, less than half had barongs that actually fit. One of the lucky LOs celebrates above.

Long after everyone else has gone to bed, an LO stays up and works on the next day's scenarios.

And in the midst of all the chaos, the LOs manage to throw a surpirse birthday party for one of their own. The set-up: While all the VIPs were in a lunch meeting, the LOs gathered in their own dining area. The Boss (at right) summons the celebrant (at left) over the radio in a stern sounding voice. The celebrant comes rushing in, all nervous. The Boss stays in character and asks what the situation is with the celebrant's VIP. The celebrant now gets really worried, because he was not aware of any situation with his VIP (because, in fact, there was none). While the celebrant tries to gather himself, another LO sneaks behind with the cake, and then we all break out into song (that's my dorky voice you hear on the video). Another successful LO operation.

A Rewarding Experience

Whoever said work was its own reward never received a shiny medal. Us LOs of Foreign Ministers were really not expecting anything other than a pat on the back, but word spread that the Palace had invited everyone involved in the Summit and the AMM over for some sort of ceremony. This led to the existential question: "If an LO is part of a ceremony, does he protocol himself?".

Sure enough, there was a Presidential recognition program and citations were spread all around. You really are filled with pride when you first put the thing on, which you immediately replace with the anxious feeling of "Am I a dork for wearing a medal around my neck during cocktails?"

Whatever. I got mine, I hope others get theirs.

And the whole thing is finally over.

Mabuhi!

Neither rain nor sleet nor snow nor Supertyphoon "Egay" will keep an LO away from picking up his award at the Presidential Palace.


The handpicked LOs of leaders during the Summit get their awards from the President herself ...


... while the LLDD stands outside with his, ready to ride off into the sunset.

(or at least take the rented bus back to the office; it was raining pretty hard)

TRAVEL ADVISORY...NOT ONLY IN THE PHILIPPINES

So one of my big pet peeves is when one country issues a “Travel Advisory” against another country, like when Country X warns its nationals about Country Y with a statement like “THE SKY IS FALLING!! THE SKY IS FALLING!!! WE’RE NOT SURE WHERE AND HOW, BUT – HOOO BOY!!! IT COULD BE A DOOZY!!! WELL, NO, Y’ALL DON’T HAVE TO GO HOME RIGHT NOW … WE’RE ACTUALLY NOT TOO SURE OF THINGS OURSELVES . . . WE THINK IT WILL BE IN A MONTH WITH AN “R” . . . BUT STILL . . . FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY . . . LOOK BOTH WAYS BEFORE CROSSING!!! I MEAN, WE’VE SEEN THE AMBIGUOUSLY WORDED INTELLIGENCE REPORTS!!! THEY USED THE WORD “SUGGEST”, FOR GOD’S SAKE!!!!....oh the humanity….”

You know, something subtle like that.

I know these advisories are well-intentioned, but a lot of times they’re exaggerated, not in the proper context, or just flat-out wrong.

In the meantime, Country Y can kiss hosting that international dentists convention goodbye.

My bigger pet peeve is when some know-it-all columnist, deejay, professor, talk-show mainstay, cab driver, etc actually rides on a Travel Advisory bandwagon and rags on his/her own country without so much as a fact check or an alternative solution, as if pure whining would cure all that ailed us.

My BIGGEST pet peeve . . . is Annabelle Rama, but that’s neither here nor there.

No, what really gets me is when some pompous, pretentious, portentous Filipinos get so into shallow-minded self-loathing that they haughtily use “Hay, naku…Only in the Philippines” (bonus peeve points if the blowhard smugly and self-satisfiedly says the phrase like he/she came up with it).

Because to me, if the height of your social insight is using “Only in the Philippines” to finish your commentary, then you’re on the same intellectual level (and circle of hell) as those people who think they win arguments by using “He-lloooo?”, “Nya-uh” or any other catchphrase they’ve seen on “Friends”.

Anyway, I’ve always daydreamed of a cheap local cable-access show where some likeable guys would humorously put things in perspective by calling out other countries that have problems all too familiar to Filipinos. I’d call it “Travel Advisory … NOT only in the Philippines” (in case I wasn't obvious enough). Think Daily Show meets Bubble Gang meets Wayne’s World (heck, maybe Tia Carrere herself can guest host; she says she’s Filipina).

The point of the show would not be to gloss over our very real troubles or knock other countries down, but just to get the “Only in the Philippines” crowd to – as my old law school classmate used to say – “Hey, relax; take a break; you don’t have to be an asshole all the time.”

I'll even get the ball rolling. Check out the following recent stories an “Only in the Philippines” peabrain would pounce on. Then click the link, and you may be surprised to see where the story actually came from.

* Garbage? We don't need your steenking garbage!

* Man, next thing you know, scrap metal thieves will start stealing stadium bleachers...oh, wait.

* Blackouts, heatwave, traffic, oh, my!

* Dengue. Your welcome.

* Rate low on those country corruption indexes? Apparently, it's just a matter of perspective.

* I've heard of pirate waters, but this is ridiculous.

* Squatter...meet police truncheon. Police truncheon...meet squatter.

* "Terror strike" sounds bad enough. But when the "terror" bit is actually an entirely separate story from the "strike", you know your country's having a bad news day.

* Scam scam bo-bam, banana bama bo-bam, fi fi fo fam. Scam!

* Carnap implies sleep, laziness even. We prefer the term carbirth.

(and don't go expecting Robocop to save your ass. He might be on the take too)

So how you doing? Could I BE any more peeved? I KNOW! Oh….my….Gawd!

IT'S SATURDAY, I MUST BE IN SINGAPORE

Or should I say, Ka-ching!apore?

Because - in the name of all that is Pirates of the Caribbean - this place is rich!

(BTW, if it turns out I invented "Ka-ching!apore", I'm claiming royalties)

They've built everything they need here in Ka-ching!apore TM from scratch, placed them neatly all over the city, refined and improved them over and over and over until . . .

Let me put it this way: When we we there in June, they were already using live jet aircraft and full fireworks during daily rehearsals for their National Day.

Which is in August.

That, my friends, takes some serious coin.

Speaking of coin, someone tell me if its OK to give money to street musicians here in Ka-ching!apore TM. I was walking along the river and passing under a bridge, a family of (possibly) locals walking just ahead of me, when I heard a man with a guitar and an open case singing Jim Croce's "I Had to Say I Love You in a Song". As I passed him, I happened to have my hand in my pocket and felt two small coins. Reflexively, I tossed the money in the guitar case (I mean, he was stylin' Jim Croce, man!), where it made a distinct clink when it hit other coins.

Well! The moment the clink sound resonated in the tunnel, the father and the mother of the family walking ahead of me spun their heads around and gave me absolute dagger looks. The mother, in particular, kept on glaring at me even as she kept walking. She looked like she could have walked straight into a lampost and still held her stare as if I were ripping heads off teddy bears.

Talk about awkward. But really, I just want to say to Ka-ching!apore TM: I came in peace! I meant no harm! I like your city! I really do!

Now, about those royalties...


View from our hotel. So-called "Durian" complex at left. I am all for naming buildings after fruit.


Sculpture called "The First Generation." (little known prequel to Star Trek: The Next ... oh, never mind)


The famous Singapore street food was as good as advertised. A diplomat gives his swig of approval.


The elongated skyscrapers along the river and against the blue sky reminded me of Chicago a lot (as if I know Chicago that well. I spent only 15 minutes on street level there when I was travelling by train to the West Coast. Still, I've seen a lot of "E.R.")


I'm thinking of starting a segment in this blog called "No matter where you are in the world...". The first entry: no matter where you are in the world, the bride will ask the bridesmaids to wear an unfortunate shade of powder blue.

That's it...make love to the camera...feel that lawn...look out for those ants...


Inside of our hotel. It's actually a converted post office, and looks a lot like Liwasan Bonifacio from the outside (but with a much better buffet)


Nice side event during this trip: I got to meet up with the LLDD's sister and her family for a birthday dinner. Huge burgers, great beer, good fun. Here, one of the LLDD's nephews attacks a mall fountain.


Photo of LLDD taken by the LLDD's sister. Obviously, she's also of the pack-as-many-landmarks-in-the-frame-even-if-everything-ends-up-tiny school of photography. Runs in the family, I guess.

The highlight of every trip abroad: meeting the compatriots. The PhilDel is always greeted like rockstars whenever it meets with the community, we bring pleasant news from back home, and a good time is had by all. Here, we rock out to the theme from "Pinoy Big Brother"

NEW OFFICIAL THEME SONG / VIDEO

It's like people actually make these videos with me in mind



It's good to be The Manny.

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

AND I THANK YOU...FOR BRINGING ME HERE

I wasn't really looking for one, but I think I found this Blog's official theme song/video. It brings together my affinity for 80's bands (lame) and sci-fi shows (dorky), while subtly alluding to the "travel-to-far-off-and-strange-lands-only-heightens-one's-sense-of-home" undercurrent of the foreign service, as well as the "destruction-of-the-human-race-is-imminent" theme of the legal profession.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you: "Scenes from Battlestar Galactica set to Depeche Mode's 'Home'"

If it were up to me, every career diplomat's retirement party would have this montage. And karaoke.