Originally published in 2001, Then and Now: Bridging 50 Years in Silliman was featured in The Sillimanian Magazine, a special centennial Founder’s Day Issue of The Weekly Sillimanian.
Then and Now
Author: Nikka
I yearn. I ache. I (window) shop.
The Belle of the Furball
Some things get better as they age. Like wine. Or cheese. Or that very rare breed of man who will never be associated with dad bod and is known in some parts as a silver fox. (What’s up, Jeffrey Dean Morgan?)
Beauty and the Beast, viewed through the sober lens of adulthood and after too much adulting? Not one of them. Sure, the songs still resonate and the spectacle still astounds, because hey they accomplished this in 1991 when computers required a whole room to house them and cell phones were as big as bricks.
For King and Country
Someone wasn’t just at Rio to hold the flag.
Anyone who knows me knows I only have one sport I reserve energy for – tennis. The glorious, solitary sport of kings, while ostensibly for gentlemen, is actually more of a gladiatorial contest of skill, mental fortitude, strength and endurance.
Anyone who also knows me would know this piece of news has thrilled me no end – Rafael Nadal, on a podium, winning, clutching a gold medal? My weekend has just gone from blah to awesome.
Rafael Nadal, Olympic gold medalist in singles, winner of two Wimbledon titles, two US Opens, one Australian Open and, most famously, an unprecedented nine French Open titles, just added another Olympic gold medal to his bulging closet of tennis trophies – this time in doubles. This makes him only one of two men who have an Olympic gold medal in both singles and doubles tennis. Clearly his absence at the 2012 London Olympics, was a lingering sour note and he’s been making up for it in Rio this year. Each time you think Rafa’s done winning, he just goes and does it again. All things considered, this is a pretty stellar warm-up for the US Open at the end of this month, if he’s making an appearance.
Even a surface Nadal fan knows that he never plays half as well as he does when he’s called upon to represent Spain, and he’s at his best when he’s part of a team. (Ironic, since he’s made his name as a singles titlist). Doubles may not come as naturally to him as being alone on court, but the chemistry with doubles specialist Marc Lopez at this year’s Olympics couldn’t seem to be denied.
After a disappointing, injury-plagued year and a half where he’s been forced to withdraw from the French Open and Wimbledon because of his wrist, winning again is probably the most positive thing that could happen to him.. Best of all, this win wasn’t for himself, it was for his country. Vamos Marc! Vamos Rafa!
A Moment on the Lips
The heart is highly overrated. It’s easy enough to assuage loneliness and homesickness in the age of Skype and Facetime, but the stomach isn’t as easy to please. Forget the heart, home is where the stomach is. My parents know this, which is why they welcome me with open arms and loads of fresh mangoes, cuchinta, bud-bud and puto each time I come home. Food figures heavily in our hearts.
Most days, I end up making my own home-cooked meals. Not fun when you’re used to buying it at a carinderia but a necessity when a piece of fried bangus is easily $6. A bag of malunggay leaves costs $2.50 + tax. It sucks because it’s mostly ice (they freeze the leaves in water) and I cry in the shower when I realize I’m ponying up $2.50 for a bag of leaves I used to pick off a tree in our backyard at home. But there’s only so long I can go without having Filipino food and if I have to cook it myself, I will. Needs must. Our neighbors are Filipino, and sometimes the hallway smells like chicken tinola. It’s all I can do to stop myself from knocking, bowl in hand.
They have plans to open a Jollibee in Toronto next year. Continue reading “A Moment on the Lips”
The Other Purple One
Proving that nothing really lasts forever, Yahoo has been sold and yet another internet OG has come crashing down. Everyone form a prayer circle and have a moment of silence, because 2016 is hellbent on taking everything we once held dear. Things will never be the same again.
Yes, this was a long time coming. The writing’s been on the wall for years. It’s been a slow slide downhill for poor, purple Yahoo since Google, that precocious little upstart, burst on the scene and started gaining ground in the early aughts. I barely use my account anymore and probably check my Yahoo e-mail twice a year, but once upon a time Yahoo was the first site I would go to whenever I got online.
Collector’s Edition
I haven’t thought about Pokémon in years. It’s never been a thing for me, probably because I couldn’t summon the energy to really delve deep into the kind of lore that gave its characters names like Squirtle or Charmander. (Look at me, fronting like I’m all highbrow and shit.) Besides, kids back then had already been playing with real pocket monsters for years; it was common to catch spiders (damang), keep them in matchboxes and, at recess, unleash them to lip sync for their life battle for supremacy. It was like American Gladiators, but with bloodthirsty arachnids. What could possibly compare to that?
The Watcher on the Walls
I am the ideal Netflix customer. When it comes to TV shows I’m into, my thing is to go big or go home. This means I wait till the season ends. I wait for what feels like forever. (Quite a few shows I follow have thirteen episodes at most, so ten to thirteen weeks, but really, forever.) Then when the season ends and all the episodes are available, I ensure I’m fully hydrated, there’s food stockpiled – Cheetos counts, right? – and go incommunicado for a whole weekend, emerging for air only after everything is done. I devour a TV show the way Galactus devours worlds.
Saving for Botox 
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