A Suave Shoe Repairman

Preparing for a day's work-- the sign doubles as a cover for the compartment containing old shoes and more. That is obviously not Alex doing the fixing.

I finally took a photo of this repairman's stall that I often pass. The sign says:

Repair / Alex / Mr. / Swave
Shoes / Shine
Umbrella / Payong
Bags / Zipper
Water Jag

The use of the slashmark is actually pretty effective in compensating for the poor handwriting (spacing problems, perhaps). There is only one word translated into the native language (payong means umbrella), while the rest would be understandable to any Tagalog speaker. In all, it's pretty charming and straightfoward.

(Although I do wonder how the same guy repairs water "jags", and what kind of water jugs he can mend with the same tools he uses for the other goods on the list.)

This Alex fellow chose to give himself a nickname "Mr. Swabe", another way to spell "Mr. Suave". This persona infiltrated national consciousness five years ago as Parokya ni Edgar launched their 70s-inspired song (see video below), which then brought about a movie with a protagonist called Rico Suave.



(You can also find an English translation of the lyrics on this blog.)

Urban Fence

This one is hard to jump over.

A wooden fence (with a bit of PVC pipe) tied together to block an entrypoint at the Magallanes jeepney dropoff area in Pasay. It is similar to, and may have been built by some of the many migrant laborers in Manila familiar with building, fences around rural homes and farms.

Jeepney Cleanliness Tools

Rolled tightly and tucked above the long rearview mirror spanning the width of the driving chamber. Below it, "God Bless Our Trip".

Jeepney drivers keep an arsenal of circular cleaning rags, actually sewn from a bunch of scrap fabric. I've lately been observing how they store these while not in use.


Like cinnamon rolls, they look even more fantastic when different colored cloth is used.


Just four rags, and just sort of put on top of the mirror, near a Jesus sticker.

Byproduct

Using agricultural waste material as protection while shipping.


Maximizing use of sack by providing a "hat" made of dried sweet potato vines.


Crate of bananas protected by (under the rope) pieces of banana trunk.

The Beetles

Where are we? What are we doing here?

I was walking down Asuncion and, beside the jackfruit vendors, spotted moving nuggets, which turned out to be salagubang or scarab beetles.


Two plastic baskets filled with crunchy crawlies.


They eat leaves.

The lady selling seemed almost like a circus trainer, making the insects crawl up her arm and replacing them on the surface of her container, putting a few back into the bed of banana leaves. She said they were harvested in Batangas, where they are abundant in agricultural areas.


Bling bling.

"Adobo, with vinegar, soy sauce and garlic, or just gisa (sauteed)", the lady answered in Tagalog, when asked how they are prepared. Personally, I'd like to see meat-eaters begin to consume more of these non-industrial, harvested sort of things.

Tambucho

O, Muffler Tree!

I like how auto shops display tambuchos on iron stands, coming up like pine trees or fishbones.

The Spanish word tambucho was originally used in a maritime context to mean bulwark, then some part of a kayak. Somehow, it is what we use down here to refer to mufflers, those magical, sound-cancelling apparatus for cars and motorcycles.

The piece has its place in Philippine comedy and popular figure-of-speech-formation. I come from a childhood when clunky automobiles ruled the street. Not uncommon were broken (or missing) mufflers that made cars sound comically noisy.

I've heard snoring people being likened to bus and jeep tambuchos, which are the worse in more ways than one-- "smoking like a tambucho" is our local version of the expression "smoking like a chimney". Doesn't say much about our emissions regulations.

Stockholm in the Summertime

Public art.

Ah, Sweden. Where things decompose very slowly, where comparatively few people (to someone raised in chaos) roam the streets, where bars close at 2AM, where the food is creamy, people are polite, and the train is always on time.


Ingmar Bergman Festival outdoor installation. Big hand.

I have a love for Stockholm that is contrary to my warmth-loving constitution, because I love both its walkability and its people. I find the latter to be quite crazy on the inside.


Hook.


Random bathroom.


A thermometer outside the hotel room window. Truly a novelty.


Wallpaper.


Green Party exhibit at the Central Station.


Their former Mayo Uno protest site.

Death by Creamy Dessert

Swedes like their berries and cream. The former grow wild in the many forests, while the latter is due to their long-standing relationship with cows.


Slices of ice cream (yes) and some berries with panna cotta.


Cloudberry pie with accompanying bowl of cream.


Cheese cake with some berries and cream yet again.

Wooden Cards

One of our hotels had magnetic room cards made of thin wood instead of plastic. I realize this may look like some kind of advertisement, but it is pretty cool.

Härnösand

Oh.

Sweden is not exempt from creepy empty towns and suburbs. My last time around was in a few big cities and pretty rural areas, so I was a bit shocked to be situated in some sprawling, Lidl-fed areas.


Movie set.

Härnösand is, in all fairness, a beautiful town. But the buildings seem extra stark and eerie with the general lack of people. It seems like large movie set, where nothing is actually produced locally, except for the activity at customer service centers. People I spoke to talked of an exodus towards surrounding cities, as well as a reliance on institutional guests who are staying in the town.


Old photo of the harbor town.

You can catch a live webcast of its town square here.


Where are the people?


A gift!