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Design Folder

Dutch Design Week is the kind of event that makes you go all home TV shopping and say… “But wait! There’s more! It’s an inexhaustible treasure trove of inspiration, and it was hard to select just a few things to blog about for the posts that I did here and on MangoJuiced.

That’s why when the kind folks at Design Folder invited me to blog a couple of guest posts on DDW, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. In this week’s guest post, I focused on home furnishings and lighting that are great examples of the Dutch knack for curiosity, simplicity and playfulness in design.

Check out my roundup of home furnishings and lighting from DDW at Design Folder, and be sure to check back for another post from me soon!

Design Folder is all about design—from the latest in architecture and interior design to the trendiest furniture and interior accessories. 

Design Folder is a Manila-based website dedicated to sharing design ideas and inspirations through its different sections such as Space Matters (interior design and architecture), Conscious Living (green design), Spacelift (makeovers), Design Speak (styles and themes), Design Trail (travel), DIY (design-it-yourself) and more. Every post is geared towards helping readers spruce up their lives by improving their own little space. 

Friday night in Istanbul

Every city has an iconic avenue, a vital artery through which the lifeblood of the city flows. Paris has its Champs Elysees, Barcelona its Las Ramblas, and Singapore its Orchard Road. What Istanbul has, is Istiklal Caddesi. 
That’s precisely where Marlon and I found ourselves on our first evening in Istanbul. We were far too tired to do much more than take an evening stroll, after getting up at 3am to leave Cappadocia and traveling the entire morning. On our way there, dozens of Turkish flags hung up for the Victory Day national holiday waved us on. 
You know things are about to get interesting when you see public art like this, at the south end of Istiklal Caddesi just minutes from our apartment. 
We hit the first bend in the road with a slight downward slope. Looking down at Istiklal Caddesi from that gentle hill, two things immediately came to mind. ”Madness!” was the first. What followed next, I had no words for at the time. But now I know what it was: it felt like home. And this shows you why.

Much has been said about how Istanbul is where East meets West, Europe meets Asia. Seeing this for the first time is where it really hit me, with a jolt. Yes, it looks like a European boulevard. Even the idea of an evening stroll is so European. And if you have any doubt that you are still in Europe, you only have to peer into the narrow, sloping side streets that branch off from Istiklal Caddesi.

But the energy, the rush and the madness is all Asia. And instead of wilting at the sight of this crowd, I felt alive. It was the spark of energy I needed after a long day of traveling… and a long time away from home.

I think it mostly has to do with the people. With a population of 13 million, Istanbul definitely feels much more like Manila (pop. 19 million) than Amsterdam (pop. 800,000), and that is especially obvious on Istiklal Caddesi. It seems that half of Istanbul was walking there that Friday night. Another thing about the people… well, they look like me! I can’t count the number of times someone talked to me or Marlon in Turkish during our stay.

Istanbul feels like a city of contradictions. A loophole where 1 + 1 does not always add up to 2. A metropolis bubbling with a kind of craziness I realized that I miss. A place where you can go wild… 

… or go to church. Or both, because this store and the church are right across from each other!

Another thing that reminded me of home? Street food.

Just like Manila, kestane, or roasted chestnuts, appear in the streets when it’s cold. I just had to have some!

Street food vendors are everywhere on Istiklal Caddesi. Some of them, like this guy, were popping open mussels on the sidewalks. At first I thought they were touts promoting seafood restaurants, so I walked away from the first few that I saw.

But then the acid-bright yellow of plump, glistening lemons caught my eye. And you know how I love anything lemony.

These yellow “flags” are how I discovered midye, mussels stuffed with rice and spices.

At €1 a pop, it was easy to just keep stuffing midye after midye into my mouth. The vendors know this, so they will just keep popping mussels open and handing them to you until you tell them you’ve had enough. But with my mouth filled with the taste of spices, sea, rice and lemon, it was far too preoccupied to bother with the word “stop!”

Cat country

Upon our arrival in Istanbul, Marlon and I were both delighted and relieved to find not only a lovely apartment in a fantastic location, but the cutest, most endearing welcoming committee ever. Say hello to Georgie and Bavaria!

Georgie and Bavaria belong to Suzan, our fantastic Airbnb host in Istanbul. My personal theory is that cats are an indicator of a great apartment and a thoughtful host; I was definitely right this time.

Black-and-motley Georgie was the most affectionate cat ever, purring and cozying up to us literally from the moment we walked in the door. (Note: hire her to give Rogue some coaching.) She even climbed into bed for a cuddle on our last morning… just like Rogue would if we were at home! As you can see, she had lots of bonding moments with Marlon. Bavaria was more reticent, but being deaf and very old, that was easy to forgive.

Turkey is cat country. There are big, beautiful, fluffy cats everywhere—the type that would be pet store material in Manila. Being the crazy cat lady that I am, I couldn’t resist snapping pictures of the cats I saw. Coo over the cuteness, after the jump!

In Amsterdam there are shop cats, restaurant cats and even pub cats, but street cats are a rare breed. I didn’t realize how much I missed them until I got to Turkey. They were everywhere—yowling to be fed under the table in Goreme or sleeping outside a jewelry store in Istanbul. And though they were always underfoot, not once in six days did I see a single Turk kick or even shoo away a cat. I even saw a hulking, macho leather-clad biker type bend down to scratch the cat sleeping underneath his bike.

Even the (slightly) posh restaurant we treated ourselves to on our last evening in Istanbul had its own cats, complete with their own bowl of food and water by the door. It’s hard to claim to be really posh with two fat cats like these sprawled across the floor. And I like that.

Dog lovers, I haven’t forgotten you. Say hello to the scruffy scoundrel of central Goreme!

Don’t say I didn’t throw you a bone. Har har har. 

MangoJuiced: Getting gezellig

G-E-Z-E-L-L-I-G. When I first arrived last January, I had no idea what it was but heard it all the time. Now, almost one year later, I completely understand.
So, what on earth is gezellig? And why is it the one thing you absolutely must have to survive a cold Dutch winter? Find out in this week’s post on MangoJuiced!
MangoJuiced is a webzine for anything and everything that interests women—from fashion and family, to pop culture and beauty, to travel and lifestyle. Follow MangoJuiced on  and … and don’t forget to check back in for a new post from me every week!

Welkom Sinterklaas!

Santa who? In the Netherlands, this season is all about Sinterklaas. Forget December 25th. Here, the day for gift-giving is the 5th of December, because that’s when Sinterklaas—Sint Nikolaas, or Saint Nicholas—comes to bring gifts to good children. 
In mid-November, Sinterklaas arrives in town via steamboat from Spain (!) and is welcomed with a huge parade. Public transport in the center of Amsterdam shuts down as what seems like every child in Amsterdam (and their parents) flock to the streets to welcome their beloved Sinterklaas. 

Tradition dictates that on the evening of Sinterklaas’ arrival, children must put a shoe in front of the fireplace with a carrot or hay as a treat for Sinterklaas’ white horse. The next morning, they’ll find a present in their shoes from Sinterklaas.

Here comes the man himself… after the jump!

Each town has its own Sinterklaas. I love that you can actually see Sinterklaas—we Santa-believers had to rely so heavily on our imaginations! Every generation of kids who grew up in the same town will share memories of the same Sinterklaas, and I think that’s wonderful. 

Amsterdam’s Sinterklaas was just perfect. He looks gentle, jolly and regal all at the same time. I was surprised to see that Sint is actually… a Catholic bishop. For a nation that fought tooth and nail to kick out the Spanish, the Dutch sure didn’t want to give this Catholic up.

Just as Santa has his elves, Sinterklaas has his own helper, Zwarte Piet (Black Pete). At the parade, there were dozens of Zwarte Pieten. They were everywhere: juggling, singing, dancing, rollerblading, handing out fistfuls of sweets, receiving letters for Sinterklaas.

I know. Blackface, right? These days it’s hard to mention Zwarte Piet without getting into a political discussion, especially if you hang out with mostly non-Dutchies like I do. As a concession to being politically correct, the origin story of Zwarte Piet has shifted over the years. From being Sint’s slave, to a freed slave who was so grateful to Sint that he stayed, today’s Zwarte Piet is simply black from chimney soot—you know, the chimneys his gift-giving work requires him to slip in and out of.

But I don’t think the Dutch will ever get rid of Zwarte Piet. And to me, that’s okay. I guess being from a Kafkaesque country where many things don’t make complete sense, I have some compassion (if you could call it that) for traditions that aren’t completely PC. If something is so ingrained in the fabric of a culture, what would happen if you pulled it out? What would you replace it with, what would you be ripping it out for, and would it be worth it?

Maybe it’s because I just think of it all as one big Ati-atihan in medieval garb. Or maybe it’s because Zwarte Piet bribed me with these tiny gingerbread treats called kruidnoten (“spice nuts”). Yes, my political allegiance can be bought with cookies.

And you should have seen (and heard!) the children. If I had a Euro for every tiny shout of “Piet! Piet!” I heard that day, or every little happy, soot-blackened face I saw, I would be a rich woman. Kids love Zwarte Piet. They love him so much they even dress up like him.

Even the smallest ones.

Zwarte Piet also has a special task for naughty children. Are you ready for this? He stuffs bad boys and girls into his big jute sack and takes them away to… Spain.

Dear Sinterklaas,
I’ve been a bad, bad girl. Where do I sign up for my trip to Spain?
Love,
Currystrumpet

Just a girl

Now that I’m done with Cappadocia, I can move on to blogging about Istanbul! But before that, I thought I’d take a breather to put up the fashion illustration I finished last week in watercolor class.

Penny has been pushing me to let to go of my nitty-gritty details and learn a faster, looser style that uses more brushwork than drawing. One of the ways to do that is to copy a work done in that style. I chose this piece to study because I’ve always been interested in fashion illustration, and I was getting a little bored with landscapes.

I had lots of fun with this girl, and she taught me a lot! I learned simply by looking at this piece and analyzing how it’s done (how the colors are mixed and how layers are built up), before attempting it myself. She didn’t take too much time at all, and I felt very relaxed and free painting her. I’m looking forward to doing more of her kind, and applying the style to my own original illustrations. 

A taste of Turkey

My past experience of Turkish food in the past can be summed up in three words: fast, greasy and cheap. In Cappadocia, I became reacquainted with this cuisine in what was a long-overdue “proper” introduction. It turns out that whatever version of Turkish cuisine has made it out of the country and become ubiquitous around Europe are but pale fast-food shadows of the real thing.
Care for a sampling? Let’s eat!
Top row: At Cafe Safak in the center of Goreme, the owner Ali’s mother makes a competition-winning lentil soup (warm, hearty and cheap!); a refreshing cucumber, tomato and onion side salad; pide, Turkish-style pizza with cheese and sausage. Bottom row: “Pottery” kebap, a meat stew (your choice beef, chicken or lamb) slow-cooked in a terracotta pot that’s broken at the table; chicken kebap fresh from the pot, served with rice; tangy pickled beet slaw; local red wine from Cappadocia.
The Turkish are a people after my own heart. They love their sweets and so do I! Thanks to the Turkish sweet tooth, meals always ended with a variety of delectable pastries. I chose to wash mine down with the omnipresent çay, or Turkish tea, while Marlon opted for very strong (too strong for me!), almost mud-thick Turkish coffee.
Top row: Sweet and chewy borek, a layered and baked (or fried) phyllo pastry that seems to be the Turkish national snack (it’s everywhere!), best with a glass of warm Turkish tea. Bottom row: Marlon enjoying his manly coffee with delicate bites of baklava.

I thought it was going to be easy to stick to my low/no-carb diet while in Turkey. (“They eat a lot of kebabs right? Grilled meat? I should be fine!”) As you can see, I was way off the mark… but quite happy to be wrong!

Panoramas, peaks and pigeon poop

On our last day in Cappadocia, Marlon and I signed up for a day tour through our hotel. The tours are pretty standard (with a standard color-code system) throughout all the various tour agencies in Goreme. We opted for one that would take us to sites that were further from Goreme and would thus require the use of a car.
Our first stop was a nearby lookout point with a beautiful panorama of Goreme. Remember the flat-top mountain in the distance from our hot-air balloon ride?

Then we drove about thirty minutes to the ancient underground city of Derinkuyu. Built in the 8th century B.C. and enlarged in the Byzantine era, Derinkuyu was an underground refuge where entire towns, complete with their livestock and possessions, could weather enemy invasions. Though its series of chambers, tunnels and stairs extend eleven stories into the ground, only 10 percent of it is accessible to the public today.

Confession time: I’m claustrophobic. I braved the first room on the first level, but after attempting to walk further in I knew I couldn’t handle it. So I stepped out and decreed Marlon our official representative and photographer.

We worked up our appetites for lunch with a hike through the truly stunning Ihlara Valley. A 16-km gorge cut deep into the mountainous landscape, we hiked only about a fourth of the way through it (4km, which took about an hour to an hour and a half). Four kilometers was not too bad at all. Remember, I like hiking now!

Hike along with me, after the jump!

We began our hike with a visit to one of the many old churches carved into the walls of the canyon. The pattern junkie in me loved these ancient frescoes on the ceiling and walls.

Then we were off at a rather fast clip. Again, I felt like a character in an adventure novel.

… walking amidst scenery taken right out of an epic fantasy.

I almost expected a pair of unicorns to come galloping down this stream. Very Legend, circa 1985.

This was definitely the most active day tour I’ve ever been on—because more hiking and climbing followed after lunch! This time, it was up the mountain to the stronghold of the Nome King (Return to Oz, 1985)… or the Selime Cathedral in real life.

The Selime Cathedral is steep and requires effort. No handholds or stairs here. I struggled, but a German couple on our tour just hopped all over this thing like a pair of mountain goats. 

It’s worth the climb, though, to access the hauntingly lovely complex of monasteries, churches and refectories carved within these rocky peaks.

The view of Tattooine from the top is a big bonus. The tour guides are very emphatic in correcting the myth that parts of Star Wars were filmed here, but you can see why people would think that.

On the way back to Goreme, we stopped for a view over Pigeon Valley.

It’s called that because all over this valley, the rocky peaks have been turned into pigeon houses. Pigeons were very important in Cappadocia, which is largely an agricultural region, because they provided fertilizer for the crops.

Of course, no agency-organized tour can end without a big selling opportunity. For our last stop, we were taken to a workshop that processes onyx, a mineral mined in this region. Some of the onyx baubles were pretty, but stone is not really my thing.

However, I did win an onyx egg for answering a trivia question. (Marlon couldn’t believe I know who the founder of the Republic of Turkey was. He thinks he’s married to Hermione.) So at least I got my Cappadocia souvenir without having to spend a cent.

See it, do it

I just found a collage that I made at the beginning of spring, when I first started getting back into my creative groove. I was done with it, but not quite.. until I saw these tiny hot air balloons in a magazine ad and decided to toss them into the mix at the very last minute.

Six months later…

Coincidence? Or is it just what happens when you put something out into the universe? You tell me. I’m just glad it worked out this way. As R. Kelly sings: “If I can see it, then I can do it!”

Take a hike

As a leisure activity, hiking has never appealed to me. For one thing, as I’ve said before, I’m not the biggest fan of walking. Also, Southeast Asia (particularly the Philippines) is not the easiest place to go traipsing into the wild. It’s always too hot, humid and sticky, mosquitoes and insects abound, and then there’s things like the NPA (which is the kind of thing parents warn you about on a field trip to Mount Makiling.)
My impression is that hiking is a rather dreary activity. What’s so fun about trudging on and on for hours? Why would anyone want to walk that much? 

After a sunset hike through the stunning scenery of Cappadocia, I now know why.

How Cappadocia converted me, after the jump:

On our way back to town from the Goreme Open-Air Museum, Marlon and I saw the path in the photo above. It simply… beckoned. So we decided to walk off the road and go on our first hike.

And you know what? I really enjoyed it.

I never really thought about the context of hiking: what you see while you’re walking. I’d always thought of it as simply… walking. (Ugh.) 

But you never walk in a vacuum, do you? When you’re walking through scenery like this, you just want to keep going. Its beauty simply compels you to go on. (And the cold actually helps!)

Walking through the Cappadocian landscape is like being a character in one of my favorite fantasy, young adult or adventure novels. In this wide, circular clearing, I felt like Aragon (okay, maybe Frodo) waiting for the attack of the Nazgul in Lord of the Rings

… while these red arrows spray-painted on the rocks (helpfully pointing the way to Rose Valley) reminded me of Labyrinth, where Sarah scrawled red lipstick arrows on the flagstones to mark her path through the maze.

I’d read that Rose Valley with its red rock formations is been a great place to watch the sunset, but with more than 2 km to go, Marlon and I were both worried we wouldn’t make it back to the road before dark. Luckily, we found a perfect place of our own to hole up in.

After taking a few photos from our little cave…

… we watched the sunset together in silence.

Then it was time to walk back to Goreme, which welcomed us back with this lovely lavender sky.

Is this what I was missing all along? If hikes are always this lovely, I can definitely see myself hiking more. Consider me a convert!