Constantly scribbling from Manila to Amsterdam
It isn’t every day I can savor breakfast from one of the best bakeries in Paris—if not the best. So, one crisp and sunny morning, I trekked across Paris on foot, baby and husband in tow, to worship at baker Christophe Vasseur’s temple of bread and ideas…
the aptly named Du Pain et des Idées.
This is about a week late, but I can’t let it just slip by. Tala turned eleven months old!
Not today, obviously, because she turned 11 months old while we were in Paris.
“The Eiffel Tower? That’s for babies!” *yawn*
I thought it was super cool to celebrate that milestone there. She was… well, less than enthusiastic. I can’t wait to show her these pictures one day and watch the retroactive wave of coolness hit her.
Am I getting older, or is it just getting harder to recover from travel? We came back from Paris on Wednesday and I’m still more than a little dazed. Tala brought a raging diaper rash back with her, the house is a mess and I’m paying for my oyster-greediness with a mild case of food poisoning, but of course you don’t want to hear about that. You want to hear about Paris!
I’m thankful for the chance to keep returning to this vast, complex, beautiful city. Each visit is always mix of well-loved favorites and first-time experiences. Yet each time, I keep discovering things that I haven’t yet done and still want to do, and I just want to keep coming back for more.
I’m incredibly thankful to have returned to Paris with both Marlon and Tala. In 2006, Marlon proposed to me in Paris; seven years later, we’re back not as fiancees, but as a family. We tried to recreate this picture at Trocadero as best we could, marveling at how little and how much things have changed since then. Funny and amazing, how life works out.
I’ll be back next week to write about Paris in more detail: food, shopping, sights, and our favorite experiences together as a family. Till then, have a wonderful weekend!
Well, this is unexpected. After years of (mostly) turning a blind eye to Valentine’s Day, we’re changing it up a bit. Not only do we have plans for tonight—a cocktail workshop at Amsterdam’s historic House of Bols—but in a serendipitous twist, we’ll also be celebrating Valentine’s weekend in the most romantic city on earth.
Oui, Paris!
A work trip to Paris fell into Marlon’s lap came along at just the right time. After agonizing over budgets and schedules and other boring, adult, parent-like things, Marlon threw caution to the wind and offered me the weekend in Paris as a Valentine present. How could I turn down such a present? Besides, as Audrey Hepburn famously said, “Paris is always a good idea!”
I’ll be back next week to report on Valentine cocktails and Parisian pleasures. In the meantime, happy Valentine’s Day and have a love-ly weekend!
As a Catholic school girl, the word “uniform” always brings me back to years of white starched blouses and strictly monitored hemlines. I couldn’t wait to break free of my school uniform and was happy to leave that word behind. Well, here I am using “uniform” to refer to my personal style for the first time in years.
Confession time: I’ve fallen into the habit of wearing tight bottoms with oversized tops. Honestly, it took me a few months to realize I was dressing as if I was still pregnant! Once I discovered I didn’t need to be in an Outfit to drop off Tala at the gastouder or to swing by the Kruidvat for a pack of diapers, it was easy to succumb to the warm, forgiving embrace of sweatshirts and leggings. Winter, when it seems pointless to dress up because it all gets covered up by a coat anyway, has simply reinforced that attitude.
But wait! I haven’t given up just yet. Comfort and style don’t have to be mutually exclusive. I figure if I’m going to stick to the basics, those basics ought to look good. If I’m going to just throw on a sweatshirt to pick Tala up from daycare, it might as well be a cool one, right?
This was how I justified the madness of queuing up for the Isabel Marant for H&M collection last November. It turned out to be a logical decision, because I’ve been living in my Isabel Marant loot all season long.
In the earlier half of winter, I could get away with just a warm angora cardigan over this black-and-white linen t-shirt—which is, by the way, from the men’s collection. Seeing the clothes-crazed violence in the women’s department forced me to sneak up to the men’s floor as both a shopping and survival strategy. I barely escaped with my life, plus a few good buys!
This is the coat I throw over everything: my navy wool blend duffel coat from Uniqlo. I love how roomy it is, although I wish it was more resistant to pilling.
I thought I would swear off roundneck t-shirts after turning 30, but I couldn’t resist this cute feather-printed linen tee. With a pop of fuschia stretch velvet and SuperCosy fleece tights from Primark, it’s one of my more dressy errand outfits that’s surprisingly comfy.
Another menswear score: my favorite sweatshirt of the season! This sold out almost instantly, and I wasn’t prepared to inflict bodily harm on anyone to grab the last piece in the women’s department. I just love the combination of color and comfort, print and practicality.
Isabel Marant’s modern spin on bohemian chic inspired me to dig out some of my favorite pieces of ethnic jewelry, like this silver and lapis lazuli necklace I bought while on honeymoon in Jodhpur. I thought it was a bit much for laid-back Amsterdam, but somehow it works with the casual ease of a sweatshirt and boots. I’m glad to get a little more use out of it!
Do you have a “uniform” too? What are your go-to outfits, and how do you keep them fun and fresh?
Do you remember the first time you heard music? I can’t identify a particular song or artist as being the first, but I remember gradually becoming aware of music at about three or four.
My earliest musical memories include being upset at not being allowed to go to a Menudo concert with my mom and sister (I was appeased by a Menudo poster, so my reasons might not have all been musical). Mom’s folksy-hippie favorites John Denver and Peter, Paul and Mary sang of magic dragons and mountains in springtime on long weekend drives to Laguna. I learned to sing nine year-old Lea Salonga’s I Am But a Small Voice in kindergarten, and burst into tears whenever she sang about missing her Mama.
Like most Filipino kids, classical music was never part of my formative experiences with music. I heard classical music for the first time when I joined the Glee Club in college. While rehearsing for competitions in Europe, we were half-envious, half-terrified by stories about how our European competitors grew up with the Kodaly method or knew how to read notes from childhood. And though my friends—many of whom are now professional soloists, conductors and choristers—infected me with their passion for classical music, I still don’t know a whole lot about that world.
That’s why I love the idea of Babyconcertjes: live classical music performances for babies 0-2 years old. I love the idea of giving Tala something I never had: exposure to classical music at an early age. How could I not seize such an opportunity?
Founder Anna Smith created Babyconcertjes to give parents and babies an opportunity to enjoy beautiful, thoughtfully chosen pieces of chamber music in a relaxed environment. Each 45-minute concert is different, featuring local musicians who play solos, duets and small ensembles. Babyconcertjes are held in Utrecht, Den Haag, Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Gouda and Haarlem.
Last weekend, Marlon and I took Tala to her first Babyconcertje, featuring Annabelle Ferdinand on the baroque violin and Marike Tuin on the baroque cello.
They played a small selection of pieces by Handel, Corelli and a few others, and presided over a mini sing-a-long for the little ones. We participated mostly via “smile and nod”, as all the Dutch parents knew the songs, but we didn’t!
At first, Tala seemed more interested in the other babies than in the music. Sitting right up front was a good move—then she listened to the musicians for a surprisingly long time.
Movement was part of it too. Daddy swayed her around in time with the music, and held her when she got really excited and started bouncing up and down.
Did Tala like it? Seems she did. Will she remember it? At this stage, no. Is it good for her? Science says yes, with numerous studies documenting the benefits of music to developmental aspects such as spatial reasoning, language learning and more. Did we enjoy our first Babyconcertje, and would we take her to one again? Most definitely!
Find more information about Babyconcertjes on their blog and .
As you can probably tell from the last few blog posts, being home in Philippines stuck with me for a while. Blogging about Manila, El Nido and my family helped me extend the experience just a little bit longer.
I might’ve been somewhere else mentally and emotionally, but in reality, life goes on here in Amsterdam. And it hasn’t been so bad. The Dutch have been complaining about this “non-winter” (hardly any days dipping below 0ºC, and no snow) but I like it—it’s made the transition back from the tropics easier.
Here’s what we’ve been up to at home over the last few weeks.
To celebrate the start of the tulip season, Dam Square became a pick-your-own tulip garden for a day—specifically, on National Tulip Day. It was a bit touristy for my taste and we came too late, but it was fun seeing something a bit fresher and greener than the usual living statues and street performers on Dam Square.
Tulips are indeed starting to pop up all around the city. It will take another month or two until they grow big, bold and bright, but right now they are a welcome pop of color in this dreary winter.
Another mid-winter perk-me-up: sales! Many stores go on sale to start creating space for new spring inventory. After Manila, I declared a shopping moratorium on clothes for Mommy and baby… but not on books!
Cologne-based publishing house Taschen is one of my favorite publishers. I can’t get enough of their beautiful and affordable books on design, architecture, film, art, culture and fashion. So I couldn’t resist hitting up their mid-winter sale for some seriously discounted books! I’ll share my loot in another post.
Getting back to our regular routines has made life easier and more comfortable. But on weekends, I love to find a little something out of the ordinary, like a new … and a wickedly good Bloody Mary.
Speaking of pop-ups, a city icon popped up right in our backyard!
There’s a permanent Iamsterdam sign at Museumplein, but there also seems to be a traveling one. This one came to our neighborhood park together with Amsterdam Fashion Week.
Guess who tried to climb it, but realized he isn’t 12 years old anymore? 
It wouldn’t be an Amsterdam winter without lots of gloom and rain. We’ve spent many a day indoors, nursing a cough or cold, watching the world from the warm confines of the living room. Thank goodness for giant windows, and a baby who likes to watch the rain.
But whenever I can, I try to override this mid-winter slump with a walk around the neighborhood. Even running errands in a city like this is enough to perk me up.
Our El Nido trip would not have been possible with the support of my mom and sister, who took care of Tala for four days, giving us our first 24-plus hours of alone time in nine months.
To me, the decision to leave Tala alone with family members for a few days was a no-brainer. But as I told friends about our plans, I ran into a surprising variety of reactions from thumbs-up happiness (“That sounds awesome!”) to concern (“Are you sure?”) to mild horror (“I could never do that!”).
Is it just a cultural thing? I wondered. In the Philippines, where extended family members are abundant and hired help is affordable, leaving babies in the care of others doesn’t seem to meet as much with as much struggle or controversy.
Curious, I tuned in to the conversations of moms in my little English-speaking expat bubble, and discovered women who claimed they would never feel right leaving their babies alone for more than 24 hours with a) third-party caregivers, b) family members, or most surprising of all, c) their own spouses.
I was pretty shocked, to be honest. Is your spouse mentally challenged or physically incapacitated? I wondered. You married him and had a child with him, and now you can’t trust him to keep that child alive for 24 hours? I began to question the part of me that was positive that this was the right thing for us. But I also began to suspect that it came down to control and trust.
Despite the occasional doubts and a last-minute case of the nerves, I did end up leaving my baby alone. We survived, she survived, and it went great! Here are a few things I learned along the way.
Staying in the town proper is the way to visit El Nido on a shoestring. While the swanky side of El Nido is definitely still on my bucket list, there are a few reasons—other than your budget—to enjoy El Nido town.
Waking up to this literally on our doorstep was one. This beauty is democratic: everyone gets a gorgeous sunrise on the water, regardless of the number of digits they forked over for accommodation. I love it.
Natural beauty is a given, but what I enjoyed most about mainland El Nido is how undeveloped—and how real—it still is. Granted, this means that you’ll discover the less-than-idyllic side of island living. For example, there’s no electricity from 6am to 2pm. There are no ATMs on the island, so bringing enough cash for your entire stay is a must.
The soil is too salty and claylike to grow vegetables, so veggies have to be brought over by sea from Manila, sometimes as infrequently as once a month. There are no poultry farms on the island, because the intermittent electricity supply can’t power the heat lamps needed to raise chickens on a large scale. Anything not grown or produced here—from eggs to bottled water—has to come in by boat, which inflates the prices of most basic goods on El Nido as compared to similarly remote provincial towns and villages.
Despite all those challenges, generations of people—Filipino and foreigners alike—have fallen in love with El Nido and have chosen to start afresh here.
That’s why you’ll find that the longest lines for dinner are for the authentic wood-fired pizzas of Trattoria Altrove, housed in an old bahay-na-bato…
and why you can get a real French crepe from a sawali-roofed plywood shack just like this.
In fact, the presence of a thriving French community in El Nido is the raison d’etre for La Salangane, my favorite bar and restaurant of this whole trip.
You know you’re off the beaten track when the track suddenly begins to look something like this.
You may bump into a few fellow travelers on the same path…
in fact, more than just a few… 
But you may not always end up at the same destination.
The most important thing you need to know about the beaten track: more often than not, going off it is totally worth doing.
By far, the best part of our exploration of El Nido by tricycle was arriving at the remote, far-flung and almost totally deserted shores of Nacpan beach.
