Checkin' Back In

Hello, it's been quite a while. Hope you missed me. I did miss you that's why I'm breaking my long silence. Lost track of when I last blogged. I had checked and my last “decent” post was over two months ago. I have been silent while my mind has been abuzz. I couldn’t put my thoughts down, as I was afraid of the conclusions I would make if I did. Writing is a way of clearing my mind, going to the core of what’s been bothering me. Writing has to be heartfelt for it to be good; it exposes one’s soul so to speak. It behooves the writer to be true unless that writer is writing fiction or novels. But blogging is different. It’s personal, it’s mostly about one’s life, preferences, passions, advocacies, opinions, wishes, angsts, battles, all reflective of the blogger’s state of mind or, in general, the blogger’s present circumstances which are in large part the source of motivation to write or blog.

The fascination over having someone like you, even if there are just ten of you out there, reading me, empathizing or disagreeing with me, or maybe even bashing me, keeps me coming back. Times when I feel I need a little bit of attention or validation, and some introspection, I take to writing again. The thing with being out of radar for some time is that I start again fumbling, grappling, as I find my way to hitting the subject of this post. Please bear with me.

The last summer was one of the best I've had. I enjoyed it immensely with my children. It was my first summer when I was with them all the time except for a one-week vacation they had with my in-laws and a five-day summer camp that my eldest attended. We went on two outings with my side of the family, three with my in-laws, and one with just me, hubs and our two kids. The last one was with both sides, and I think it’s what the kids would remember the most, the trip to Enchanted Kingdom. But for me, I liked the Baguio trip the most although it was already June and raining when we went, it was like my first time again to experience its fog, veggies, strawberries, flowers, ube, markets. I was pregnant with my eldest, who’s now turning 12, when I visited Baguio before this last trip. Despite all the developments and the negative things said about it, including how its air quality is even poorer than Manila’s, Baguio has retained its charm for me. I look forward to visiting again and exploring it more.

I have amassed photos to keep from the last summer alone. I’m planning to make photo-books of each trip so my family could in a way relive the fun and drum up excitement for future vacations. For many years, a decade now, come to think of it, we’ve stopped printing photos, and just kept them in external drives and the desktop. This, to my little dismay, prevents me from retrieving very old photos and making throwback-Thursday (TBT) and flashback-Friday posts on fb or IG. Seriously! Well, yes, those who have been (tirelessly) following me on fb know that with all the fb albums I have, I can just extract old photos from there. True, true. But, the point is, I believe it’s important to also have photos printed and kept in boxes, or printed straight onto photo-books. Now, I know why I see plastic photo albums always on sale in bookstores. I have an empty one that I bought years ago but never got to use, and may never will.

Looking back again to my summer of 2014, I feel so blessed and happy being able to take my two children wherever. They are spaced six years apart, my eldest, as I’ve mentioned, is turning 12 this year, and my youngest just turned 6 recently. We would take off any time, and I only needed to pack their clothes and slippers. We would sit in restaurants and I could enjoy my meal as they enjoyed theirs. It has always been at the back of my mind, an option until now, to have another child. But, at my age, and at this juncture, it’s best for everyone that we remain a foursome family. I am not saying this in definitive terms, of course, as who knows what might tomorrow bring, right?

Ok, what was I afraid of again? I’m not saying. I have skipped it, thankfully. I will spill though when I have become comfortable sharing it. I’m just happy now for putting an end to my hiatus. I hope I get inspired again to share things happening with me and around me. Writing is fun. I derive great pleasure from it. You should try it. To end, let me share that my son bought yet another notebook and has been madly scribbling his thoughts wherever (I hope not during his classes). Happy thoughts and happy vibes to you and yours. J

Sharing some treasured photos:

BAGUIO

THUNDERBIRD RESORTS RIZAL

HOLIDAY INN

LA LUZ RESORT, LAIYA, SAN JUAN, BATANGAS

ENCHANTED KINGDOM

Simple Joys in Summer

You know summer has come when you sit or lay still inside your house and sweat forms on your forehead, nape, upper part of your lip, and yes, in those areas that need more than ever extra protection from unpleasant odors. And if you're a parent of growing children, you know summer is here when you can sleep in a little bit, either because you don't need to prepare the kids for school, drop them off, or traffic has eased up a bit going to work (or has it?). 

My youngest had her preschool graduation last April first. The next day, I found myself on a grand vacation of my life! I am out of work and the school is out, which leaves me with less of the daily routine chores, more flexibility with how I use my time, and the privilege to be with my two fast-growing children practically 24/7. So this summer is extra special, a first of its kind in my humble life. 

Today, I count my blessings and feel grateful for the many favors as I watch Garrett and Gab enjoy themselves in the pool, free to explore, learn, and just have fun. I enjoy the breeze as I lounge by the pool side. I felt the urge to type up my thoughts so here I am sharing with you my bit of heaven on earth. The hubby is hard at work while we chill. At the end of the day, his toil is rewarded knowing he's able to provide for his family. 

Torn

I’m torn.  I swing from yes to no, on a weekly, and of late, on a daily basis even. Yesterday, I had convinced myself that it was okay to resume my full-time job. Today, after I accompanied my daughter for a test that would decide if she was ready to be accelerated to second grade, I swung back to no, I am going to remain as a stay-at-home-mom, an SAHM, as they call moms that stay at home full time to care for their children.

Some moms work from home, and they call themselves work-at-home moms or WAHMs in short. I have the highest respects for all moms. To me, those who take on full-time jobs are the more courageous ones. They are the those who are able to let go, trusting that their children can thrive without them needing to be by their side all the time. It’s a tough call for a mom to work because her family needs her to, leaving no other option. There would always be some guilt that she is not spending enough time with her children, missing milestones or school programs, and that she’s relegating too many mommy responsibilities to other persons. Time is important, and it’s difficult to do quality time with your children when you have a job that requires you to put in at least eight hours a day, Monday to Friday. The commute to and from work is a daily battle for most. Add to that pressure from bosses, and you have one mom dealing most likely with what they call as “hurried woman syndrome,” juggling many tasks – homeworks, school projects, bullies at school, a husband, the helpers, and while at it, she tries so hard to keep calm, run the household as expected, and make her bosses happy. I was one hurried woman. Frantic, panicky, in doubt I was doing things right. It’s hard. There was always that heavy, nagging feeling that I was devoting myself more to my work rather than those for whom I was supposedly earning for. But, yeah, it boils down to time management and priorities. There are those who can manage to have a work-life balance. I super admire them.

I have a close friend who sacrifices sleep, getting an average of four to five hours only, but she is very successful raising two children while keeping a very taxing corporate job. Hands down, she is a doting mom, a good daughter, a loving wife, sister, friend, and all the other hats she wears. That girl is simply on fire, driven, committed. She has her priorities in check, never missing out on important school activities and being there when her children are sick. I tell her how she is such a superwoman, and she tells me that she doesn’t know how she does it. She just keeps going. But whenever I asked her if she was ready to give everything up in case her husband could fully support them, her answer was a straight yes, she would. That’s my friend. But, hey, no, she is not just my friend, she is one of my very best friends. I wish she would get to read this. J

Time flies, really. I need to make up my mind. I want to go back to work because I feel I need to. I feel quitting before I am 40 is way too early. There’s still a lot to experience, people to meet, places to see, and, of course, earnings of my own labor to forgo. It’s not only about money, it’s being able to reach that point when I could easily say, this is it, I’ve had enough, I can happily retire, and look back with no regrets.

When I think about it, one thing also that makes me want to work again is that I would like for my daughter to remember that her mom used to work, was passionate about work, and earned her own money. Call me a stereotype but I grew up seeing my mother go to office everyday, fully made up, wearing nice office clothes. I don’t want my daughter to finish school and then just marry some guy and decide she wants to have children and be a full-time mom. No offense to anyone. It’s just my personal take. My mother-in-law never had a formal work, but she was able to raise well-mannered and accomplished children. She sews, gardens, cooks, and has really grown into her role so gracefully. I love her dearly, because she reminds me to be kind and gentle and patient.

I still have some time to decide. Help me, will you? Give me a yes or a no. Please click on comments and let me know your thoughts. Thanks! :-) 

Simple, Fun Vacay in November

The past week was family time. We did go out of town but only to visit with family in Bulacan on the hubby’s All-Saints’-Day birthday. It was the children’s short break from school. Although I would have wanted to take them for a short vacay away from home to discover and explore new places, the week has turned out to be fun and memorable – bonding to the max as we were always together the whole time (well, except for a trip to Divisoria with my sisters, which I could not skip, este, resist).

We had a “staycation” at Bonifacio Global City where the kids enjoyed trips to bookstores, impromptu trick or treating at Bonifacio High Street, and swimming.

For my part, I secretly enjoyed that we had to dine out a number of times. We have discovered a new restaurant that has easily become our new fave – Lugang Café at SM Aura. They serve Taiwanese cuisine. It’s a bit expensive but lucky us, we dined at 50% off on a credit card promotion. 

The kids also loved it at Café Mary Grace where Garrett got to write a short note to the owner, hoping it would end up displayed on one of their tables, inserted under the glass top.

The week has been blissfully packed with bonding – talking, eating, sleeping, swimming, together. And we even managed to squeeze in some biking for the kids. We went to the Quezon City Circle, and were pleasantly surprised by its nice park. I have for so long wanted to take the kids there. It was ages ago since I was there last. The playground is pretty impressive. Check out the pictures.

Of course, there is nothing more precious than time spent with family. The kids, as always, had a blast spending a day with their cousins.

Tomorrow, we go back to our routine, recharged with happy memories. We all caught the cold virus though, must be due to the change in weather and yes, the busy (but FUN) week that was.  

We now await the Holidays. Ho! Ho! Ho!

To Let

Woke up thankful to feel some relief from a sinusitis headache. Today I celebrate with my family our 12th wedding anniversary. It's a special day minus the pomp. We're halfway now to our silver year. I have stopped asking for flowers after our 10th when he obliged and had a huge arrangement delivered to my office. I gave up requesting for jewelries as well, as I now get why he wouldn't budge on this issue. :)

We affirm our love in the most simple and basic ways, a gaze, a touch. We often find ourselves in each other's company comfortable in peaceful silence, not needing to find words to say. Difficult times at work and everyday events are not shared in detail. It's enough that we know we have each other. No matter what, we always see the silver lining. It's this day in 2001 that we can always look back to. We have come through trials related to health. With two beautiful children and a solid respect for and trust in each other, the years ahead are exciting as we do not know what life can throw our way, but the constancy of our love gives great comfort.

Siblings

*First shared via friendster blogs 31 July 2005.

I don’t make an outline of things I write about. I write as I think. I write when I’ve an urge to do so—a need to put an order to the cluttered thoughts in my head. So now I’m at it again. Now, let’s see where this urge takes me. It’s past 10 p.m. now; I had only five hours of sleep yesterday, but my mind won’t give me rest. God, I’ve been like this the past days since I’ve learned I passed ‘this’ exam, which I’m still not at a liberty to talk about.

Four sisters, aged 38, 36, almost 30, and 21. Arlene, Jenia, Princess, and Diana, respectively. With my name in the sequence, you darn well know, of course, what blah I’m talking about. Yep, us: me and my siblings. And yes, you noticed right, we’re all girls.

Have us stand side by side, and those who don’t know us might have no inkling that we’re related. Because, unlike many siblings, our physical similarities are not striking. Our hair types represent a spectrum, from kulot, buhaghag, unat to wavy. We’re also pretty different in built. Butt and front sizes also differ. Hehehe! I should stop blabbering… Attitudes, yes, in that aspect, too—we’re our own person… It would be interesting to ask my mother how she sees each of us.

So who’s the most good looking? In reference to us, that indeed is a very subjective question, which brings me to cite the all-too-familiar adage: beauty is in the eye of the beholder. True. Answers to this question have been very variable among relatives, neighbors, and friends. But then the implicit assumption is that none of us four is unsightly (for lack of a better term, pangit, if you will). And that to me is enough (I’m the darkest kasi, dehado na kagad.).

But ask: who’s the most generous? It’s Ate Arlene. The most thoughtful? Ate Arlene. The social butterfly? She’s the only one among us: Ate Arlene. The best dressed? She again. Most kikay? Of course, she. Wittiest? She. Most loved by people? Must be her.

Proof of these is her very long list of friends, acquaintances, kumares, kumpares, and of course, inaanaks. She’s a natural. People are drawn to her charm. Is she charming? She sure must be for how else has she befriended so many?

Whom did she take after? The luckiest of us four, she took after our mother’s openness and optimism—two elements that easily win friends…

So you think she’s my idol? I don’t know. We’re quite opposite. But I’m truly proud to be related to her by blood. And all these praises come with a purpose. Oh no! I didn’t just give them out for no reason. Hehehe!!! It’s her birthday come 12 midnight (it’s now 11:25 pm). Tomorrow’s August first. It’s Ate’s birthday.

But, well, she is ONE of a kind!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ATE!!! We love u!!!

If this haphazardly composed ‘post’ makes someone happy, then I’m thankful for the URGE that got me started typing furiously away on my laptop this late…

Walang Ligawan

The following article, by a stroke of luck, got published in the Youngblood Section of Philippine Daily Inquirer in its Feb 10, 2000 issue. I retyped the piece (as published) so it could hopefully inspire people to fall madly in love--as doing so, I believe, is one of life's most wonderful events!

I submitted this piece with my pen name "Pise," to make it anonymous although some friends and relatives, who knew me by that nickname, guessed that I wrote it.

At the bottom of the article, the following information about me appeared:

Pise, 24, works as a research associate at the University of the Philippines Los Banos while pursuing a master's degree in development communication.

*******************************

If divorce were legal in this country, chances are our own statistics on divorce would approximate those of the United States. This thought leaves me wondering why, in the face of all the complexities that family life brings, I still cannot shake off my desire to be married.

I come from a broken home. But I was blessed to have a great woman for a mother. After my father deserted us, she picked up the pieces and strove to make us a family again. After some time, she met another man. And when they decided to live together, she brought me along.

I was only five then. My two older sisters stayed on with my lolo and lola, while my stepfather helped my mother raise me and paid for my education. Now, I have a 15-year-old sister by him, and she is the angel in the family.

To the credit of my mother as well as my stepfather and my grandparents, my sisters and I finished school. All of us are now gainfully employed.

The separation of my parents was not as traumatic to me as it was to my sisters. I don't harbor any resentment against my father since I have very few memories of him. One thing I am sure of is that he was good-looking and he welcomed the attention the girls gave him. It still amuses me to dig up from my lola's baul old pictures of him and his girlfriends.

My father took after my lolo, who also could not resist a temptress. My lolo was a soldier, and he had a wife wherever he was assigned, my lola said. And like my father, he had children by other women.

My eldest sister will be turning 33 this year. My father's youngest child is just three years old. If he had remained faithful to my mother, he could have retired by now. Well, I suppose his six other children are now his source of pride and joy.

Still, it's quite sad that he will not be the one to walk me down the aisle when the time comes. I think it's proper that the one who raised me and sent me to school be the one to give my hand away. When my eldest sister got married, it was lolo who marched with her. We sent father an invitation, but he didn't come.

Let me make it clear that it is not my intention to tarnish my father's name. Our family's history was never a secret. The truth might hurt a little, but we have come to terms with the past and I am happy with the way things turned out for all of us.

What I would like to write about is my fetish for marriage, which is quite strange since I know from experience the risks attached to it. I've been nagging my boyfriend to take me to the altar. And for about two years now, the talk about our wedding has spread like an infection. Wherever I go, people ask, “Is it true? When?” I guess the blame is on me because my standard reply is, “Yes, it will be soon.”

But I give that answer only to stop any further inquiries. It's hard to find excuses for why we still have not settled on a date.

The truth is, it's not only the date that my boyfriend and I are still trying to agree upon. There are a multitude of other details we have to thresh out.

He wants a simple wedding with only a selected few in attendance, I want all those who would like to come to be invited. He wants to hold the wedding in some faraway province to discourage guests from coming, I want everyone to celebrate with us.

He has other weird ideas, but I think he is just using them to send me one message: “Wait a minute, girl. I am not ready yet!” He insists that we should tell our guests to come in very casual wear (read: jeans and shirts), reasoning that he hates formal weddings where guests need to dress up and watch their manners. He says he wants everyone to feel happy and at ease during the wedding.

But his craziest idea yet is to indicate in our wedding invitation that we do not expect gifts, but instead, we will be charging an entrance fee for the reception. To me, that's a surefire formula to to turn our would-be guests away. It is enough to make me cry whenever we discuss our wedding plans. So it is not surprising that while there has been much talk about our engagement, we have no definite plans until this time.

My boyfriend and I had an unconventional courtship. We were in the same batch in college and took the same course. At first, we were not even civil to each other. I thought he was too arrogant, but I had to admit that he was charming. He did not seem to notice that I existed and so I also did not take much notice of him.

Then after our graduation, circumstances forced us to be together. Our work took us to many provinces in Luzon. During the long trips we had to make, we would engage in casual chats while stuck together in a van for hours on end, and often ended exchanging barbs.

After the trips, he would, in his own unique style of storytelling, tell Kleng and Marlon (who happened to be my “sis” and “brod,” respectively, in a college organization) how much he hated me but would later admit he could not deny that I was affecting him. In my case, after spending several days and nights with him, I discovered with great surprise that he was a good and intelligent person. My disgust slowly melted and a deep admiration took its place.

Then one day, while our officemates, Alvin and Locel, were doing a survey in a distant province, I was left in the office with him. He asked me out after work. The timing was perfect as I could no longer contain the feelings I had been suppressing for months.

We went out and after gulping down a bottle of beer and a glass of margarita, I was instantly consumed by the alcohol, and the floodgates were opened. So there I was confessing how much I hated him for not showing any interest in me. I was gesticulating wildly while I told him everything. The sight of me acting drunk caught the attention of the bar owner who decided to come to our table with a cup of coffee, free of charge, to sober me up. But it was not the coffee that made me sober (I did not even touch it), it was the embarrassment. So we left the place in a hurry and went to a playing field in a nearby school campus.

It was his turn to make a revelation. He said he was afraid to admit that he was falling for me but since I had already told him my feelings, there was no point in keeping his own to himself. We sat on a bench for several hours, telling each other about all the things that were important to us, including our families.

That eventful night of August 12, 1996 became the official date of our anniversary. We felt that it would be ridiculous to go through the process of ligawan as we aleady knew what the answer would be. Thus for a long time, our friends in the office had no idea that we were already going steady. I could not let them know since that did not even see him court me.

After that night, I knew in my heart that he was the one for me. I felt how good God could really be. I was not expecting such a beautiful blessing, He gave it to me unexpectedly. Amid all the chaos in the world, life is full of wonderful surprises.

I have been in this heady state of being in love for about four years now. And each day I thank God for entrusting me to a man I know I will one day marry. Meeting him changed my perspective on marriage. I have no worries about what lies ahead. I trust him completely. He makes me want to grab the future and build my own family as soon as possible.

I know my boyfriend is still hesitating to take the plunge, but I know that he wants to do it as much as I do. And now that everyone we know will start anticipating our wedding on account of this article, he might just be finally convinced to take me for his wife.

Dilemma

Note: Reposted from my friendster blog; originally posted June, 2005.

Career or family? Which would you choose? This spells dilemma when you’ve just started a family at about the same time that your career is perking up with more attractive opportunities. If you’re a woman, weighing the pros and cons tends to tip the scale in favor of family matters. Unfair it may seem, but I think that it just simply is the natural order of things—the woman takes care of the house while the man earns a living.

So, where does that leave me? Am I breaking any biblical tenet here, wanting to have a career aside from that of being a wife and a mother? Am I making a mistake of trying to balance the scale somehow?

Now, why am I pondering these things? Why am I throwing these questions at you? Why am I boring you with my problems? Nothing, really. I merely want to think and write my thoughts while I’m at it. It’s because I’m now almost 30, and I feel that my professional growth has been stunted somehow in my present occupation. I’ve this nagging desire to explore my options while there’s time.

The wisdom I always call upon in sorting things in my mind is that your children would inevitably be independent, capable of doing things for themselves on their own. Your role as a mother would ultimately just be limited to providing guidance. A child will eventually outgrow his constant need for your presence. And when that time comes, what would keep you busy? Could you spend so many hours day in and day out doing routine chores in the house? That scenario is exactly my greatest fear.

That’s why I chose to maintain a job after giving birth. But, now that my firstborn is almost three years old, rather than having another baby, I feel like focusing on finding that career which is a snug fit to my skills, a career I could grow old having…

I want to raise a family but I also want to build a career… A dilemma. But choosing both might be the wise decision. What do you think?

Nanay

*Shared June 2005 via friendster blogs; photos have just been added.

I’ve been itching wanting to write something about my mother maybe because I can’t tell her directly how much I love her. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s my ego. I guess we were just not raised in an environment where being expressive is commonplace, as my mother herself is not demonstrative physically.

Let me tell you more about Nanay. Her parents were both farmers. Theirs was a typical large family in the barrio. Born second in a brood of nine, she took care of her younger siblings. She grew up in a barrio without electricity. She must have been a dreamer as a girl. She knew that nothing would happen to her life if she stayed on in their province. At that time, unlike many young girls who were easily enticed to marrying young boys from their locale just after entering puberty, my mother was wiser and more practical. She went away to find work in another place.

My beautiful mother back in the late '70s.

She met my father while she was living with some relatives in Laguna. I can’t say that marrying my father was a good decision on her part. But, marrying my father was again proof of her sensibility, as my father is an educated man. She finished high school supported by my father and she already had my eldest sister tugging at her skirt when she received her diploma. She also earned some units in college. I don’t know the chronology of events that led to my mother’s working in Manila, while my sisters were left in the care of my grandparents (parents of my father). I was still too young (around four years old then) to comprehend the problems my family was going through.

Pinning a riboon on Ate Jen at her elementary school.

I still have recollections of myself, seated on the steps going up to our small house, waiting for Nanay to come home each day. She took me with her when she decided to reside in Manila. We would come to Laguna every weekend so she could see to my other sisters' needs like washing their clothes. Nanay was practically my world then. I still could remember being scared when she would leave me behind, fearing that something bad might happen to her and she wouldn’t come back. Nanay was my safety then.

Growing up, I’d often hurt myself from riding my bike or from making a run to win a point in games children of my time were fond of playing (patintero, agawan base and the likes). Nanay would carefully treat my wound, and when it hurt real badly that I couldn’t suppress crying, she would also cry seeing me in pain. When the electricity was out, Nanay would patiently fan us while we slept. When I complained about having sore legs from too much playing, Nanay would knead them until they didn’t hurt as much. She would even peel off the shells of quail eggs and boiled peanuts, which I would buy while on the bus going to Manila from Laguna. These things, small they might seem, are etched in my mind. They remind me of one of God’s greatest blessings—that of having my mother.

During my kindergarten field trip.

At a girl scouts' activity. I was in 2nd grade.

At my elementary graduation with my mother standing beside Sen. Nikki Coseteng who donated the medals. Nanay was always dressed well. She is the original fashionista whom my daughter Gabee takes after. :-)

According to my husband, meeting my mother convinced him all the more of his intentions for me when we were still going steady. He thought that being my mother’s daughter, I would naturally take after her traits. Unfortunately, my traits are more often the opposite of my mother’s. I’m cautious and I tend to be pessimistic; Nanay is very optimistic. She takes life one day at a time. She’s pretty much flexible whereas I’m quite rigid about procedures and doing things the right way. She doesn’t have the patience for budgeting but she knows how to raise money when needed (“madiskarte”).

I am too organized compared to her; I keep count of my expenses. Each of my expenses is entered into my excel spreadsheets which I update regularly. I have quite an orderly filing of my receipts, doctors’ prescriptions, and important documents, while Nanay has her records scattered all over the house.

But, if there’s one thing I would like to attribute to her, it would be that of having a good heart. Her nephews and nieces, who came to Manila for their college education, could vouch for her kindness and generosity. She was their “Kakang Belen” they would go to when they were short of money to enroll or when their parents in the province were unable to send their allowances on time, or when they were into any mishaps.

She raised us not in a typical manner whereby a parent tells his/her child what’s good and what’s not, what should be done and what should not be done. I couldn’t remember any instance that she told me to do a particular thing because it was right. Her style was more of the free-wheeling type. She let us decide for ourselves and take responsibility for our actions. I also couldn’t remember being spanked or shouted at by her. (Well, maybe at one time or another, she must have spanked me or shouted at me, but those times must have been very rare as I couldn’t recall them anymore).

I guess Nanay raised us doing what was right, not telling us what was right. And by her example, we naturally developed into what we have become—mature, responsible adults. No one among her four daughters (myself included) gave her a cause for any heartbreak whatsoever. How could we?

I love you, Nay!!! Thanks for everything! I hope I’d be able to raise my children the way you have raised me, Ate Arlene, Ate Jen and Diane.

At Universal Studios Singapore, 2010.