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ferusaurelius · 4 years

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Nihlus Fic Headcanons

My latest fic, The husbandry of victory is blood (on AO3), is basically a Nihlus Kryik and Mass Effect mercenary/batarian culture headcanon backstory where @expertmakodriver reacted by asking me to ... please translate w/e I was on about.

So here it is! The English translation of my Nihlus Kryik worldbuilding art project.

In reality, this type of character sketch is something I would normally keep private. But since we need more Nihlus content, both it and the headcanon basis are all public and free to use and/or transform as you see fit without attribution.

Please, I’m begging anyone who might want to use any of these ideas in whole or in part: write it and save me from having to do it myself. You do not need to credit me, but I would appreciate a link to your work so I can promote it! :)

Tfw you actually need to annotate your own fic...

Long post - everything is under the cut!

Organized by the order each element is referenced in the fic, with the divided sections labeled as [NUMBER] on the left.

Edited 5/28/2021 because I forgot some things.

[Title] “The husbandry of victory is blood” - Taken from “Sparta Says No” by A.E. Stallings. I actually thought about using this as an alternative title for another fic, but I figured this background sketch for Nihlus more aligned with the themes. I strongly suggest you go and read the poem without taking my word for the following interpretation: the contrast between growth and destruction, and civilization built through conquest or through agriculture. I enjoy the high-level commentary on society. The metaphorical encounter between farming and war is something I wanted to bring to my work, and I wanted the title to color the tone of the epigraph from Virgil’s Georgics. On a more personal level -- my grandfather joined the military in part to seek out opportunities he wouldn’t have had if he’d stayed on a farm, and I decided to draw on that experience for Nihlus.

[Epigraph] - Virgil, Georgics Book I (tr. H. R. Fairclough) - I picked a public domain translation of the poem and went hunting around for a line that had juxtaposed farming and war imagery. It’s a fairly common classical motif! Wars often stopped and started based on the seasonal harvest and the necessity of feeding the community and supplying the troops. You can’t fight a war and gather in wheat at the same time. Digging up the weapons pf the dead in farm fields is a powerful image. My take on Nihlus draws on the tension between fighting and negotiation that I also connect to the symbolic opposition between agriculture and warfare. The Georgics are also just really neat.

[1] Half-face markings - I could write a whole headcanon post on turian colony markings and how mercenary modifications fit in with them (and I will at some point). You’ll see in this fic that I regularly use terms for how much ‘real estate’ the colony markings cover. My HC is that there are variations of colony markings that can be worn as minimalist (smallest critical details), half-face (upper or lower, may include simple full-face designs without a lot of paint), full-face (both, usually more elaborate), and full-crest (what it sounds like on the tin). These are all just different styles and up to personal preference, though there are a few cultural connotations or stereotypes about people who choose which version. Plus I felt really bad for people who might have super-complicated full versions of markings and wanted to give them something more aesthetically lightweight that would have the same meaning.

[1] Batarian trader patois - An evolving lingua franca with many dialects. Nihlus is uncannily fluent at the one spoken in the Terminus, which is mutually intelligible with the dialect spoken in the Attican Traverse. This is a language without a formal codex that sounds a little strange even to batarians born into the Hegemony. Since batarians have been around and in contact with the Citadel and council races for ~1000 years longer than turians (true if the timeline on the wiki is correct, but I haven’t done the backdating myself), I HC that batarians have a more refined and developed spacer and trading culture. Traders and smugglers are infamous for liking to be beyond Hegemony control and when their government withdrew from Council space, they just kept up with business as usual. Many of them have a shared religion based on debate and argument over the meaning of the Pillars of Strength and the way to live an honorable life.

[1] Terminus languages - They exist, both with and without formal linguistic codexes available to ordinary citizens of Council space.

[1] Hierarchy basic - The common turian colonial language spoken in Hierarchy space. Nihlus was born outside turian space, so he had to learn it from his parents and from educational videos. While he has only a vague accent, certain words and phrases he uses come off as very strange to turians who were raised in Hierarchy space.

[1] Draughts - A popular ancient board game dating back to before the Romans. Pieces move by sliding on the board or jumping over each other to capture. I originally wanted to use river stones as a metaphor, but Nihlus at that age had never seen naturally flowing water. I figure everyone has a version of a capturing/marker/stones sort of game.

[1] Amma and appa - Batarian words for grandmother and grandfather. Nihlus is a bit of a ‘surprise’ baby for his parents. This nice older smuggler couple are longtime associates of the mercenary group and, while they have never done fighting themselves and have no children of their own, they are friends of his mother and father and are absolutely delighted to “adopt” him. He is their smol spikey grandson, they teach him to speak and act like a proper young batarian, and anyone who argues with them about how exactly he is related will end up on the wrong side of an airlock.

[1] Vatar - A canon planet in the Mass Effect universe with a cold and inhospitable environment, located a short relay hop away from Omega (“downtown”) in the Terminus Systems. Mercenary groups have outposts dug into the surface. I rolled with it.

[1] Falx - The turian name of the mercenary group Nihlus is born into. A falx is both a Roman entrenching tool and also the most overhyped Dacian curved blade weapon you’ll see in ancient art and literature. In essence? The word has been used to refer to both weapons and farming tools for a very long time. The group is a batarian-lead mercenary company with a very long history of turian cooperation, which enjoys stable political ties to other such batarian splinter groups. Traders and smugglers often form the links between them. The batarian word for members of this same group translates as “harvesters” or “reapers.” HAHA. And you thought this was a no-Reapers AU…

[1] Truce customs - A batarian mercenary outpost thing. If you’re friendly and in mechanical distress, or if you have something to trade, it’s not unusual to head to a known group of mercenaries and ask for truce on tightbeam broadcast to get someone to meet you or actively flag your ship with their ident codes (aka: make you temporarily register in local space as belonging to their ‘fleet’). This is usually for medical essentials, emergency mechanical trouble, and also serves as an informal way for Terminus merchants and traders to make a living without having to worry about being boarded every time they deliver the groceries. It’s considered a grave breach of etiquette to violate truce terms and those who do are hunted down as examples to the rest. Truce terms make “ordinary life” possible for outposts that are otherwise on the edge of traveled space.

[1] Trade-cloth - A canon quarian cultural object. Mentioned in the the fandom wiki and probably part of a quarian codex somewhere. Intricately patterned cloth is common on the Migrant Fleet, but the personal cloths are seldom given to outsiders. Nihlus’s gift is one used in trade, but displays a pattern with more ‘friendly’ cultural connotations than something that would be sold and mass-produced in a shop. It was made special for him by his childhood quarian friends. It’s something that it would be appropriate for him to wear like a scarf on formal occasions when he’s dealing with quarians, or when he’s invited to quarian parties or festivals.

[1] Colony crescents / Falx sickles - Yeah there’s some repetition here, but it’s mostly to contrast the two. I HC that Nihlus’s base colony markings are already curved. “Sickles” are embellishments which add a cutting or combative edgeline in some places and very overt stylized weaponry to standard colony markings. They are additions or alterations that are unique to mercenary groups and may read as “flamboyant” or “aggressive” because they are noticeably different in appearance to Hierarchy turians. This is more or less on purpose, and is a bit on the taboo side. One does not wear these additions or draw their markings in these styles without genuinely belonging to one of these groups -- the patterns are not easy to reproduce correctly or in the right places, and they are generally a source of stigma in Hierarchy basic training.

[1] Sand-bath - How you clean a turian when water is scarce and everyone has to share it.

[2] Draw and fire from retention - The shooting-sports specific term for “shooting from the hip.” Kinda. This breakdown of a scene from Collateral, one of my all-time favorite Michael Mann films, will give you an idea. All of the referenced gun techniques are also more or less real, and lining up your body posture so that it helps with aiming and putting the rounds where you want them to go is a real thing. Nihlus has a great deal of practice in shooting as self-defense and was training alongside professionals from a young age. Going to the range is one of his hobbies (but not mine, I’m lame and that’s loud).

[2] Triginta Petra - A canon Mass Effect world that is a dustball home to hardscrabble turian farmers. Kavala Kryik’s family were some of the first colonists and they’ve been scratching a living from the surface since she was nine years old. They are very proud of this fact, since it gave them opportunities they wouldn’t have had on their native Oma Ker (also a canon turian world).

[2] Laskaris - Nihlus’s mother’s original family name. Kavala Laskaris. While I don’t have any particular headcanon about whether or not turians do the whole ‘changing surname’ thing when they marry or pair off or whatever, Kavala really liked both the alliteration and the overall aesthetic. Joked with Inaros Kryik, her husband and Nihlus’s father, that she only married him for his pretty colony markings.

[2] Lupulin - Literally, hop acids and the essential oils that you get from ‘hoppy’ beer. A direct reference to hops (Humulus lupulus) and brewing, because why not? Actually is a mild sedative and produces a bit of a chemical high.

[2] Stiletto - A pistol from Haliat armory (turian weapons manufacturer).

[2] Blooded sickles - Worn only by mercenaries who are full / fighting members of Falx or their direct allies. Batarians have their own culturally-coded marks, some of which have been adopted and/or adapted by their turian members as embellishments to colony markings. I HC that newer “commercial” groups like the Blue Suns and Nyreen’s Talons, without a shared cultural background, are imitating this style of marking rather than the other way around. Merc-born turians with old-style batarian trade connections tend to recognize each other through these symbols, which are used most often outside of Council space (i.e. the Terminus Systems and the Attican Traverse).

[2] Pillars of Strength - Canon batarian religious artifact. I treat them as a text or a particular philosophy that values free will and independent action as the signifiers of ‘strength.’ While I don’t have a fleshed out or specific HC for what the ‘tenets’ are, I do know that slave implants are treated as anathema.

[3] Struthious - A reference to Earth ostriches. Some kind of chicken-like prey animal that turians like to cook and eat. Mostly because the thought of Nihlus running around like a chicken to entertain his sisters made me laugh.

[4] Cutter - Bigger than a personal clipper and better armed, with living space for a crew. They come in various sizes and are smaller than frigates.

[4] Cup of mourning - A turian funerary ritual. On Taetrus, performed with a distinctive form of dark ale. Different colony groups have different cultural traditions.

[4] Thalia, Tomyris, and Traian - Nihlus’s three turian siblings. Thalia and Tomyris are his younger twin sisters. Traian is the youngest and his baby brother. While they’re only hinted at in this fic, I do plan to make some references to them in the Air Needing Light arc at some point. There’s also a chance they’ll get their own short!fic appearances.

[4] Hierarchy military grants - A HC pool of money that the Council races put up to fund large-scale basic training for anyone (turian or another client race) completing compulsory citizen service.

[5] Talons and suns - Generic references to other symbols that are common incorporations for mercenary groups. I HC that these were adopted and color-coded by the Blue Suns and the Talons rather than conceptually created by them!

[5] Fuck the cause, we’ll die for a drink! - Profane versions of the turian Hierarchy anthem are popular drinking songs among the merc-born. If it’s a patriotic and well-known song, you can pretty much guarantee turian mercenaries have parodied it. Awkward for colony-born squadmates who find these renditions hilarious and catchy—but also a little horrifying.

[6] Optio Sideris, 85th Atrax Legion, Fifth Cohort Operations Section - A one-off turian Blackwatch OC I may bring back in another fic at some point because I ended up liking her. The Hierarchy military organization borrows from the HCs I use for the Air Needing Light AU: 85th Atrax Legion is a joint special forces organizing legion made up of six cohorts. The 5th Cohort is informally known as Blackwatch, while the “Operations Section” is a generic term used by intelligence operators. Optio is a mid-tier leadership rank.

[6] Batarian body language - Batarian language and manners are highly dependent on physical cues according to the Mass Effect canon. I took this one step further with a HC that Nihlus is essentially a native speaker of turian-adapted gestures that translate successfully into batarian social patterns. This physical vocabulary is most refined and most present in culturally batarian mercenary and trading groups with a strong history of turian association and recruitment. While older turians can learn and approximate the gestures, they are best learned and absorbed in childhood. Nihlus “speaks” a form of gestural batarian that places him as a native of the Terminus Systems.

[6] Interrogating batarian prisoners - No torture involved! Optio Sideris trains Nihlus in a more practical form of intelligence gathering that involves building rapport, establishing trust, and remaining consistent. Even pirates or smugglers who would not normally give information to a Hierarchy patrol flotilla can be convinced to—if not speak—occasionally offer hints about the locations and activity of slavers. Nihlus is notable for actually being conversant in traditional batarian moral interpretations of the Pillars of Strength, as well as being able to walk the fine cultural line between guarded respect and abject deference.

[6] Merc Red - Nihlus’s batarian nickname among the patrol flotilla’s prisoners. A sign of individual respect, since it contains no profanity and is just blandly descriptive.

[7] Broken weapons - A traditional sign of thanks between two non-allied mercenary groups when one has agreed to truce terms. Mostly symbolic.

[7] Tattoos - The permanent marking method of choice when turians are full-grown and have developed a strong preference for the color and personal style of their colony markings. Nihlus decides on a complex ‘full-crest’ Taetran colony pattern embellished with Falx blood sickles. This is more or less him being loud and proud about both his colony origins and his mercenary background, as well as putting them on an even footing by tattooing the entire pattern: mercenary symbols and all.

#mass effect #nihlus kryik #my headcanons #my writing #air-needing-light #long post #fanfiction #nihlus kryik headcanons

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johannesviii · 5 years

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Top 12 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2000

This was the hardest list to make so far, so yeah, it’s a top twelve because I felt disgusting cutting the last two songs. Oh well. Screw the rules.

I turned 12 that year! I had my own cd player, which was also a radio! I could make tapes and burn cds. I could even BUY cds too if I saved all my money for a couple of months! School wasn’t great, because of some bullies, but I still had some friends. I loved Pokemon and drawing in the park. Life felt good.

Music had never sounded better.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

Not gonna lie, this list changed A LOT over the course of this post and I had to rearrange it several times. And then I gave up and changed it into a top 12. Also, this list of honorable mentions could almost make it a top 20 since several of these (half of them, actually) were on the top at some point.

All the small things (Blink 182) - I’m really glad these guys are still around today, to be honest. They always make me smile when I hear their new songs on the radio.

The Riddle (Gigi d’Agostino) - Love it, but it loses some of its appeal without the music video.

Lady (Modjo) - I claim overplay for this cut.

L’Alizé (Alizée) - More on that later.

Move your body (Eiffel 65) - Would have made the list in a more mediocre year, I swear.

Optimistique-moi (Mylène Farmer) - I literally said “self-care” before making this cut. Also the music video is great, it’s an artist trying to escape from some sort of nightmare circus, and a magician helps her. Very underrated music video.

Music (Madonna) - The most painful cut of all. I absolutely loved this song and how weird and disjointed and broken it sounded, and had it on several tapes. And yet there’s no room for it even with a top 12.

And now, the actual list. Warning: it starts with a curveball.

12 - J’pète les plombs (Disiz La Peste)

US: Not on the list / FR: #29

A French rap song about a guy losing his job and being stuck in traffic and subsequently going postal.

Here’s the kicker, though. This guy was rapping for my city, and this music video was filmed mostly in the estate I was living in at the time! That McDonalds at the beginning? It was across the street! That bus stop was in front of high school! Heck, I painted the rocks in that park at the end several times already!

And it became a huge hit!! You have no idea how excited we were in middle school. Everyone knew the lyrics (translation here)! Even if some parts were very rude! We still loved it! We were quoting the entirety of the McDonalds part where the guy wants an egg in his sandwich and is ready to fire a harpoon to get it. “Désolé, il est midi et après midi eh ben l’mac morning c’est fini” was a goddamn meme here.

It would probably have been less funny if the singer didn’t look like a cute nerd, it turns the music video into a hilarious parody. Especially because instead of a gun, he’s menacing people with a harpoon, a giant wooden hammer and a water pistol.

Legends only.

11 - One More Time (Daft Punk)

US: Not on the list / FR: #30

Around the World was a repetitive song, and while I kinda liked it, I didn’t quite get the hype around it at the time. But One More Time is a huge party, and everybody is invited, and all the drama stays at the door, and everyone just has a great time. And it has one of the most fitting music videos ever.

It’s a monster of a song, and even if it’s still a bit too repetitive to be listened to on a loop, it was a delight everytime it was on the radio. And it still is! Godspeed, Daft Punk.

10 - Innamoramento (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #91

I really, really tried to keep her off the list. And I failed. Innamoramento, the album, is one of my favorite albums of one of my favorite French artists ever and I’m weak, and out of the five (five) singles out of that album, I only managed to leave two out of my top 10 lists.

This sounds absolutely fantastic. There’s no way I could kick it off the list, even to make room for a guy who was rapping for my estate. And not even for goddamn Daft Punk.

Kill me now.

9 - Absolutely (Nine Days)

US: #35 / FR: Not on the list

I discovered this song in 2008 through a Silent Hill 3 AMV about Heather. Yeppppp. It’s here, and it’s still great 11 years later, and I love it, and this song was so good I put it on my playlist immediately and it stayed on it for several years.

The lyrics never really deliver their promise of telling a “story”, but it’s still a fantastic, bouncy, uplifting song, and it made my world better, and I have to thank that ephemeral band for that.

And I especially loved the very brief pause before the last “girl” in the song. Very relatable.

8 - J’en rêve encore (De Palmas)

US: Not on the list / FR: #27

Listen. I have no idea what’s up with these specific chords, but they are the sound of a weird mix of nostalgia, anger and above all, discomfort. No other song has the exact colors this one has and no other broadcasts this very specific mixed feeling.

Too bad the lyrics are yet another breakup song, or more specifically a post-breakup song (even if the lyrics are very, very good ; I just checked who wrote them and it’s Jean-Jacques Goldman. I had no idea but now, I can definitely hear it), because the music is really something else. At least to me. Is anyone else hearing this?

7 - The Real Slim Shady (Eminem)

US: #51 / FR: #28

Wow. Would you look at that. The ex angsty angry teenager loved Eminem. What a surprise, uh.

To be honest, I already genuinely liked this song as a kid even if I could only understand a few isolated parts and words, and the fact that this guy was pissed off and clearly being offensive, possibly towards everyone, was enough.

Now that I can understand the lyrics entirely, I obviously don’t endorse all of them (like the very backhanded argument for gay marriage. Jesus), but I can’t help it, this song still kicks ass. It would be dishonest to leave it out of the list. I loved it so much at the time. And I still enjoy it a lot.

6 - Natural Blues (Moby)

US: Not on the list. Not on any US year-end list actually. I thought it was big everywhere but no. What happened. / FR: #49

There’s overplay, and then there’s “I keep hearing this song everywhere and yet I can never get enough of it, and I will sing it at school, and I will put it on tapes, and I will listen to it even when it’s not on the radio.”

If you asked me what the year 2000 sounded like, it sounded like Natural Blues. I genuinely can’t believe it’s not on the US year-end chart.

5 - Around the World (ATC)

US: Not on the list / FR: #48

This has no right being this catchy without ever, ever becoming annoying. What kind of evil pact did you make to get this result. How.

4 - Jeune et Con (Saez)

US: Not on the list / FR: #70

The title is “Young and Stupid”. It’s an extremely angry song against the establishment. Didn’t pay a lot of attention to it when it came out because well, I was 12, but I would drink up this kind of angry, angsty song only three/four years later. It has aged like fine wine too and feels like the ultimate ‘Ok Boomer’ song ; here’s a translation. It is brutal. You’re welcome.

If I had better taste this would be above the next two songs.

3 - Daddy DJ (Daddy DJ)

US: Not on the list / FR: #5

As I said in the intro, I started to BUY music that year. I could pick what I wanted to own, as long as my parents thought the cds were appropriate.

So I went to the nearest record store. It was called “Madison” and had a chrome aesthetic, with neons and fluorescent 90s shit everywhere, and banners with band names on it, and somewhat menacing posters (the Iron Maiden ones looked scary). It was very intimidating.

And so, 12 years old Johannes, under dad’s supervision, picked the cd they wanted above all the other cds in the shop knowing THAT one wouldn’t make anyone angry at home, went towards the desk, slapped a lot of coins on it, and bought this, trying to look as fierce and determined a 12 y.o can, which isn’t much.

It still slaps nearly twenty years later and I don’t regret a single thing. That’s all I have to say about Daddy DJ by Daddy DJ.

So I was making this list, feeling pretty good about putting Mylène Farmer so low on it, and I was like oh wow, I genuinely love all these other songs more than the two she released that year! This feels great. This is healing. This is progress. It also means the most controversial things on the list are a nerd threatening people with a water pistol and Eminem spouting his usual bullshit empty provocations. No big deal. It’s okay! Moving on.

What was the French #1 for that year, by the way? I can’t rememb-

OH SHIT OH F█CK

OH NO

2 - Moi Lolita (Alizée)

US: Not on the list / FR: #1

Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss.

Mylène Farmer wrote this for Alizée. Screw the entire universe. I want her off my lists but I can’t because I need to make them honestly.

“I’m not a sucker, I never bought the album AND I never bought these singles in a SHOP, I got them in a garage sale the next year for less that a quarter of the price”, says the person who is, in fact, clearly and definitely a sucker.

How can a song be so horribly catchy and horribly controversial at the same time. HOW. It’s unfair. For some context about how controversial this is if you’re an English speaker, this is what would happen if Bad Guy by Billie Eilish was the catchiest shit in the world. This was almost #1 on my list before I noticed my actual #1 song made it pretty high on the French year-end list despite being mysteriously absent from the US one.

Also I’m glad the music video provides a mostly harmless context: this girl is supposed to babysit her little sister, but she went dancing in a club. And the little sister is looking after her instead. I’m saying “mostly” harmless because there’s that creepy guy who keeps watching her, as if the story was saying “you should not do this and you are putting yourself in danger and this will end horribly”. Which is a sentiment I can definitely get behind, and at the time, I was already highly skeptical about the message this song was sending even if I loved it. I’m just judging that through the comments I was writing next to it on my “favorite songs” lists (”leave your little sister out of this, Alizée”):

Bonus: most relatable comment on the video by a mile.

Same, my dude.

This is why the first album I bought was Daddy DJ and not that one or, uh, the next one.

1 - Stan (Eminem)

US: Not on the list either?? What happened. Why / FR: #18

This song actually created a new English verb. Think about that for a second.

Also, until the end of my life, I will wonder why people suddenly decided, a couple of years ago, than “to stan” now meant “admiring a lot and being a huge fan of” instead of “being a creepy obsessed stalker and possibly dangerous”.

Anyhow.

I couldn’t understand one tenth of the lyrics at the time this was a hit, but I still sneakily put it on my tapes. I knew my parents disapproved. Oh, I liked it. I loved it. I adored it.

I was also terrified of it.

One of the only lines I clearly understood with my limited English was the “I’m your biggest fan” line, and how increasingly dangerous the guy sounded, and that Eminem was trying to answer him at the end but it was too late and he had already done some horrible shit.

This is a horror story in song form, it stays with you long after it’s over every time you listen to it, and it’s a rare and precious thing.

I’m still genuinely terrified after all these years, though.

Next up: another mix of embarrassing shit and valid stuff

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #eye contact tw

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sordidandsublime · 6 years

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The Lopez-Sidonias

I keep saying I'm done with PT, which is true (it's not an innovative story. In fact it's probably downright derivative), but I haven't entirely figured out the people who populate the setting. I suppose this one is about occupation. As usual, nothing set in stone etc.

Natalia Lopez Sidonia- she was teaching English in the as-yet-unnamed Protestant university in SMDM, a properly genteel occupation for a upper class young lady waiting for marriage when she met Rafael. While it takes Natalia some years to gain some sort of official title on the board of the Sidonia corporation (it takes a similar amount of years for Rafael to properly incorporate his holdings), she's the one who takes up the day to day management of the plantation, collects the rental on various properties, makes the shrewd purchasing decisions etc and saves the corporation from ruinous decisions when she can. While Rafael might rightfully claim to be owner and CEO of the corporation, Natalia kept the enterprise together and held its coffers (much to Rafael's frustration as he was often prey to a great desire to wantonly spend huge sums of money).

Santiago Lopez Sidonia- heir apparent, oldest son, golden boy. Like most of the Sidonias, Santiago is intelligent, but lacks focus and motivation. He was an indifferent student despite the forceful reminders to do better, to not embarrass the family. He passed the exams that put him in the best (read: poshest) university in the country, bounced from management degree to sociology degree to biology degree, stopped showing up to class for drinking or traveling out of the city or for any number of reasons and is expelled, reaccepted, expelled again. Eventually he manages to graduate with a degree in agriculture from a third rate university back in the home province. He then goes on to help his father with the plantation with the expectation of someday becoming the family patriarch. This description might give one the impression of a sullen, gloomy presence, but that would be wrong. Santiago is popular, well-liked, gallant. He has a number of compadres whom he likes to drink and travel with, similarly well-to-do men who don't really have to work a day in their lives. He explains away his various abandoned enterprises with bellows of laughter and panache, one can't help believing, even sympathizing with his point of view. One might even excuse his fits of rage.

Rea Silvia Sidonia-Fargas- much like her mother, Natalia, Rea is the one who now actually keeps the corporation afloat after years of ruinous debts and mismanagement. She installs herself as chief purchasing officer instead of COO, and puts her more malleable (relative term, ha) siblings on the board. Unlike the rest of her family, Rea's involvement in the family business has been minimal. As a young doctor she worked in Rafael's hospital, of course, it was expected, but after her marriage she went back to school and studied literature and history, focusing on Filipino literature and history. Rea becomes a respected writer, historian and advocate for Filipino art, and has a weekly column in the culture section of a widely read national paper. She's most well known for English and Tagalog translations of the work of Emilio Borromeo Alonzo, a lesser known poet and writer from Bulacan, who, in Rea's opinion, is a much better writer than Rizal because of his wit, subtlety and elegant language. Rea has written a handful of historical novels as well, which were praised for their extreme historical accuracy, but quietly laughed at in some circles for their prim didacticism. Despite her intellectualism, Rea is not a political radical or a flouncy barely-there hippie. She's a shrewd and sharp traditionalist who does not like to be contradicted.

Jaime Sidonia- Serafina's son, adopted by Rafael, much to Natalia's sporadically veiled displeasure. Good humored, a little vague, self-effacing but stubborn in the extreme. Occasionally he surfaces from his thoughts to deliver an exceedingly dry put down. He was in university studying to be an architect at about the same time that Santiago was ricocheting widely between departments, and becomes one with very little fuss. The family's good name allows him to enter an international firm with a branch in Manila where he works for a few years before leaving to become involved in the national cultural commission's projects of restoring mansions built in the vernacular style and the federal style government buildings that remain damaged from the bombardments of WW2. Jaime is now mostly a scholar of vernacular and Asian architecture, he's written books, presents lectures and teaches in university sometimes. He stays out of the family business although he has a seat on the board because he usually has no problems voting the way Rea wants him to vote.

Encarnacion (Chona) Lopez Sidonia- vivacious, frivolous, given over to strong passions, possibly one of the happiest of the Sidonia siblings. Chona was a respectable student, but doesn't count herself as an intellectual like some of her other siblings. Unexpectedly, she's also a doctor, a dermatologist, and sets up a successful practice in a fashionable Makati clinic, helping actresses and socialites clear up their breakouts and occasionally feeding glutathione into their veins for that mestiza paleness. Spurning putting up a practice in Rafael's beloved namesake of a hospital puts her out of favor for years, but she couldn't give less of damn (what was she going to do, offer whitening treatments to pig farmers?). She marries a surgeon, eventually divorces him. Currently she and her fiancé, John, own and manage the Manderley, the oldest hotel in SMDM, a rambling 19th century structure by the seafront boulevard that they're marketing as old world, a return to more graceful times.

Antonio Lopez Sidonia- Architect, industrial designer. Mercurial, melancholic, very kind but flippantly sarcastic and venomously funny when angry. School was difficult for him; he was extremely bright but sensitive, the slightest upset at home would make it impossible for him to focus on his work and he often got into fights and would act out outrageously. Despite that he managed to graduate with honors (after moving high schools) and enrolled into a competitive architecture and design program in university. He had to fight himself, his addictions and the black void of depression to get his degree. His first remarkable project came about as a kind of joke; a month or so before graduation he was in Palawan with some school friends and their older, more sophisticated siblings and their friends when one of them idly began to speculate about building a vacation home on his family's cliff side property. Antonio said it could easily be done, and two years later the elegant construction of glass, local wood and indigenous rock is featured in architects' magazines and mentioned in society papers as the work of a rising new talent. Antonio begins to build homes for the wealthy, he champions the tropical modernist movement, insists on using local materials and craftsmanship and incorporates contemporary versions of traditional Filipino designs into his work. He's difficult to work with, he changes his plans midway through construction, building is slow and he is expensive, but the end result, most feel, is well worth it. His forays into commercial work is a disaster because he refuses to compromise his working methods for a corporate bottom line. All this time Antonio is bedeviled by a love for contraband pharmaceuticals and crushing unhappiness, and there are months and sometimes years when he doesn't work at all. He declares bankruptcy once, is practically homeless several times. There are rumors of primitive asylums, extremely expensive treatments at high end sanitariums. In his later years he's found a semblance of peace and has returned to live on Negros Island, on the occidental side, far enough away from his family to spare him their venom but close enough to fulfill his duties on the board of the corporation. His current project is building affordable sustainable housing in collaboration with a foreign multinational, and he helps his favorite niece, Ava, with the construction of her own home.

Ciela Maria Lopez Sidonia-Pangilinan- The family beauty and the brainy one, she would thank everyone to remember that. She excels in school, and for her pre medicine course she doesn't simply enroll in a relatively easy science-medical degree, but some obscure molecular biochemistry honors program. Afterwards, a fast-tracked medical program, and then a masters in hospital management. Ciela makes sure to remind her siblings that she's never flubbed her schooling the way some of them have, and in almost any business related argument she trots out her credentials; clearly she's the most learned and so they should bow to her expertise. Ciela returns to Santa Maria in bouyant spirits after she collects her masters. She imagines modernizing Rafael's hospital, changing the system top to bottom, making it more efficient and bringing it up to primary, western standards. She won't stop there, and is dedicated to doing the same for the plantation, and can already imagine the gratitude and admiration of her family. Smart, good and beautiful Ciela. It doesn't go the way she imagined; she and Rafael fight, a lot. She insists (she never raises her voice) she shows him her textbooks and manuals, spends money on new equipment, changes policies and hires staff without asking, Rafael calls her stupid and walang-alam. They row for months, the entire family is involved one way or the other, Ciela cries, engages her elder sisters in long phone calls, alternates between cajoling and scolding her father. Eventually Ciela leaves, returns to Manila and makes what is, arguably, the most successful marriage amongst her sisters, to the scion of a massive pharmaceutical company. Still, Ciela can't help trying to make herself necessary to the family business. She acquires a phd in health sciences, visits her family regularly, tries to offer this or that innovation to Rafael, who laughs at her and rebuffs her. Now that she's on the board of the Sidonia corporation she's aggressively (but in a ladylike way) trying to acquire the position of COO, despite her lack of practical experience and shaky grasp on the realities of running a business.

Ricardo Lopez Sidonia- the youngest, and full on family disaster. No one can say, exactly, how Ricky passes both grade school and high school but he does. He moves from one humanities degree to another, claims he wants to be a novelist, a filmmaker, a painter, a pilot. Eventually he drops out of school permanently. Cheerful, clever, indolent and entitled, Ricky skates through life on the generosity of his parents. He doesn't care that his father calls him a fool, a useless parasite etc etc. he figures Rafael owes him his money for being a shitty dad and an all around fucked up human being, and it's not like they'll ever put him out on the street, they're too proud for that. Ricky dabbles in various businesses without ever making a success out of them, despite them being business that would yield a respectable profit if he stuck with them. Gas stations, convenience stores. Once, assisted by Ciela, he attempts to sell medical equipment, and also gets into several businesses with stoner school buddies who eventually got their shit together for adulthood. Ricky's too lazy to stick with anything; he's too lazy to be a proper junkie, even. Fond of luxury goods, the latest smartphone etc but he doesn't take good care of these things. He gives them away when bored. Nowadays he occasionally shows up to his job as assistant hospitality manager for one of his nephew, Isidro's resorts, but really everyone knows it's not an actual job, it's an excuse for him to hang out with guests, take them out on the lake and smoke a blunt or five.

Plus:

Serafina and Angelica Sidonia- Rafael's younger sisters. For a time they both lived with their mother in one of the homes in the San Diego compound, out of sight of the big house. No one knows whether they're full or half siblings. For a time it was the only thing the townspeople of San Diego could talk about, and even years later it's still a topic to dredge up on hot afternoons when the latest gossip is thin. Angelica marries, Serafina does not. Angelica's husband dies young, but not before she bears him a son, Felipe, who goes on the become head overseer of the plantation and assistant to Rafael. Serafina has two children out of wedlock, Jaime and Maximiliano. The father might as well be the devil himself or an enkanto, that's how much people know of their paternity. In their old age Serafina and Angelica become intensely reclusive, and still dwell in the same house they were given to live in by their brother.

Asterio Sidonia Cabahug- the youngest of the Sidonia siblings, from his mother's marriage to a rice planter and dealer. Lumpish and obedient, but not overly intelligent. He oversees the Sidonia's roll on-roll off port.

#Sidonias #PT #I feel like I forgot someone #a wholeass telenovela #and yet its only background info lmao

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londonlanded · 6 years

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Week 54

Monday, my job got a little more fun, and a lot more sweet. As part of our latest marketing campaign designed to advertise our beautiful property in Budapest, I arranged to work with my friends in the pastry kitchen at my old haunt, Four Seasons Park Lane, to make a Hungarian treat to send to some of our top clients. The issue with Hungary (of which there are very few, in my opinion, if any really), is that it doesn’t really export much even though it totally should! Aside from the occasional small specialty shop, and the bottles of Tokaji you can find in the wine section of most stores, there aren’t many things that make it out of the country for our liberal consumption. I remember falling in love with a couple of Hungarian sweets while I was there, and I haven’t been able to find them since. That’s not particularly unusual of course, it makes sense that something that’s from a country might mostly stay there, but I get murmurs of agreement from my two Hungarian flatmates when I moan about how annoying it’s been to get Hungarian fineries worthy of being sent in the mail to our clients - they have just as much trouble finding products from home as I was seeming to. The solution? Make it yourself!

I headed over to the hotel and was met by David Oliver, our quirky pastry chef who had spent the weekend trying to sort out how to make our campaign happen. He also happens to be dating a Hungarian girl, which boded quite well for the fact-checking aspect of my project. He brought me to the pastry kitchen, which I had never been in, in spite of the fact that I had been on property for 7 months, and he presented me with his version of something called a Gerbeaud cake. This cake was created by a French chef living in Hungary (named after himself, of course), and it’s become one of the most famous desserts in the country. It was also created in a cafe that’s just down the road from our hotel, so it was an easy choice in terms of how to best represent what the city is capable of providing its visitors.

Tasting it (poor tummy) was more than worth it, it’s apricot preserves, walnuts, butter biscuit and chocolate ganache all in one. And of course, it wouldn’t be Four Seasons without a little flair - I watched, mesmerized, as my new friend placed delicate flakes of gold leaf under the newly cut-out chocolate logos he had placed on each bite.

It looked almost as good as it tasted.

The only catch of the day was the fact that, well, London doesn’t quite know how to handle the heat, in any sense. I left work and walked out into London’s version of a sweltering day, and beyond being deeply concerned about my little treat packages making it to their recipients without turning to mush in the muggy mail, the rest of the city was breaking down in slightly more concerning ways. My local Tesco’s fridges couldn’t handle it, and neither could the rest of England. Never ceases to amuse me how a little weather just shuts this place down. When the sign below was posted, it was a balmy 25 degrees...

Wednesday, a real highlight, Paris’ mum made me traditional Cantonese food and I think I definitely ate enough of it to show the appreciation I couldn’t exactly articulate in words. Paris translated for me, we were having mung bean noodles with traditional mushrooms, scrambled eggs, and dried scallops that were rehydrated and used as a stock base before being added into the main dish itself. They’re apparently a delicacy, and I can see why - they’re salty, briney and taste like stronger versions of the larger versions I’m more accustomed to (if one can be accustomed to scallops?). She also served potatoes and chicken wings in Gojuchang sauce, equally good, though I’m always more of a fan of noodles than anything else.

We finished the meal with a vegetable broth that’s usually served on its own, either before a meal as an appetizer, or afterwards if you still have room. It was strange but delicious, you could taste the whole cobs of corn she had used, bought from the Chinatown farmers market earlier that week. As much as I’m sure Paris has had enough mother-son time for a while (like, two months, bless him), he’s definitely not tired of this little aspect of it. Dessert was a very non-traditional one, at least for mum. Paris popped open his bottle of 20 year old balsamic vinegar, and sought his pint of vanilla ice cream from the fridge, I grabbed the blueberries. Sounds weird, but give it a go and get back to me. Mum was excited to the point that she sent a photo of it to all her friends so they could see how strange her son’s palate had become, but she tried it like the chef she is. Everything once, eh.

Thursday, early start at work since I was going to be heading out an hour early for my next adventure. Thankfully, I made it out in time to catch an earlier train to London City airport, since I found myself on a massively delayed Jubilee line that would have otherwise completely screwed me over had I not taken off an hour early. I always do wonder what’s a massive enough deal that could result in shutting down an entire tube station, but part of me doesn’t want to know why Waterloo was bypassed that afternoon. I got the airport with my version of just enough time (aka two hours), and stopped at Pret to grab some dinner before boarding my first ever TAP Portugal flight, to go to Lisbon to meet Brooke!

Unfortunately, I learned the hard way that apparently TAP stands for ‘Take Another Plane,’ which wound up being more funny than it was inconvenient, I am grateful in hindsight for the anecdote it left me with though I was little grumpy at the time. I know this is classic anglicized entitlement, but the pilot hardly spoke English, so when I realized that the code he had spoken to us in was actually an announcement that we’d have to stop for gas halfway to our destination, we were landing in Nantes, France. My first thought was, ‘well hey, I guess pilots can forget to get gas, too,’ and my second was, ‘well thank you sweet lord he was able to voluntarily fall out of the sky before gravity forced it upon us!’ After an hour or so on the ground, extended by the fact that Nantes wasn’t expecting us and didn’t have the proper paperwork ready, we took off a second time, and landed in Lisbon a bit after midnight. But hey, at least the customs line for non-EU citizens was manageable...

I hopped in an Uber, and while doing so managed to rip a hole the size of a graperfruit in my favourite pair of pants, quickly changed into something less shredded in the back seat of the car without the driver noticing (I’m an artist, thank you), and within about 15 minutes, pulled up to the Four Seasons Hotel Ritz Lisbon.

I wasn’t with it enough to really appreciate it when I arrived, but I did take a good look around the next morning - it’s really a stunning place, it’s much bigger than many of our other hotels, and it’s as grand as the name states it might be. Hard to be underwhelming when you’ve got both Ritz and Four Seasons in your title.

Swaths of pink flowers and vines hang from the main floral display in front of the Concierge and reception desks, I checked in and was told that not only were we on the 9th floor, we’d been upgraded to a Premier room for no reason that I could discern beyond proper kindness. It made getting to the hotel around 2AM sting quite a bit less. Brooke was asleep of course, but she’d picked up some snacks for me to arrive back to, and after downing a few of them while opening the letters the staff and sales team had left me, I climbed into bed, too.

The morning meant really seeing the mess I had gotten myself into. I woke up to the largest hotel room I’ve ever stayed in (not that I’ve stayed in many, but regardless), and I noticed we had a terrace all to ourselves, too, with a view overlooking most of Lisbon. What a life.

I had arranged to meet one of my long-distance colleagues for a tour around the hotel, Patricia was born and raised in Lisbon and had no shortage of recommendations for Brooke and me once we finished my tour. She showed me all their ballrooms and meetings and event spaces (as per my job’s main focus points), and I was struck over and over again by just how beautiful the place is - it’s honestly art, every corner is glowing or decorated somehow, there’s no shortage of places to stop and admire, whether you’re looking at the ceiling or the ground.

After my hotel tour, Brooke and I met up in the room to find our way to the city centre to go on our free walking tour of the city, which wound up being just the two of us thanks to everyone else’s cancellations. We began in the Luís de Camões square, which is dedicated to the famous poet of the same name who began Lisbon’s reputation of artistry. He was responsible for writing one of Portugal’s most famous pieces, The Lusiads, which earned him the reputation of being Portugal’s Shakespeare. One of his less gallant contemporaries, António Ribeiro, has a statue a few metres away, outside the tavern he used to spend his earnings in, which he collected by writing poems for those who requested them.

As we continued, we noticed some musicians playing in the street we were walking on, Juliana went on to explain that the bands we see, wearing what looked like uniforms, were actually groups of students who were doing this voluntarily. Most of them are paid in f & b, and whatever money they earn by playing is usually donated to a cause that the group chooses. Every university faculty has a band you can join, this one happened to be a group of medical students, but we were told that nurses, engineers, and beyond all put on the same kind of show.

Just beyond where they were standing, we walked to the Elevator de Santa Justa. This Gothic-style elevator was built by Raoul Mesnier de Ponsard, who was rumoured to have been one of Eiffel's contemporaries. However, our guide Juliana did not hesitate to point out that, unlike the Eiffel Tower, this actually had a purpose.

The Santa Justa lift was responsible for bringing people up to the upper levels of the city, since Lisbon’s basically a collection of hills, this makes a ton of sense. If you’re a child or if you’re elderly, I can’t imagine anything worse than going for a circuitous stair climb in 40 degree heat, when you could instead wait a few minutes to be lifted to your destination.

We walked on see what was easily the most evocative part of the city tour, the Carmo Convent, which was destroyed in the 1755 earthquake and fire that effectively leveled the city. The earth shook beneath the feet of Lisbon’s residents for about a minute, which doesn’t seem like long but only to those whose worlds aren’t collapsing. Thing is, the world shaking is bad enough on it’s own, but it gets a bit worse when you’re standing in a room full of candles, that might as well be made of kindling framed with stone.

You can still see char marks on the inside of the Gothic arches that line the outside of the convent, scars from a fire that burned over 200 years ago but that hasn’t been forgotten. Similarly to St. Dunstan’s in the East, they haven’t replaced some of the roof, though this time I think it was more out of an effort to illustrate devastation than it was for the sake of making a centrally located garden.

As if matters could get worse, those who fled the earthquake and the fire, of course, headed towards the sea where they would not get burned. Unfortunately, as is often the case with seismological activity, a tsunami followed the quake, and destroyed most of the city and killed many of its citizens who had escaped the first round of disaster.

That earthquake made way for a new government since, well, their leader at the time fled the city instead of cleaning up the mess, and the person that took over was responsible for saving Lisbon. His mantra of bury the dead, heal the living, and rebuild the city, cam true over the next years, and Sebastião de Melo, the prime minister at the time, became one of the city’s heroes. He redesigned what was broken, and you can plainly see the results of his efforts today. The new streets are wider and more spacious, they’d give anyone the chance to find open air if the earth were to ever shake again.

Still, Lisbon’s reformation continued even into the last century, Brooke and I were both astounded to learn that so much change had occured so recently. Up until the 1900s, Portugal was living under a fascist regime that had begun to harm the citizens it ruled over. In 1974, the Portuguese had had enough, and at around 10:55 PM on the 24th of April, a song played on the radio that included a code to the members of the military that knew what was coming. At 12:20 AM, a second song played, this time with a lyric in it that included the sentiment of ‘the power returns to the people,’ and at that signal, the military took over ‘strategic points of power’ in the city, thereby beginning the revolution. Our guide continued, telling us that announcements were made over television and radio that everyone should stay inside, safely out of harms way, in case things turned violent. Much to the military’s surprise, Portuguese citizens emerged from their homes to join the military, as they felt it was their country to fight for alongside their forces. The revolution was successful, and since then, April 25th has been called ‘Freedom Day,’ and is now a public holiday.

There’s also another powerful side to the revolution’s story. While it’s always been known as a relatively ‘peaceful’ one, as in it had very few fatalities, there’s another tale for how it got its name of ‘the Carnation Revolution.’ Carnations are in full bloom around the time that the revolution occurred, and apparently, one of Lisbon’s residents who didn’t have access to either television or radio had gotten up at dawn to go to work. She got there, realized that no one else was, but figured she’d made the trek so she might as well stay. A soldier walked past, and saw her shop was open, so he walked in and asked, ‘please, tell me you sell cigarettes?’ The woman replied, ‘no, but have a flower,’ and she proceeded to place one into the end of the soldier’s rifle. From then, it became a symbol of their peaceful revolt, and soldiers began to place flowers in their weapons to show that there was no real intent or desire to use them. Brooke and I both got genuine chills at this point, our tour guide’s delivery was only a bonus to an already powerful tale (albeit likely a bit embellished, but anyway).

As Juliana led us through Lisbon’s winding roads, we walked through a tunnel depicting a cartoon version of Lisbon’s entire history, from the fire to the revolution to the present, another testament to the city’s artistry that I did not know it possessed. That tunnel gave way to a beautiful plaza, decorated in the same bright pink flowers we’d seen in the hotel lobby. I realized then that these are the same carnations that were talked about a few minutes prior, they were in full bloom. Not quite the red colour that we were told about, but a bit of googling tells me carnations can take on a range of shades, so I’m sure these bushes cousins were those in the story.

From there, through the area that Juliana described as the Jewish Ghetto, which was actually one of the only areas of the city that survived both the fires and the tsunami of 1755. The streets are narrow, pedestrian only, and buildings are built high and narrow, closely packed to each other. Juliana told us that if we wanted to listen to traditional Portuguese Fado singing, we should come here, since it’s one of the only places in the city you can see the ancient art form practiced. She also pointed out the reason that the Portuguese haven’t invested much stock or money in CCTV surveillance systems. We were puzzled by this, but she pointed upwards at the windows behind us. Sure enough, out of every single one of them, there was an elderly Portuguese woman looking down at us. ‘The second something happens, everyone knows,’ said Juliana with a laugh. Apparently no language barrier exists in the context of suspicion?

Finally, we headed towards the last stop on the tour, which was actually the most surprising part of the adventure for me. We walked to the front of a large building that had large, diamond shaped bumps all over the front of it. Apparently, the building was used as a cod-drying warehouse before it was left to ruin. Someone came across it and decided that no building this beautiful should be left the way it was, and turned it into a museum. The House of Spikes is now home to the museum of Jose Saramago, who is perhaps Portugal’s most famous writer. His most famous piece Blindness (great, in case you wanted my opinion, sure you did), won him the Nobel Prize for literature in 1988. The moment that surprised me the most though, was the end of the tour when Juliana pointed to the tree we were standing beside. She said, ‘not to alarm you, but he is buried under this tree.’ So I got a little closer to one of my favourite writers than I counted on getting, but being able to see the olive tree that marked his grave, while standing in front of the building designed to tentatively immortalize him, was a pretty fabulous way to top off a tour that proved there was far more to Lisbon than I could have ever imagined.

We then headed towards Juliana’s recommended restaurants, and found ourselves at a cute Portuguese place for lunch. After a slight translation error, I wound up with Bacalhau à Bras, which is basically salted cod and hashbrowns fried together, served with salad, and Brooke had cod fritters and a side of rice, beans and tomato sauce. An odd mix that worked pretty perfectly, as far as I could tell.

We walked (read, rolled) to the Praça do Comércio, which is the largest square in Europe, and walked through the archway that marks the entrance to Lisbon from the sea. The top of it is marked by the King who was in power during the 1755 earthquake, but he is shown facing the ocean since he fled the city instead of staying to protect it. Our guide said she wasn’t sure why he was given a monument at all, but I suppose being immortalized as a traitor is one way to pay for being one.

Before we made our way back to the hotel for a break, Brooke and I stopped for a quick shop down the main strip of the city, and for a requisite Pastel de Nata, which is the famed Portuguese egg-custard tart that the country is famous for.

We walked into a bakery where I watched them briefly being made, and Brooke treated me to one - again, worth the pain it caused me, sometimes you’ve just got to eat some gluten and figure out the rest later.

We headed back to the hotel, and while Brooke headed down to the spa, I went upstairs to enjoy one of the most amazing things about our Lisbon hotel - the fact that it’s got gym and a sprinting track on the 11th floor, where you can look out on the entirety of the city while working off your tarts. I spent a generous amount of my workout looking at the city I had spent the day traipsing around, it’s hard to focus when the world outside is just so much better looking than the dumbbells you’re only half-convinced you want to be holding.

We had a beautiful walk down to our dinner destination, and while it was booked out that evening, we made our way to a backup place called 11 Tapas. With no real expectations, we sat down at our tiny table and took in the well-loved vibe the restaurant gave off. Before long, our heavy-handed waitress had poured us two of the largest glasses of wine either of us had ever seen, and we were sitting in front of some of the most delicious tapas I’d had in a long time. Octopus, peppers and cilantro, smoked chorizo that came to the table while still on fire, mushrooms and sauteed onions, mussels, and a grilled chunk of goat’s cheese on arugula and tomatoes, we were two happy campers.

Our heavy handed waitress the placed two glasses of equal volume on our neighbour’s table, and before long, she came over to us and replaced what we had on ours because she said something along the lines of, ‘you looked jealous!’ She went back to the counter, and returned with her glasses, pointing to them and saying, ‘I couldn’t see!’ when we laughed at the volume she’d poured for us.

We ended the night with a lava cake and ice cream for Brooke, and cottage cheese with honey and walnuts for myself. Our first full day in Portugal set the bar quite high, don’t you think? That, and the fact that it cost a grand total of 32 Euros didn’t hurt either.

Saturday morning, we started our day up on the 11th floor gym, taking in the sunshine before hopping on a 5 Euro round-trip train from the city’s central Rossio station, out to Sintra, a region known for its beautiful views and stunning architecture. We were surrounded by people wanting to do and see the same, and after a rather rough and windy bus ride to the top of the hill, we saw what it was they were trying to come and see.

Pena Palace is a UNESCO world heritage site, and stands in the heart of the Sintra Mountains. Apparently you can see it from Lisbon on a clear day, which wasn’t the case for us, but it’s high enough up that we saw clouds rolling over the grounds as blue skies remained open above the world beyond the mountain.

Though it was initially built as a monastery in 1493, it was left to ruin before King Ferdinand the II came across it and fell in love with it, commissioning its Romantic reconstruction between 1842-1857. It’s a pretty impressive place, with tiled interiors and intricately carved furnishings. The real stunner is the outside though, colourful stucco and tile and stone, engraved and painted and all-together looking like a piece of artwork standing tall and proud out of the greenery below.

Brooke and I headed back to Lisbon and stopped for some picnic supplies on the way back, and headed down to the hotel spa to unwind for a bit before heading out for dinner. Turns out, you don’t need to buy out the hotel to have exclusive use, if you’re lucky! Not sure how we managed to take over during peak season, but hey, sometimes it’s best not to ask questions.

We headed out to our dinner reservation at a place called Minibar, which was an adventure all on its own. It’s a tasting menu designed to be more of an experience than a meal, and we wound up getting quite (sometimes too) daring with our orders to the point we didn’t always know what we were eating! After accidentally downing a chunk of foie gras covered in cocoa and hazlenuts disguised to look like a Ferrero Rocher, we chose to choose a little more conventionally for the rest of our meal.

I wasn’t feeling totally myself, so I went easy, but still managed to try some of the most amazing food we had found all trip. The walk home wasn’t too shabby either, I sometimes forget that life goes on after bedtime, and that in some places, leaving the restaurant after dark doesn’t mean you’ll be too cold to make it home.

Came back to the hotel and finally had a second to walk around and attempt to capture it, turns out, I can’t.

Sunday started off, you guessed it, at the top floor gym, where Brooke and I worked out and took one last look at the Lisbon skyline before dropping our bags at reception and checking out. We also had a little photoshoot in case our future selves need some motivation at the gym, since our workout views were no doubt going to pale in comparison from here on out.

The grand total cost of my stay at Four Seasons Hotel Ritz Lisbon? 6 Euros, 1/person/night, city tax. Otherwise, we’d been allowed to stay at the cost of having a contract with the company for almost a year and a half. Fair enough.

We hopped in an uber to one of the places we’d been recommended - Cascais is a city on the west coast of Portugal, and we had been told to go there for the beach, to compliment the city-exploration we’d been doing for the past two days.You can definitely take a train, but we chose the 30-minute car ride option since we had our flights to catch later in the day. We hopped in and soon realized our driver was from Cascais, and he decided he’d take us right to the sight we were in his car on his way to go see! We weren’t counting on a full blown tour, but turns out kindness and national pride are as abundant as the other here in Portugal.

Boca del Inferno is named that way because of the noise the waves make when crashing into it during a storm - it’s a large rocky outcropping that you can climb all over.

Much to Brooke’s chagrin I was one of the wannabe monkeys that was turning it into my playground.

There’s not much to see beyond the chasm itself, but the walk on the way back meant we could see a bit of Cascais without even meaning to. before long, we were in the centre of the city, or at least along the coast at a point where we decided to stop.

The difference in design between both Lisbon and Cascais is palatable, one is densely packed and bustling, while Cascais bears a bit more of a resemblance to Los Angeles along the coast, but not the Venice beach part, more like LA on a Sunday morning. It’s actually earned the reputation of being the California of Portugal, Lisbon’s main bridge looks a ton like the golden gate, and the vibe of Cascais resembles its equally laid-back counterpart. Walking around, we could feel why they were being compared to one another.

We found ourselves a spot on the beach and settled in, I saw some clouds take shapes I’d never seen before, and we watched the day go by as the sun told us we had made the right choice in how we were spending our day.

Our Uber driver home was playing jazz on his car radio, and we made it back to the hotel slightly more sandy and much better off than we had been when we left. We also wound up far less broke than we expected to be, sure Cascais is 24 km away, but Uber is notoriously inexpensive in Portugal, and we found ourselves pleasantly surprised with the fact that we’d managed to conveniently and relatively inexpensively hit another city on a day we thought we’d be too tight for time to do so. We decided on the way back to the hotel that we’d make the most of our stay, and we chose to use my employee benefits to try out the hotel’s acclaimed Sunday brunch. We were seated, and soon, we were beyond glad we’d made that choice. I’m here to change your opinions of Four Seasons - whatever they are, they now need to include the fact that an FS brunch is probably the best meal they serve.

I’ve had three of them now (spoiled much?) and this one was by far the best, Portuguese delicacies, seafood, an entire honeycomb suspended for you to break chunks off of and use at your discretion, dozens of desserts and a handful of one-hit appetizers that left you wanting about twelve more. Aren’t all berries dusted in gold???

It didn’t hurt that our waiter was an angel with a sense of humour, whose version of punshing us for not yet having tried Port during our trip was to bring us two glasses of it on the house. No matter what you think of Four Seasons, no matter what comes to mind, I know that this experience will mean that at least for me, the first thing I’ll think about will be the people who make these experiences happen. They’re phenomenal, almost every single time.

Unfortunately, even the best things have to end, and we headed down to the spa to shower and change before heading to the airport to come back to London. One final moment of joy though, it’s usually me who says sentimental things that usually stay inside peoples heads, but that I choose to share with the planet. On our Uber ride to the airport, our driver spoke only French and Portuguese. We were chatting, and out of the blue, he came out with something along the lines of, ‘sometimes I think it’s so useless to know this language, I never really use it. But then I do, and it reminds me how important it is, it let me talk to a Canadian that I never would have been able to talk to otherwise. I think that’s special.’ And I think he’s right.

After our slightly delayed flight finally made it to London, Brooke and I made a beeline for bed. Nothing like having to land in France though, I’m hoping that only happens to me once. And to end off, a shot of my all-time favourite part about air travel - that no matter where you are, the colours just seem brighter above the clouds, whether there are any or not.

Next week, some down time? Maybe?

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flauntpage · 7 years

Text

After Overcoming Poverty, Muay Thai Prodigy Loma Lookboonmee Sets Sights on MMA

The noodle vendor wanted to know how Loma Lookboonmee found herself on the famous Soi-Taied street in Phuket, Thailand.

After all, Loma, like the vendor, is a native of Isaan—the poorest and most underdeveloped region in the country. How could Loma afford to be here?

“I’m just a farmer’s daughter,” Loma said. But the truth is, Loma, 21, is far more than that.

Loma’s father Boonmee has run a Muay Thai gym for two decades. Loma grew up there. She began training when she was just seven years old. In the beginning, her father's gym was nothing: no ring, no roof, not even a bag. Instead she trained in the dirt. And it was there on her family's farm in Buriram that Loma learned the art of eight limbs. She traveled the countryside through the rough trails of temple fairs and festival fights looking for matchups. It didn’t take long before she ran out of opponents and began fighting boys.

She has been beating up boys in Thailand for practically her entire life. Now she trains at Tiger Muay Thai, one of the biggest and most well-equipped MMA gyms in the world—home to UFC fighters like Mark Hunt and Valentina Shevchenko. It was her Tiger gear that caught the noodle vendor's attention. Soon, it may catch the world's attention. Loma is slated to make her pro MMA debut with Invicta Fighting Championships on January 13 in Kansas City, Missouri. When she does, she will be the first ever Thai National to fight for the promotion.

Courtesy: Lookboonmee Muay Thai Gym

Loma’s aptitude for Muay Thai is nothing short of extraordinary. At 12 years old she was called into fight local superstar Petchdam Petchkiatpetch, who in adulthood became a Channel 7 Stadium champion. Gamblers drove from all across the region to put money on Petchdam. In a matter of minutes, 200,000 Baht in cash was collected for Petchdam’s side-bet. Loma’s family and fellow villagers broke their piggy banks and emptied their pockets but were only able to match 85,000 Baht. The crowd erupted with cheers. It was a lot of money for Isaan, even more for a girl. Bets were placed on the outside as well, with Petchdam the heavy favorite to win.

Thanit Watthanaya

Petchdam did not win.

“Loma beat him like she was beating a bag,” her mother recalled. “He didn’t have nothing on her.”

Those who believed in Loma tripled their money that night. No pictures or video exist from the fight, but no one in the Muay Thai community has forgotten. Now, Loma and the other fighters from her generation at Lookboonmee look after the up and coming fighters at her gym. Teaching and drilling technique into them so they can achieve success now and when they grow up. Lookboonmee houses more than fifteen active fighters but almost all the trophies at the gym belong to Loma. And even with that impressive trophy hoard, she's missing all the belts she's earned as a nine time Muay Thai Champion. In Thailand, gyms and champions must buy their championship belts as promoters only keep a few on hand for fight photos and ceremonial purposes. She’s won the stadium titles at Rangsit and Assawindam as well as the prestigious S-1 Championship from OneSongchai. That’s in addition to the six other regional titles she won. Fortunately, she’s been able to keep her gold medals from IFMA and the Asian Games.

Courtesy: Lookboonmee Muay Thai Gym

In grade 11, Loma was recruited for the Thai national team and since then has split her time training between her home gym Lookboonmee and flagship gym for the national team, Dejrat gym in Bangkok.

As fate would have it, while training at Dejrat, Loma was introduced to a female fighter from America. This single meeting changed the course of Loma’s fighting career forever. The American fighter had come to Dejrat gym with her Thai coach to prepare for a fight in Northeast Thailand. Loma had heard that this woman had fought MMA prior and reached out asking if she could help her get a fight. As Loma did not speak any English she required the efforts of one of her teammates to translate. Little did Loma know that she had just asked Kaitlin Young, matchmaker for Invicta Championships, to get her an MMA fight.

Thanit Watthanaya

A seed was planted for Loma but, having no prior MMA experience, she wasn’t sure how to make the seed grow. She called her parents who, through contacts in the Muay Thai community, were able to land her a coveted spot as a sponsored fighter at Tiger Muay Thai.

Those in the Muay Thai community in Thailand are always there for each other. Fighters and gym owners are often people of limited means who partake in the sport as a true labor of love. They don’t have the resources to provide much for their fighters. But they work together to help each and every fighter to reach their highest potential; no one is held back. So when Loma’s father, who has dedicated his life to the sport, and the past twenty years to his gym, needed help, people were more than willing to help him get his daughter to where she needed to be.

Thanit Watthanaya

It only took 21 days of training for George Hickman, head coach of MMA at Tiger, to put her in for amateur competition. Loma won the fight by rear naked choke in the second round. Hickman knew then that his charge was ready turn to pro.

“It’s exciting times for Thai MMA,” he told VICE Sports. “Thailand had seen many foreigners come to learn the art of Thai fighting for MMA, but now we are going to see a small Isaan girl who has trained for less than 8 months go and shock the MMA world! I truly believe she will do incredible things in this sport and lead the way for other Thais.”

Loma has made a habit of catching the eyes of trainers, coaches, gamblers, and matchmakers from the world over. It takes a village to raise a child, and it takes a village to find success in Muay Thai. Now as Loma readies herself to tread through the uncharted waters of MMA, she goes forward with support of her village and the entire Muay Thai community in Thailand. She is on the threshold of opening doors for fellow Thais in MMA.

Not bad for a farmer’s daughter.

Courtesy: Lookboonmee Muay Thai Gym

Thanit Watthanaya

After Overcoming Poverty, Muay Thai Prodigy Loma Lookboonmee Sets Sights on MMA published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

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amtushinfosolutionspage · 7 years

Text

After Overcoming Poverty, Muay Thai Prodigy Loma Lookboonme Sets Sights on MMA

The noodle vendor wanted to know how Loma Lookboonme found herself on the famous Soi-Taied street in Phuket, Thailand.

After all, Loma, like the vendor, is a native of Isaan—the poorest and most underdeveloped region in the country. How could Loma afford to be here?

“I’m just a farmer’s daughter,” Loma said. But the truth is, Loma, 21, is far more than that.

Loma’s father Boonmee has run a Muay Thai gym for two decades. Loma grew up there. She began training when she was just seven years old. In the beginning, her father’s gym was nothing: no ring, no roof, not even a bag. Instead she trained in the dirt. And it was there on her family’s farm in Buriram that Loma learned the art of eight limbs. She traveled the countryside through the rough trails of temple fairs and festival fights looking for matchups. It didn’t take long before she ran out of opponents and began fighting boys.

She has been beating up boys in Thailand for practically her entire life. Now she trains at Tiger Muay Thai, one of the biggest and most well-equipped MMA gyms in the world—home to UFC fighters like Mark Hunt and Valentina Shevchenko. It was her Tiger gear that caught the noodle vendor’s attention. Soon, it may catch the world’s attention. Loma is slated to make her pro MMA debut with Invicta Fighting Championships on January 13 in Kansas City, Missouri. When she does, she will be the first ever Thai National to fight for the promotion.

Courtesy: Lookboonmee Muay Thai Gym

Thanit Watthanaya

Petchdam did not win.

“Loma beat him like she was beating a bag,” her mother recalled. “He didn’t have nothing on her.”

Those who believed in Loma tripled their money that night. No pictures or video exist from the fight, but no one in the Muay Thai community has forgotten. Now, Loma and the other fighters from her generation at Lookboonmee look after the up and coming fighters at her gym. Teaching and drilling technique into them so they can achieve success now and when they grow up. Lookboonmee houses more than fifteen active fighters but almost all the trophies at the gym belong to Loma. And even with that impressive trophy hoard, she’s missing all the belts she’s earned as a nine time Muay Thai Champion. In Thailand, gyms and champions must buy their championship belts as promoters only keep a few on hand for fight photos and ceremonial purposes. She’s won the stadium titles at Rangsit and Assawindam as well as the prestigious S-1 Championship from OneSongchai. That’s in addition to the six other regional titles she won. Fortunately, she’s been able to keep her gold medals from IFMA and the Asian Games.

Courtesy: Lookboonmee Muay Thai Gym

In grade 11, Loma was recruited for the Thai national team and since then has split her time training between her home gym Lookboonmee and flagship gym for the national team, Dejrat gym in Bangkok.

Thanit Watthanaya

Not bad for a farmer’s daughter.

Courtesy: Lookboonmee Muay Thai Gym

Thanit Watthanaya

After Overcoming Poverty, Muay Thai Prodigy Loma Lookboonme Sets Sights on MMA syndicated from http://ift.tt/2ug2Ns6

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johannesviii · 5 years

Text

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 1999

A list with quite possibly the most embarrassing #1 yet, and considering some of the previous ones, that’s really saying something.

Also, a very, very long list of honorable mentions.

Disclaimers:

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

This could have almost been a top fifteen, because holy f█cking shit look at this list of honorable mentions. I might eventually make a top 15 for some years (gosh I just finished my 2013 top and it’s a massacre of good songs, an absolute disaster, and I’m seriously considering making it a top 15 or 20 I swear), but for now, it’s still manageable.

Summer Son (Texas) - Why is this so hot. The lyrics aren’t even hot in the first place. What the hell.

That Don’t Impress Me Much (Shania Twain) - Not my favorite song from her but still very good. Fun fact, one of my English teachers was using songs as dictation exercises and that was the hardest one he ever used for that. I don’t think any of us got the Elvis line right. Also he’s solely responsible for me loving The Cure because the second song he used for this kind of exercise was Boys Don’t Cry. This has nothing to do with Shania Twain but I thought it was a fun little story to tell.

Jusqu’au Bout de la Nuit (Emile et Images) - Two French bands from the eighties team up and release a song which is composed of every single one of their hit songs from the eighties, with each chorus sung one after the other, and... it sounds great? And it charted?? My brother absolutely loved them, too. The only reason it’s not on the list is that it feels like cheating, in a way. I mean, half these songs could top some of my lists on their own. Putting them together is a dirty trick, guys! Oh well, I love you all anyway.

Baby One More Time (Britney Spears) - I really love this song and it was on the list at first, but overplay played a big role in its removal from it.

L’Ame Stram Gram (Mylène Farmer) - Has the privilege of being the first Mylène Farmer music video I ever saw in my life. Was incredibly confused but also fascinated. The song isn’t her best though, and she’s on so many of these lists that I claim self care on its removal from this one, especially because, uh... she’s still gonna appear on it anyway. Damn it.

Move Your Body (Eiffel 65) - I told you I loved stupid dance music didn’t I. Unfortunately things aren’t gonna get better as years pass. I just made a list (which is gonna be posted muuuuuuch later) where I put David Guetta six places higher than Adele. This isn’t a joke.

Save Tonight (Eagle Eye Cherry) - I genuinely love this song and it’s kinda sad I couldn’t fit it on any of the two lists where it was elligible.

La Manivelle (Wazoo) - This would NEVER have charted if La Tribu de Dana by Manau hadn’t been such an enormous hit the previous year. Not in a million years. And if it hadn’t, the world would have been a little less fun. So I’m glad. I love it and it was one of the last cuts from this list.

Kiss Me (Sixpence None the Richer) - Was also on the list at first. Was removed because it never ended on any compilation I made and that’s the only reason.

Well, that was long. Here’s the proper list.

10 - Crazy (Britney Spears)

US: Not on the list?? I was very surprised / FR: #14

So I dug up the first cd compilations I ever made for the previous list, and look what’s the first song on the third compilation I ever made!

Relistened to it, still love it to bits, put it on the list. Sorry Kiss Me.

9 - All Star (Smash Mouth)

US: #17 / FR: Not on the list

I know it’s impossible to listen to it with fresh ears after something like 15 years of memes. But it’s still damn good and a ton of fun to sing along with it.

8 - Ma Baker 99 (Boney M)

US: Not on the list / FR: #66

Where’s that photo of the cd compilation I mentioned in the previous list?

There it is.

Yep, it’s a remix, but it charted here, and it sounds and looks absolutely fantastic. I had never heard the original at the time for some reason, and that song sounded so badass. I could only understand isolated bits of the lyrics (like “she was the meanest cat in all Chicago town”, “the cops appeared too soon they couldn’t get away”, “she never could cry”) but it was enough to get a general idea, and that was back when I was starting to realise than most of the dance songs I enjoyed as a kid didn’t tell stories and weren’t about wizards and magic. So, a song about a mean woman who’s also a gangster?? I was like, wow, nice, a song I like with an actual story, give me twenty.

7 - Boom Boom Boom Boom (Vengaboys)

US: Not on the list / FR: #20

Told you I loved Vengaboys! It’s also on that third cd compilation I ever made!

Fun fact, at the time, for a while I didn’t know what the lyrics were and since I only knew a couple of words of English I was convinced a “broom” was somehow involved in the lyrics instead of a “room”.

6 - Souviens-toi du jour (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #73

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again ; I used to be a huge fan of her as a teenager and my brain somehow links her and her songs in general to some dark times in my life - and so, every single time she appears on one of my lists, I feel like I’m texting an unstable ex and that things will end horribly and I probably shouldn’t do that but, ugh, can’t help it, love her too much.

Ok so the first seconds are actually painful to listen to but holy shit, that’s a beautiful, beautiful song. When the chorus swells near the end, so full of hope and light? Amazing. Chills on my arms every single time. That’s from one of her best albums, too. I have nothing more to say about it.

5 - Better Off Alone (Alice Deejay)

US: Not on the list / FR: #30

I don’t have anything to say about this one apart from the fact one of my friends around 2005 thought the lyrics were “do you think you’re better? rofl lol” and I think that’s hilarious.

Moving on to- oh shit oh no not that song

4 - Je te rends ton amour (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #97

What I said in #6 also applies here and this song is so dark it feels even worse. That song used to be very important in my life. Bad memories, bad times. Really, really bad times.

So. Uh. This is a song about a woman in a painting, who’s despising her creator, and possibly (that’s very, very open to interpretation, here’s a translation) coming out of her frame to kill him. That’s quite possibly the weirdest story I’ve ever heard in a song, and I love it. And it sounds so sinister. God, the first notes. They are so ominous. And that brief moment of silence after the bridge, right before the guitar explodes again? Horrible chills. I’m not sure who killed who or what actually happened in the story but press F to pay respects.

Also the music video has nothing to do with the lyrics and it’s absolutely terrifying and I shouldn’t have watched this at 14 because it’s kinda burned into my mind now and it will never go away and you probably shouldn’t watch it either.

If it wasn’t so inextricably linked to bad memories, this song would be #2. I still love it and listen to it but I kinda jump like a scared rabbit whenever I hear it by surprise and it should come with its own trigger warning as far as I’m concerned.

3 - Narcotic (Liquido)

US: Not on the list / FR: #99

This is barely elligible. But I’m so, so glad it is. These chords right there? Love them. Love. Them.

Also here’s a fun story about this song and me. At first, I was like “oh wow, I can only understand one word out of five, but this sounds badass.” Then a couple of years later I was like “oh. Oh no. It’s about drugs.” And THEN a few years later I was like “oh shit oh no. It’s about sex.” But no, now that I can understand everything, it’s just a breakup song. It’s okay.

2 - Where I’m headed (Lene Marlin)

US: Not on the list / FR: #24

Ok so. Uh. I just realised this song was called Where I’m headed and not, as I believed for literally 18 years, “Pass By”. I had never checked. I have it on several tapes and several cd compilations, always labelled Pass By. It’s also called Pass By on the mp3 I still have in my playlist. I know I’m in the wrong here and probably never checked what the title was but I still feel like there’s been a glitch in the matrix. What happened.

Anyway. Fantastic song. Love it.

Now let’s embarrass myself beyond all hopes of redemption.

1 - Blue (Eiffel 65)

US: Not on the list (...yet. #49 in 2000) / FR: #2

So. Uh. Yeah.

Blue by Eiffel 65 was, for a long, long, LONG time, my favorite song ever.

See? This is one of my oldest lists of favorite songs.

Another one from several months later.

A cd compilation of my favorite songs ever, which I made around 2003 or 2004 as well, with a booklet with lyrics entirely copied by hand and with every page painstakingly illustrated with panels and characters from my favorite comic at the time, Horologiom.

You open the booklet, and look at that, Blue is the second song right after Children.

This silly song which lists blue things and has a nonsensical chorus and one of the dumbest music videos of the entire 90s was, indeed, for years, my favorite song ever. Why. How. Well, first, please remember I am, in fact, a sucker for dance music and electronic music ESPECIALLY when a piano is involved, but this isn’t at all why this song was special to me (and still is, actually).

As I already mentioned, music has colors to me and guess what’s the dominant color of this song? Yepppppp. This is one of the bluest songs ever made even if there’s a little black, yellow and green here and there - the only song I can think about right now which out-blues it is Derezzed by Daft Punk.

And I can’t even begin to explain how SATISFYING a blue song called “Blue” listing blue things and which has an extremely blue music video is.

I know. It’s an embarrassing #1 even for 1999. It took me a long time to post this list partly for this reason. But I wouldn’t be honest if it was placed at any other position. It’s stupid, it’s repetitive, it’s meaningless. I absolutely love it and I’ve loved it for twenty years.

Deal with it.

Next up: the year when I actually started to buy cds with my own money, with debatable results.

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #eye contact tw

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flauntpage · 7 years

Text

After Overcoming Poverty, Muay Thai Prodigy Loma Lookboonmee Sets Sights on MMA

The noodle vendor wanted to know how Loma Lookboonmee found herself on the famous Soi-Taied street in Phuket, Thailand.

After all, Loma, like the vendor, is a native of Isaan—the poorest and most underdeveloped region in the country. How could Loma afford to be here?

“I’m just a farmer’s daughter,” Loma said. But the truth is, Loma, 21, is far more than that.

Courtesy: Lookboonmee Muay Thai Gym

Thanit Watthanaya

Petchdam did not win.

“Loma beat him like she was beating a bag,” her mother recalled. “He didn’t have nothing on her.”

Courtesy: Lookboonmee Muay Thai Gym

In grade 11, Loma was recruited for the Thai national team and since then has split her time training between her home gym Lookboonmee and flagship gym for the national team, Dejrat gym in Bangkok.

Thanit Watthanaya

Not bad for a farmer’s daughter.

Courtesy: Lookboonmee Muay Thai Gym

Thanit Watthanaya

After Overcoming Poverty, Muay Thai Prodigy Loma Lookboonmee Sets Sights on MMA published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

0 notes