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In a Japanese or Chinese restaurant in the Philippines, one is likely to be handed a spoon and fork for utensils. Chopsticks are available, but often only when requested.

Filipinos have a fondness for the spoon and fork because it makes it easy to consume their staple, rice. We love our rice fluffy so that it doesn’t clump and stick together. Thus, it would be darn near impossible to eat rice if we used chopsticks, although that may be anachronistic in Southeast Asia.

I learned to use chopsticks after my father came home from some sort of training in Taiwan. Bursting with enthusiasm for his new found knowledge, he promptly took us to Japanese and Chinese restaurants to impart this skill to us.

My first impression, of course, was that Taiwan must have been an entire nation of nutcases. Who, in his right mind, would bother to pluck his food with two unwieldy pieces of wood? The temptation to reach for the trusty spoon and fork was darn near overpowering.

The worst part for me was that I couldn’t pick several pieces of food at the same time. Thus, I was denied the symphony of flavors I had enjoyed in my mouth whilst scooping up my food with the spoon.

Over time, though, I learned to appreciate the advantages of chopsticks. The deliberate way by which I had to select which tasty morsel to ingest first made me understand that each serving had its own unique flavor to be appreciated in itself. There was beauty not just in the symphony, but in the unaccompanied aria as well.

Choosing between spoons and chopsticks is like choosing by which means we interact with others. If we choose the spoon, we jump into a gang, not paying much attention to individual qualities, but rather enjoying the interaction we have with everyone. In these situations, the spoon is the better choice, and it does its job well.

It is when the moments are more intimate that we have to use chopsticks; when a friend needs a shoulder to lean on, someone to listen, or when we decide whom to love or even to love at all. Chopsticks make us appreciate our loved ones as individuals, the smile that brings us boundless joy, the knowledge that we are cared for, and the hope of a bright future together.

Sometimes we don’t choose correctly, and we may brush aside someone who needs our attention, because we have chosen the spoon or we alienate ourselves from our coterie, when we wrongly choose the chopsticks.

It is in choosing correctly that one builds successful relationships with others. When we choose between chopsticks and the spoon and the fork, may we always choose wisely.

We’ve all heard the story. Although different versions mention either Magellan’s or Urdaneta’s expedition, the story is the same.

When the Spaniards came, they found some natives gathered around the campfire. Asking for the name of the place, they pointed to the ground. The natives thought they were pointing at the ashes of the campfire, so they replied, “Sugbo.”

Thus, the myth that the native name of Cebu is “Sugbo”.

This, of course, is a fictitious story. Magellan had the services of Enrique, adept in the language of the natives. Pigafetta records the name of the town as “Zzubu” (without a “g”).

As a little boy, I could never find an 80 year old who would tell me that the name of the city I was born in was “Sugbo.” It was always Cebu.

Unfortunately, decades of Tagalog ethnocide (Cebuanos are not taught Visayan, the language of which Cebuano is a dialect, in school and are encouraged to use Tagalog or English outside the classroom) ensured that many Cebuanos would believe this story. The result can be seen in how quickly native Cebuanos name their restaurants “Sugbo-sugbo” and such, and government officials hail their projects as for “Sugbuanons” (too close to "Sinugba", the Cebuano word for "barbecue", if you ask me. How about it, Sinugba-anons?).

Few things could be considered a greater insult to the Cebuanos. The name “Sugbo” is derogatory as it is. “Sugbo” was adopted as the “Pilipino” name for Cebu only because the Tagalogs managed to have Tagalog made the basis for the “Pilipino” language to the consternation of the Visayans.

The National Language Committee that was created then adopted a truncated alphabet without the letters C, J,V and Z. Unlike Tagalog, all four letters are essential in Visayan and Cebuano.

The committee then scoured the Visayan language for words that would come closest to “Cebu” that could be spelled in Tagalog. This search yielded the word, “Sugbo”. To give credence to the name, the fable that there was confusion between the Spaniards and early Cebuanos was created.

A noted Cebuano historian, Dr. Resil Mojares, claims that the name Cebu has its origins in an early Malay phrase that means “to walk on water.” (Ashes might be credible if Cebu had a volcano.) Other linguists opine, and this to me is the more logical explanation, that the name Zzubu, or Zebu, has the same origin as the Malay word “Sebu” which means “full” (as in stomach) or having in abundance.

If we go over Pigafetta’s chronicles, it is clear that the town of Zzubu was the most developed or civilized of all the towns of the Philippines, to be surpassed by Manila only when the Spaniards made it their capital. Thus, that the native name of Zzubu or Zebu meant “a place of abundance” is the more likely origin of the proud city’s name.

Time to forget “Sugbo.”

Solar Sports, the exclusive carrier of the Manny Pacquiao - Erik Morales fight (you couldn’t even see it on ESPN) suffered a major embarassment when everyone learned of the result before they could broadcast the match, losing a lot of viewers who would have otherwise lapped up their sponsor’s ads.

Solar obviously hadn’t heard of the internet, text messaging and in some cases, International Direct Dial. The less fortunate fight fans even had the pleasure of hearing the fight live blow for blow on radio, harkening back to the ’40’s and ’50s.

There obviously is no end to corporate greed, but this time, Solar Sports’ plot backfired on it.

In order to expand advertising time, carriers of major fights delay the broadcast so that they can expand the time in between rounds (1 minute) to around 15 minutes.

Thus, come fight time, the unfortunate Filipino viewer who doesn’t know better is treated to the undercard.

By pretending that we still lived in the dark ages, however, Solar Sports lost a lot of viewers when word had spread that our boy Manny had lost.

If I remember correctly, what Solar Sports did is illegal. Mr. Ferdinand Marcos was a fight fan and banned this nefarious practice.

Now when I was a little boy before greedy TV stations discovered this trick, the way to make advertising time was to generate excitement by gathering a bunch of boxing experts who would analyze the strengths of the boxers and show documentaries about the fighters’ lives and careers, both of which would allow for lots of advertising, but, come fight time, the broadcast would be LIVE, even if the quality of the video was as good as that of Apollo 11’s landing on the moon. Heck, we even got to see those pretty "round girls".

All that however, has disappeared in favor of G-R-E-E-D.

They should change the name to SO-LONG SPORTS, for thinking that they could make the fight fans wait for so long.

In memory of Pope John Paul II, my friend and I placed flowers at the only spot he held mass in the City of Cebu, at the IT park at a corner near People’s Support. We thought others would follow suit, but because the cross that used to mark the spot (the guards informed me it had been moved to Ayala Heights, up in the mountains) was no longer there, they had a hard time finding the spot, so our plan to build a mountain of flowers for the Pope ended with two bouquets.

I think maybe the guys at Ayala should restore the cross and build a small chapel there with the cross at its altar, if only to honor the memory of this great man.

Of course, in this City and Province where the residents notoriously fail to give any significance to historical landmarks (who else would convert Fort Santiago into a zoo, leave the City cemetery where a president is buried to squatters, and jacket a Spanish watchtower in concrete?), that’s not likely to happen.

Cebu City is referred to as the “Queen City” of the Philippines in honor of Queen Jumamay, protector and keeper of Cebu’s former patron, the Santo Niño de Cebu (image of the Child Jesus).

The wife of Cebu’s ruler when Ferdinand Magellan landed in Cebu, Rajah Humabon, she took the Spanish name “Juana” when baptized a Catholic by Father Pedro Valderama, chaplain of Magellan’s expedition.

Antonio Pigafetta, chronicler and “spin doctor” of Ferdinand Magellan, presented Queen Juana with the Image of the Santo Niño.

Well, we all know what happened to good ol’ Ferdie. Having taken sides with Rajah Humabon in gratitude for his hospitality, he launched the most unsuccessful attack on Lapu-Lapu, Humabon’s rival. Apparently, he failed to realize that Lapu-Lapu and his men were deep in training in the martial art of “arnis” precisely to fight Humabon.

So Spain sent another expedition to the Far East Region headed by an Agustinina priest, Andres Urdaneta. Fr. Andres arrived in Cebu on April 27, 1565.

Because of suspicions that the Spaniards had returned to exact vengeance upon the natives for the death of Magellan (the word “ally” must have been lost in the translation. Why on earth didn’t they just attack Lapu-Lapu together?), battles broke out and then Zzubu (it was never “Sugbo” until Tagalogs tried to make Tagalog the national language, notice how you cannot spell “Cebu”, “Zebu” or “Zzubu” using the Tagalog alphabet. Let’s get rid of “Sugbo” already) was reduced to rubble. Fr. Andres had obviously learned the bitter lessons of Magellan’s ill-fated expedition.

The image of the Child Jesus was later found under a pile of ashes unscathed. Other accounts have either Queen Juana protecting the statue after the village had fallen or the statue being restored to the Queen, who reigned for a while as the city’s symbolic leader, for safekeeping.

The Santo Niño is credited by most Cebuanos with many miracles, and for keeping the island and province of Cebu safe from natural disasters and the dangers of the insurgency and terrorism in the Country.

Thus, it is only fitting that Cebuanos call their city the “Queen City”.

Compare that to the Ilonggos who, in typical fashion, seem to be suffering under the impression that the title “Queen City” belongs to the city that is “second best to Manila”.

Well, there’s no argument about which city that is, is there?