Most of my law school classmates joined the labor force just one month after taking the exams. Not confident with my performance, I put off work and job hunting until after I passed. Just a few weeks into unemployment, though, I realized that my finances would not make it through another month so when my mom offered to pay for my fare to the US and give me allowance enough to last me three months, I said yes.
At the time, my mom was living in Santa, Fe, New Mexico, and was working at a local catholic hospital as a palliative care consultant. Right now, she is based in Connecticut, working at a hospice facility as a consultant. Being away from us for most of the year, she was always eager to have us come over and spend a few months with her. I was excited, too, because I missed her and because it would be my first winter in America.
I was to fly from Manila to L.A. with two of my sisters early in November. Just as we were finalizing our plans, I realized that my passport had been expired for over a year. I had no choice but to stay behind and fix my passport. Fortunately, I had an open flight booking as I was travelling as a chance passenger under my brother's privileges as a flight attendant of Emirates. Also, a good friend of mine extended her mother's consular privilege to me, allowing me to schedule my passport renewal within the week, and get it in just ten days.
I was finally able to fly from Manila to L.A. on the last day of November, just after black Friday madness and thanksgiving. I stayed in L.A. for a couple of days before heading to Albuquerque, New Mexico via United Airlines.
Of all the states I've been to, I tend to think that L.A. has the largest density of immigrants. Mom lived there, for a while too, while waiting for her residency papers to be finalized, and before she moved to Alexandria, Louisiana. The influence of immigration is evident in L.A.'s food culture as restaurants serving cuisine from across the globe are rife. Also, the structures in certain immigrant-dense areas had some influence, particularly Mexican and Spanish. Even downtown L.A. did not look distinct such that you'll associate it with L.A. It wasn't like New York, with it's city lights and vibrant night life, and you understand why it's dubbed "the city that never sleeps." It was a city like any other, with ghetto areas selling I heart LA shirts and cheap Louis Vuitton knock-offs.You don't really get what L.A. is all about just by going to downtown L.A.
The City of Stars
I remember the first time I went to L.A., my uncle insisted that he take me to Rodeo Drive, and to the famous HOLLYWOOD sign before I left for the Philippines. I told him I didn't really want to, as I had already been to Hollywood Boulevard and the Kodak Theater and as I still had a lot of packing to do, but he insisted. I really should have just stayed home. Rodeo Drive is basically a shopping district, with boutiques lining the entire street. The Hollywood sign was also, basically, just a sign. A huge sign. It was nothing compared to Hollywood Boulevard where there is a little bit of history, a little bit of soul.
Hollywood Boulevard, when I went there, was not as glamorous as depicted in old movies about old Hollywood. To be fair, though, I was there at midday when the street was practically still asleep and without the vibrant neon lights of theater billboards. The entire stretch is lined with tall palm trees, as in postcards and movies. It's (in)famous Walk of Fame, a long sidewalk where Hollywood's stars are honored by having their names imprinted on a star placed on the length of the boulevard, was teeming with tourists, in search of a star's star. Characters from famous Hollywood movies come alive and walk along the boulevard alongside tourists to entertain (or scam) and have their photos taken.
The Kodak Theater, home to the Academy Awards since 2002, is the center piece of Hollywood Boulevard (although some would argue that the Chinese Theater rivals it's facade).Every year, devotees of Hollywood turn on their TVs to watch their favorite actors and actresses roll down Hollywood Boulevard in their stretch limos and step into the red carpet donning the biggest names in fashion. They tune in, not so much to find out what quality movies are out there (because honestly, at the end of the day, White Chicks would still fare better over Everybody's Alright). They tune in, yearly, to the Oscars and all the awards nights of the year, to see their stars put on a show, walking down the red carpet and posing before hundreds of cameras, delivering acceptance speeches or graciously accepting losses, with all dramatic flair, to maintain, if not regain, their relevance.
That, to me, is what L.A. is all about. The Kodak theater is not the only site for L.A.'s devotion to it's stars. Since 2008, the Primetime Emmy's has been held at the Nokia Theater in Downtown L.A. The Nokia Theater also usually hosts the finale of American Idol. In 2004, L.A. also became the permanent home of the Grammy's, which since then has been held at the Staples Center, home to the L.A. Lakers.This was fitting, considering that L.A., according to the Rolling Stones Magazine, was the site of the rise of popular music (to which the vitality of the music industry is owed). L.A.'s better-known history has to do with creating stars and demanding and ensuring the public's devotion to them. As a testament, many aspiring actors and musicians still travel to L.A., a seeming pilgrimage to help them in their quest for a place in the entertainment industry.
Sometimes, I think, stars are like gods whose existence depend on the people's devotion, such that they will cease to exist once the people have lost devotion. Through it's celebration, awards nights, premieres, and creative spaces like their grand theaters, L.A. ensures that its stars will never cease to exist.
But I digress.
There are also areas in the city that are worth a visit, for a bit of culture. Like Getty Museum, an architectural feat, a beautiful structure from above and from within, imagined and brought to life by J. Paul Getty, a devotee of the arts.
The Getty Museum is an art museum housing art from as far back as the middle ages. It was established by J. Paul Getty, an avid art collector, whose growing art collection required a large location. In 1983, after J. Paul Getty passed away, the Getty Center received a bequest of US$1.2 Billion from his estate, becoming the richest museum in the world and enabling it to acquire even more pieces of art.
The Getty's buildings were designed by architect Richard Meier, who is famous for geometric designs.
It's gardens and installations, which to me are equally noteworthy, were planned and designed by Robert Irwin, who is famous for installation art and landscape projects.
As with most areas in the city, getting there required having a car and a driver. The area was located on a Mountain overlooking the interstate highway, about a thirty-minute drive from my cousin's house in Cerritos, L.A. This, to me, is often a good sign because it usually meant that the museum is housed in huge spaces rather than in a cramped building in the city. In this respect, the museum did not disappoint. It's art collection enjoyed as much space as necessary for it's audience to appreciate each piece with as much attention.
The best area in the museum, for me, was it's cafe. Not for the food or the coffee but for it's tall, imposing, pillars and how their shadows fall across the floor.It looks peaceful.It looks like the perfect place to talk, or read a book, or study.
It seems like a perfect place for contemplation. You can almost imagine how tragically beautiful it's ruins would be, centuries from now, as though it was designed to be tragically beautiful one day. Like it's stars who end up being just that when all the devotion is lost and when they are forgotten--tragically beautiful.
At the time, my mom was living in Santa, Fe, New Mexico, and was working at a local catholic hospital as a palliative care consultant. Right now, she is based in Connecticut, working at a hospice facility as a consultant. Being away from us for most of the year, she was always eager to have us come over and spend a few months with her. I was excited, too, because I missed her and because it would be my first winter in America.
I was to fly from Manila to L.A. with two of my sisters early in November. Just as we were finalizing our plans, I realized that my passport had been expired for over a year. I had no choice but to stay behind and fix my passport. Fortunately, I had an open flight booking as I was travelling as a chance passenger under my brother's privileges as a flight attendant of Emirates. Also, a good friend of mine extended her mother's consular privilege to me, allowing me to schedule my passport renewal within the week, and get it in just ten days.
I was finally able to fly from Manila to L.A. on the last day of November, just after black Friday madness and thanksgiving. I stayed in L.A. for a couple of days before heading to Albuquerque, New Mexico via United Airlines.
Of all the states I've been to, I tend to think that L.A. has the largest density of immigrants. Mom lived there, for a while too, while waiting for her residency papers to be finalized, and before she moved to Alexandria, Louisiana. The influence of immigration is evident in L.A.'s food culture as restaurants serving cuisine from across the globe are rife. Also, the structures in certain immigrant-dense areas had some influence, particularly Mexican and Spanish. Even downtown L.A. did not look distinct such that you'll associate it with L.A. It wasn't like New York, with it's city lights and vibrant night life, and you understand why it's dubbed "the city that never sleeps." It was a city like any other, with ghetto areas selling I heart LA shirts and cheap Louis Vuitton knock-offs.You don't really get what L.A. is all about just by going to downtown L.A.
The City of Stars
I remember the first time I went to L.A., my uncle insisted that he take me to Rodeo Drive, and to the famous HOLLYWOOD sign before I left for the Philippines. I told him I didn't really want to, as I had already been to Hollywood Boulevard and the Kodak Theater and as I still had a lot of packing to do, but he insisted. I really should have just stayed home. Rodeo Drive is basically a shopping district, with boutiques lining the entire street. The Hollywood sign was also, basically, just a sign. A huge sign. It was nothing compared to Hollywood Boulevard where there is a little bit of history, a little bit of soul.
Hollywood Boulevard, when I went there, was not as glamorous as depicted in old movies about old Hollywood. To be fair, though, I was there at midday when the street was practically still asleep and without the vibrant neon lights of theater billboards. The entire stretch is lined with tall palm trees, as in postcards and movies. It's (in)famous Walk of Fame, a long sidewalk where Hollywood's stars are honored by having their names imprinted on a star placed on the length of the boulevard, was teeming with tourists, in search of a star's star. Characters from famous Hollywood movies come alive and walk along the boulevard alongside tourists to entertain (or scam) and have their photos taken.
The Kodak Theater, home to the Academy Awards since 2002, is the center piece of Hollywood Boulevard (although some would argue that the Chinese Theater rivals it's facade).Every year, devotees of Hollywood turn on their TVs to watch their favorite actors and actresses roll down Hollywood Boulevard in their stretch limos and step into the red carpet donning the biggest names in fashion. They tune in, not so much to find out what quality movies are out there (because honestly, at the end of the day, White Chicks would still fare better over Everybody's Alright). They tune in, yearly, to the Oscars and all the awards nights of the year, to see their stars put on a show, walking down the red carpet and posing before hundreds of cameras, delivering acceptance speeches or graciously accepting losses, with all dramatic flair, to maintain, if not regain, their relevance.
That, to me, is what L.A. is all about. The Kodak theater is not the only site for L.A.'s devotion to it's stars. Since 2008, the Primetime Emmy's has been held at the Nokia Theater in Downtown L.A. The Nokia Theater also usually hosts the finale of American Idol. In 2004, L.A. also became the permanent home of the Grammy's, which since then has been held at the Staples Center, home to the L.A. Lakers.This was fitting, considering that L.A., according to the Rolling Stones Magazine, was the site of the rise of popular music (to which the vitality of the music industry is owed). L.A.'s better-known history has to do with creating stars and demanding and ensuring the public's devotion to them. As a testament, many aspiring actors and musicians still travel to L.A., a seeming pilgrimage to help them in their quest for a place in the entertainment industry.
Sometimes, I think, stars are like gods whose existence depend on the people's devotion, such that they will cease to exist once the people have lost devotion. Through it's celebration, awards nights, premieres, and creative spaces like their grand theaters, L.A. ensures that its stars will never cease to exist.
But I digress.
There are also areas in the city that are worth a visit, for a bit of culture. Like Getty Museum, an architectural feat, a beautiful structure from above and from within, imagined and brought to life by J. Paul Getty, a devotee of the arts.
The Getty Museum is an art museum housing art from as far back as the middle ages. It was established by J. Paul Getty, an avid art collector, whose growing art collection required a large location. In 1983, after J. Paul Getty passed away, the Getty Center received a bequest of US$1.2 Billion from his estate, becoming the richest museum in the world and enabling it to acquire even more pieces of art.
The Getty's buildings were designed by architect Richard Meier, who is famous for geometric designs.
It's gardens and installations, which to me are equally noteworthy, were planned and designed by Robert Irwin, who is famous for installation art and landscape projects.
As with most areas in the city, getting there required having a car and a driver. The area was located on a Mountain overlooking the interstate highway, about a thirty-minute drive from my cousin's house in Cerritos, L.A. This, to me, is often a good sign because it usually meant that the museum is housed in huge spaces rather than in a cramped building in the city. In this respect, the museum did not disappoint. It's art collection enjoyed as much space as necessary for it's audience to appreciate each piece with as much attention.
The best area in the museum, for me, was it's cafe. Not for the food or the coffee but for it's tall, imposing, pillars and how their shadows fall across the floor.It looks peaceful.It looks like the perfect place to talk, or read a book, or study.
It seems like a perfect place for contemplation. You can almost imagine how tragically beautiful it's ruins would be, centuries from now, as though it was designed to be tragically beautiful one day. Like it's stars who end up being just that when all the devotion is lost and when they are forgotten--tragically beautiful.
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