Palawan, my island home, is a place of great beauty and natural wonder. But during World War II it was the site of a horrific massacre.
On December 14, 1944 Japanese guards ordered their American prisoners of war into air raid shelters. Japanese soldiers poured gasoline on and into the American POW shelters and set them on fire with flaming torches, followed by hand grenades.
Okay, forget the Olivia Newton-John tune that I know is running through your head now (and if it wasn’t, it is now, thanks to me.)
I want to introduce you to a book that anyone interested in self-publishing needs to buy:
Let’s Get Digital : How To Self-Publish, And Why You Should by Irish author David Graughran (pronounced ‘gock-ran’).
And if you are a writer, but not interested in self-publishing, you should buy it anyway, because after all, the subtitle is: How To Self-Publish, And Why You Should, and the author present compelling motivations for any writer to consider the move to self-publishing.
.
Do you want information about editing and getting an editor? Formatting for various e-readers? Book cover images vs. thumbnails for the marketing sites? Blogging, social media, and platform-building? Pricing, contexts, give-aways and discounts? Reviews? ISBNs? International issues and copyrights? Then you want this book. David will save you hours–no, more like weeks–of research or trial and error (mostly error, let’s be honest). And for dessert, at the end of the book you will find encouraging testimonials from 33 self-published authors with a wide range of experience and success.
Then this book will not disappoint you. In fact, this book is so full of information, I could actually feel that my Kindle weighed more after I downloaded it.
Let’s Get Digital is available in both print and digital versions. Here’s the Amazon page.
So get the book. And check out David’s blog and Amazon author page. I think you’ll enjoy his blog, and you might be interested in his novel and other works.
Jump Start. Airline jet.
Those are two phrases you do not normally hear used together. Nor would you ever really want to.
But I did.
After I finally got my visa to Mongolia (see my previous post), I was ready to leave Beijing. I was flying on the Mongolian Airline (betcha didn’t know Mongolia even had an airline.) After the requisite heel-cooling in the terminal, we were herded onto a shuttle bus and driven out over the tarmac to our plane. Driven. And driven. And driven and driven. I began to wonder if I had bought a bus ticket to Ulaan Baatar by mistake.
We passed some Aeroflot jets. I was glad I wasn’t flying on those poorly-maintained death traps. I had heard they had the worst safety record in the world.
At last we arrived at our Miat Mongol jet. Mmmm, I thought. A Boeing 727. World class.
Not.
I settled into my seat and waited for the flight attendants to run us through the drill. You know, seat belts and exits, cell phones and smoke detectors. But we waited. And waited. The door to the plane remained open and the air conditioning was not even on. It didn’t take too long for the plane to feel hot and stuffy. And no refreshing beverages were being served, either. We did get the occasional scowl from a flight attendant, provided we were able to make eye contact.
Finally, someone complained. Of course it was an American. We’re always the vocal, impatient ones, it seems. I’m just glad to say it wasn’t me. “Why aren’t we leaving?” he asked, in a whiny tone of voice. “Why isn’t the air conditioning on?”
There was a simple explanation! The flight attendant informed us, “When the pilot tried to start the plane, the battery was dead. We are waiting for the generator.”
Huh? The battery is dead? You mean, like he left the headlights on? This was a new one on me. A new and uncomfortable one.
Sure enough, very soon, a truck pulled up beside us, towing a huge square generator behind it. The men pulled out the fattest jumper cables I have even seen and disappeared under our plane.
I recall calmly thinking, “OMG they are jump-starting this plane!” We were about to fly over the Gobi Desert and land in the mile-high city of Ulaan Baatar in Outer Mongolia, and they were jump-starting the plane.
I also remember thinking that if we didn’t all die, this would make a great blog someday.
Actually I didn’t use those exact words, because I had never heard of any no such thing as a blog in 1994.
And next thing you know, vroom! (or whatever noise planes make) and the pilot was revving up the jet and we were all set.
The adventure continued…
Today our Wednesday Word is food, most anyone’s favorite topic. Even dieters, while trying to hate or avoid food, think about food and talk about it constantly!
![](http://www.public-domain-image.com/food-and-drink-public-domain-images-pictures/pizza-public-domain-images-pictures/pepperoni-pizza-fast-food.jpg.html" title="Pepperoni pizza fast food">Pepperoni pizza fast food</a> by Jon Sullivan "Pizza")
Disclaimer: The following fun, bite-sized morsels of trivia about the language of eating, are just that… fun facts, and are not intended to show precise details of language history.The English word food, is ultimately related to the same root as our word fodder. Yikes! We like to be a little more elegant than our cattle when we think of ourselves sitting down for dinner. But that’s not the only bovine connection. When you think of fodder, where do you put it? You place it in a manger. And the word manger comes from the Latin word for “chewed.” Compare the Italian mangi (and feel free to imagine Weird Al Yankovic’s La-la-lasagna: “You need to eat. Mangi! Mangi!”)
As for all the other English food-related vocabulary we use, we seem to have borrowed them from across the entire continent of Europe:
One English word for food which ironically, I had never really heard until I came to the Philippines, is viand. Apparently this is a poetic word, meaning simply, “item of food.” But it is used in Philippine English for “something to go with your rice” (Tagalog ulam). You see, over here, rice is the basis for the meal, and everything else is a side dish. In fact, a birthday party serving “only” fried chicken and spaghetti will be considered a snack unless there is also rice. Only rice makes it truly a “meal.”
The whole concept of ulam (something to go with rice) is foreign to Westerners. Filipinos assume that other cultures will have some equivalent food. They will ask if bread is like rice for Americans. It’s not. Neither are potatoes. If anything, meat might be the closest (well, for non-vegetarians). In the USA, when we ask “What’s for dinner?” the answer usually names the meat (i.e. main dish). But there is simply no one food that we eat every day, every meal, and without which we feel cheated.
The Palawano word for food is pegkaan, literally the gerund “eating.” And the following 
items are considered food: rice, meat and root crops. Interestingly, vegetables are not “food.” I know many kids in the USA who would agree with this. But the difference is, Palawano eat vegetables everyday. They even like vegetables. It’s just that veggies are “something to go with” your meal, and not really solid enough to be called pegkaan itself.
But back to that word viand. It actually traces back to Latin for “to live.” That makes sense. Eat to live, man. And how about this: in Palawano the word they use to be “full” from eating, has the same root (biag) as the word “to live.”
That does not mean, of course, that Palawano and Latin are related. It does show that everyone everywhere knows that food is necessary for life.
More than that, food is life. Food and the sharing of food. Cuisine and hospitality. Mealtimes and intimate family conversation.
Food is at the core of what it means to be human, to be alive.
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We love yogurt at our house. Although, if I was browsing the dictionary, looking for yummy foods, I might have taken a pass:
Mmmm! Don’t we all love “semisolid sourish food” made from fermented milk (special bonus ingredient: added bacteria)?!
But ignoring the lexical turn-off, my wife makes great homemade yogurt. Lowfat. No added preservatives and questionable ingredients. It’s a delicious, healthy breakfast food, whether alone or with fruit and/or granola. It adds a nice touch to a fruit salad lunch.
But I know that everybody has heard of eating yogurt in those ways. Today, I want to impress you with my great innovation. I want you to know that it is possible to eat potato chips for lunch as a healthy alternative to say, a cheeseburger.
We have started using low-fat, unsweetened homemade semisolid fermented cultures of microorganisms (er… I mean, yogurt) where you might normally use mayonnaise or sour cream to make:
AWESOME DIPS
GUACAMOLE: I add a dollop (I’ve always wanted to use that word in a ![](http://www.public-domain-image.com/food-and-drink-public-domain-images-pictures/guacamole-avocados.jpg.html" title="Guacamole avocados">Guacamole avocados</a> by Jon Sullivan "Guacamole")
blog, for some reason) of yogurt to my guacamole. Normally, I do not use mayo. I am a purist, and I tend to go with the more hard-core “uncut” guac. But the yogurt adds a nice tang and slightly-creamy smoothness without overpowering the texture of the avocados.
CHIPOTLE DIP: Okay, let’s get one thing straight. ANY food or condiment (with the 
possible exception of breakfast oatmeal) will be better with chipotle peppers added. If you don’t understand this, or you doubt my word, don’t even both reading any further. This blog will only upset you. I chop up from 1/2 to 1 canned chipotle pepper and stir it into some yogurt, and ta-dah! A delicious, spicy, smokey dip is ready. It’s that easy.
GARLIC HORSERADISH: Another easy dip with killer flavor can be made by adding ![](http://www.public-domain-image.com/flora-plants-public-domain-images-pictures/vegetables-public-domain-images-pictures/garlic-pictures/white-garlic-cloves.jpg.html" title="White garlic cloves">White garlic cloves</a> by Jon Sullivan "Garlic knife")
some granulated garlic and horseradish to yogurt. Or use wasabi if you’re in a more exotic, Oriental mood. Believe me, this dip is not a good thing to have if you want to limit yourself to just one or two chips.
Try these out at your next party. Or just to be safe (and because you want to!) pre-test them by yourself (so you get to eat all the chips) and tell me what you think!
Okay, here’s a picture of the vase I bought as a gift for my wife by bargaining in Tagalog with a monolingual Chinese saleswoman in Beijing.
I’m not sure why I didn’t include this in the original post (Shopping in the Wrong Language), but in light of the HIGH DEMAND and all the requests (well, less than one, at least), I now proudly present:
Complimentary Montana Map & Helpful Travel Guide
You see, back on February 7 I installed Flag Counter on my blog. Now, I have not been obsessing about checking my flag/view stats. Of course not! But I do happen to know that since then, I have had site views from precisely 107 different countries (including Croatia, Latvia, and Saint Vincent & the Grenadines). And I have had views from 49 of the 50 states.
49. Only 49.
As I sat under the BIG SKY of the COUNTRY of the Philippines, I wondered, “Who is the holdout?” Well, it turns out that it’s the people of Montana.
Montana Ranch (Photo credit: csbarnhill)
Yep. Montana is the one state where no one has stepped up and fulfilled their duty by viewing my blog.
Montana residents may be too busy staring at vistas like this ranch.
But that’s no excuse!
Montana has many claims to fame (see my Map and Helpful Travel Guide, above). For one, my favorite humor blogger, Allie Brosh of Hyperbole and a Half, hails from Montana (she hails from there… but I think the sky also hails there, that is, when it’s not busy snowing.)
Here’s meteorological proof (from Google, not Wikipedia, so you know it’s true):
Where was I? Oh yeah, Hyperbole and a Half. Allie gives us a helpful Survival Guide to Living In Rural Montana. Here is one bit of great information she provides:
Montana is also where most of the dental floss in America comes from. I know this because I had Frank Zappa records in the 70s, with songs such are this:
I always found that song so… moving.
We also know from this excellent, lyrical source that dental floss ranchers er, tycoons up in Montana ride pygmy ponies.
And then of course, there’s Hannah Montana.
So come on, folks.
Would someone from Montana please view my site and help me capture this flag?
Maybe you know someone from Montana and can give them a call for me.
Or… if it’s not too much to ask, and you’re not too far from the Montana border, I mean, I hate to trouble you, but would you consider driving over and getting online?
Montana. It’ll only take a second…
…and I’m pretty sure they have internet there.
On my third day in Beijing, I did get finally my visa to Mongolia. It was almost boring, after the 
complexities of the first two days (see Outer Mongolia via Beijing). I took the bus (again), walked into the Mongolian consulate and stamp! bam! (no smile, and no “thank you”), my passport was ready to get me through immigration in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia.
Of course, if I thought the adventures were over, was I ever mistaken!
Well, not the ranch, but the Holiday Inn Lido Hotel in Beijing. Now I had some time to kill. I figured this was a good chance to buy a little something for my wife. And I thought I would eat out. I mean “out,” as in OUTSIDE the hotel, although I wondered how I might fare linguistically. I had not found much English fluency in Beijing up to that point.
I had already eaten a number of nice meals in the Lido. And ironically, I had been able to speak quite a bit of Tagalog (a language I know from living in the Philippines) because most of the entertainment staff were Filipinos. Pinoys (Tagalog slang for Filipinos) are gifted musicians, and they speak English and know all the Western pop music. So they get hired all over Asia to perform in the hotels which cater to Western business clients.
When I arrived at the Lido, I heard a woman singing in the upper lobby lounge. She sounded much like Kuh Ledesma (the Barbra Streisand or Celine Dion of the Philippines). She and her pianist looked like they might be Filipinos, too. So I thought I’d check it out. After leaving my bags in my room, I went to the lobby to redeem my “free weak fruit juice” coupon. I arrived just as she finished a set. She went from table to table, greeting the guests, and tried to get them to stay for the next set.
She asked, “Where are you from?” When some men answered in German, she greeted them in German (to their surprise) and promised to sing a song in German, if they waited around. Japanese? Sure… greeting in Japanese (without even asking) and the promise of a song. You name it. When she came to me, she spoke in English, rightly assuming I was an American. But she wasn’t expecting my answer, “Kapanggagaling ko lang sa Maynila (I just arrived from Manila).” Moments like that and the look on Filipinos’ faces are just one of the many reasons it was worth the effort to learn Tagalog.
The singer gasped and said, “You… you say that to my husband!” and called her accompanist Noel over. He laughed when I said (in Tagalog), “You wife was surprised that I can speak Tagalog.” Then he called another guy over and introduced him. He was also Filipino and worked for UNESCO and was enjoying his friends’ music. Turns out, the hotel was full of Filipinos, because the Chinese government didn’t trust them to live “off campus.” So they all lived in the hotel and signed for meals.
Noel informed me: The mariachi band playing in the Lido’s Mexican restaurant? Filipinos singing in Spanish. The “Indonesians” singing in the Taste-of-Southeast-Asia restaurant? Filipinos. Even the girl bowing and greeting guests with the wai (hands pressed together) at the Thai restaurant–Filipina.
But I never expected to use Tagalog, except with the Filipinos.
I went across the street to a little souvenir shop. As I expected, the woman spoke no English. And of course, I spoke no Chinese. But there is a script when shopping. She knew how it works, and so did I.
Customer looks at item and picks it up = Customer might like to buy it and probably wants to know the price.
So she punched in the price on her calculator and showed it to me. I could read the numbers and I correctly assumed this to be the price. Following the script. And here’s where I had an idea, and some fun.
I bargained using Tagalog.
I knew she wouldn’t understand English, so why not use Tagalog, which she would understand no less? I said, “Mahal iyan!” (Oh no, that’s too expensive) and suggested a lower price.
Customer says something after learning the price = Customer is bargaining.
Knowing the script, she responded by punching in a lower number, even though she had no idea what I had actually said. Seeing her new, lower price, I knew we were both playing the same game. So I offered a slightly higher price than my first suggestion. She showed me another number. Then, when I offered another price, she tapped her calculator again emphatically, without changing the number.
Shopkeeper gives the same price again = Last price. They won’t go any lower. Do you want to buy or not?
So I bought it. And the little item is on our shelf to this day.
Then I went across the street and ate at a delightful Szechuan restaurant. Spicy Chinese food. I
had been looking forward to that. The waitresses, all monolingual in Chinese, were dressed in ornate blue regional costume. This was in 1994, before I had a digital camera, and I could not ask which ethnic group their dress represented. But it was beautiful, like these sample images.
The menu had English under all the Chinese descriptions, so I could read the English and point to the Chinese and I ever got the dishes I had ordered!
Then it got weird.
For a minute I thought the girl knew my name (Bill). She keep repeating over and over “Bil? Bil?!” while I stared at her. But I finally realized she was asking if I wanted bil (i.e. “beer”).
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After dinner, I wanted to take a picture of the girls in their fancy costumes. The old “hold up camera, ask Okay?” routine worked fine.
Then it got weirder.
The hostess wanted to show off her English. Apparently, she must have studied a bit. She walked over, pointed to my camera, and asked me a question (and come on, people, comment on this post and GUESS WHAT SHE MEANT).
She smiled sweetly and said, “I make you one body?”
Go ahead and guess. You know the script…
(coming up: Jump-Started Jet – All Aboard!)
