This might not be the typical expat blog, written by a German expat, living in the Philippines since 1999. It's different. In English and in German. Check it out! Enjoy reading!
Dies mag' nun wirklich nicht der typische Auswandererblog eines Deutschen auf den Philippinen sein. Er soll etwas anders sein. In Englisch und in Deutsch! Viel Spass beim Lesen!
You plan to move to the Philippines? Wollen Sie auf den Philippinen leben?
There are REALLY TONS of websites telling us how, why, maybe why not and when you'll be able to move to the Philippines. I only love to tell and explain some things "between the lines". Enjoy reading, be informed, have fun and be entertained too!
Ja, es gibt tonnenweise Webseiten, die Ihnen sagen wie, warum, vielleicht warum nicht und wann Sie am besten auf die Philippinen auswandern könnten. Ich möchte Ihnen in Zukunft "zwischen den Zeilen" einige zusätzlichen Dinge berichten und erzählen. Viel Spass beim Lesen und Gute Unterhaltung!
Visitors of germanexpatinthephilippines/Besucher dieser Webseite.Ich liebe meine Flaggensammlung!
, or cranial nerve X, is the longest cranial nerve, running from the brainstem to the abdomen and playing a crucial role in the brain-body connection. As a key part of the parasympathetic nervous system, it regulates many involuntary bodily functions, including heart rate, digestion, and breathing, and is essential for actions like swallowing and coughing. It also transmits sensory information from organs like the heart, lungs, and gut back to the brain.
Function
Regulates involuntary functions:
It controls a wide range of automatic processes, such as heart rate, respiration, and digestion.
Facilitates communication:
It serves as a two-way "superhighway" between the brain and the body, sending sensory information from organs back to the brain and motor commands from the brain to the organs.
Supports essential reflexes:
It is involved in critical reflexes like swallowing, coughing, and gagging.
Influences mood:
Emerging evidence suggests a role in regulating mood and stress response, partly through the brain-gut axis.
Anatomy and pathway
Origin:
It originates in the brainstem and exits the skull through the jugular foramen.
Course:
It travels through the neck and thorax into the abdomen, passing through or connecting with the heart, lungs, and a large portion of the digestive tract.
Name:
Its name comes from the Latin word "vagus," meaning "wandering," due to its extensive pathway.
Filipino Christmas gatherings are built on memory, passed down through handwritten recipes and stories told in warm kitchens. Among those traditions, gulaman has always had a quiet but cherished presence. I remember making brightly colored jelly with my late mother, the two of us stirring patiently as red and green liquid thickened in a pot. We cut them into shapes once they cooled, a simple holiday ritual that felt like an activity and a treat all at once. Those moments taught me that food need not be elaborate to carry meaning.
That sentiment continues today, especially with pantry staples like Mr. Hat Gulaman finding new life during the holidays. With seven flavored and six unflavored variants, it offers room for creativity, whether one prefers familiar desserts or something new. It sets quickly and requires no baking, which suits the season when the oven is full and the table is already heavy with lechon, roast chicken and pasta. A no bake dessert becomes an easy win for busy hosts.
Classic dishes such as Cathedral Window Jelly still anchor dessert spreads, but more modern ideas are gaining space beside them. Some home cooks now prepare Coffee Delight Jelly Cake or Coconut Langka Jelly, bringing lighter textures after a rich noche buena. Others serve No Steam Chocolate Pudding Cake, smooth and indulgent without extra steps. Even drinks are evolving, with Mango Tapioca Jelly or Thai Iced Milk Tea studded with soft cubes for a refreshing finish.
Families with young children may enjoy Merry and Bright Ornaments Jelly, made with strawberry and pandan flavored gulaman simmered with sugar then molded into festive shapes. After chilling, the jellies unmold like glass ornaments and brighten any Christmas table without much effort.
For a more refined option, Lychee Brulee blends lychee flavored gulaman and condensed milk before chilling in ramekins. A thin layer of sugar on top caramelizes under a flame, giving a delicate flavor and the satisfying crack of brulee without the need for baking.
These desserts travel well, store easily and can be prepared ahead. They are ideal for potlucks and family visits, staying intact even after long drives. Adjusting water measurements changes the texture from firm to gentle wobble, depending on preference.
Gulaman may be modest, but it carries memory, color and joy. On a table filled with tradition, it adds something light and festive. It honors the past and leaves room for new rituals, one jewel toned slice at a time.
Undoubtedly, Dawn Zulueta-Lagdameo possesses one of the most radiant and enchanting faces in Philippine showbiz, capturing the hearts of many. At this moment, she has gracefully stepped away from the spotlight, dedicating her time to the warmth and joys of family life. However, she has not entirely closed the door on her illustrious career, leaving the possibility of a triumphant return to the limelight.
Dawn Zulueta-Lagdameo and daughter Ayisha Madlen Lagdameo (Marie France Facebook)
When asked what would encourage her to return to showbiz, Dawn replied, "I think it's a nice project. There have been offers, but no script has really excited me."
It seems that Dawn is currently enjoying her time away from showbiz, bonding with her family, traveling, and exploring new things.
"I'm very happy. I like it. I was able to explore my other interests. I have time with my kids. I have time to travel because my son is studying abroad. So I get to see him and also attend Ayisha (Madlen Lagdameo). I am happy," said Dawn, during the 40th anniversary of Marie France at Uma Nota in BGC, Taguig City, recently. This is the first time Dawn and her daughter, Ayisha Madlen, have appeared together in an endorsement.
The last time Dawn appeared in a movie was in "Family History" opposite comedian Michael V. in 2019.
Lately, Dawn shared that she and her daughter have become immersed in the vibrant world of K-pop. She said her daughter was six when she fell in love with K-pop. They are both fervent admirers of the electrifying beats and dazzling performances of BTS and Blackpink, reveling in the energy and artistry that these iconic groups bring to the stage.
"Noong time na yun hindi ko pa naiintindihan. Then naging uso na sila with the dances, natuwa ako sa daughter ko and nakisabay talaga ako sa kanya. Before I knew it, nagustuhan ko na rin ang mga K-pop. (At that time, I didn't understand it. Then they became trendy with the dances. I was happy for my daughter, and I really kept up with her. Before I knew it, I also liked K-pop)," Dawn said.
Dawn crossed her fingers that she and her daughter could secure tickets for the BTS concert, tentatively scheduled for March 2026.
“I enjoy K-pop because it brings me back to when I was a teenager. I remember what it was like then, so much energy. And it's their music, the artistry, I think they are killing the choreography. They are so popular, everywhere they go," said Dawn when asked why she loves K-pop.
The teen ballerina also said that she was excited to watch the Blackpink concert in Bulacan last weekend.
"I really love spending time with my mom. She's a fun person to be with. I see her as someone I could talk to about anything. She's a cool mom," said Ayisha.
Dawn Zulueta-Lagdameo and daughter Ayisha Madlen at Marie France's 40th anniversary bash in Taguig City.
Responding, Dawn smiled and said, "I try to be cool."
Growing up, Ayisha said she would accompany her mom to shoots. "I thought it was fun. I like watching her act. It inspired me to pursue the arts."
Ayisha mentioned that while showbiz seems exciting, she is more interested in dancing.
"Her priority right now is her studies. But it's up to her what she wants to do after college," the celebrity mom said.
Dawn, now in her 50s, admits she is a strict mom. "Pretty much."
On young men trying to court Ayisha, Dawn laughed and said, "I don't deal with that. Anton (Lagdameo) deals with that. Sa mga manliligaw, si husband ang bahala d'yan. (For suitors, my husband will take care of that.)"
Dawn said she prayed for a daughter who would be interested in dancing like her.
"I've always dreamed of a daughter who could dance. When she was still in my stomach, I was saying, 'I hope she likes to dance the way I want to dance. Fortunately, she does. She's so much better at doing it than I am," she said.
Dawn shared her enjoyment with her daughter on TikTok, although she clarified that she doesn't have an account.
"I want to take this opportunity to let you know that I don't have a TikTok account. Ayisha has an account, but I love the dances on TikTok," she also said.
On aging gracefully, Dawn remarked, "Aging gracefully, I stay away from toxic people or stress. I try to keep my private life really private. I focus on my family. We all know about eating well and drinking water. But I think it's more internal. It's what happens in your mind."
In the Philippines, Christmas is a major annual celebration, as in most countries of the Christian world. It is celebrated as a public holiday in the country on December 25, concurrent with other countries.
As one of the two predominantly Catholic countries in Asia (the other one being East Timor), the Philippines celebrates the world's longest Christmas season spanning what it refers to as the "ber months".With Christmas music played as early as August, the holiday season gradually begins by September, reaching its peak in December.
The celebrations of Christmas in the Philippines have deep influences ofCatholicism, tracing their roots back to Spanish colonial rule from 1521 to 1898. Currently, the Philippines holds the longest running festivity of theChristmas season in the world, which begins on September 1.
Christmas Day in the Philippines is primarily a family affair. The Misa de Gallo is celebrated on December 25 and is usually one of several Masses that all family members (including non-churchgoers) are present and is often celebrated between 10 pm and midnight, a schedule preferred by many Filipinos who stay up late on Christmas Eve for the night-long celebration of the Noche Buena. Fireworks and most merrymaking devices are sometimes used at the start of Christmas.
Preferably in the morning, Filipinos typically visit their extended family, especially to pay their respects to senior relatives. This custom of giving respect is enacted through the "Págmamáno". A supplicant takes the back of an elder's hand and presses it against the forehead while giving the greeting, Máno, pô (lit. "[Thy] hand, please"). The elder often responds by reciting a blessing or simply acknowledging the gesture, and in return gives "Aguinaldo" or money in the form of crisp banknotes, often placed in a sealed envelope such as an ang pao. Godparents, in particular, are socially obligated to give presents or aguinaldo to their godchildren, to whom they often give larger amounts compared to other younger relatives.
A festive lunch may follow the "Págmamáno". The menu is heavily dependent upon the finances of the family, with richer families preparing grand feasts while poorer families choose to cook simple yet special dishes. Some families choose to open presents on this day after lunch.
When nighttime falls, members of the family usually return home or linger to drink, play parlor games, and chat. Some may opt to have another feast for dinner, while a minority spend the entire day at home to rest after the previous days' festivities.
The song "Christmas in Our Hearts", released by Jose Mari Chan in 1990 has become the most famous song for Christmas in the Philippines. It is synonymous with the start of the Christmas season, often played in homes, shopping malls, and on radio stations as early as September.
For many Filipinos, simply being with friends and family is the essence of Christmas. It's the time when Balikbayan relatives come home and barkada reunions abound. Busy students and office workers take breaks to stay home with their parents.
Christmas in the Philippines became the most touching event for me since I am living here as an expat.
Christmas in the Philippines is a big deal. Unlike in most other parts of the world, Filipinos begin celebrating Christmas in September. The “ber” months, as they are called, herald the start of the Christmas season with traditional lanterns being made, carols heard in shops, and Christmas gifts stacked high on shelves. Many people ask: “Do they celebrate Christmas in the Philippines?” and the answer to that is a resounding “Yes!”
Makabayan slams DTI over claim that ₱500 is enough for Noche Buena
(Photo from Unsplash)
Members of the Makabayan bloc went off on the Department of Trade and Industry (DTI)--and the whole Marcos administration for that matter--after DTI Secretary Cristina Roque claimed that a budget of ₱500 was ample budget for a Noche Buena meal of ham, macaroni, and spaghetti. Read more
Why is it called pandesal? 🤔
In this video, we dive into the surprising history behind the Philippines’ most iconic breakfast bread. From its Spanish origins and linguistic evolution to its cultural impact on Filipino homes, discover the full story behind pan de sal — the “bread of salt” that became a symbol of family, comfort, and tradition.
If you grew up waking to the smell of warm pandesal, this deep dive will make you appreciate it even more. 🇵🇭🥖
Timestamps:
0:00 — Introduction
0:50 — History & Origin of the Name
1:51 — How Pandesal Became the Everyday Filipino Bread
2:54 — Cultural Significance and Daily Life
3:54 — Modern Variations and Evolution
4:48 — Linguistic Transformation
5:35 — Economic and Social Impact
6:24 — Modern-Day Appreciation
7:20 — Conclusion
Iam turning 31 soon, and at this point, people might tell me that I am about to be dropped from the calendar—that is, because a calendar month only goes up to 31! At this age, I feel “more adult” than I was at 21, so whenever I look at a 21-year-old, especially pictures of myself at that age, I cannot help but think: “They are still so childlike!”
In times long past, we used to have rituals that distinguished the threshold between child and adult. This is called a “rite of passage,” because a person transitions from one status to another. This means that they get more benefits as part of the adult world, but it also means that they have more responsibilities. Around the time a person turns 18 to 21, they can now buy alcohol and cigarettes, enter a casino, and watch R-rated movies.
But they are usually also expected to get a job, pay taxes, get married, and eventually, start a family. They are expected to be able to make clear decisions. Yes, there are benefits, but also responsibilities.
Meaningful life transitions
Many Indigenous cultures around the world still have their own rites of passage, but for urbanized and globalized people, these rituals have become superficial performances of meaningful life transitions. If anything, many Indigenous traditions are at risk of extinction precisely because of how Westernized we are becoming—through influences from Hollywood and our social media feeds!
Religions have been very consistent with these rites. In Catholicism, the Rite of Confirmation that children go through at age 12 is meant to be a meaningful transition from growing up in a Catholic household to actually accepting Catholicism as their personal faith.
But not everyone is Catholic, and not everyone finds Confirmation meaningful. I was raised Catholic, and, sorry, I do not even remember my own Confirmation.
Filipino rites of passage
So it got me thinking: What are some rites of passage we still practice today? What rituals do we actually do in our modern-day lives that most Filipinos are expected to celebrate? (Though this does not mean that every Filipino will go through it the same way, as there might be some societal pressures to do it.)
First, I immediately think of a girl’s debut in the Philippines, which happens when she turns 18. It’s supposed to celebrate the blossoming of a woman, but this might also reinforce old ideas of “femininity” (pagkababae). Of course, it is also an avenue for a family to showcase their wealth. Imagine all the magnificent debuts you have been to, and think about how much one of those costs—sometimes it can be just as expensive as a wedding!
After all, the suppliers and locations are usually the same. In a way, blowing candles on birthdays is a rite of passage, but this just marks the completion of a year. A debut is the clear transition from child to adult.
But even when we agree that 18 is technically a legal adult, older adults know that it is still too young to start engaging in “adult things.” I cannot think of an equivalent of a debut for boys, even when they turn 21, but I do think of tuli (circumcision) as a rite of passage.
When I was much younger, there was a stigma attached to the uncircumcised (supot), implying that they are ignorant about the ways of the world because of their rawness. Being supot is like being an unripe fruit that still has its covering (“supot” is also the term for a plastic bag). But if we think about the mental, physical, and social development of children, the age of circumcision is too young to actually call them a “man,” and yet, older men will say, “Lalaki ka na!”
Markers of maturity
Apart from these two, most Filipinos might consider graduating a rite of passage, whether that is from senior high school or from college. This is probably because we still hold the idea that education is the key to a good life, and most jobs (even those that do not need the complexity of a college degree) still expect applicants to have graduated from college.
After college, the emerging adult begins to navigate the “real world” by joining the workforce and becoming serious tax-paying members of society.
And yet, writing this as a 30-year-old, I still feel like I did not get a true rite of passage. I was too young to find any meaning in tuli or the Rite of Confirmation, and, as a man, I did not get a debut.
Yes, I graduated from university, and I eventually graduated again after completing my master’s degree. But these are just completions of programs, not necessarily markers of maturity. I had to develop in my own way as I navigated the very strange adult world—what we call “adulting,” which sounds like something you are trying to do, not necessarily something you are doing well.
Maybe this is why so many adults are still “isip bata,” and why many men still carry a very childish, “toxic” masculinity. We need serious rituals—events that really mark a level of maturity and allow people to be functioning, responsible members of a larger society.
For now, most of what we have is very kaniya-kaniya. There are barely any more masters to learn from or meaningful guidebooks that can help us survive and thrive. We need better parental figures—or, since we are the new adults, we must take it upon ourselves to be the adults that would have really helped our younger selves.
One becomes a full-fledged grown-up only after a parent dies. This happens no matter how old we already are when one of our parents passes on to the afterlife. Gone are the unrestrained counsel dispensed as reprimands by an ascendant who pays no heed to a descendant’s title, power, or possessions. Gone is the fallback for shelter, money, and advice, when turbulent storms upend our lives. Gone is one of our most ardent fans, who feels most proud during milestones in our lives.
For as long as our forebears are alive, we will always be children in their eyes. We will forever feel like kids in their presence. There may still be a remaining parent who survives in our midst, but without the other, the four-legged chair that has provided support and comfort in our lives would precariously stand on two legs.
My father breathed his last at the ripe age of 87 on Nov. 20. He left behind my 84-year-old mother, his five children, four children-in-law, and 11 grandchildren.
Our father put into practice his agriculture degree by cultivating our modest farm. Our mother served as a public school teacher at the local elementary school that her children attended. Despite our parents’ diligence and industry, they struggled to provide for our needs as a family. As children, we didn’t have the luxuries enjoyed by many of our cousins. Instead, my two brothers and I were exposed to the sun and the elements when we helped our father and our grandfather with farm chores, while our two sisters assisted our mother at home. As the eldest, I personally experienced the kind of hard labor required in the planting, harvesting, and drying of rice and corn. Looking back, the difficulties our father exposed us to have equipped us with grit and determination, which have proved to be the most valuable of all the lessons we gained in life.
Our father did not allow adversities to hinder our dreams. He moved heaven and earth to make us attain our professional aspirations and, in the process, he equipped us with wings to overcome adversities. He tapped the support of sympathetic relatives, he engaged in supplemental means to augment family income, used scholarships, and eventually produced a brood of two lawyers, one doctor, and two nurses, who are now based in America.
Beyond the bits and pieces of him that survive through us, his descendants, what else remains of our father that transcends his death? We have inherited the wealth of friends he accumulated throughout his life. Many of his friends remind us that he was the friendliest person they had met in their lives. They don’t exaggerate. In public transport rides, our father would initiate chats with complete strangers who unsuspectingly sat beside him. Before they reached their destination, our father would have probed his seatmate’s genealogy, would have found out about their problems, would have offered solutions to their tribulations, and would have extracted a commitment for an exchange of visits to their respective homes as if they had been longtime friends.
Another of our father’s traits imprinted in his friends’ minds is his ability to crack jokes and narrate funny stories even under the most serious circumstances. A few days before he died, our father’s worried caregiver started to stroke his forehead when he developed difficulty breathing. My father motioned for his caregiver to come closer and then whispered, “Be careful, my wife gets easily jealous.”
Our father had a huge zest for travel. When he was in his 70s and already using a cane to walk, he suddenly had an urge to visit his friend in Batanes, whom he had last seen in college. He packed a few clothes and boarded one of the small planes that transport passengers between Cagayan and Batanes, refusing to be accompanied. Upon reaching Batanes, his friend’s daughter informed him that her father had already died 15 years earlier. But because he regaled his friend’s family with so many stories about their patriarch, my father was invited to stay, and he was even given a guided tour of the island for several days, all for free.
One time, my father saw a group of World War II veterans preparing to travel to Leyte, where they were to take part in the commemoration of the “Leyte Landing” of liberation forces. With his prematurely white hair and mischief in his mind, he mingled with the veterans and donned a veteran’s vest being distributed to everyone. He managed to board the military cargo plane that transported the veterans to Tacloban City, took part in the celebration, and marched with the veterans, without anyone finding out that he was only 3 years old when the war broke out in our islands.
Farewell, Papa. When I hear thunder in the sky, I will imagine angels laughing hysterically at one of your funny stories.
