When work becomes play: The Dream Job issue

MANILA, Philippines - There was a time when “success” for a young adult meant three things: a robust salary, an apartment in the weekend market-friendly places of Makati, and the opportunity for career advancement. In 2013, things are a little different.

More and more, we’re seeing 20-somethings ditch the usual career tracks and go after their dream jobs, setting up their own companies, going freelance, or simply going for a job that breaks out of the cubicle.  Family business? Corporate security? Cubicles? No, thanks.

Times are changing and while financial security is important, more and more kids are finding that happiness should also be a vital element in the equation for “success.

Why be a corporate drone when you can be king of your own castle? Why slave away for The Man when you can help yourself? This week, Young STAR rounds up 11 professionals who are living the dream and asked them how they got there.

 

Dream job #1: Being a TV host/reporter

Atom Araullo, broadcast journalist for ABS-CBN

 

When I was young, I wanted to be an astronaut or a swashbuckling buccaneer,” Atom Araullo quips. “Doing TV seemed like a good compromise.”

It seemed like he made the compromise early enough, as one of the precocious child-reporters on the ‘90s hit 5 and Up. But if you hear Atom tell it, he found himself in journalism and back on TV the same way most people stumble upon their vocations—it was simply where his passions lay. “I guess… [in journalism, there is] the opportunity to develop a deep understanding of society and the forces that bring us together and tear us apart,” he explains. “I like the fact that I know what’s going on almost all of the time, and I can talk to other people about it.”

It wasn’t simply an extension of his early career. Atom explains that he had to work his way from the bottom, the way any fresh grad out of college would. “My early experience in television opened up opportunities later in life for sure, but I also had to start from the bottom, which I believe is the only way to go. I was a researcher, then a writer for the documentary show The Correspondents before eventually becoming a field reporter,” he says.

“All of this was not planned. I would be equally happy to end up as a scientist or a rock star—the latter being more unlikely. The point is, life oftentimes steers us in unexpected directions. What’s important is never shrinking from a challenge and seizing opportunities as they come.”

Of course, journalism—especially hard news—is never easy. It demands a lot of your time, you never get enough rest, and when shit hits the fan, the repercussions sometimes come in the form of lawsuits.

“There’s a very persistent tendency to think of broadcast journalism as a glamorous profession. Some people think that we’re always jetting off to exotic locations, rubbing elbows with the celebrated and the infamous, walking around with perfectly coiffed hair while the world is falling to ruin,” he laments.

“Part of it is the magic and mysticism of TV. Another factor perhaps is our own vanity that gets projected to millions of homes everyday. But journalism, at least the good kind, is hard work. It is tedious and boring 99 percent of time before it becomes fresh and exciting.”

The best part? “Journalists have some of the most awesome experiences, stories,” he says, “and chismis.”

—Raymond Ang

 

Dream job #2: The license to shoot Shaira Luna, freelance photographer

You might remember her from her child days as a ‘90s Promil kid and the news she made when she entered college at the age of 13, but Shaira Luna is currently making waves as something else: a full-time photographer.

Shooting professionally for almost seven years now, Shaira is self-taught and started out shooting everything—literally.  “I wasn’t picky about shoots, and very early on I was tasked by a painter to test shoot a nude model in their studio,” remembers Shaira, “I was dyahe (embarrassed) at first, but I tried to be careful with my choice of words and directions to not make her feel too self-conscious.” Not long after, another painter commissioned her to photograph a number of people in the nude as well, to avoid having them pose for hours on end. “You quickly learn to be comfortable and strike up an easygoing conversation with the nude model,” realizes the lenswoman, “I still shoot most of her portraits to this day.”

It’s an interesting irony that despite being the shy and hesitant type, Shaira started out as such and continues to stretch her skills and expand her portfolio. “Try everything once and don’t be a snob,” emphasizes Shaira, “I started out shooting bands to children’s parties and even cellular towers for brochures. Even without intending to, you get a lot of contacts this way, and sometimes the people you least expect to call will hire you for a job all of a sudden. Take opportunities to practice and experiment, and start filling your bag of tricks. Just keep shooting and eventually you’ll discover your style and what you really like.”

It also helps to know why you shoot. “I love planning surprises and making people laugh and think,” admits Luna, “Photography lets me provide this sort of entertainment while allowing me to explore and share a world of artistic possibilities without uttering a word. I love that my work gets challenging but never boring.”

Upgrading your skills takes initiative as well. “Observe the images around you, and look at the work of other photographers beyond your comfort zone and style,” she advises, “Practice replicating the lighting, feel, or mood of different images and work from pegs or inspiration boards, especially if you plan to work in publishing or advertising.” Today, Shaira shoots covers for magazines as varied as Mega and Breakfast.

In the end, Shaira is all about the small things. “One thing that really helps, especially when you deal with different types of people on a daily basis, is a sense of humor,” she notices. But the bottom line, she realizes, is to always be prepared and never be a jerk to work with. “Eat your vegetables, too, because you’ll need all the energy you can get,” she says, laughing.

—Ralph Mendoza

 

 

Dream job #3: Partying for a living

Pam Solilapsi, events manager, Republiq, Opus, and Café Republiq; partner, Aracama

 

If the early bird gets the worm, then Republiq events manager Pam Solilapsi is this saying’s biggest exception. Imagine this: her work call for her to immerse herself in Manila’s effervescent night scene, making the rounds of several bars a night for parties, industry shindigs, and corporate events, as well as being the youngest and only female partner in Aracama, a high-end Filipino restaurant along the Fort Strip that caters to the swingin’ and pre-gaming jeunesse dorée. And yet, she is required to wake up early the next day to make client calls with the rest of her team. Tim Yap, one of her mentors in the biz, calls it “eventology.” Pam sees it as a way of life.

“It started in college,” she recalls. “I joined this org, the Ateneo Junior Marketing Association. They got me to do some events and then eventually recruited me after I did Shindig (the org’s annual rager).” It was on her third year that she was elected vice president of the org, and soon after, a job opening at Encore, then Manila’s foremost superclub that preceded Aracama in the Fort Strip back in the day, would lead her to the likes of Erik Cua and Chef Fern, Aracama’s namesake (Pam’s sometime boss, nowadays partner).

“It’s easy in terms of the rewards,” Pam says about her job. “It’s so results-driven.” Since it’s an event, she says, you see it grow and happen real-time. “When the clients are happy, and people are having fun, that’s really rewarding.” The hard part is waking up earlier than usual, especially for someone who is on a perpetual graveyard shift because of the nightly events. “We do sales calls at around 11a.m. to sell all the establishments for booking of private events and launches. We do meetings after lunch, pre-prods, logistics, oculars, food tastings, and send out all these emails and paperwork. Then briefing happens at around 8 p.m. since the club opens at 10. Then we do it all over again the next day.” It’s quite the operation – proof that while seemingly glamorous, working in events is no easy task.

On the kind of person who should be dabbling in this field, Pam says that he or she should be one who is resourceful, objective and patient. “In events, anything can happen. There can be a brownout, typhoon, or a missing talent. You have to have Plan A to Z in events. Work with what you have, and just make it happen.”

—Toff De Venecia

 

Dream job #4: Making films

Gino M. Santos, director of Cinemalaya-nominated film  The Animals and The Tim Yap Show

Young director Gino M. Santos does what he does because work feels more like play to him.

“The set is my playground,” he confesses, “I love being on set and being hands-on during the shoot. I love watching the monitor and seeing the actors transform into different characters, cheating locations and sets with the use of different camera angles or production design, telling stories through both a visual and aural medium—basically everything about life on set.”

As easy as it seems to love this and that, to geek out on movies, TV shows, or just consume art in general, learning and honing the actual craft takes devotion, the type that only you can tell yourself to have.

“Learn the craft, find your niche, and create your own identity, while not being afraid to venture into different genres,” adds the filmmaker, “Build your reel. Practice, practice, practice. Shoot anything. Make short films and experiment with different shots, new stories, and play around in editing.”

Taking risks is also the name of the game. “Send your works to competitions and just keep going, win or lose—anything to get your name out there,” he stresses, “The reason I was able to make my first feature (The Animals) at such a young age was by taking a chance and submitting something.”

Now Santos might have studied the craft all over, from Benilde to New York, but foresight was an intangible he learned along the way. “In shoots, you need to believe in Murphy’s law and be ready if something goes wrong,” advises the director, “Always account for variable change. You have to have a plan B to Z just in case.”

When it comes to controlling his cast and crew, Santos also likens his job to that of a ship’s captain. “But you don’t want to be too controlling because as much as possible you want a positive vibe on set,” warns Santos, “You have to play good cop, bad cop sometimes.”

“You need to be good with time management, since time is money on set,” adds the director, “You should be able to juggle and finish the sequences due for the day, and willing to stay up long hours while keeping a clear mind and a keen eye for detail.”

But don’t forget to go out there and be sociable and open to conversations, counters Santos, who knows just when to lighten up. “Attend parties and festivals. Have fun.”

—Ralph Mendoza

 

 

Dream job #5: Playing with food

Mylene Chung, food photographer and stylist, Pepper.ph; partner,  Wrong Ramen

They say there’s no ‘I’ in team. But for food photographer and stylist Mylene “Mye” Chung of Pepper.ph, it takes a certain eye, not ‘I,’ to travel and assemble a team of “hungry” creatives who are working to curate a blog that is putting most press release-centric, after-thought online outfits to shame. Ever heard of Pepper.ph’s infamous food hacks (Pancake House spaghetti, In n’ Out Burger’s Animal-style fries to name a few)? How about that each entry is accompanied with stunning visuals shot at Mylene’s zen-like studio? Throw in some Rob Cham illustrations and bite-sized humor in the mix and you have yourself a recipe for success, pun intended.

She talks about how she discovered the art of food styling and photography. “When I began shooting food,” she says, “nobody knew that photographers could actually specialize in a certain field.” When someone talks photography, they immediately think fashion, products, or portraiture. “I had to introduce that concept to some of my clients – that I shoot food alone. I don’t do people, or landscapes. I have a lot of customized props and surfaces (she even bought food-like furnishings from Japan to enhance the environment of each layout, and save on costs). That’s why I’m different from the rest.”

In doing so, she is able to charge a premium for her product – reason being that the output is a lot different from the rest; more visually stimulating in the style of Jamie Oliver’s Jamie Magazine. She says that if you have an eye for color, if you love playing with props, and mixing and matching them together to achieve the right composition, then food photography might be for you.

She concedes though that at the end of the day, it’s not about just having an eye. It is also that really, there’s no ‘I’ in team. “Back when I started my first food blog, I couldn’t be consistent. I’m not a blogging type of person. I don’t write well. But Dwight (Co) my partner and boyfriend does. He was the one who pushed the food blogging forward.” It was there that the collaboration began, leading up to Pepper.ph and the three of them, including their Pepper.ph co-founder Katherine Jao, opening Wrong Ramen in Burgos Circle earlier this year. Her advice? If you have weaknesses, try to team up with other people. “Other people will help your work shine.”

—Toff De Venecia

 

 

Dream job #6: Playing music for a living Diego Castillo, guitarist, Sandwich; half of DJ duo The Diegos

Surprisingly, Diego Castillo can’t recall a hard time he’s had through the years as a music man. “When I started, all I really wanted to do was play Club Dredd and Mayric’s,” reminisces Castillo, whose first real musical experience was in The Aga Muhlach Experience in ’95. “I didn’t have any lofty goals. We just played because we loved it.”

With several albums and hundreds of gigs under his belt, Castillo has reached a state most musicians aspire their hardest to attain. “I don’t want to put any undue pressure on anybody in terms of success. It’s personal,” says Diego, “But if you’re creating your craft purely so that you can go global, then your motives are wack! Patay ka na. ‘Cause you’re thinking of something else altogether as opposed to making yourself happy.”

In terms of craft, Diego says parity has always been the enemy. “When I was growing up, everyone listened to grunge so every other band you played with sounded the same,” he remembers, “If you listen to a little bit of hip-hop or anything and you try to inject that sound with yours, chances are you’ll come up with something that will set you apart.”

One must also make a serious effort to source out music. “The more eclectic your taste is, the better you are going to be as a musician,” stresses Castillo, whose collection spans new wave to newer wave, from Hall & Oates to LCD Soundsystem, to local disco records from the ‘70s. “Even if you’re a singer, you can still pick up different elements or melodies from Coltrane — the way the sax goes up and down, anything. I think this holds true for any form of art. The more exposed you are to all sorts of stuff, the better it is for you.”

Another trick for bands is to get their indie game going. “When (our old label) dropped Sandwich because they didn’t think our songs were sellable, we went independent,” narrates the vet. “We made the record with our own money from the ground up. It was a fun thing to do. We could open an album with a seven-minute instrumental, whatever we wanted.”

To make it as a musician, the industry needs to make it as well. And homegrown talent, according to Castillo, is in its prime. “Do you not think the scene here is better than anywhere in Asia?” he asks, “‘Di ba? I mean, holy sh*t, you got Jorge (of Similar Objects), Spazzkid, and all these great acts. Somebody should press their records, market them, and get them on a tour—but not just in Manila. Go to Cebu, Davao, and explore.”

— Ralph Mendoza

 

Dream job #7: Not being starving artists Ryan and Garovs Vergara, photographers and graphic designers, Everywhere We Shoot

It’s not “Everywhere We Shoot” for nothing. Because of the strong body of work that the husband and wife team of Ryan and Garovs Vergara have created for themselves and their prestigious roster of clients since graduating from college, the creative moniker has become somewhat ubiquitous, earning them nods from the publishing and advertising industry all over, through their flair for photography, fashion, and graphic design — characterized as one part fancy, two parts quirk, and three parts irony laced with a bit humor. “Before pa nag-start yung Everywere We Shoot, we do graphic design na talaga,” relates Ryan, who first met Garovs at the De La Salle — College of St. Benilde. “Parang nag-meet lang talaga yung mga course namin.” Ryan was honing his talents then in Multimedia Arts while Garovs was learning the ins and outs of Fashion Design and Merchandising.

Their fast-food runs and creative liaisons would lead to a lasting partnership, culminating in last year’s “Everywhere We Wed” where the couple finally tied the knot, and then their first solo show, “Foods,” at the Pablo Gallery at Bonifacio High Street last April. It sure helps that in each other, they’ve found a partner in crime — like the local art scene’s Bonnie and Clyde. But the couple’s easy visual rapport, according to Ryan, does not always translate into the ease by which they synergize with most of their clients.

“It’s easy pag gusto mo yung ginagawa mo,” he shares, “’di mo na iniisip yung binabayad sa ‘yo ng cliente.” On the flipside of working in a service-oriented industry like graphic design, however, you encounter clients who try to impress what they want on you without giving you room for artistic license or creativity. “We started in 2005. And siguro for three years, nahirapan kami. We wanted na ideas namin ang masusunod” — how Everywhere We Shoot, like most young creatives these days, ought to be “Everything We Want.” But with experience and maturity came the duo’s willingness to dialogue and compromise to keep the clients happy. “Ngayon, sanay na kaming i-balance kung ano yung gusto ng client at yung gusto namin.”

On other challenges of the job, Ryan relates, “Of course, you want fixed hours. Pero minsan, nagugulo ‘cause we have a shoot, or may meeting.” Their day usually begins at 1 p.m. and ends at around eight or nine. “Mahirap kasi walang nagagalit na boss. Kelangan lang talaga, ma-disiplina mo yung sarili mo.”

For the duo, it feels like every year is a milestone. But with this comes the feeling that they haven’t achieved anything at all. “Parang every year, dapat paganda nang paganda yung gawa mo. Hindi mo dapat iniisip na nandun ka na.” Certainly, Everywhere We Shoot is a work in progress.

— Toff De Venecia

 

 

Dream job #8: Owning your own production company Anton Angeles, co-founder and executive producer of Go Motion Productions

At 18, some girls get debuts, some guys get cars. At that age, Anton Angeles set up a production house with his brother and opened for business.

“My brother and I honestly just wanted to find a way to earn a little money for ourselves, so we offered our services to family, friends, and a couple of professors in school,” he says. “We produced photos, brochures, websites, posters, PowerPoint presentations, videos — we were throwing ourselves out there at anything that required a camera and a computer.”

Early on, they would borrow equipment from their school, under the guise that they were using them for class projects. “After a couple of months doing that, our projects slowly escalated, and we’re lucky that they haven’t stopped going up since.”

Running a business is never easy and when you’re your own boss, at a young age, all the more so. While not having anyone to report to sounds pretty good for any fresh grad, Anton explains that it only means you have to be more responsible.

“I’m the executive producer of Go Motion Productions; I produce, I shoot, I edit. It’s a number of hats for just one position. We’re a small company with big work, which means we take on a bulk of duties that sometimes fall outside the line of our initial functions,” he explains.

“Had we all pursued work in bigger production houses, we might not have realized the depth of each role. Working the way I do sometimes means having to work 20 hours a day or spending more than a week away from my bed, juggling three different tasks at once, but it’s something I sincerely love and enjoy doing.”

At the ripe old age of 23, Anton and Go Motion are only getting started. “At the start of the year we started handling projects for large ad agencies, clients, and producers with above-the-line teams and budgets. It’s a big step from what we used to do a while back,” he says. “This job requires you to be available at any time of the day, any day of the week. I don’t think I even recall the last time I’ve slept before midnight. But I don’t mind.”        — Raymond Ang

 

Dream job #9: Be the boy on billboards Benjamin Alves, actor, host, model, and endorser

It’s not his most convincing moment but 24-year-old Benjamin Alves is trying to tell me that he’s shy — this from a guy who’s walked runways in briefs.

“It’s an act!” he protests. “Dude, me onstage is different from me right before I go onstage (at a Bench Underwear Show). It’s so different… But that’s where the acting comes in and that’s why I love it.”

Benjamin Alves moved to Guam from the Philippines when he was 6. “That time was the whole revolution of having TFC,” he says. “I was never far away from watching the shows here. I grew up watching Rico Yan, Juday (Santos), and all that stuff.” And it was there in front of the blue TV screen light that Benjamin first caught the acting bug.

“I always had a bit of resentment with my parents because every time we’d come back, there were referrals and people asking me to come in for stuff and I could never go,” he says. “Every time anything would happen, I’d have to go back to Guam.”

“I did come back here after high school to get into showbiz,” he continues, “but then I guess it wasn’t the right timing. I was getting jobs here and there but as far as stability, it was just enough to keep your neck afloat. I was always scared about security. What would happen when I have a family? Not having that security scared me so I went back to school.”

But despite him excelling in school (he eventually finished summa cum laude), he found the what-ifs too damning. “There was a point I couldn’t watch TFC or even GMA Pinoy TV just because I really wanted it. It was tough because I had to concentrate on school and I was just thinking, ‘What am I doing here?’”

It’s ironic then that the same boy who spent most of his time reading and writing, the same boy who was too shy to try out for school plays, is also the same guy who’s so willing to expose himself, emotionally, in his acting.

“That’s who I was. I always read and I wrote poems and stories. That’s why I took up English Lit… I was supposed to become a professor, a teacher. I still want to do it,” he grins, “but maybe when I’m 50.”

“Some people would say that (going for your dream job)is immature. The mature thing would be, you know, ‘That’s uncertain, man. You should go and do this clean-cut job and set yourself up for a family.’ I don’t want to do that, man. I mean, yeah, the parts all fit, the gears will start rolling and it’ll be great. That’s what you should do so you fit the mold that you’re supposed to be fitting into. But why? If you know what you want, go for it.”

“Those three years, I was just trying to figure out how I’m gonna do this. I finally surrendered from 2010 to 2011 and somebody up there must like me because when things started steamrolling, it just snowballed from blessing to blessing.”

Today, he’s an in-demand actor on GMA-7 and a high-profile endorser for brands like Bench. But the road to stardom was anything but smooth for him. It took a lot of patience, a lot of luck, and good timing. “There’s no cookie-cutter template, you know? Everyone has a journey.”      — Raymond Ang

 

Dream job #10: Working in fashion Martin Yambao, brand manager and creative assistant,

House of Laurel

Growing up, I had a deep, deep fascination for Cirque du Soleil. I wanted to be an artist in one of their traveling shows… I was that kid.”

24-year-old Martin Yambao didn’t grow up to become a contortionist. But the job he ended up in sure has some similarities with a Cirque show — at least in terms of razzle-dazzle and, sometimes, sequins.

“Cirque du Soleil transformed the traditional circus by giving a higher emphasis to staging, costuming, makeup, music and narrative. It’s the spectacular come to life. Growing up with all that stuff enabled me to see beyond traditional careers,” he explains. “And what is fashion if not spectacle?”

Of course, a job in fashion is not always the secure, 9-to-5 job most parents envision for their kid. And the way Martin got it, was even more unconventional. One day, designer Rajo Laurel simply tweeted that his brand had an opening. Martin applied over Twitter, came in for an interview, and got the job. “Very Person 2.0,” Martin quips.

While he comes from a family with a history in the clothing industry (he learned how to sew from his grandmother; “I still think that she’s rooting for me”), he says that working under one of local fashion’s biggest names has been nothing if not educational. “I feel very lucky to have Rajo as a guide and mentor,” he says. “I think he’s on top of his game but I don’t think he’s reached his Everest yet.

“The best thing about my job is that I’m given so many opportunities to learn and to absorb. In every little moment we spend in either fittings or design discussions, I learn something new… (Everything) from how to finish and treat a specific fabric to how you fit a belt on a woman’s body, depending on her shape,” he says, laughing. “Things you need for everyday life!

“The greatest misconception about my job is that it’s a non-stop slew of glamorous gowns for glamorous celebrities attending glamorous events,” he says.

“A big part of my job is producing and fitting the prototypes. In what we typically call a prototype viewing, I bring out all the samples in cheap muslin fabric to assess the fit and the drape. We do this for all pieces we deliver to the store.

“What people don’t realize is that the job is actually a lot of work sitting down at a computer, mapping out production and marketing schedules, coordinating model fittings and shoots, reviewing fashion requests — not a whole lot of glam, really.”

— Raymond Ang

 

Dream job #11: Trucking for food Ramy de Claro, marketing director, and

Paolo Layug, finance director, Shawarma Bros

High school consists of some of the best days of a person’s life, and the bros from top-selling food truck Shawarma Bros are testament to that. For Ramy de Claro and Paolo Layug, marketing and finance director for the outfit respectively, it was a brotherhood that started in their teenage days in the Ateneo de Manila and sealed, not with a blood ritual, but a business where “friendship always comes first.”

“It was Paolo who brought it up,” shares Ramy, who, like the rest of the team, is working a nine-to-five job and is also working for his family business. “He introduced us to food trucks since he’s from the States. It’s really big there.” That they were going to be one of the first movers of the relatively new food phenomenon here in Manila, an important consideration to any business, Ramy says that it gave them the fighting chance for their business to succeed. “The fact you’re selling in a food truck means you can up the selling price. For one, it’s the novelty of selling in a food truck. People are more forgiving when there’s a new concept,” as opposed to having a restaurant — a frontier that is not within their business horizon.

Ramy calls it the theory of the purple cow. “In all businesses, it only takes one product. Imagine yourself driving in a field, and you see a purple cow, ultimately you will stop your car and go to it. The thing is, competitors will try to match your purple-ness so you have to work to deepen the purple, and try to be a game changer.”

Unique as the product has to be, he says that what’s different about the food truck industry is that while there is room for healthy competition, ultimately it’s a strength in numbers game, and food trucks need to band together to yield mutually beneficial maximum result. “This is a new thing,” Ramy shares. “We don’t really know how to sell it here. We’re helping each other out.” In the States, you can park anywhere and start selling. “Here, it’s different because each city requires you to have a business permit, and that’s an annual assessment.” Which is why Wednesdays and Thursdays for Ramy consists of meeting with the food truck association to discuss strategies on how to achieve day-to-day operations. “Ultimately, we want for local government units not to assess us yearly, maybe pay a one-time fee for all LGUs.”  

His advice to aspiring entrepreneurs? “Start early!” He says, “When you’re planning for your very own business, it’s less tiring than when you’re working for somebody else. No matter how hard you work, you don’t feel the return.” With your own business, however, you work harder and you see the results. “For us, it’s a dream come true. Not just financially but we’re getting to be known as young entrepreneurs.”

—Toff De Venecia