http://www.sinigang.libsyn.com/

Some Filipino Americans might be intereted in this. It gives me a better understanding on the mindset of Filipinos Americans. If you have time to kill, check it out.

[img width=440 height=292]http://media.hamptonroads.com/images/news/filipinopodcastbig.jpg[/img]
VIRGINIA BEACH — Elbert Porteria fiddles with radio equipment on a living room table, ignoring the box of Krispy Kreme donuts and a TV silently flickering in the background.

After a quick sound check, he tries to come up with a Filipino topic.

“Fantasy football,” Gerry Reyes offers.

Nestor Lunasin winces. “I’d rather not.”

“Timber sports,” Michael Jose suggests.

The four friends then launch into a five-minute discussion about a lumberjack competition being held that day at the Oceanfront.

Joking about the lack of Filipinos, Jose urges them to enter the contest. “Filipinos rise up! I challenge one of you guys to become the next lumberjack out there.”

The members of the Sini-Gang, as they call their group, offer the latest gossip about Filipino-American celebrities and a smattering of Filipino politics in radiolike dispatches posted on the Internet.

Recording from Lunasin’s living room, they touch on the political intrigue surrounding the president of the Philippines or highlight a word of the week in Tagalog, the nation’s native tongue. (Last week’s word: “ganda,” which means pretty.)

But mostly they revert to sarcastic riffs on their own experiences as a bunch of 30-something Filipino Americans living in a Virginia resort city. Their group name is a play on the Tagalog word for a popular sour stew.

“If we can’t think of anything to say, we’ll just begin rambling,” Reyes said.

By hooking up traditional radio equipment to their computers, they’re able to post shows, or “podcasts,” on their Web site within minutes. Subscribers’ computers then automatically download their shows weekly.

Steve Jobs, co-founder of Apple Computer, dubbed podcasting “Ti-Vo” or “Wayne’s World for radio.”

“It’s the equivalent of cable access way back when,” Lunasin said. “Anyone with a computer, a microphone and Internet access can do it.”

Porteria, a computer operator for Old Dominion University, came up with the idea for the show seven months ago.

At that point, a handful of podcasts dedicated to Filipino news and culture had already popped up on the Internet, but Porteria didn’t find one dedicated to Filipino-American life.

Porteria and Jose had some experience as radio personalities on a Filipino-American show that aired on a local AM station, but after six months, the show was taken off the air. “We couldn’t get any advertising,” Porteria said, but he continued to see Virginia Beach as a market for a Filipino-American talk show.

About 15,000 Filipinos live in Virginia Beach – roughly 3 percent of the city’s population. Hampton Roads has the fourth-largest concentration of Filipinos in America outside Hawaii and California. Only New York City, Chicago, and Seattle have larger communities.

“Being Filipino, it’s natural for us to want to talk about Filipino issues,” Lunasin said, “but there’s not much out there directed at Filipinos. More often than not, we’re not even mentioned on TV or in magazines.”

The group immediately saw the potential of podcasting.

“We talk all the time,” Lunasin said. “Why not record it on the Internet?”

Now that they’re online, the group doesn’t have to worry about advertising revenue, ratings or censorship. They also can hit the delete button.

“Every now and then, I’ll say, 'Maybe we shouldn’t have said that,’ and I’ll edit it out,” said Porteria, who often takes on the role of producer, “but usually I’m pretty liberal.”

They’re adamant about recording every week. One show was recorded at 2 a.m., even though Lunasin was sick.

“The show was terrible, but I wanted something to put out, and that’s all we had,” Porteria said.

Setting up their equipment in front of two couches, they broadcast from Lunasin’s living room – a setting he describes as “one step above a bachelor pad.”

Lunasin’s three hamsters scurry through a gigantic cage. A retrospective of classic American movies hangs next to traditional Filipino masks and a poster of “The Fighting Filipinos,” soldiers who fought alongside Americans during World War II.

Sometimes, a group of friends drops by with beer and becomes an impromptu audience. One week Porteria pulled out a questionnaire for an Internet networking service to get the conversation going.

“Do you guys fear anything?” he asked.

“Public speaking,” Lunasin responded.

“You don’t think this is public enough?” Porteria asked.

Jose said podcasting didn’t seem like a public forum. “I feel that it’s just me listening to me.”

Stage names help them shed their self-consciousness.

Lunasin, 32, is Sterno – an anagram of his first name – Supernova. Porteria, 30, is L Boogy, because “it sounded funny.” It also happens to be a nickname of several rap artists.

Reyes, 30, the group’s straight man, is Pinoy Playboy, a jab at his less-than-suave manner. Jose, 32, is Gamma Ray, a reference to the Incredible Hulk, one of his favorite comic book characters. At one point, Rachel, his wife, came on the show as “Candy.”

“I want people to feel like they’re sitting in on a discussion among friends,” Lunasin said. “Something not too heavy, not too light – just something they can listen to and feel comfortable.”

The group had another motive for hiding their real names: They didn’t want their families or co-workers to find out. Like Porteria, Reyes works for ODU as a computer systems analyst, Lunasin is a Web designer and Jose is an express mail delivery driver.

After a reporter called to interview them, they decided to reveal their identities.

“When we started, we didn’t know what we were doing,” Lunasin said. “We wanted to have something more polished before anyone we knew started listening.”

Lunasin’s parents still don’t know exactly what he is doing. “They know I have a microphone, but they don’t know why. 'Mom, I’m not into karaoke.’”

Lunasin said the generation gap probably would make it hard for his parents to understand the show’s appeal. “Even though they’ve been here for years, Filipino culture is still ingrained into their psyche.”

One of the group’s main goals is to highlight second-generation success stories.

At some point, they hope to interview producer Chad Hugo of The Neptunes and Ron Villanueva, the city’s first Filipino-American City Council member. They also plan to promote lesser-known musicians and community activists in the city.

“Our parents’ generation did a lot to give us opportunity to make sure we could succeed in this country,” Porteria said. “Now, second-generation Filipinos are growing up and starting to open their own businesses and making their mark.”

The Sini-Gang isn’t famous yet, not even in their hometown. But they do have a following. Between 500 and 1,000 people regularly download their podcast every week, with about 30 new listeners signing on each week.

“We’ve had a couple of e-mails from people saying, 'You guys are boring,’” Porteria said, “but we also get a lot of good e-mails.”

Some listeners download from larger Filipino-American communities in California and Illinois. “We’ve had some comments about our Southern twang,” Lunasin said.

Others tune in from as far away as Singapore and, of course, the Philippines.

Recently, a group of Filipinos living in England asked for tips on how to start their own podcast.

Although many podcasts come and go, the Sini-Gang insists it will stick around. The group wants to reach a larger audience, and new listeners don’t have to be Filipino.

“We’re just putting ourselves out there,” Porteria said, “and if someone likes it, we’re happy to have them listen.”

Reach Marisa Taylor at (757) 222-5108 or marisa.taylor@pilotonline. com.