turo ni tito

Not All That Glitters Is Gold

2011-12-03T20:27:00.005+08:00

I am always skeptical about a country that is all glitter and glow. I know that it is meant to mesmerize you with its glitz and glamour, lure you until it sucked you dry. Just the same, when we got out of the airport and I saw the splendor of the hotels along the Macau International Airport, I cannot help but be in awe and remain breathless for several minutes. I was watching my companions composed of my wife, our two daughters and their cousins, my wife’s sister and her balikbayan friend and could not help admire my children’s nonchalant of the sparkling landscape considering that we were all first timers. This made me think I am old and ancient - like I did not belong to this generation.

With maps we got from the counter in our hands, we got busy trying to figure out our bearings as if in a competition who would find it first. We had no luck trying to find the location of our hotel until it was one of our nieces who figured out that we were looking at the wrong map. One page was for Taipa where we were at the time and another big one for Macau where the hotel actually was. Having seen where to go, we hailed a cab, with the help of a Filipina working at the airport and headed for Hotel Royal.

We arrived at the hotel around 10:30 pm and had dinner of freshly cooked rice (we brought a rice cooker... shhhh) and a bevy of the never-miss, reliable adobo and tapa. Afterwhich, we went out of the hotel and took a 10-minute stroll of Macau. Our feet took us to the elegant Grand Lisboa Hotel. Once inside the hotel, I couldn't help but notice two tall ladies with plunging necklines with their boobs almost jutting out and heard my sister-in-law muttering "Russians". I thought that couldn't be as I have seen the likes before. They were more like Asians trying to look the mestiza type. I found several more and when I heard one of them talk. confirmed my hunch. They were Filipino transvestites plying their trade (whatever it is) in the hotel's casino. Since I was already there, I tried my luck at the machines and lost about HK$10. I collected the money and gave the remainder to my eldest daughter while I transferred to another machine. This time, I was lucky. I won HK$200. Noticing that my sister in law's friend was not playing, I told them to go back to the hotel and hit the sack.

The following day, we went to tour the place. We walked a narrow lane that was almost European in its appearance. Our first stop was the ruins of St. Paul It's one of the main tourist attractions of the place as one can trace the Portuguese influence. We took pictures and headed down the steps to walk the long stretch of food stalls where each stall gave out free samples of their goodies like the pork fillets and biscuits. My sister-in-law took us to a food stall that sold a variety of balls and innards that were cooked a la shabu shabu style, soaked in a thick sauce of curry and other hot stuff. That was sufficient for our lunch. Too bad that we did not bring along rice. From there, we took a bus ride going to Taipa where the grand hotels were like the famous Venetian, a replica of the Venetian Hotel in Las Vegas and the new Galaxy Hotel are among others. Our first stop was the City of Dreams, a podium like structure with four towers comprising Hard Rock, Crown and the Grand Hyatt Hotels. It had a huge casino but I managed to keep my small winnings in tow as I have strained myself from playing the machines. Instead, we lined up to watch the "Bubble Show", a spectacular light and sound production on a 360 degree dome screen about four powerful dragons enjoying tremendous power while holding the Jade Emperor's ball. It also had at its center a huge opening that emitted a nicely patterned water sculpture raining down on the floor and four minor openings that showed giant jellyfish-like structures of light. The show is reputed to be a billion dollar production.

We next went to the Venetian and took a stroll on what seemed like Venice with its canals and gondolas which, by the way, were being operated rather efficiently by Filipino gondoliers singing a variety of songs while managing the canal with their oars. The ride was too expensive for us that we just watched the gondoliers and listened to them belt out a song. Tired, we headed back to the hotel and slept.

My wife woke me up at around 4:00 am only to ask me if I wanted to try the small casino at the ground floor of the hotel. Without any hesitation, I obliged. Unfortunately, I lost my winnings. Lucky for her as she won HK$500. After breakfast, we headed for the ferry that was to take us to Hong Kong. When we landed in HK, I was relieved to find out that the our hotel, The Royal Pacific Hotel and Towers was just a few steps above the dock as it sits along the banks of the Victoria Harbor. I have been to Hong Kong before and knowing that it was all shopping and walking endlessly amid a throng of people, I planned to just stay inside the hotel. However, my eldest daughter insisted that I went with them on a tour of the sitting giant buddha perched on top of a mountain after a 30 minute cable car ride. I could not resist my daughter so I went only to be frightened by the cable car as I have fear of heights. Nevertheless, the buddha was wonderful alright but was not coaxed to climb the long plight of stairs to reach it.

The following day, everybody was geared up to go shopping. This time, I told everyone that I only intended to stay at the hotel, go to sleep and head for the airport at around 3 pm. And that was what I did exactly. At around 2:30, I took a bath and headed for Nathan Road and took the A21 bus for the airport. I suspect my early return was by design so that I can pick them up the following day but my wife swears that that was not the case. Oh well...

What was funny was that upon landing at the airport, I received a text message from my brother-in-law that he was at the Resort World and was waiting for me. Without any hesitation as I was already hungry (it was 9:30 pm and I have not had anything to eat except for a lame sandwich on the plane) I took the shuttle bus that ply along NAIA 3 and Resort World and Marriott Hotel. There, we had dinner and again, since I was already there, took another shot at the machines. NO LUCK!!!

In all, I enjoyed this trip not because of the fantastic lights and the man-made spectacle Macau had to offer. My joy was not only because the free bus rides we took to take us to different places were all very convenient and luxurious but most especially because it was a welcome respite from work and I had the time of my life spending it with my loved ones. How I wish my two boys were there too and I would have enjoyed my visit of Macau, in all its plastic, superficial splendor. Nevertheless, I thank the mighty provider to have endowed me with a fantastic experience and pray that I shall be blessed with more.

It's not all about Kimchi

2011-10-20T05:48:00.010+08:00

I was a tourist when I first visited South Korea. Being a tourist is not the best way to see a country. Not only is the time too short with a fully-packed itinerary that one does not have time to use all the senses to their fullest capacity. What you get is a sensory overload of impressions without actually ingesting the essence of each aroma, taste, sight and touch. More so, one is trapped in a plastic bubble bouncing here and there and not really acquiring the pulse of the country and its people. Hence, my first time was all temples and shopping malls and whatever a tour guide does to drain you of valued cash with no actual contact with the locals. It is not too long before I suspected I was only seeing what they want me to see - a sugar-coated candy that will be sweet till the last bite. And to think I am diabetic!

This is the reason why I got so excited that Sunday morning when I got a text from no less than the Brother President asking me if I wanted to join him in Korea to arrange for a school cultural exchange deal. After making sure it was the South and not the North we were visiting, I readily said yes after excitedly telling my wife about it and getting her nod. I began making preparations for the trip. I saw to it that I had a suit, undershirts, matching ties, shoes, and most of all, calling cards – a very important commodity for Koreans and the Japanese.

I was part of a 3-man delegation headed by the Brother President, who we fondly call Broden, and Ms. Lani Maderazo, the Head of the Cultural Program of the school. We were escorted by Mr. Kevin Lee, a Korean whose line of work is about creating exchange programs between Korean schools and different schools abroad primarily for sports, but in effect, also covers the academics and the arts.

We arrived at Incheon Airport around 11:30 pm on October 16 aboard Cebu Pacific Flight 5J194. We had to traverse a long road going to our first destination at Cheungchungbok-do. As it was already way past dinner, I was extremely hungry. Kevin, God bless him, intended to feed us first before heading off to our first destination. Unfortunately, the restaurants at the airport were already closed so, we went out and had dinner at what I supposed is a usual stop for those arriving and leaving the airport. It goes without saying that I was excited to eat my bibimbop so much so that when Kevin saw me gobbling the food, he told me to slow down and savor the taste. That was my first faux pas.

On our arrival at Cheungchungbok-do after about an hour and a half drive at a 120 km car cruise, Kevin billeted us at the elegant Ramada Hotel. The place was chilly and very quiet as if we were the only creatures still alive at that time. It was 1:30 am. The following morning, after a hearty buffet breakfast at the hotel, clad in our finest suits, we went to our first destination, the Daesong Elementary School, a privately-owned school where Kevin's son studies. The school is very impressive. It employs Canadian teachers who teach English; as a result, the students there spoke in correct grammar and have good pronunciation skills.

he second school we visited was Saegwa High School - the real purpose of our visit to Korea as the two school presidents of both schools are to sign a Memorandum of Understanding as regards the exchange program our schools are to make. We were greeted with a banner welcoming our arrival and warmly met by no less than the president and his committee. Just like the first school, we were taken to the school’s head’s office, asked to sit down on huge stately sofas opposite one another that surround a huge coffee table. With an interpreter nearby, we were formally introduced to one another and after a brief exchange of pleasantries and calling cards, were offered tea to drink. With all the protocol we underwent in both schools, I was already feeling like an ambassador on a State visit. Then, we were led to an auditorium where students had been waiting for us. I began to suspect music like “Hail to the Chief” would begin to fill the air by then but I realized that would be wishing for “the whole nine yards.” Nevertheless, I felt I was a member of the Diplomatic Corps with all the fanfare afforded to us.

The two presidents took turns in speaking their prepared speeches with the Korean translator at the podium interpreting. After the signing of the Memorandum of Understanding and photo ops, we were taken to lunch at a traditional restaurant on a mountain called Songrisen, about an hour drive from the school. It was my first traditional restaurant experience where you had to eat with nothing to separate a diner and the floor except for a thin pillow. I sat with my feet in a lotus position while the side dishes (about 20 of them) and the main course were being served. After 10 minutes, my feet began to feel numb and before I felt pins and needles, I managed a short stretch or else I would have to be put on a stretcher because I could not even stand on my own. The food, for me, was delicious for unlike Filipino food that is always more on the salty kind. There were some that certainly had to be an acquired taste. However, it was not all too different for my taste buds for after all, I have a huge appetite for stranger things. After lunch, our hosts took us to the nearby Songrisan National Park where one finds a very ancient temple and a very big Buddha that dwarfs any human being beside it. Images of the Forbidden City flashed before my eyes as we walked marvelling at the temple and nearby edifices. The multi-colored trees on the background gave me a feeling of peace and tranquillity. I could have stayed there for a whole day reading a good book or painting with watercolor sufficient to make me a very contented man.

That night, we were invited to a lavish dinner by the school administrators and some members, probably officers, of the parents association. Just like lunch, we were to dine the Korean way; leave shoes at the front, wear the provided slippers and sit on the floor while eating. Added to my agony of having to sit on the floor, I still have yet to master using their iron chopsticks. My second faux pas came when I dropped food on that immaculately clean floor simply because it slipped from my chopsticks. The female interpreter could sense how hard it was for me and she could only empathize. But I had no complaints for they fed us well. We were presented gifts and after bidding everyone adieu, went back to the hotel satiated.

The next day, we started early as we had to leave for Seoul. Along the way, our first stop was a school for the arts, similar, in lack of a better comparison, to our Makiling High School for the Arts. It, too, was on top of a mountain. However, students there stay for a five-day retreat to gain experience in ceramic pottery, candle-making, dance, drama and what-have-you. We were met by the owner, a sculptor, and several guys whose names I do not recall in spite of the cards given me. We were served lunch and after a tour of the area, we were on our way to Seoul.

We visited more schools but to avoid redundancy, allow me to just talk about two more schools which I find very notable. The first one is the Ahyon Polytechnic School, a school where teen-agers learn the rudiments of the performing arts. At the ground floor, one finds the students learning how to do make-up and props for the theatre. The materials they use are just too impressive and the students’ works, impeccable. The second floor is composed of rooms that had standard varied musical instruments. Each room is complete with drum sets, amps for guitars and are ready for recording sessions. The piano room had several pianos with headsets attached to each one lest the room becomes a cacophony of piano renditions of varied tunes playing simultaneously. The teacher can just plug in to what piano he wanted to hear just like what we have in speech clinics. We were treated to a two-woman act of a song and dance routine as they rehearsed for a show the following day - a show we were invited to watch. One group played Quicy Jones’ Ai No Corrida, a disco sound from the early 80’s that amazed us at how they sounded just like the original.

The other is the Gwanak Camp, a facility where students learn to speak English. Not necessarily a school as we conceive it to be, this is a public facility where Grade 6 pupils in different schools come for five days to learn from teachers coming from the US, Canada and Great Britain. The facility is very impressive as it has top of the line gadgets and learning tools imaginable

As for the cultural aspect of our visit, we were given a taste of both the pop and the high-end cultural shows. We were taken to the Korean Broadcasting System more popularly known as KBS (we have it in cable here) where famous singers like the group of Sandara Park used to play (we were told that her group is no longer famous). We were able to catch the more popular group called Sistar, an all- girl group who is uber sexy and beautiful (well, they sound good, too) among others. We also watched a cultural show entitled Miso, a dance concert featuring a love story that was tragic but was resolved with a happy ending.

My impressions of South Korea never changed from what I have when I first set foot in it. The country, with its very efficient system, seems to be flawless. With practically all vehicles, even the motorcycles that mobilize the city to its fast paced rhythm are armed with a GPS. The city streets are clean and devoid of people who have nothing better to do than ogle and watch for unknowing victims, or those “istambays” drinking at the corner of the street that plagues Manila. There, everyone is busy trying to live a decent life, industrious and effectively doing their chores.

With my recent trip, I have learned how the elders educate their young - with a fully functional government funding most of the schools with a “no holds barred” policy of providing the learners with excellent, quality education. The schools, with their ubiquitous huge mirrors that welcome everyone, one suspects that these are not just for vanity’s sake but for something more sublime, their flare for traditions, rituals and protocols like bowing and leaving the slippers at the door, and the respect one gives to another no matter what stature one has in society that even superiors bow to his/her subordinates as a sign of respect. One can feel the love for country and what it stands for in each and everyone. I can just marvel at the level of confidence of every individual knowing that one is just as good as the person beside him/her. With the government spending for more instructors who are native speakers of English, I have the feeling that while we have seen the influx of Koreans here in the country, someday, the onrush will stop as they have already acquired what they want from us in their own land and we will, once more, be left behind as we impatiently hie into the roads of progress, rather carelessly, only to be marred by an undisciplined populace made lazy by an obfuscate political system and an unabashed corruption of greedy leaders who care for nothing except to enrich themselves by stealing from the public coffers.

Samu't sari

2011-09-27T06:12:00.007+08:00

It's raining again and I have nothing to do. Actually, that's not true. There are tons of things to do but I don't feel like doing them. I have not written anything for quite some time now and before I lose touch of my writing self, I better exercise. So here I am, amid the raging storm hearing the winds pounce on the roof and finding its way in tiny crevices in the window causing it to howl madly like a wolf in mourning, I blast away on my keypad trying to make sense of thoughts that go through my mind :)

Interestingly, two years ago, we had one of the worst flooding in Manila. Yesterday was Ondoy's 2nd year anniversary and here we are experiencing bad weather once again.

Yesterday was declared to be family day and we decided we'd eat together and have fun. I cooked seafood pasta in marinara sauce with basil thrown into it while my wife brought home Savory chicken and bread. I was looking forward to a nice dinner but lo and behold, my two elder children called up to say they can't go home early as they were still in a meeting in their respective companies. We had to eat ahead of them. Drats.

Looking further on, my son, Mickey, was in a concert at the Philamlife Auditorium. His friend, Reginald Espiritu who is now studying at the Berklee School of Music, came home for the summer break and decided he'd do a concert with his friends in Manila and that included my son. So, together with members of the Manila Symphony Orchestra and the Lasallian Youth Orchestra, they practiced and managed to put up a concert. They also invited three other entertainers - Rivermaya, Julianne Tarroja and Quest. I've invited the school President, Bro. Dennis and our visiting brother from Mexico, Bro. Lazaro and they both came. It was a truly remarkable night especially for Mickey as he was the concert master and even played solo in the opening.

I've finally reconnected with my cousins, Ferdie and Mon Macasaet. These guys were with me for a year when we all studied at St. Paul San Miguel, Bulacan. Facebook is just wonderful. I called them up and managed to talk to their mom, Ate Dolor. I plan to take my sisters Ate Linda and Ate Becky to their house this Sunday. Hopefully the weather will be better by then.

Through Mon's account, I traced our former classmates and quite frankly, I could not recognize anyone. After 30 years, we sure have changed a lot. For sure, I have grown tons of weight and where I gain in body structure, I have lost in hair. I have contacted the ones I remember but nobody has replied back except for the acceptance of my friend invites to Lally and Boyet. Well, maybe they have forgotten about me for after all, I only stayed in St. Paul for a year.

Through Ferdie's account, I managed to get in touch with Nats, son of Ate Bine, whom my father had pleaded to take me as no school in Manila would accept me. It was through her intercession that I managed to get into St. Paul and continue with my life. She is now 85 years old.

As the cliche goes, how time flies. Now that I am nearing my retirement, I long for old friends and reminisce. Oh well...

Several more brushstrokes and the wall shall be alive

2011-08-20T09:34:00.004+08:00

I am doing a collaboration mural with several artists notably A. G. "dolphin" Sano. The guy's been doing murals for almost forever, I think. His works are everywhere in the Philippines. There's one in C5, here in school, another in Paliparan, Marikina and a lot more others. We started last Wednesday, 17 Aug, and I was amazed how fast we worked. I was able to sketch about four faces. I have started doing the painting and coloring and I'm almost done. A few more working days (nights) and I shall be doing the finishing touches. I intend to help the others as soon as I am done with my share of the wall. So far I have about 5 figures in it. The only thing is that we work at night. Last Wednesday, we started at 9 pm and ended at 4 am. You can just imagine how my day was that Thursday. I had to prepare the artworks which are contest winners and selected works in our on-the-spot painting contest for exhibit. That entailed framing, naming and posting them on the panels. Needless to say that I was already very sleepy before lunch. The drive home was terrible. I could feel my muscles shutting down on me. To make matters worse, the traffic situation at C5 was at its worst. I almost had an accident that night. I just realized I was headed right in front of a parked Pajero. (Hope my wife doesn't read this)

The good thing about doing the project is the association and the bonding one experiences doing something like this. The painters I am working with are advocates. A. G. is a strong advocate of, you guessed right, dolphins! I guess he saw The Cove. A movie about how dolphins are being slaughtered in one part of Japan. He is also against the killing of sharks. His girlfriend, May, is an NGO worker and an advocate of nature. I have no advocacy yet and maybe hanging on with these guys would turn me into an advocate, somehow.

Ars Gratia Artis

2011-08-08T21:39:00.007+08:00

During the 70's, sex movies flourished. If I remember it correctly, what started the band wagon was a documentary film entitled "Language of Love". This was the first movie that showed two people having actual carnal knowledge with genitals and all being shown on the big screen. This brought mild porn to the mainstream with movies bearing titles like "Marsha" and the like giving rise to the term "Bomba". Naturally, Filipinos cannot be far behind. The first Filipino movie that showed nudity, to my recollection was "Uhaw", a Merle Fernandez film. Then things went haywire and the movies became bolder and bolder. Foreign films like "Lush Combo" and other smut began to show up. Old movie houses which would have double shows, triple even, became the favorite choice of movie enthusiasts of this genre for these cinemas had what was termed as "singit" or "in-between" screenings which were usually the porno stuff which were best shown in the privacy of someone's bedroom. I was a sophomore then and classmates who had cheated their age to get a driver's license and had been issued cedulas became very popular not because they were able to purchase beer but because they could enter the movie house at will even if the show was "For Adults Only." What we usually did was have them pay for the tickets for us and we were allowed to watch under the premise that we were all "adults". During martial law, these genre faded but made a comeback when Gloria Diaz and Elizabeth Oropesa made a film that would showcase their wet braless blouses showing their nipples. This was the birth of the "bold" era. Then the "pene" era arrived.

Why did I suddenly begin remembering these events in my life? Well, because of the oft repeated argument that these films were done for art's sake. Be it bomba or bold, the starlets would be heard justifying the display of their naked bodies onscreen was inevitable since the role called for it - as if that was okay making and that made a lot of sense. Like art was a license of some sort to do dastardly things and it would be alright.

What has that got to do with the present? A lot! I have been reading in the papers about a very controversial exhibit now being shown at the CCP of supposedly "art" which causing an uproar with a lot of people, especially Catholic church officials because said exhibit, they claim, is a desecration of Jesus Christ and the Holy Family. I am referring to "Kulo" an exhibit of some 30 artists from the University of Santo Tomas led by Mideo Cruz.

I have not seen the exhibit personally but I know that it includes the image of Jesus Christ with a male organ right on His face, the statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary given horns and whiskers, etc. Based on the reports I have been reading, what can I say, as an artist and an Art educator?

During the 60's, John Lennon caused the ire of the public when he said that the Beatles was more popular than Jesus. Quickly, people burned their albums condemning the British singer as an arrogant bastard whose popularity got over his head. Later on, John explained that he never meant to displease the public. He never said that he or the Beatles as a group is more powerful than Jesus Christ. All he said was that it seemed like people idolize them too much that they are beginning to be more popular than Jesus. There's a big difference there.

Anyway, having that in mind, my first reaction is to be non-judgmental especially that I have not seen the exhibit personally. I tried to rationalize and asked questions like, "What is the theme of the exhibit?" "What is it's message?" "Could it be that the artists are depicting the abasement of religion in modern times? That they wanted to show their audience that we are losing our faith and this is how they know how to show that message?" If this is correct, are they right? Are they using the right method to show their opinions? At any rate, I have to see the raison d'etre of the exhibit before I can pass judgment.

On the other hand, I cannot discount the possibility that one of the ploys of artists in order to be popular is to launch a piece that has a super shocking factor. A piece that shocks the world enough to make the people talk about it. That would definitely place someone in the map. Definitely, "Kulo" is one that has uber shocking effect attacking the primary religion of a land that even Presidents and other political leaders kowtow and listen to its priests.

Objectively, what do I think of the works on exhibit? While it did manage to cause fire, like true art should, I believe that it has overdone it. The question remains - Is its shocking factor sufficient for it to be considered as good art? Will it be enough to exonerate the artists of said exhibit from the prelates' ire? Can it be considered good art even if it denigrates the sensibilities of the faithful? Is it alright to insult someone's beliefs for the sake of Art?

For me, I would have not been troubled by genitals on display not because that is quite ordinary these days but because it is part of the human body and hence could be the subject of art. However, I have problems when art is used to insult someone else's beliefs. We should treat each other with respect. If there is something I feel passionately about, I expect another to respect that even if he or she does not believe it.

What about the artists' freedom of expression? Isn't there a constitutional guarantee for one to exercise this freedom? Yes, but then I believe that the right to freedom of expression carries with it a concomitant amount of responsibility. Every kind of freedom, as a matter of fact, does. We do not want freedom to go haywire for it may cause mayhem for everyone and anyone can claim having the right. As an Art educator, I think the freedom to express should be exercised with caution. Art should transcend thought, thought that is productive, a thought that stimulates the mind but nevertheless the same should promulgate goodwill in the end.

I don't know what the charter of the Cultural Center of the Philippines is but based on its title alone, I think its main purpose is to showcase and propagate Filipino culture. The present exhibit is not representative of the culture of the Filipino people. As a matter of fact, it is going to the opposite end. Also, it is probably a first of its kind, ergo, is not within the Filipino psyche. I would have understood had the exhibit been shown in another gallery for it is, after all, at this time alternative art rather than the mainstream.

In the end, is it good art for me? Again, I do not have the exact data on the exhibit. I don't know its theme or its reason for being. However, in my opinion, art is still about good taste and good taste is one that does not involve leaving a sour flavor in the mouth.

No Smoking

2011-07-20T16:14:00.002+08:00

I heard from the news this morning, while having breakfast, that the DOH is planning to push for the No Smoking ban started by the MMDA in some specified areas, be made nationwide. It seems that the world of smokers, which unfortunately includes me, is getting smaller and smaller. However, I am not fazed for I don’t smoke that much anyway and I am a bit sceptical that this law would ever be fully enforceable for several reasons. First is the ningas kugon mentality we have, a term every Filipino knows as that of something being good only at the start but failing to follow it through. Filipinos have this characteristic of initializing something but failing to finish it. Hence, most of the things we do are usually temporary in nature.

Second is that the law enforcers who are supposed to put this law into effect are mostly smokers themselves. This being the case, they may be more lax in applying the law.

I may be wrong with my assumptions but nevertheless, I think that the move of the DOH is still flawed. If they want to really get rid of smokers, why not go to the main source - the tobacco companies! Close them altogether and let us not produce cigarettes anymore. This also means we would stop importing cigarettes for to do so would defeat the very purpose of why we are closing the tobacco industry.

With this thought, let us see how strong a resolve the powers behind this can be.

Pa-birthday?

2011-07-09T14:57:00.004+08:00

Among the top news this week is the revelation that former president GMA authorized the PCSO to grant bishops with SUV's as a donation to help them in their mission to help the poor. It seems like the approval of the president was not done from her own volition but through the request of the beneficiaries. As one bishop asked for the donation as a gift for his birthday, after all, the car that he had was already seven years old and according to him was no longer in good condition (and I had my last car for 15 years and it still served its purpose). Naturally, the news has received flak from the people especially when the constitution has mandated that no amount of donation should be given to any religion or its representative unless such is assigned to the armed forces, or to any penal institution or government orphanage or leprosarium.

No public money or property shall be appropriated, applied, paid, or employed, directly or indirectly, for the use, benefit, or support of any sect, church, denomination, sectarian institution, or system of religion, or of any priest, preacher, minister, or other religious teacher, or dignitary as such, except when such priest, preacher, minister, or dignitary is assigned to the armed forces, or to any penal institution, or government orphanage or leprosarium.

I will leave the law angle to my friend, Connie who is an expert in the field and has written all about it, rather, superbly in her own blog.

Suffice it to say that the bishops justify their action contending that the donation is not really for them but for the benefit of their flock - to facilitate reaching the far-flung barrios, maybe. They also contend that the Pnoy government is just trying to get back at them for their hard stand on the RH bill. The former statement got me to reflect. I have yet to see a bishop do real missionary work. There have only been a couple of times that I have seen an actual bishop in my lifetime and I have been schooled in a Catholic school and still teach in one. And in all these times, it has been in a church and only upon the invitation of the parish or diocese where they say mass and/or give confirmation. This led me to be a skeptic of their justification.

Besides, why an SUV in the first place? To give them the high stature their office represent? But what about the vow of poverty and simplicity? Sometimes, I get to thinking and I get disappointed. Wag na ngang mag-isip ulit.

A crown jewel for twenty six

2011-04-21T07:46:00.003+08:00

I wake up today in luxury. We celebrated Nitz' birthday and our 26th anniversary yesterday. As agreed, we were to hear mass at 6 a.m. I acceded thinking it was her birthday and since it's a Wednesday, I assumed it would be a very ordinary short mass. However, when I woke up, Nitz was no longer in bed. (She is currently sleeping with her 87 year old mother as the mother's companion, Theresa, our trusted house help, has gone on vacation in her hometown in Bicol.) Before I digress, Nitz had already gone when I tried to go to her to wake her up. I thought she might have gone to church already or she could just be buying bread. To be sure, I texted her to know her whereabouts. True enough, she was already in church. It was her day and it should be very special. So, I got dressed and went to join her.

Alas, it was not an ordinary mass as I expected. They call it Chrisma. I have never attended one and I can only surmise that it was a mass that would celebrate the renewal of a priest's vows. There were about 50 priests coming from different towns and parishes with the archbishop celebrating the mass. In other words, it was a long celebration. There was this part when the priests lined up to receive the blessings of the archbishop with a bear hug and that alone consumed about twenty minutes or so. T make a long story short, the mass took about two hours.

When Nitz and I received holy communion, we did not finish the mass anymore and proceeded to have a simple breakfast at Jolibee. From there, I helped her cook her favorite dish by chopping about ten onions to smithereens causing my eyes to bleed tears.

After lunch, we set off for the hotel, Crowne Plaza, which is a gift from our eldest daughter, Kraiganne. When we got to the place, I joined the valet to see where he would park the car. (Actually, I forgot to bring my contraband of cigarettes and I didn't like my wife to see I brought some. :) When I tried to rejoin the family at the check in counter, I was told that they are checking in at the 19th floor. It was then that I realized this was not the usual hotel check-ins we usually do. True enough, we were led to a suite room at the 17th floor. My daughter made sure we would enjoy something different this time. Very nice.

When we were settled, we were joined by our two sons. First to arrive from school was Coby. Still clad in his chef uniform, he arrived with some delicacies and a bunch of flowers for his mom. Mickey was still in the office in a meeting with his bosses. He joined us at dinner together with my sister-in-law, her husband, and their child.

Our twenty-sixth anniversary is just like the way we always celebrate it. Fun and enjoyment with nary a care in the world about office work, debts and all that negative vibes which is just as it should be. With this famiy I've got, who needs to be rich?

traje de boda

2011-04-10T13:08:00.012+08:00

Just like playing the guitar, I have indulged in poetry without any formal training. I am basically self-taught and having discovered my interest in it when I turned 40ish, I am rather late. Equipped with nothing but vague memories of what at the time seemed meaningless lectures from high school teachers, I plunged ahead thinking I could make it on my own, with lots of help from an online university to provide me with the ins and outs of what poetry is, and how it is done. Armed with a little knowledge gathered from online friends and reading here and there, I tried my best to get myself published once I thought I was ready. After all, why am I studying the craft if my products could not be read or heard, or so, I thought.

Slowly, I managed to sneak into the world of letters having some of my works published in the same online university. As a matter of fact, I even managed to give a public reading of three of my poems in Richmond, Canada, with the auspices of my very good friend, the late Arlene Lawson.

I can say that poetry has been very good to me. I have befriended a lot of poets and writers from abroad. That gave me enough courage to try new depths. It was during this time when I chanced upon a site for Filipinos in the diaspora, a term I even had to look up. I submitted some of my works and failed miserably. It was then that I knew my knowledge is not yet up to par. I should have been crushed but that is not my way.

At the time, I was already practicing to write by maintaining this blog. Unbeknownst to me, I shall be friends with two remarkable sisters, one is a visual artist, the other, the associate editor of the same mag I wanted to penetrate. I don't recall who among the sisters I got to know first but I did exchange blog links with at least one of them. Then, from out of nowhere, the associate editor, Aileen, contacted me one time to tell me that she was interested in publishing my first poem ever that is written in tagalog,Malapot na Tubig or should I say, Filipino, as more people in the academe refer to it. I was ecstatic. To think I was contacted and offered to be published in the mag I wanted to penetrate was heaven to me considering that neither she nor I knew where we are coming from. She would ask me again for my permission for another poem and ask me to join a project of a thousand views of Eileen Tabios' "Girl Singing". That gave me a natural high.

Nevertheless, this post is about the associate editor, Aileen Ibardaloza's, first book of poems entitled traje de boda published by Meritage Press with the cover having been designed by none other but the sister, Sophia. I am fortunate enough to have the honor of having a copy together with another book the poet has sent my way, Toni Morrison's beloved.

From the title alone, I hint the union of two personalities, which I suspect is a metaphor for the merging of two cultures not necessarily worlds apart. To me, the term traje de boda does not simply mean a wedding dress but it suggests sophistication brought about by a rich Spanish heritage deeply embedded in our veins. The fact that we have been influenced by more colonizers complicates our entire being rendering the traje de boda as not only consisting of a heritage taken from the conquistador but is, in fact, the conglomeration of a hodge podge of different sets of values, mores and sentiments rolled into one. In all its ups and downs, this mix is what makes us unique as a people.

I say that the merger of two cultures does not necessarily mean of two opposing worlds as the culture of one of the halves is already known to one of the partners after having been exposed to it, nay, probably to what the other's kindred wanted to be exposed. I say this having in mind one of the poems, Viand, a term we all know to be a dish to go with rice. We enter the world of the union with lines such as

...not
having encountered
the word before,

and
on whom
language was never

forced...

While this can be seen as something light, if not comical, yet we know the situation can be serious as with matter/of children,/politics,in-laws, finances (La Paloma) but everything is worth it considering the happiness the union brings as in Italian Wedding Soup or the commitment one gives in For Paul

But this is not all that I got from the book. I also feel the sense of longing for what once was while learning to embrace the new. I managed a smile upon reading Quiapo a poem written, I suppose, from memory. I, too, have not gone to the place in a very long time and the images that the poem conjured are the same as mine. It may be acaulescent (another word I had to look up. Man do I have a very limited vocabulary) for it is the arm that stretches to all directions. Any part of Manila points to Quiapo and vice versa. It is the heart from where the blood flows; where vendors of abortive potions, assorted herbs, amulets juxtaposed with red candles sell beside the grand ole church to where the Black Nazarene sleeps. It is the age-old traditions of pre-colonial times trapped within an urban jungle.

The book, too, is about relationships made more complicated by players with different circumstances, forged by time between joy and angst, turmoil and plentitude, naivete and wit and so much more. The ironies in The hay(na)ku of the Broken Fourth Wall, replete with sharp images give it power. Who would miss the reference to Jose Rizal and Josephine with the words dulce extrangera? A term Rizal gave to his "lonely" wife. We feel the loneliness of the man as he leaves behind an alien woman who will live in a foreign land in condemnation of her beloved's family and yet continue to fight the battle of her husband and dying of extreme poverty in yet another land that is HongKong?

If there is one thing I learned from this book, other than rousing my otherwise, short attention span, it would be knowing how to make a poem, deliver its punches, enjamb in more ways than one. I have concretized what I have read before that what is universal lies in the particular. That one can write about what one knows without fear of not being understood by another person from the outside looking in. That one should learn how to speak from the heart and surely, there will be someone somewhere who could relate to it and this will grow until what one has written is accepted to be universal truth.

Like I said, I am just self-taught. I may be way-off with my understanding of the book, its essence and raison d'etre and for that I apologize. But I shall not apologize for my innocence. This has been what I saw, or witnessed as I turn each page and I am owning it. To my friend, congratulations on a job well done.

Two Saints

2011-03-18T14:04:00.007+08:00

Sometime in 1996, I was commissioned by then Director, Mr. Ochave to create a painting of St. La Salle. My first problem was that I did not have any picture of the subject except for paintings already done by different artists. This made me think that the portrait that I shall be doing will be a painting of a painting. Why do I have to do that when there are lots of copies of the same painting available? It was then that I thought of doing a mosaic to put a different spin on the subject. Hence, what I did was to get colored paper, cut them into squares of about 1/4 of an inch and arrange these squares of different colors until it formed a likeness to the saint. Here is a picture of the outcome.

Unfortunately, the colored papers are now fading away and given a few more years, the face will eventually be gone. Prior to this, I made a mosaic
(my first) of another La Salle saint, Bro. Miguel Febres Cordero who had just been canonized that year (circa 1982) and from whom then newly constructed Prep building was named. I used chips of wood which I laboriously painted with different colors. It was exhibited at the facade of the building until the same has been rebuilt into a bigger edifice which it is now. I don't know where they placed the painting but I have lost track of it is now. Sometimes, this is the problem when an "unknown" artist does a work for free. It does not seem like the piece has any worth and the people that should be taking care of it are unmindful of whatever happens to it. In fairness, I don't think they've thrown it away. It's just somewhere out there waiting to be re-discovered.

A masochist by heart, this year, knowing that retirement is closing in on me, I wanted to leave behind a legacy which will remind everyone that I worked in this school for almost 30 years. I wanted to do another portrait of the founder but the Brother president had something else in mind. Since we have just finished the new administration building, he wanted me to do a portrait of the saint from whom the building is named. This time, I opted to use oil using the same principle of juxtaposing colors instead of mixing them, a technique that closely resembles George Seurat's pointillism. I made a 4' X 5' portrait of St. Mutien Marie. Here it is. Please disregard the big difference in my weight and the amount of hair on my forehead.

The Start of Something Big

2011-02-23T11:52:00.006+08:00

On January 28, we held the school's annual on-the-spot art contest. Participated in by grade schoolers from Grades 1 - 7, the competition extended to high school with the following categories. Category 1 (Grades 1 - 3) painting; Category 2 (Grades 4 - 5) painting; Category 3 (Grades 6 - 7) Mobile-Making; Category 4 (high school) painting; and, Category 5 (High school)painting. We invited artists like Mr. Boy Ventura, Mr. Mario Patdu, Bro. Lazaro and our own alumnus, Mahal Adams to judge the entries. When the winners were known, we put these on exhibit together with selected works and various works done by students for the schoolyear. We awarded the winners and opened the exhibit on February 15 with a simple ceremony attended by no less than the President of the school, the principals and their assistants, coordinators, teachers, winners and some guests.

The Judges Judging!

As part of the affair, I wrote a short article to introduce the exhibit which we entitled: The Start of Something Big I am reprinting it here for safekeeping for whatever it is worth.

People’s view of Art as a subject has often been misdirected. This is borne out of the misconception that art only involves doing things that are mere pieces of indefinable hubristic ornaments perceived with an even-a-child-could-do-that attitude that, at best, are hung on walls or those that are put on pedestals to adorn hallways; however, art is about a nation’s history and culture giving the people not only a sense of pride but more importantly, endowing it with a soul. It is during the Art subject that one finds meaning to what one is as a human being, a citizen of a country and, eventually, the world. It is in the Art subject that one begins to know how his forefathers lived, what clothes they wore, etc. It is in the Art subject that students begin to see how his/her people view things around them.

Given the right treatment in teaching the subject, the lessons learned and the values derived from it can be limitless. While it is true that engaging in art can be frolicsome, it is not as superficial as it is purported to be. Engaging in Art can be as important as the other subjects. More than anything, it is more accessible and even much more timelessly relevant than any other. Unbeknownst to even more, we use art in our everyday life more than we know it. There is Art in everything we see and do. There should be art in your choice of clothes- making your color choices match or even designing your own. The most complicated product could not have been successful had not the designers known how to make its packaging as beautiful as it is. From the latest car models to the smallest everyday gizmo one can have in his/her collection, everything started with paper and pencil to make the product not only workable but enticingly beautiful and, most especially, saleable.

The Art subject provides you with the mundane to your most essential needs. It not only teaches you about aesthetics, it also teaches you how to observe the handling of materials and the characteristics of colors to enable you to come up with your own style. The subject is where you start to fulfil your fantasy, make your reality known and shape your future and the world.

From this exhibit, you will find budding artists who will design beautiful packages, engineers who will build strong machines, architects who will create astounding buildings and painters who will record our history through their art. Together, these people will carve the landscape of tomorrow be it in the visual arts, fashion, industry or technology. So in essence, this is the start of something big.

A walk back to 1973 and I was 16 years old again

2011-01-24T20:04:00.028+08:00

Back in 1973, I was exiled (or should I say banished, if that is a better term) by my father to far away San Miguel, Bulacan in a parish school called St. Paul's College. It was just a year after Marcos had declared Martial Law. How I wish the reason for my exile was because I was hiding from the military because of my political views. However, it was not that romantic. I was far from being political at the time. I was just 16 years old going 17 and I think I was too young to join either the Samahang Demokratiko ng Kabataan or SDK or the more renegade Kabataang Makabayan (KM). Let us just say that I have not been a good boy. It was the 70's and we, meaning my friends and I, were experimenting with a lot of things and discovering the world on our own.

Last Wednesday, I was one of the school's representatives to go on an ocular visit of San Miguel for the school's prospective alternative learning (ALE otherwise known as a field trip) to the Madlum Caves, Biak-na-Bato and nearby Balingcupang, a series of caves which was used by Aguinaldo and his katipuneros as hideouts during the war. As fate would have it, I successfully convinced my companions to make a detour to go visit what was my hometown for a year. When we reached the place, I could not believe it but the place barely changed. Of course, the old St. Paul school was no longer there as it has moved to a bigger lot along the highway, which was really the plan even while I was there back in 73. And yet, the municipal hall, the old house built in 1931 which was bought by the Paulinian nuns to be the rooms for some of its college classes, the restaurant-cum-dormitory where I stayed during the second half of my schooling there are still recognizable. Suddenly, I remember the prominent surnames like Buencamino, Pengson, Libunao, Tecson, Reyes, Sevilla, my favorite teachers, Mr. Rolando Waminal (English) and Mr. Perez, (Chemistry), with whom I shared several bottles of beer until about 9 or 10 pm practically everyday in the restaurant where I stayed. I also remembered my classmate that I had a teen-aged crush on, a pretty lass from nearby San Ildefonso. It was just like yesterday and I was 16 years old again.

The picture above was the immediate vicinity of the then St. Paul's College which we used as our playing area. I remember hanging out on an old grotto together with my classmates during recess and lunchtime.

The picture below shows the facade of the building. When asked what it was now, I was told that they were transforming it into a memorial chapel.

I remember being in the honor's class, (there were only two) Junior Jade, and our classroom was the first room immediately after the gate. When inside the classroom, I would peek out the window to check out who was outside and when outside, I could peek in and see if classes have already started.

I was with two of my cousins, Ferdie and Ramon, who came to study here. They were former seminarians who got out and found refuge in San Miguel. Ferdie, the older one, was my age but he was already a Senior. I would have been a Senior, too but unfortunately, I had to repeat the year. I was a bad student, remember? The younger one, Ramon, was my classmate. Ferdie commuted everyday from Baliwag to San Miguel while Ramon and I opted to live in a dorm inside an old house which turned out, after googling it,used to be owned by the Santiago's. I had lots and lots of stories to tell about this house which, from day 1, the natives told us, was haunted. I remember people staring at us after knowing that we lived there.

Ramon and I had two more guys living in the house. I could not remember their names but the older one was a very intelligent guy who just arrived from the Visayas and the other, a Freshman which, for some unknown reason, my mind tells me his name is Alex Montinola. So until someone reminds me who the guy is, he will be Alex to me.

The house was huge with its flooring made of thick slabs of narra wood that no matter how hard you jumped, it would not tremble. The rooms were transformed into classrooms by day until around 7 pm. After classes and when every student had gone home, it became eerie, especially when all lights are turned off. It would be pitch black that one would think he had his eyes closed for he could not even see his palm even if it was right in front of his face. There was an adjacent building where two caretakers lived. We would cross the rooms and join them for a drink of our favorite brew, a long neck and a pulutan of ginataang rimas.

The layout of the house, as I recall it, was that there was a big staircase which leads to the comfort room to the right. Turn left and there would be a dining room but we rarely ate there for none of us cooked. Press on farther and the next would be our sleeping room. There were four beds (cots, I think). If you notice, there are balusters next to a tree. What we did was cut two of these balusters, put them back, and come night time, crawl out using the balusters and hang on and get down to the adjoining tree, go out of the gate and travel all the way to Baliwag to watch a movie.

AFter a month, my cousin left the dorm leaving the three of us. Soon after, my other classmate dropped-out because of his raging hormones told him he wanted to marry a girl from college in the same school but the relationship was thwarted by the girl's family. A few days thereafter, Alex moved to the restaurant where we ate. I was all alone. Sometimes, I would ask some classmates to stay and sleep with me but most often, I was alone. What I would do was cover underneath my blanket and think, if there would be a ghost or whatever, he/she can take me anywhere he/she wants but I am not taking off my blanket!

St. Paul and San Miguel will always be in my mind until memory fails me. It was a milestone not only because this was where I learned how to be on my own and live independently but most of all, I should say that during this time of my life when I was slumped to the ground, this was where I stood up! It was smooth sailing from then on. San Miguel, Bulacan, you will always be in my heart.

The Land with 6 Rings

2010-12-08T11:29:00.015+08:00

There is no greater adventure than traveling to another country where you get to meet its people, taste its food (as long as you are not picky and have a very adventurous palette), feel its climate, have a sense of its culture, and most of all, know its history. Well, thanks to budget flights, I have been fortunate to have visited the land with a very very long history that it even pre-dates America, most of the Western world and other civilizations by hundreds of years. A week ago, I have been to the heart of China we formerly called Peking, which we now know as Beijing.

Our trip to Beijing was the final leg of the tour of our visitors from Calgary, Canada, Leslie, a childhood friend of my wife, and her German-Canadian hubby, Gregor, who for the first time, visited our country in spite of the frightening stories told him by his peers at work like malaria, dengue and whatever danger one can possibly experience in another land. These plus the travel advisories the country has been getting from other countries which somehow put Philippine tourism at a standstill somehow making Gregor ill at ease about coming. But I'm sure he's glad he came based on his reactions especially when it was time for them to fly back to Canada. Anyway, after several days of visiting Cebu, Bohol, Boracay with my wife and Palawan to which I was fortunate to go,we all travelled with them to China which has been arranged by my wife and her very competent sister, Ate Lilia.

The travel was not without any glitch. First, the visa. Acquiring a visa for China is not that easy. They require an NBI clearance, among other things, which proved to be hard for me knowing how ordinary my name is. True enough, I share my name with another who has been charged with theft. The process was not easy. Then there was the issue of our passports, who our trusted agent had been told, did not have the necessary holes in our last passports,(which turned out was not only taken out as traces of the holes were discovered by my sister-in-law probing deeper into the status of the passports). The second glitch was when we were at the airport. My brother-in-law (husband of Ate Lilia), who is familiar with China as he travels there all the time, did not realize that his passport was to expire in May which is exactly six months from the time of our departure. Cebu Pacific has a policy that one cannot travel with a passport that shall expire in six months. This was not good as the hotel we were to spend the night was reserved to his name, etc... By some stroke of luck and quick thinking, he was able to get a ticket to HongKong, ride a train to the Mainland, catch a plane from there to join us in Beijing. The thing was he missed the tour of the Great Wall.

Anyway, we landed in Beijing at around 1 am with a -3 degree temperature. The biting cold was not as evident yet as we had to stay inside the airport till the tour guide, Helen Yan, picked us up at around 7 am. We were greeted with the utterly cold temperature as soon as we got out to a twenty-seater van that would be our ride throughout the stay. First stop was the Great Wall which was 45 minutes away from the airport. One cannot miss the magnificence of this structure especially knowing that it has been in existence since the 5th century BC. We were treading on centuries old stone which was built as a fortification to fend off nomads and other enemies of those inside the wall. The stones have begun to sink a few inches as based on how the cement used to put them together stuck out. We climbed it and it was no easy feat that reaching the top was like a milestone. Before climbing the wall, I had to buy a pair of gloves and a hat to keep myself from freezing.

Next stop was inside a store that sold enamel vases. There, we were shown how the vases are meticulously made by hand from its raw state till it is cleaned. The factory-cum store also housed the restaurant for our lunch. We had a wonderful meal of about seven courses and the ubiquitous house tea. Unfortunately, we found it impractical to purchase a vase.

Thereafter, we went to the Summer Palace which covers 2.9 square kilometers that contained the Kunming Lake which at this time is beginning to freeze. We could see the hardened water from afar.

Thereafter, we went to a silk factory where we were shown the worm that produces the cocoon from where the silk is harvested. We were in awe at how far the silk would stretch from that tiny cocoon. At the factory’s interior were the various products made out of silk.

After that was a hefty supper, again of several courses and eat-all-you-can rice. We stayed there for a while and headed for our next stop - the Olympic village. Again, one can only be in awe at the vastness of the area punctuated by the
Beijing National Stadium we know as the Bird’s Nest as it resembles just that, a bird’s nest illuminated by red interior lights. Just across it is the Beijing Aquatics Center more popularly called the Water Cube. This was illumined by blue lights. It could have been much more interesting had we gone inside but walking in a vast space at -2 degrees can be painful on your toes and fingers while your teeth chattered it can only be described as offensively cold! We just walked to the nearest spot we could to take a good picture and "suffered" walking our way back to the van with its heater.

WE checked in to Novotel, got three rooms and slept like there was no tomorrow. Day 1 was done!

The following morning, the telephone rang at 7 telling us that it was our morning call. The guide has told the front desk that we should be up and about by 8 am. We rushed to take a shower, had breakfast and we were on the road again. This time, we went to Tianammen Square another wide expanse of land reputedly to be the largest city square in the world. This square was witness to many historical events in China that includes the protests in 1989 where they tried to stop the military, notably tanks with their bodies, similar to what we have accomplished in 1986 we call people power. They failed.

Northside of the square opens up to yet another important landmark, the famous Forbidden City. Again, one cannot imagine how huge this was. It is a complex structure that contains seven huge gates that open up to yet another large interior wit a palace and several structures at the side. At this point, I could not make up my mind if I wanted to have been the emperor of the time knowing how powerful this man could have been, plus the 300 or so concubines (of course), and yet, being trapped in that huge environment with seven gigantic gates and nowhere to go? How much space does one man need? Also, we have been told that the emperor was always up on his toes at 4 in the morning, working, (with 300 concubines, I guess one should) and worry about his life which could be taken by a son or a relative for power. So, I like who I am, thank you.

Then we went to the Temple of Heaven composed of several Taoist buildings which was visited by emperors of the Ming and Qing dynasties to pray to the gods for a good harvest.

As any typical tourists, what is traveling without shopping? The last stop we did was to go shopping to two malls. It was very interesting as it is expected for one to haggle the price of a commodity and nobody can beat my sister-in-law to that kind of game. She was so good that after doing business with a lady and she introduced the rest of the party as "my friends", the saleslady could only utter, "Oh no,your friends!"

What do I make of my tour of Beijing. It was a revelation of some sort. I have always known the People's Republic of China as the model for communism, second only to Russia and yet, when I got there, I noticed that it can even be more capitalistic than any other country based on the businesses. I, in my own naivety even asked Helen, although I don't think I expressed myself well, how come there are food vendors plying the streets, while there are others who seem to have a lucrative job. "Who dictates what kind of job one should do?" I asked? She just stared at me. My bewilderment was even escalated when right after our shopping and we were about to leave for the airport, a woman with a baby was begging for alms. That surprised me a lot as my own idea of communism is that of equal distribution of wealth, based on the principle of "each according to his need" as opposed to the capitalistic "each according to his ability." Further reading on the subject led me to understand that after Mao's death and the conviction of the Big Four, Deng Xiaoping instituted economic reforms. By the way I look at it, based on the surge in the economy of China, maybe they are doing the right thing. But then, I have barely scratched the surface of China. I have been looking for residential areas and did not find any, I think. Being on a guided tour might have meant being able to see only what I was allowed to see. Nevertheless, the two-day tour was, in my mind, a remarkable experience.

Two Vacations

2010-11-26T14:43:00.002+08:00

In my fifty years of existence, I have had the opportunity to visit different places here and abroad. I have gone to different parts of the Philippines. I have gone up, down and sideways. From up north to Pagudpud, Ilocos Norte where radio stations from China can be picked up more than the stations in Manila, to down south in Mindanao like Cagayan de Oro, Iligan and Davao. I have seen the Mountain Terraces in Benguet and the wonderful Mayon Volcano and its perfect cone. I have travelled by car, boat, ship, plane and train. I have visited other countries like Canada, Malaysia, Thailand, Hong Kong, and South Korea.

And yet my journeys never seemed to be complete only because I have not yet seen the two most important spots in the country - Boracay and Palawan. I will have to agree that it is quite ironic for someone to visit other countries when one has not yet seen the best the country has to offer. Well, I am glad this sad fact changed this year. When my nephew, Nes Rina, from England came over to marry his fiancée, Lala, he decided to do a beach wedding in Boracay. He invited me and my family to witness the occasion. With free accommodation and food, who was I to refuse, right? We have not seen each other for a very very long time.

On April 4, 2010, unmindful of the stresses in school, it being summer and the school year about to close, I, together with my wife and children joined my relatives in Boracay for a holiday of fun and merrymaking. With my wife and children having gone there a couple of times, I was the first-timer, the aanga-anga in the group, which was not bad for I was the one who truly enjoyed the island the most. Everything was fresh and new to me - the wonderful sight of the retiring sun giving that orangey glow as it rests and hides in the horizon, the sound of the calm turquoise sea, the smell of the breeze blended with the aroma of glorious food wafting in the air, my newly acquired henna tattoo and all that festive mood of music and games all contributing to my delight.

The beach wedding was awesome. The flower girl, the English ward of my nephew's fiancee, was angelic in her white gown. The bride, in her expensive gown looked astonishingly beautiful. The ceremony, set with the setting sun that provided a soft, gentle light on our glowing smiles, was very solemn and yet drew a crowd of curious westerners on the beachfront of Station 1. By the time the couple exchanged I do's, a thirty minute firework display lit the dark night. We had one heck of a party thereafter with a group of local boys playing different kinds of drums providing latino music. We danced and drank the night away. What a way to spend a vacation in that wonderful island.

With Boracay done, the next thing to do was to go to Palawan. The opportunity came last Saturday, November 20. Nitz’ childhood friend, Leslie, who now resides in Calgary, Alberta in Canada, with whom we stayed for two days when we went there after our tour of Banff and Lake Louise, arrived on November 13 with her German-Canadian husband, Gregor. Their itinerary included a trip to Cebu, Bohol and Boracay with Nitz and our daughter Kim. As it is the school’s Foundation Week, I could not go with them. However, the next leg of the journey was a three day stay in Palawan. This time, I had no excuse not to go. So it did not take me a lot of convincing (like as if I needed it) to go with them on this trip. Luckily, Nitz and Leslie were able to get tickets for me that Friday night when I finally decided I wanted to come. The following day, we were on the plane headed for Puerto Princesa.

On arrival, our ride was there waiting for us to take us to the hotel. We had dinner and got ready for the tour the following day.
The first trip was a two hour drive to the Underground River – a navigable subterranean river that stretches to 8.2 kilometers of brackish water making it the longest underground river until the discovery of the one found in the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico. We were greeted by monkeys and a monitor lizard wandering around. Then, we walked inwards to where the site was for two minutes and the mouth of the cave appeared. We took our gears and rode the boat. Oared competently by a lone boatman who serves as a tour guide at the same time, the 45 minute trip was as relaxing as it was enjoyable. One is treated to an awesome display of nature-crafted stalactite and stalagmite formations whose arrangement is not lost to the very imaginative natives. It opens up to a huge cavern they call the cathedral with a huge candle-like figure welcoming you as you enter. To your right you’ll find images of the Holy Family and other icons. Farther downstream, you get to what they call as the market as you’ll find huge figures of cacao, corn, mushrooms, etc. Then it opens up again with an even bigger cavern with a surprising height of 65 meters. As is the nature of these caves, the place is replete with fauna, specifically, bats and other creatures. No, we did not see a snake althought the boatman said there are a few. Truly awesome!

What makes the ride really significant is the humor of the boatman. I couldn’t stop laughing at our boatman who had to speak in English the whole time because Gregor would not understand a thing if he did not. During the last part of the trip, he asked Gregor, who was the one responsible for the light, to direct his light on a piece of stone. He said, “In front of you, you will find an image of Jesus Christ just like the one in the Shroud of Turin. See his face? His nose is bleeding...just like me,” then he says in Tagalog to me, “sir hirap na hirap na ko. Talagang nose bleed na!” (Sir, I’m really having a hard time speaking in English that my nose is already bleeding!). Then, he also pointed at a structure that looked like the back of a nude lady. “She even has a name... Sharon.” We asked, “Sharon? Why Sharon?” Then he said “Stone. Sharon Stone.” He also showed us the water mark during high tide which could be as high as a meter. Then he said, “Even then, the river is still navigable during high tide. So you can come here no matter what time of day. Except 12 noon.” Wondering, we asked, “Why?” “It’s our lunch break, sir.” He also teased the ones just entering. The first boat had about 5 Germans. He said, “Gutten aben. (“Good evening” as it is so dark inside one can only travel with the aid of the flash light that ran on a car battery) I hope you make it.” Then, to the eight Filipino teen-agers, “Hi, enjoy! There were also eight of us when we started.”

Next on the agenda was go to the Mitra ranch, Baker’s Hill and the loom weavers. I tried my hand on the loom and it was really quite an experience. Knowing that these people would work up to a month just to finish a piece and for, I guess, a mere pittance, I felt sad for them. And yet, their glorious smiles never hinted at being sad. Truly remarkable.

The following day, we went to Honda bay to ride a boat and go island hopping. No, we did not really go swimming but did something better. We went snorkelling to watch and feed the different variety of fish that abundantly lived in the corals happy and unfazed by the swimmers who brought food with them. We had lunch, then proceeded to another island and see other breeds of fish swimming. Too sad, we had to leave for the airport and just like that, everything that transpired turned into just wonderful memories we will treasure forever. Palawan, I shall return.

Should we wait for Divine Intervention?

2010-11-04T08:40:00.003+08:00

Last September 26, we commemorated the biggest inundation Manila has ever seen with more houses being flooded to the roof than any other that happened in a lot of years. This was the worst tragedy brought about by rain that I have experienced with practically the whole of Manila being submerged in high water in only a matter of hours.

Looking back, I remember an old tale about a family trapped on top of their roof, nowhere to go. The family prayed hard for safety. A boat came and asked them to come aboard for safer grounds. The head of the family, being very religious, declined saying that God will help them. So they stayed and the water was not getting any lower. Another boat came and asked them if they would come aboard, but the man stood his ground saying God will provide. He and his family stayed there and prayed. The water never abated but on the contrary, was getting even higher. Another boat arrived and once again, the man declined and just prayed for the water to subside. However, albeit their prayers, the rains did not stop and the water became higher and the waves stronger. The man shouted, “MY God, why have you forgotten us?” The heavens opened and he heard a voice, “You fool! I have answered your prayers three times but you ignored them!”
There is a very famous saying in Filipino that goes like this: Nasa Diyos ang awa, nasa tao ang gawa.” Mercy resides in God; deeds are in men. What this simply means is that we cannot be dependent on God’s graces all the time. We have to do something first.

This is how I view the controversial RH Bill that continues to divide the country today. The divide was even made wider when PNoy, son of the devout Catholic Cory, admitted that he was for the passing of the bill. There had been rumors that the church, which has repeatedly opposed any and all attempts to enact a law on family planning, was ready to excommunicate the president should he continue his support for the bill. Many arguments from both the anti and proponents of the bill have been said but the question still remains, will it ever come into fruition or will it divide the nation to oblivion?

I can understand where both camps are coming from. The church has the right to lead its flock to where it thinks is holy ground. The government, on the other hand, cannot wait for Divine Intervention but has to act immediately on a problem that it faces. Population growth has always been our problem. With more than 90 million people, it will not take long before we fight among ourselves for every bit of space and the dwindling resources that we have. For government to ignore that there is a problem is irresponsible and such a huge faux pas cannot be corrected by a simple statement of “I am sorry” or “oops, I made a mistake!”

What is wrong with keeping people informed? Why deny the people of information that can easily be had. If the church’s grasp on its followers is so strong, it does not need to worry, does it? For me, what the church does is to keep the people in the dark and tell us that they have all the answers. Do they not undermine a person’s ability to be informed and be able to choose his/her plight. At least let us try to help one another and not leave things to chance or the heavens above.

2010-09-06T13:18:00.004+08:00

A lot has been said about the hostage taking that happened a week ago. It is not that I do not have an opinion about the caper of one dismissed police but I think too much has already been said. Besides, I am plagued with too much work to make an entry in my blog. However, there is one news item which piqued my interest a little. This is about former Ms. Universe, Gloria Diaz, suggesting to would-be candidates in beauty contests to use translators during the Q&A portion of the show. Ms. Diaz has been receiving flak for her pronouncements and even declared as persona non grata in Cebu. I shall not comment on the intentions of Ms. Diaz for neither have I seen the original interview nor am I privy to her thoughts. She has already explained what she meant and it can be read here if you are interested.

I like to comment on is why people would be slighted by this remark. After all, we are not native speakers of English and it is not uncommon that there are some who can speak and write the language more proficiently than others. If we are to believe Ms. Diaz’ explanation, it is not entirely baseless. She said her idea was for a contestant to answer in a language she is more comfortable with, hence answering the question more adequately. And yet, I am almost certain that the anger felt by Cebuanos is not confined to them. There are more Filipinos who were angered, albeit even initially, with her observation/comment. My only guess is because our medium of instruction is English. As such, we equate being proficient with English as being highly educated. How many among us frown at people who can hardly speak the language? How many among us laugh at someone who mispronounced a word or two? How many among us raised an eyebrow when someone speaks with incorrect grammar. How many among us had a field day with that major major response of our contestant? That Ms. Diaz is the reason why your comment was found to be regarded as inadmissible. I wonder how things would have been had we not been colonized and just developed on our own?

_____________________

I turn 53 tomorrow. As the cliché goes, time flies so fast. Two of my children who are now working surprised me yesterday by taking the whole family, including the maid, who is actually considered as a member of the family, to a sumptuous lunch in an Italian restaurant yesterday. Then, they took us to see the movie, Despicable Me. I am a very happy, contented man. I am so proud of my children.

Honor or horror?

2010-08-11T12:33:00.003+08:00

Honor is very important. It must be to any person living in a civilized society. A person without honor is nothing. A person can be a billionaire and be nothing if he/she is devoid of honor. Honor is the credit of distinction given to a person whose life is governed by honesty, fairness and integrity. As such, honor can neither be bought nor sought from anyone. It is freely given to a person worthy of such admiration.

Honor is very important to the Japanese. To them, losing face is the penultimate opposite of honor. In ancient Japan, warriors called samurai lived by a certain code called Bushido, a stern code of ethics one of which was when one is disgraced or loses face, the only recourse was seppuku or what we popularly know as hara kiri, a ceremonial ritual of suicide by ripping the abdomen apart by means of a knife called tanto or a short Japanese sword known as the wakizashi. This is done for the firm belief that death is more honorable than a life in shame. Usually, when the deed is done, an assistant finishes the job by severing the head with the famous katana. While this practice was banned in 1868, there had been cases of seppuku in modern Japan. The last recorded seppuku was that committed by Yukio Mishima, a Japanese writer who wanted to regain the traditions of the past. Traces of this ancient belief still holds true to some devoted Japanese. There was a public official who, on a mere charge of being corrupt, committed the act.

Here in the Philippines, it is totally different. Many politicians have been charged of corruption with a great deal of evidences enough to prove guilt but manage to stay on. No less than GMA, the former president of the Philippines and members of her family have been riddled with corruption charges but still hanged on to power until her reign ended in 2010. She had been charged of having cheated during the elections to which she merely apologized and continued to rule the land. The ousted President Estrada had been found to be guilty of corruption and was even incarcerated but managed to get out by virtue of presidential pardon (maybe to set a precedent so that when her time comes, the present president will have no doubts as to his/her ability to grant such pardon, who knows?)and even ran for the highest position in the land once more.

Such kapalmuks (thick-skinned faced) characteristic is not lost to other government officials. During the SONA of PNoy, he unravelled how much the managers of the MWSS had arrogated themselves almost equal to 30 months pay and building houses on land which should have been used to plant trees. These managers impliedly gave credence to the accusation when they replied that they were willing to cut down on their fat bonuses! This was during a time of the dismal performance of the MWSS to solve the water shortage problem causing havoc in some areas of Metro Manila. Considering the time and place the alleged anomaly was said, they should have resigned immediately at the very least and/or returned what they have allegedly put into their pockets and have their houses demolished just to save face. But no, they were just willing to shave it off. The allegation of plagiarism in the Supreme Court is another noteworthy phenomenon that is enough to lose one's face. Not only did the verdict contained plagiarized items, the same was misused to argue against the very stance the plagiarized portions were written for. How can we teach the young about the evil of plagiarism when the highest court itself is guilty of the crime?

Then there is the office of the Ombudsman. Is spite of the very strong clamor for her to resign or be ousted in office, she continues to cling to her post like a komodo dragon hanging on for dear life. She has been accused on merely sitting on the cases filed against the Arroyos and considering that she was a classmate of the First Gentleman in college, puts a cloud on her inaction or sin of omission. She would declare lack of evidence putting finality on the charges of corruption. Why? I think it would have been more prudent for her to let the cases be heard in court for the sake of the people and, as ironic as it may seem, even in fairness to the Arroyos. If indeed, there had been no anomaly there, so be it. But for heaven’s sake, let the truth come out.

For delicadeza’s sake, she should have resigned from office to erase any and all doubts surrounding her person. Instead, she is hell bent to square it off with anyone who challenges her to date even when her so-called protectors are no longer in office and their allies in congress, the once strong Lakas-Kampi, has been reduced to be the minority.

Incidentally, speaking of the minority, they claim that the Truth commission formed by PNoy is unconstitutional for it is only Congress who can create such a commission. Granting that is true. I say to Congress, form one already!

Honor has been lost to most of these politicians and government officials a long time ago. I am just glad I am not one. I may barely have enough food on the table at times but the food we eat is sufficient to nourish my family and not cause us any ailment for we eat what we earned through hard work. There is honor in that.

What to do

2010-08-03T08:17:00.001+08:00

To the two kind souls who commented on my "What to do" article, I thank you for your words. I did not intend to publish the story and was just using this medium to write down my sentiments and have it transferred into my file. I can't write anything legible anymore since the coming of the computer. :)

May the Lord be with you and let us all have peace in our hearts. Thanks.

All's well that ends well

2010-07-16T09:07:00.008+08:00

I have said more than once that the only reason I keep a blog is to keep my memoirs for the succeeding generations of my family. As I am not a rich man who can leave huge estates to my children, I only have my memories, my thoughts as a legacy for them to know how I lived and how I reacted to things around me hoping it could serve as a guide for them.

That being said, let me narrate the events that happened to me and my wife awhile back. Most of my friends knew about this especially my good friend,
Doc Emer and my nephew, Dr. Manny Glorioso with whom I was in constant communication through the entire ordeal I suffered while this was happening.

Let me narrate it from the very beginning. On May 16, Sunday, my wife was complaining about her tummy, thinking she may have been suffering from diarrhea and/or indigestion. That was a day prior to her one week stay in Batangas for work. She thought she was feeling better the following day, so she went ahead with her assignment and bag in tow, left in the early morning of May 17. Everything was fine until I received a text message from her that Thursday morning that she was not feeling well and was taken to a Tagaytay hospital. There, they ran a few tests and these yielded that she was suffering from LBM and nothing more.

Come Friday, she was still not feeling well. Things got really bad that on May 25, she was accompanied by her sister to St. Luke’s at the Fort to have her examined. She was advised to be confined but since St. Luke’s was fairly new, they could not accept HMO holders. It was then that they decided to go to Medical City. We stayed there for a while thinking she would be out in only a few days. However, the stomach cramps kept on pestering her especially during the wee hours of the morning. It was then that her attending physician decided that she underwent an ultra sound of her abdomen. She did and the result was that she had gall stones and needed to undergo an operation.

She had her operation on the night of May 31st. Thinking that it would be a normal, perfunctory procedure, I went home after seeing her on her way to the operating room, gave her a kiss and left her with my eldest sister who was kind enough to be with her during her confinement as I had to report for work. That night, I was constantly texting my sister to ask how my wife was. Nothing. Until I received a call from her at midnight. She told me that the surgeon requested for her to come down the OR as he had something very important to tell her. Shakily, (who wouldn’t be afraid having to face a surgeon who called for you in the middle of the night to reveal something very important to you?) she went not expecting anything at all. She narrated that the doctor told her that the operation went well and that he had extracted the whole gall bladder off my wife. However, he discovered that there were plenty of fluid in her stomach which could only mean two things: tuberculosis or cancer. As part of the protocol, he probed into my wife’s organs, tried to fill for mass in each one and found nothing. To be sure, he also asked his assistant to do the same for a second opinion. Nothing. So, they closed her up, took out a sample of the fluid for testing.

That morning, I immediately called my nephew who is an oncologist based in Zamboanga. He told me what to expect and asked if they can run a few tests, notably a CA 125, a tumor marker. The good thing about it is that the attending physician, Dr. John Querol, was also an oncologist and luckily, a friend of my nephew. He was the one who took care of my sister, my nephew’s mother, while she was alive. My nephew called him and they conferred and my nephew said he was told that the amount of liquid was minimal (contrary to the surgeon’s claim at this point).

They ran a CA 125 test and my nephew said that if the reading would be more than 80, she may have a tumor in her ovaries. It is needless to say that I was praying hard that the result would be negative. I did not go to work anymore at this time and stayed with my wife hoping and praying that the results would be known in the morning. When the doctor came, I asked for the results and he said it was quite high. I accompanied him on his way out and pressed him to give me the numbers and he said it was 199! My world crumbled as my heart shrunk and pounded but I kept my composure. I immediately texted the information to my nephew and Doc Emer who were continually checking my wife’s condition. Unfortunately, Dr. Querol was already out of the country attending a congress in the US. I could not tell anyone of what I knew at this time as I did not think I have something conclusive. Both my nephew and my friend said that the problem with CA 125 is that it is none specific or something (I forgot the term they used). I could not tell my wife, my sister or any member of her family and most definitely not the children. I felt so alone. Visions of me and my wife getting old together inside a farm house which we could have bought ran through my head. I have always told my wife that part of my dream was to buy a farm in Tagaytay where the weather was to my liking and retire there. I have also thought all these time that I shall go earlier than my wife with my diabetes and all. I never thought that we would be having a problem like this. It was at this point that an OB – Gyne was called and was told that her ovaries were fine. However, it was far from over as my nephew said the ovaries can be tricky.

On Sunday, I texted our friends about my wife’s condition and requested them to come visit her as she was getting lonely. I feared that all these things could make her feel depressed and that was the last thing I wanted to happen. My friends were surprised to find out that we were still in the hospital and immediately were on their way.

That night, she was taken to the CT Scan machine and the following morning was told that the walls between her abdomen and intestine were thickening. This time, a gastro specialist, Dr. Flores, came and told us the details of the results of her CT scan. She had gastro-enteritis and was given two types of anti-biotics. She also suggested that she undergo ultra sound endoscopy. However, since the hospital did not have the machine to do that, she said she will refer us to St. Luke’s in Quezon City.

It was at this time that Doc Emer emailed me in my facebook account of an article in a medical journal about the CA 125. Basically it says that ascitis (fluid in the body) can make the reading of CA 125 go haywire. Now, I had something to hold on to. It was such a relief to find out that the doctors had ordered a repeat of the CA 125 as her tummy's fluid has gone down. God must have listened to my prevent prayers as this time the reading was 31. It was only then that I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. Until now, we do not know what caused the ascitis. It could have been due to the inflammation as a result of the gall stones. Who knows? What we know is that it neither contained microbes nor cancer cells.

My wife was discharged with a little tube connected on her to drain the fluid out on July 7. From then on, we would visit the doctors for check up and everything seems to be good. This morning, we finally went to St. Luke’s for her endoscopy and was told that everything seems to be normal! What a relief!!!!!

Educational crisis?

2010-06-25T10:17:00.003+08:00

Once again, the educational system is facing tough issues it has to solve once and for all. First is the proposal to add more years in high school and the elementary. Second is the controversial introduction of sex education to the young.

As an educator, I think I have to have a stand. Not that it matters that much but I believe we all have to make our voices heard for after all, that is the true essence of a democracy.

I have reservations about the first one. Will adding a year or two solve the dilemma of the students not learning enough? I don’t think so. Adding a few more years will not ensure quality education. What it will do is delay the graduation of the student and make education more inaccessible to the poor. I believe we already have all the subjects to prepare the young for college work. What we do not have is the right formula to make the system work. What we need is to reinvent the educational system. What we need to do is to create a curriculum that will address our needs. Right now, most of the curricula we follow are those created elsewhere. As such, these curricula were made by their framers having in mind their own set of values, the intellect and temperament of their young, thinking that what is true to them is just as true with us.

Still, the curriculum, whatever it is that we shall adopt, is not the root of the problem. The real culprit to our educational system is poverty. To a starving family, the education of its young takes last precedence. The young one has to help the parents eke out a living. The number of out of school youth is increasing each year as more and more Filipino families fall into the depths of poverty. Those who managed to go to school do not have enough resources. They are malnourished and could not think straight because they have other more “important” things to think about. The books the government provides are minimal and are even erroneous.

Public school teachers are underpaid. As such, we cannot attract the brightest to teach the young. Teachers, as a matter of fact, even opt to go abroad and be domestic helpers in order to make both ends meet. There is nothing more pathetic than having an educational force where the blind is leading the blind.

What we should do is eradicate poverty or at least make the poor have at least a decent life. Then, they can dream again for a better future.

As for the second, I think we as adults “know” too much that we fear that what they shall teach the young is what we know. What we have learned so far is from our peers who are in the dark themselves. We fear that the lessons shall be so graphic and lurid that we fear it will turn our young into sex slaves. When I was growing up, since I was brought up in a catholic school, I never knew about the birds and the bees. I was shocked when friends of mine talked about sex. I thought having children was God sent. That it was natural for married couples to have children as they are given freely as a result of matrimony. Needless to say that everybody laughed at me and my ignorance.

Sex education should be taught by the parents. True, but how many among us have taught our children about the birds and the bees? I have no qualms of teaching my boys that but I had to admit, I was very hesitant to talk about it with my daughters. One time, my eldest daughter who was in Grade 6 told me she saw two dogs who were conjoined twins that were attached at both ends. I couldn’t answer and told her to ask her mom instead.

Some people have turned the issue into a question on morality. I have yet to see the modules they plan to teach but I shall give the authorities the benefit of the doubt. I don’t think they shall go into graphic details when they teach the subject. I am thinking it shall be scientific and scholarly and matter-of-factly. Will teaching about sex at an early age make the young promiscuous? I don’t think so. It will still depend upon the upbringing they have at home. Pre-marital sex is happening today and yet these children have never had sex education during their youth. The thing is, they will do it just the same. It is an urge brought about by curiosity, sometimes, it is borne out of rebellion for the parents. There have been teen age marriage that happened because they are not happy inside their own homes and wanted to get out. Of course, that is a generalization and a very bad example to prove a point. However, it does happen. The point is, teaching the young about where they came from will not make them promiscuous or immoral. It is how they shall be brought up and what kind of moral values they shall acquire.

Information should be about imparting knowledge not power. Together with knowledge should be the right to choose and having to choose wisely. Withholding information and telling someone how to live based on what another knows is as immoral as sin. This should be the essence of sex education.

Putting the dirt underneath the rag does not make the house clean

2010-05-13T08:18:00.011+08:00

Rampant cheating and violence have always been the standard in every elections we have had in the past. Philippine elections have always been marred by accusations of fraud and whatever dirty tricks politicians have. Let's face it, cheating is a common staple in Philippine politics.

Can we consider this year's elections as being clean and honest? This is what we are made to believe considering the news reports a day after the elections. We saw candidates conceding after seeing the numbers, something we haven't seen in a long while. Commentators said we have had, thanks to automation, the cleanest elections yet. But do we?

Not if you ask me. Election related death toll of a 112 does not make it clean. It makes it very dirty! How much blood should we spill every election time? This blood letting should come to a close.

The reason why we were so eager to automate the elections is so we can safeguard the sanctity of the ballot. However, as a nation who has undergone the process of selecting its leaders through this process for decades, we should have been old enough to know that cheating does not only happen during the counting. Cheating during the counting is just one way of rigging the results of the polls. Cheating happens even before the official campaign period starts.

Ir is called dirty politics and that we have plenty of. These dirty politicians will have a go of it no matter what the cost. Every warlord who has the "goons, guns and gold" will have all the dirty tricks thrown at the arena even if it means killing whoever stands in the way. Remember the Maguindanao massacre? What about the elections that happened in precincts in the far-flung areas? These are all riddled with anomalies. No, I don't think we had a clean, honest elections. We are still in square one.

For a true democracy to work, the people's voice must be the strongest, not those who prophesied they are God sent or worse, those who will make everything possible so that they can rule for their own benefit.

Of elections and Family Matters

2010-05-05T11:30:00.003+08:00

I don’t know if you have the same feeling I have but it seems like there’s going to be massive cheating this coming elections. We are being prepared now, aren't we? We have been talking about computerization since time immemorial and when we have finally reached the point of no return, the precincts are saying that the machines are giving out wrong computations. During all the prep time? WTF?!?!? Can you imagine the time and money we have spent for this endeavour only to be told a few days prior to Dday that the machines are not reliable after all making some people suggest either postponing the elections or go back to manual counting?

Going back to manual counting is like going back to the middle ages. Computerization is something new and the cheaters probably have not learned of ways to tamper the results effectively. (Hindi kaya ng powers ni Garci to produce 1 million votes for starters) So what is the next best thing for these scalawags to manipulate the outcome of the elections? Make everything possible to prevent the machines from doing the counting. Start putting doubts on the reliability of the machines. I think, more than anything else, that all this fuzz about this malfunction is just a prelude to have each one of us prepared for the mayhem the coming elections shall bring.

On a lighter note, let me just tell you about the latest in the family. That would be more pleasurable to read, I think.

I can't believe it but my kids have really grown up. My eldest daughter just got back from a four-day convention in South Korea for the company where she works as Senior Marketing Specialist. I will have to admire her for her determination. She arrived in Korea at around 5:30 am expecting to be picked up by someone from the hotel or the company. Well, guess what. The ride did not come and as her itinerary says, she has to be at the hotel before 8 am as the convention was going to be transferred to another location where they will stay until 12 then fly to yet another part of the country. Kraiganne has neither been to Korea nor has she travelled on her own. The airport is about an hour ride to the city. But to my delight, I think we've taught her well enough not to just slump on the floor and cry. She managed to get a ride to the hotel and arriving there late, went to the concierge for her to be transported to the next destination of the convention. Well, it took her a hundred US but she survived!

Mickey, on the other hand, has just finished defending his thesis, an interactive program that will teach you how to play the violin, and he aced it. He got a perfect score for his eforts. Well, as he says, rather braggingly, that he just used his charm and handsomeness as all the panelists were women. (the nerve! I wonder where he got that hahahaha.) Anyway, during his defense, he started by playing the violin for the panelists and one of them even quipped "I might fall in love with you" (that twerp, no wonder he can brag about it. Now really, I wonder where he got the kapalmuks). Well, the rest, as they say, is history.

Prior to his defense, he had the guts to apply for a job in one telecompany and got accepted. He was already being asked to sign his appointment papers when he informed the HR officer that he hasn't graduated yet and was just trying to apply to see if he can pass the test. Well, the officer told him that when he graduates, he can come back and if the position is still available, it's his. I don't know if he''s going back there, though, as he is going to another company today for a job interview. I think he submitted his resume to more than one company and is now on the process of choosing which one is the best as all of them responded positively.

Well, I am a proud parent. What can I say? Either indulge me or shoot me.

She's all grown-up

2010-04-27T10:09:00.007+08:00

There was this song from the Stylistics in the 70's I used to listen to and it goes like this: "You're a big girl now, no more daddy's little girl." Just like some of the songs I used to listen to in those days, I was more mindful of the melody than the lyrics. Especially that it was the first time that singing in falsetto was unheard of during the time, I never really felt how strong the words are until last night when I took my eldest daughter to the airport for a convention she was attending in South Korea.

After all the usual reminders of keeping all the papers together and taking care of herself, I gave her a kiss and let her go. I watched her walk towards the entrance toting a big pink baggage in one hand with jacket and hand-carried stuff with the other. It was like watching my baby going away from me. It was then that I knew, she's no longer daddy's little girl. I remember how vulnerable her fragile body was as I carried her in my arms putting her to sleep. I remember how I gave her smelling kisses after she took a bath. I remember her sitting beside me during the first time I drove to school and seeing the relief on her face when we got to our destination. These things made me strong. I had to be as there were young people who needed me to be so. Now, she and the rest of her siblings are all grown up and soon,will have a family of their own and it will be just me and the wife to spend the rest of our lives together.

In the meantime, let me hold my babies for one more time, make them feel that they are loved before I no longer have the strength to even stand on my own two feet.

There is always a silver lining

2010-04-20T07:59:00.009+08:00

April 20 is a very important date for me. Not only is this the day my wife was born, it is also the day we got married. Today, we celebrate our 25th year of being together, our silver anniversary.

A silver lining is a hopeful or comforting prospect in the midst of difficulty. What it means is that in spite of the most difficult situations, there is something beautiful that is hidden beneath the rabbles. The beauty of the desert is that somewhere, it hides a well... (from the Little Prince When I got married after a two-year engagement with my wife, I knew that there would be problems that we have to hurdle as husband and wife. Who does not? But we managed to overcome them. Now, it's twenty five years hence and our relationship is still going strong, thanks to our four children who are barely children anymore, and our enduring love for each other. Now that is the silver lining to our marriage. Problems sure came along the way but we braved the storms together. As a matter of fact, it was almost smooth sailing most of the way from day 1.

My wife and I make a pretty good team. As soon as we knew we were sure to be hitched for life, we started by saving money for our wedding. We opened a joint bank account specifically to spend for it lest we bother other family members about our own private lives. From that time on,after marriage, we embarked on different major projects every year. First was the house where we now live in, then, the car, etc... Last year, we had the house renovated and added more rooms and an upstairs CR. Fortunately, the house was completed before Ondoy. We practically started from scratch and what we have today is the result of our combined perspiration and blood.

Of course, the kids were always a part of the equation. When these guys were still toddlers, we would rent a private pool in Laguna and together with family and friends, celebrate our wedding anniversary there. This was the time when the kids were just learning to swim. Later, when they were about to be teen-agers, our "outings" began to be in farther destinations with a set of friends who were with us since our early years in the university where we both work(ed) (My wife still works there). We have traveled as far north as Pagudpud and way down south to Bicol, Marinduque and Mindoro. These are friends who are considered part of the family. Our children grew up together, slept in one room and spent most of the nights playing games. These escapades were pleasurable silver linings that helped us to be what we are now as a couple.

I must admit, the best silver lining in our marriage is my wife's admirable virtues of tolerance, understanding and piety. There is no other woman who can put up with my mood swings, my temper (I'm not really that bad but I do have these sometimes) and undying support for me. As an artist and a teacher, which unfortunately, do not bring tons of money in the household, she managed to keep me in tow, helped me through hard times, even managed to get me back to school a couple of times to take my masters and another course. But as I am, I always fall short even when I can almost see the finishing line. I know this was upsetting for her but really, I could not finish something I do not find enjoying anymore. That's me. It's all fun and excitement but as intolerable of sadness and sacrifices. We only live once and I want to make the best out of it.

Last night, I have decided that the children are old enough to spread their wings on their own. I have instructed my children to come home early and look after their grandmother as I was taking their mom on a date. Yes, just the two of us. We have not done this in a long time. Everything we did was for the children. It is high time that we do things for ourselves, enjoy each other's company and see the stars, smell the flowers the way they are without any worries at all. I took her to an Italian restaurant in Serendra called Balducci Ristorante to have a quiet dinner. The food was uber delicious! As I am wont to stare at other people, I made sure I did not face anybody but the bar and made sure I did not bring any cigs in my pocket. How's that for discipline, huh? All for the love of my life. For starters, we had a greek salad. Then, I ordered for onion soup which was spectacular! For our main course, we ordered pasta, as usual It was divine!
After, dinner, we took a stroll of Bonifacio High Street, looking at the stores. I asked her if she wanted to go to a spa but she declined. She was good! All these while the children entertained their cousins and titos and titas to a dinner at the house.

As cliche as it may sound, if I were to be given another chance in life, I will seek my wife again and marry her the second, the third time. For it is only she who can make me who I am and see a silver lining in the thickest of clouds.

Listening to the counsel of the years

2010-04-09T20:59:00.005+08:00

One of the perks of being old is the more you get older, the wiser you get. In the eyes of some other people, that is. Well, as I have said in my previous posts, my co-workers are getting younger and younger. Some of them were even my students in high school. Now, we are equals but they still accord me some respect.

As young ones tend to be engaged in matters of the heart, sometimes, I get to be asked questions pertaining to this worthy endeavor. Some are cutesy stories, some are down to earth. I begin to be an expert of some sort although, of course, I am not really as qualified for I do not have that much experience. I have had three girlfriends before I got married and two of those only lasted for a month. My first relationship was when I was thrown by my parents to San Miguel, Bulacan. I was a drop out then and had to repeat my third year of high school. (I was a good student but only when I do study my lessons and I hardly did that). It was during the 70s and it was really hard to be a teen ager in those days. Let us just say it was the age of rebellion and leave it at that. My second was in college. No courting, just got her to go with me to the movie theater and one thing led to another and we were steady after that. I did not expect that relationship to last and it didn't. The third one was the hardest. It hit me hard when she broke off with me. She was very beautiful and very intelligent (of course she was. She broke off with me). Back then, I was never a serious guy. Just drinking and partying all day long.

However, I am not shy with women. As a matter of fact, I am more comfortable with women than with men. I can laugh and be myself even with complete strangers. I have always been around them since my early childhood. Most of my playmates were girls. I still have that trait even to this day. Most of my closest friends are women teachers. I trust them and they, me. Of course, I get the rocks when I kind of shock them a bit. If you know me, you know what I am talking about.

So, it did not come as a surprise when yesterday, a co-teacher of mine confessed that she is having a hard time with her boyfriend. I will not go into the details but narrate the jist of our discussion. After giving a disclaimer that my assessment is purely based on what she has told me and that it could be wrong for I do not know the other person in the story, in summary, this was what I told her:

1. She loves her boyfriend more than he does her. I know the romantics would say that love knows no boundaries. You give yourself completely without any qualms or expecting anything in return. However, that is only true when the other person loves you just as much. We only live on this earth once. Why suffer? Unrequited love is the most painful of all. It takes two to tango. Love is something one does with a partner. Narcissism is the most pitiful state one can be in.

2. When you love something, you let him/her go i have been a staunch believer of this since I have read it someplace I do not recall. You know how it goes. If it comes back, it is truly yours. Well, until this morning while doing the puzzle in Star. You know that cryptic message you decode by substituting the letters to their assigned numbers? I had to stay at the shop for more than 8 hours today because of a car tune-up that has gone sour because I have asked the mechanic what was causing that squeaking noise underneath. It turned out to be a huge job that cost me more than 26K and a 12 hour stay there. What was I to do? I have read the paper from cover to cover, finished the crossword and the unscrambled letters. Surprisingly, the message was the same but with a twist. Some anonymous person wrote, "If you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it does not mean a thing for it just may leave again." How pathetic can that writer be? Anyway, I still say, if you love someone but your love is not reciprocated, better let it go and stop the suffering. It only hurts for sometime but in the end, you learn to heal the wound in your heart. Move on!

3. Nobody deserves a beating in the name of love Unless you are a masochist, there is no point in having your heart trampled upon by anybody. We all deserve to love and be loved. The key is finding the right person for you. As de Quiros would say, "there's the rub". How does one know? You don't. You just keep on praying you'll find that someone. It can be a hit or miss but by jove, you have to find him/her before you get committed. Marriage is lifetime commitment so you better make good judgments in matters of the heart. When I learn of newly formed couples, I always ask, "Have you guys fought already?" The reason being it is no problem when everything's alright. However, things can get ugly sometimes and surely, you will fight. You will have to learn how to do that. You have to know what the other person is capable of doing. How does the other person argue his/her point, does he use gestures or does he/she become very violent?

4. When couples fight and it gets nasty, never involve your relatives This is especially true when married. You wouldn't want to involve, say, your father with your marital problems. You entered into that situation as an adult, deal with it. The problem lies when the relatives become so pissed that they gang up with your spouse. Worst case scenario is it can lead to death. You can just imagine a father wielding a bolo at his daughter's husband because the latter beat her up. Maybe this is because I just watched the Godfather I again the other night. I can still see how mad Santino was upon learning that her brother-in-law beat his sister. Anyway, I think it is more prudent to either go to your friends or better yet, your in-laws first. Should there be no other alternative but to separate, work it out with them first. That is just my opinion, of course.

5. No matter how painful love can be, do not be afraid to love As corny as it may seem, the saying "it is better to have loved and lost than never having to have loved at all" still holds true. Being in love is the sweetest thing that ever happened to me. It will to anyone and we all deserve to be happy.

A goodbye is forever

2010-03-28T08:02:00.006+08:00

Goodbyes are very painful. There is always a finality in its content even if it is not a total goodbye. There is a big difference between a "goodbye for now, see you tomorrow" and one that will take years before being reunited once again with the person. Obviously, there is a big difference between a temporary goodbye and a final one which is a goodbye to someone being lowered to the ground. Just the same, both can be very painful in their own special way.

It is painful because you have already grown accustomed to the person's presence, listened to his/her voice practically everyday, talked and shared ideas with, shown and seen all swing moods, probably even quarreled with him or her from time to time. And in spite of all these, you are still together. Friends are like this. Sometimes, your relationship with your friends is even much deeper than what you have with your own siblings. This is especially true when you spend more time with them than your own family.

Probably the main reason why it is painful is because once someone leaves, that will mean a cessation of what you have got going for you. You are in a comfort zone and suddenly it comes to a halt. If you are like me who has stayed in one work place for so long, you would have experienced being left all the time. You have seen people come and go. You are left in mid-air only to start all over again with a new set of friends. That is what is painful with goodbyes. No matter how long the absence will be, there is a stop to the relationship and you both have to move on, find new friends from among your old and new acquaintances not knowing what the outcome will be. But once you are settled down, life goes on and your once close friend is only good for reunions trying to catch up on old times but it will never be the same again.

Of course a marriage is different. And so is your immediate family. There is a commitment you have sworn to protect, trust and obey. Friendship is not as rigid as this is. You become friends, bond and become together without any ceremonies at all. You just happen to be two or more people who happened to enjoy each others' company and it clicked! And so when its time to say goodbye, it will be painful because it will be forever.

The essence oif youth.

2010-03-23T18:05:00.003+08:00

On Saturday, the school will graduate its Grade 7 and Senior students. Once again, familiar faces I have seen practically everyday will no longer be there. Well, at least for the Senior high school students. We have had some good and rough times, these seniors. I just returned to teaching after a two year stint as a Level Coordinator (a prefect of discipline if you will) and they were freshmen. You know, the awkward stage where they had just jumped out of being a child. They were very young they merely knocking on the doors of their teen years.

I remember the day when I was a high school student. I loved it too much that I took it for five years! Let's not get into the details, though. I think I have said enough. Suffice it to say that the 70's was such an interesting time to be a teen-ager that it was a bit too hard to get out of it. We have just seen the openness and the carefree ways of the hippies, their slogan of "make love, not war", their logo and sign of peace, their music, Woodstock, long hair, jeans, etc. Somehow, their rebellious nature robbed on us Filipinos bringing us into another phase of our history, the much talked about First quarter storm.

But it was not all patriotism. While it is true that there might have been hundreds of students that paid with their lives in the streets of Mendiola fighting against the tyrant, there were those who were just simply joining the bandwagon thinking it was hip (Well, they wouldn't be called hippies for nothing, haha). As a matter of fact, it was just all fad in some sort of way. The original hippies did not take a bath, were true to their motto. We were not like that at all. I shared with my sister's shampoo for one thing. And our Catholic upbringing still prevailed when it came to sex although there were a few who were liberated already at that time.

Nevertheless, I believe that era started the gap between the generations to escalate to high proportions. Children could no longer understand their parents and parents had lost their patience over their children. The men had stopped wearing pomade (you know, that sticky, thick goo you rub on your hair to make it stiff and stay in place the way you want it to) and had their hair longer and longer much to the dismay of their fathers. Fashion began to deteriorate as the "burgis", the elitists, were frowned upon. Of course, the thing that gave our parents nightmares is the fact that it was in this era when the young was introduced to the use of drugs. I remember the time when parents vehemently prohibited accepting anything from strangers, especially candies, for they might be laced with drugs (oftentimes opium) to make an addict out of you and make you their slave. I begin to wonder if these stories were true or they were just rumors spread to stop drug abuse. Anyway, when Martial Law was declared, we all rushed to the barbershop and mended our ways. Well, sort of.

Anyway, enough of my ramblings. The one thing I like about teaching is that it is not your everyday routine job. You deal with different personalities and each one brings something new to you. You get excited every opening of classes as you do not know what is in store for you and you give off a sigh of relief every summer as you put to a close another chapter of the book of life, only to open another one the next schoolyear. You teach but at the same time, learn from your students as well. You make several mistakes along the way but you learn from them. Your students' youth brings you more vitality than you will ever know. I cannot imagine myself being tied to a desk pushing papers or doing accounting work. I have to meet people, talk to them, argue, comment and ask questions. I have to play with them, jam and sing along with them. I know it is my time to pack my things when I can no longer keep up. But right now, I am still at the top of my game.

l'ecrit contre le mot parle

2010-03-20T14:58:00.004+08:00

My friend and colleague who teaches high school philosophy in my school shared to me that one of their lessons is the difference between the written and the spoken word. Somehow, I found it interesting to write about since I am just idly sitting in front of the computer thinking of what to write. Hmmm, a brain exercise.

It takes two to communicate. There is the giver and the receiver of the message. How they come in agreement as to what the message is is practically dependent on the ability of both to play the roles they have in this kind of endeavor. While there can be many receivers to listen to a message, it would be chaotic to have more than one delivering it at the same time. Just the same, these receivers will sometimes have different understanding of the message they have just heard. So, basically, communication can be a very hard, it can even get frustrating at times.

Many will argue that in order to communicate well, one should know the right grammar, correct subject-verb agreement, tenses, etc. and going even further, syntax and semantics of a certain language. Again, this is dependent on the ability of the giver to make his message come across with nary a problem. But is this all there is to it? While it is true that these are very important, one can still communicate even with very minimal knowledge of a language. I think tourists in any land can manage to be understood, albeit with extreme difficulty, to get his/her message across using signs and symbols, and still get what he/she wants in the end if confined only to the very basic. When we went to Korea, most of the people we met did not speak English. So too were the store signs. But we managed to get by especially with a little help from the guide who even taught us how to haggle. The day we were to go home, the itinerary was to go to a famous theme park but knowing that I will have to spend more than I can afford (again), I opted to stay in the hotel. Come lunch time, I went out to look for a restaurant. I was shocked that none of the menus was written down in English. So what was there left? I pointed! I saw someone eating and pointed to her food, showed her money to ask how much and we understood each other. Whether I was taken for a sucker and paid more than I should have is totally a different story of course. But nevertheless, I was able to buy me some food.

The complexity of communication does not end there. There is the difference between the spoken and the written word. Which do you think is more effective in getting your message across? Is it the written text or the spoken word? Which would you prefer? I say it will depend on two things. Again, the ability of the participants and the message itself.

The written word is more permanent. One can store the paper on which the message is written and have it re-read numerous times until one has memorized its contents. This is the reason why when we deal with legal issues, we have to have them written down. This is called evidence. It will be very hard to deny what you have written down. The good thing about the written is that you have the time to edit and revise the piece before you send it out. In so doing, you have a well thought out piece (supposedly) which you have crafted to perfection at least from the point of the giver of the information. But more often, the receiver would want to react, clarify or make a comment. This makes the written word basically a one way communication until a response has been received.

The spoken word is a fleeting exercise and passes very quickly. This gives the speaker a chance to deny and swear by the grave of his/her great great great grandparents what he she has just uttered. Of course we have the tape recorder but sometimes, they can be inaudible. But then again, this can also when a piece of writing is done in a manner that can hardly be read. My handwriting is a classic example. When I learned how to use the computer, it seems like I have thrown my handwriting down the drain. I can hardly read my own handwriting.

The problem with the written word is that it does not contain life. It does not bear intonations, speech patterns of the speaker and the facial expressions that go with it. These are very important aspects of communication for they also convey meaning. A single word that would look benign on paper would have a different meaning with the tone by which it has been uttered. Of course, writing has developed exclamation points and question marks but then again, these are very limited.

"Punching Bag" Clottey

2010-03-14T18:27:00.004+08:00

I had from time to time watched rodeo games on tv. You know, those cowboys trying to overcome either a horse with a tantrum or a raging bull. I do not exactly know the rules of the game but I've figured out several things by just watching the game. Basically, the rider should stay on the animal for a given time before the latter throws him off its back. And yes, I can feel the rider's aching body once the animal manages to throw him and trample him with either its weight or its horns, whatever the case may be. Lastly, I know that it would be the biggest disappointment for a rider to learn that the animal will not try to even jump but just run. I think it's either called a buffer, an animal that is easy to ride, rope or throw, or it's what they call a blooper, an animal with very, very, little bucking ability that jumps and kicks or just runs around the arena. Maybe someone who is more adept with the game can correct me. Whatever it is, that was what Clottey was during the event that saw him pitted with Philippine Champ, Manny Pacquiao.

Just like the other Pacquiao games, I and my brother-in-law watched the game live on a pay per view location. Just like any other game, we went to the place early to get good seats. You can just imagine our disappointment when Clottey, just like a blooper, did not give a good fight but just stood there willing to be Pacquiao's punching bag. We could hear his coach/trainer saying "We're losing all the rounds" or "You gotta throw some real punches." It was a no contest bout. I was hoping he was just reserving his power till the end. I was kind of expecting he'd show his real strength by the eight round for after all, he does throw a mean right. But lo and behold, he was just like that till the end. And to think I have not had any sleep at all and had been a very bad parent to my daughter last night. But that's another story which I would narrate some other time, if and when I manage to have the guts. Suffice it to say that my gnawing conscience is bothering me a lot at this time.

On getting old

2010-02-24T20:29:00.004+08:00

Getting old never dawned on me until about a year ago. I thought I was still a teenager even if I already have four teen-agers of my own. My body just refuse to believe that the pain on my waist at night, the number of pills I have to take for diabetes, white hair on my balding head, or even the lines on my forehead tell me that I am old. Why should I? I still have friends much younger than I am and I can still do what they can do. I can still relate to their stories and they can with mine. I can still stay with them until the wee hours of the morning, exchanging useless banter over beer or any other beverage there was. Yes, they don't call me by my first name like they do with their peers but that was okay. They call me tito and I didn't mind. I liked the monicker anyway having nieces and nephews who are fond of me anyway. Besides, a lot of people call me that way when I started this blog. Never did it dawn on me that I was old.

But time does not stop for anyone. No matter how slow the hour hand crawls on the clock, it reaches the time for us to go home from work. This is just like our lives but on a grander scale. I realized I do not live in a warp zone where I can stop aging while everybody continue to do so and play catch up. I cannot be happy man without having a true friend. There has to be someone I can talk to without any qualms, share my thoughts, tell naughty stories to and basically, hang out with. In my line of work, especially with the economy on the downtrend, teachers, like nurses, are lured by green bucks. The turn over of workers have been steadily getting higher and higher. As it did with my friends. Some of them have migrated abroad, some had married and resigned. Eventually, all my friends have moved on and I was left behind.

My co-workers keep on getting younger and younger. The gap has never been this far apart. I could not believe that some of them were just born when I started working. To make matters worse, I was again asked to handle an administrative position. That was the icing on the cake. Now, everybody calls me Sir. Friends are hard to come by when there is this huge gap between you and the next person. While the difference in age is already a huge boulder to climb, the position added a wall. Suddenly, the songs I use to sing are ancient. The jokes I used to tell no longer get the same response. Well, there are times when I couldn't get their humor either. The invitations to a lunch out, or hang out at the mall has been practically nil. I am now at the threshold of calling it quits with the institution that nurtured me, simply because I have to accept the fact that I will soon become irrelevant. The tell tale signs are there.

But then, why should I feel this way? I feel this is a very defeatist attitude on my part. MAybe it is because I had been resisting the movement of my clock. Why don't I just let it move and go with its flow and see where it takes me? Maybe if I did that, I would learn to accept that things have changed and I have to adjust just one more time. Maybe, just maybe, I will learn to age with grace. If I learn to do that, then maybe retirement will not be the end but the start of a new era in my life. When that happens, let's see who has gone old!

An unfathomable conundrum

2010-02-15T21:27:00.004+08:00

Once again, death stares me at the face. I just visited my old boss who retired about ten years ago. He is 76 gone to 90. His dignity lost, he is reduced to a decrepit,sickly man suffering the pains of a failing liver. We had such happy days together. We would go for a drink or two after office hours together with friends. There was even a time when he sparingly wrote a note to my wife saying I was with him until the wee hours of the morning. My brother-in-law had a good laugh over that "parental" letter one usually submits to a teacher lest the student gets into trouble.

The house that saw big parties, flowing with alcohol and food enjoyed by guests coming from all over is just as old. I have spent many happy moments there. My eldest daughter's baptismal party was celebrated there. The house was a very happy one. He was on top of the world and that was his kingdom. His royal subjects knelt before him, shivered even at his most benign commands. The house is almost dilapidated now and so is its king. Anywhere you look, the house where little boys used to run and roam, where you heard roosters were kept in a coop crowed, with the garage where we played mah jongg or whatever game it was we could play is just as lonely, needing more care from its owners. He couldn't even utter an understandable voice to say what he wanted.

Such is the way of the world. We reach the top of the world and plummet back to earth in the end. I just hope I never get to experience the pain of having to suffer a decline that would rob me of my dignity where someone else has to wash my behind or feed me in a tube.

If only to console me and my boss' family and friends, he has lived a full life and I don't think he is sorry for what he has become. It is my fervent prayer that with his memory almost gone, he is just as oblivious to the pain.

God's Trick

God tricked me.
He gave me time
that does not stop
for anything. Just like
a snail that crawls
ever so slowly
from one point to another,
it reaches its destination
no matter how far
or what obstacles hurled
along its way.

God tricked me.
He gave me youth
to squander and abuse
so that I
can lay in my death bed,
inutile, suffering the pain
of an ignominius state,
devoid of all the dignity
I used to possess.

God tricked me.
He gave me strength
so that I can waste it away
and harm myself.
Reduced to decadence,
I am decaying even before
I am dead.

God tricked me.
He gave me friends
I cannot keep.
They will be there
for a while
only to return
living their own lives.

God tricked me.
He gave me the gift of life
only to take it anytime
He pleases. Gifts should
be for keeps
and so it is with God’s
little trick.

rolly

PS.
My boss passed away this afternoon, February 16. Please join me in praying for the eternal repose of his soul.

Chameleon Angels

2010-02-03T07:44:00.001+08:00

Sickening platitudes
cacophony of campaign jingles
float the air again
in a jungle
covered with huge pictures
of yellow, red, orange, green.

Promises of paradise
a litany of more jobs

lower taxes

medical assistance

food

shelter

thank you heaven
for these angels!

"Don't forget my name,"
the saintly statesman shouted.

Chameleons are better.
They only kill what they eat.

Politicians are parasites
feeding on our sweat
until we have no more to shed
but blood.

I wonder where
they got their butterfly wings
and halo. How do they hide
their horns and tail?

It's a game we play
with angels
from hell.

rolly

freelance writers needed

2010-01-19T12:14:00.000+08:00

FREELANCE WRITERS WANTED

An upcoming Philippine-based online lifestyle magazine, is seeking freelance writers to be part of its first and future publications.

For those interested, please refer to the application guidelines, which follow:

1. Applications will be accepted from all writers, both professional and amateur.

2. Submit your resume, along with two articles between 400 and 600 words in length, focusing on beauty, fashion, health and wellness, or travel. Previously published articles will also be accepted for assessment (please indicate the name and date of publication).

3. Feel free to explore several article formats (straight paragraph form, list form, use of subheadings, etc.) that can best communicate the message and supplementing elements. Original supplementary photographs are more than welcome.

4. As much as possible, articles must include a list of products, establishments or other similar resources that may supplement the main topic.

5. All articles must be in English, and must come with an original title. Please observe the double-space format.

6. Plagiarism will IN NO WAY be tolerated. Every submission will be thoroughly verified for originality. External references must always come with in-line citation.

7. Writers accepted for the freelance positions will be notified, will receive their own byline, as well as their own writer’s profile page which will feature all their articles published on the online magazine. A P250 per article remuneration also awaits successful applicants (the rate will increase in due time).

8. Send all submissions to editor.gablifestyle@gmail.com. Articles must be sent in either .doc or .pdf format, and must include the writer’s full name and/or nom de plume (pen name), email address, contact details, and a short biography.

Think outside of the box

2010-01-06T08:41:00.003+08:00

The school is undergoing its third PAASCU accreditation and the whole place is once again busier than a beehive with everyone abuzz with a flurry of activities as superiors breathe on everybody’s back. It is certainly not a walk in the park. It is quite ironic that to prove you had the best of times, you have to suffer the worst first. Not a single soul wants to be left behind hence you see everyone brushing up on their wares to shiny perfection, honing his/her skills and keeping up with the latest trends in education lest he/she be the weak link in a chain of master educators.

Lately, one of the buzz words in education is critical thinking. Many educators unabashedly mention critical thinking as the main component in their lessons if only to give relevance and credence to what they offer to their students. A lot of seminars have been conducted about this topic as its importance is unparalleled. However, if we review the learning plans, (a nomenclature that has been invented to show that traditional education is progressing with the times) of teachers, how many do you think would yield that the lessons attached therein manifest critical thinking?

What is critical thinking in the first place? Given a piece of information in the form of observation, experience, reflection, reasoning or communication that needs a response or a course of action as a stimulus, what is the best way to deal with it? Educational pundits say we should teach children how to use critical thinking. Michael Scriven and Richard Paul made a working definition of critical thinking as the intellectually disciplined process of actively and skilfully conceptualizing, applying, analyzing, synthesizing, and/or evaluating information gathered from or generated by observation, experience, reflection, reasoning, or communication, as a guide to belief and action. Now, that is quite a mouthful, isn't it? To better understand, let us break the definition in segments. Critical thinking involves intellectual capacity. As such, relying simply on our instincts is not critical thinking as we have to use our brain to process information for it to be so. This we are able to do because it is a discipline resulting from constant practice and continued use. As such, the intellectual capacity should have been trained to act accordingly to a set of rules or undergo a certain process composed of steps to be undertaken in order to be whole. These steps are:
1. conceptualize – forming a certain idea about what a piece of information is all about;
2. apply – knowing that a piece of information or stimulus has a purpose and knowing what its purpose is, then apply to life;
3. analyze - dividing information up into categories and subcategories (and) selecting things that are the more important aspects, and solving them first
4. synthesize – organizing, constructing, composing, and creating your finished result; and lastly,
5. evaluate –looking back and assessing how a course of action regarding a certain stimulus has been dealt with.

With this process, one might think it has to be a long arduous task. There’s the rub. While we have to put our thinking caps on, we have to do the process involved in a jiffy making it look like as if we were reacting instinctively or by simple reflex. That is critical thinking in its highest form.

Now comes the question of what is the best way to teach children to think critically? There is no sure answer as each individual is different as it is different for all the disciplines taught in school. However, one thing is certain. Teaching critical thinking has to be done with a lot of creativity - another buzz word going around the academe for the longest time as it is still very vital in the teaching profession.

I had been trying to catch up with my reading in education when I chanced upon an article in the Educational Leadership entitled Why Creativity Now? A Conversation with Sir Ken Robinson with Amy M. Azzan (September 2009. Vol. 67. No. 1 pp. 22 -26) lying on my table waiting to be read. Amy Azzam wrote:

Creativity: It’s been maligned, neglected, and misunderstood. But it’s finally coming into its own. .. Sir Ken Robinson makes the case for creativity as the crucial 21st century skill we’ll need to solve today’s pressing problems.

Sir Ken who led the British government’s 1998 advisory committee on creative and cultural education and was knighted in 2003 for his achievements observed that people see creativity and critical thinking as being opposed partly because people associate creativity with being totally free and unstructured. The reason for this misconception is due to the notion that creativity only applies to the arts, i.e. painting, literature, music, etc. which are disciplines open to spontaneity and freedom of expression. However, creativity is defined as doing things differently using original ideas that have value. The operant words here are different, original and of value. As such, teaching can be as creative and very productive when used with creativity.

Why do we need to be creative?

Alvin Toffler, an American futurologist who wrote Future Shock and The Third Wave in the 70’s predicted that a super-industrial society shall emerge out of the industrial age bringing out a complete structure change which will overwhelm society. Toffler is neither a prophet nor an average fortune teller who bases his predictions on the movement of the stars or the clouds inside a crystal ball but someone whose predictions rely on trends as he observes them. That era of structure change is now. We are at a threshold of a new world order where our lives shall be governed by recent developments in technology which has changed drastically and at a very fast rate. He coined the term information overload which refers to an excess amount of information being provided, making processing and absorbing tasks very difficult for the individual because sometimes we cannot see the validity behind the information. This is what we do not want our children to experience. We might be overloading them with information that they begin to get bored as they don’t find these data relevant and of consequence.

Sir Ken said, ...we were told that if you worked hard, went to college, and got a regular academic degree, you’d be set for life. Well, nobody thinks that’s true anymore, and yet we keep running our school systems as though it were. How many graduates who landed in a job totally different from what they have studied are there? We have placed too much emphasis on education that parents would skip meals, work doubly hard and make sacrifices just to be able to send their children to school. We graduate students by the thousands every year only to be misplaced due to a mismatch of the market and what they have learned in school. Because we have an overabundance of graduates, corporations now have the luxury of hiring people with at least a college education even for menial jobs. There will come a time when they will require for a complete college diploma for cleaning the toilet.

With the advent of an age where information can be had at the click of a button, there will come a time when a school as we know it will be different. Students shall no longer be confined in a four-walled space together with several others but shall be alone in a virtual classroom located inside their house where they learn at their own pace, taught by probably a virtual teacher and a module designed to teach a specific lesson. This phenomenon has started. There are parents who opt for homeschooling than the traditional education we got before. There are interactive lessons one can use to learn about something. As a matter of fact, some teachers I know use these sites as a take off for their lesson. Considering that the concept is relatively new, there will come a time when interactive sites like these can and will replace the teacher. These sites were made to be very interesting that one gets hooked from the very start. They are replete with wonderful, attractive colors, beautiful presentations, clearly thought out messages, etc. that will make one bite hook, line and sinker - all the more reason for us in the academe to be creative with our lessons and make learning a truly worthwhile experience. Follow these simple rules next time you make your learning plans:

Dare to be different- a teacher who has been teaching a subject in the same way he/she has been taught or in the same manner as others have taught it for so many years is not being creative. Such a teaching style is as predictable as the rising of the sun at the east in the morning. At least, with regard to the weather, the sun may not show in case of rain. But a teaching style that is predictable would lose its essence and children will anticipate the lesson, be contented with “tips” given by an older brother/sister or friend, and are more likely to abandon critical thinking. Worse is if the style being used has been rendered obsolete and one didn’t know about it. Teaching involves continued learning. This can be done not only by enrolling in a graduate school but also through education of one’s self through research and reading.

Come up with original ideas - teaching styles that have been copied elsewhere is not only unoriginal, but such a style may not be within the milieu or experience of the learner. Often, we read books designed to cater to western thought, viz., American, with its cultural slant/biases, nuances in language and moral fabrications. The learner will have a hard time learning something that is far from his/her own experiences.

Find valuable lessons - who would care whether what you’ve done is unique or not if it does not hold any merit at all? So, you’ve invented a hundred ways to strike a match. So what? Students will never see the relevance of the topic at hand if they cannot see the practical use of why such a lesson should be learned.
Sir Ken added, (M)ost original thinking comes through collaboration and through the stimulation of other people’s ideas. Nobody lives in a vacuum. Sometimes, ideas come unexpectedly. It is sparked by something while you eat, talk to strangers, interact with students and co-teachers. Keep your eyes open to new ideas gathered from listening to others while they narrate their experiences, their dreams and aspirations.

Eureka! is a term said to have been shouted by Archimedes upon discovery of something significant. Who knows, in our pursuit of well-written, well-thought-out learning plans, there will come a day when we will be shouting eureka!

References:
Why Creativity Now? A Conversation with Sir Ken Robinson with Amy M. Azzan (September 2009. Vol. 67. No. 1 pp. 22 -26)
http://lonestar.texas.net/~mseifert/crit2.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alvin_Toffler
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Information_overload

note: this article appeared in Sinag-Berde (The institutional newsletter of our school) p.11 - 13, vol.12, issue no. 2, SY2009 -2010)

Goodbye 2009

2009-12-31T04:26:00.002+08:00

Once again, another year shall have passed and my words still have to "fork lightning" so I guess I will have to "rage, rage against the dying of the light!" Time is of the essence now as I am nearing the fourth quarter of my life. It is the end game and it is time to bet all my marbles.

My problem is I have too many interests! From where I stand now, it looks like one interest stands in the way of making the other stand out and make me really good at it. So, based on that, while practically all of my interests had made men famous, none of these will make me one. Sure, I thought of being rich or famous one day but I shall play the cards I have been dealt with. There is nothing wrong with a life that is simple and uncomplicated when the return is happiness.

Happy New Year to all.

paintings for canada

2009-12-27T21:20:00.007+08:00

My watercolors ---

These paintings are bound for Toronto

Property of Mr. and Mrs. Espiritu

Wala lang magawa

2009-12-10T14:33:00.003+08:00

Pasyong Mahal Ni San Jose

Pait, katam at martilyo,
ibubulong ko sa inyo
ang masaklap kong sikreto:
hindi ko pa inaano
ay buntis na ang nobya ko.

Ang sabi ng anghel, wala
akong dapat ikahiya,
walang dahilang lumuha;
dapat pa nga raw matuwa
pagkat Diyos ang gumahasa.

Martilyo, katam at pait,
makukuha bang magalit
ng karpintero? Magtiis.
Ang mahina at maliit,
wala raw laban sa langit.

--Jose F. Lacaba

The poem starts as an address poem as it murmurs to the pait, katam at martilyo which represent an artist’s tools used to mould life into his works. Works that had been continuously been misused, dictated upon and bereft of their true value as they have been serving the pleasures of a despot.

The poem is obviously a protest against the dictatorship of the Marcos tandem, the gods in Philippine soil during the 70’s. Using St. Joseph and his ordeal upon hearing the news that his fiancée was pregnant albeit the absence of carnal knowledge as a metaphor, the poet illustrates the carnage wrought by the Marcos government of the country’s economy and most of all, the pillage of Philippine culture as has been managed and manipulated by the self-professed patroness of the Arts, Imelda.

The third stanza talks about the crony or puppet, who, with his gift of gab, appeases the artist and not complain and on the contrary, be thankful because the gods has bestowed their blessings to his art.

The fourth stanza is inevitable. The lowly artist cannot do anything but to suffer for after all, beggars cannot choose but succumb to the will of the mighty.
While the poem was directed towards the seventies, it is interesting to note that this can still happen in a country where people who has arrogated to themselves the power of the gods, rule the affairs of government. A few years back, the National Press Club received flak for its censorship of a painting they themselves commissioned to celebrate press freedom in the country. They commissioned neo-Angono artists to make a mural but later on asked someone else to make alterations on the mural prior to its inauguration as they found several objectionable details which they thought were critical of PGMA and her policies in government.

Unfortunately, Lacaba’s poem will always be relevant as long as we have people whose myopic views only allow pictures that will not leave a sour taste in their sour-infested mouths. The poem will always be relevant in a land governed by people who govern by might and not by mind for always, the arts will be there to question, open the eyes of those who remain sleeping in the dark.

If man's justice fails, God will surely take over.

2009-11-24T20:01:00.007+08:00

I condemn to the highest degree the massacre that happened in Maguindanao yesterday. It is an act of barbarism and utter cowardice that armed men, reportedly numbering to a hundred, would viciously attack unarmed people, rape the women and behead their helpless victims. These people are a disgrace to the Filipino, who albeit living in dire straits, has, since time immemorial, proved his tenacity to uphold his dignity through honest perseverance and hard work. Too bad, that living with him are goons of politicians who seem to live during the stone age when a woman can be had by pounding her head with a staff. There is no honor in getting what you want through sheer force. On the contrary, there is too much honor in even a lost battle but fought hard through intelligence, patience and perseverance.

What these barbarians did was an act of treachery to the Filipino and to the entire nation. They do not deserve to live in a civilized world where open minds and liberal ideas should prosper. May the wrath of the Lord bestow upon them and their tribes.

Erap(tion)

2009-11-03T15:01:00.004+08:00

I will never understand how a lawyer works. It seems like no matter what the law says, lawyers will always find a way to get around it. This boils down to the best lawyer being the one to find the solution to the hardest problem at hand. The one who could be sleazy enough to take you out of the tightest situation. And we're only talking about fair being fair. No bribes or relatives or fraternity brothers working on the sides.

This thought has been sparked by the insistence of Erap to run for the highest position in the land once more. If an ordinary man was to read the law, it is plain and simple. He cannot run again for that office. However, his lawyers argue that the provision in the constitution does not apply to him as he was not able to finish his term, blah blah blah. Ironically, I believe that is the ultimate reason why he can't. If I remember my history correctly, the provision was made to prevent a bad president from staying in office and do more damage. This was done to prevent another Marcos from re-assuming office and using the powers of the same to remain for a very long time, which Marcos actually did using his constitutional mumbo jumbo.

I know as much that when the law is ambiguous and there is uncertainty as to its interpretation, we look back at the framers of said constitution and try to find the spirit behind the law. To me, the spirit behind the prohibition is for elected presidents not to run for office again, whether they did well or not, lest we are stuck with a very bad president. It never said anything about whether or not such term was completed. It says "elected". We only have to remember that the present constitution was made right after the ouster of strongman Marcos and that it was done in fear of history repeating itself. How could that be hard to understand?

Was Erap a bad president? Erap was ousted from office because the people believed he was not a good one. As a matter of fact, the court has decided, with finality, that he used public funds to enrich himself. He was incarcerated for plunder and was only given, for whatever reason it serves the present President, pardon. How can he run for office and aspire to be re-elected? He said to let the public be the judge thinking that the masa that supported him before will do so again. He must have a short memory but I remember it was the public who went out of the streets to oust him.

Strange huh?

coming home soon!

2009-10-21T19:06:00.005+08:00

The good news is that we are all finally coming home this weekend. My wife reported to me that the water have subsided in our area and is now passable. I can bring my car to and from school, yey!!!

As I am wont to do, I do not complain but try to find something good in everything that happens to me. What is it that I can find good in having to stay in another place for weekdays and get to see my family only during weekends?

How about staying in a mansion by your lonesome? I have a room which is almost as big as the entire second floor of my house. And since my school is just walking distance away, I do not have to contend with the terrible raffic at SLEX, plus the savings on gasoline and toll fees which when added up could be about almost three thousand a week. That's huge savings, isn't it?

With regard to my children, we have never bonded as much as the weekends we stayed in Antipolo. Why? Simple. There is no internet connection available. While we can use a wireless connection, we still have to go to the office and do computer work (play, in the case of my kids) which is kind of a trouble as we will have to ask the master of the house to open the offices and turn on the wireless network. While we can ask to work there during office hours, we don't as we will only get in the way, of course. There is no cable tv available in the area as well. While we do have dvd's, for some reason or another, we didn't watch anything at all. So with that set up, what else is there to do but play with the children. I play texas hold'em poker with my boys, my brother-in-law who is our host and his two boys. The girls are doing something else with their mom or their tita, but they are just nearby. Surprisingly, we end up at the wee hours of the morning just playing poker! Lately, my brother-in-law, as generous a host as he can be, had his darts, which he had for a long time but never set it up, put up on the patio and there, we play darts even with the girls. What fun was there to be had.

Lastly, I have learned that I have a lot of friends who are all willing to help me when I need it. What joy is there to know that there are people who are willing to sacrifice just so you do not suffer. While we were really not what we can consider as hapless victims considering the plight of others who really lost a lot, help came pouring in just the same even as far as Canada. Trudy, daughter of my good friend, Arlene who passed away on December 22, 2006 was frantic when she learned from the news about what was happening in Manila. Without hesitation, she wired money to us knowing that we were going to have to do some repairs to the house and whatever we would need to surpass this recent tragedy that befell the country. Consider it as a gift from mom, she said. That brought tears to our eyes as Arlene was a very generous friend and for her daughter to continue such act of kindness is overwhelming. Her brother, Stephe, too, asked what kind of assistance we would need. I assured him that we are okay.

Of course, the Brother President of my school has offered cash incentives to those who were affected by Ondoy. Allowing me access to the house of the Brothers is more than enough help I can get.

There are also those who would sacrifice some discomfort just to make my life easier. There is this teacher who volunteered to have her maid do my laundry. She adamantly asked for my clothes and so I ended up giving her my uniform. This is a lot of help as I will have to carry a lot of things in my bag to join my family on weekends. There's another teacher with whom I ride till Ugong where I can get a cab on my way to Antipolo. Big things and little things mean a lot when you are in distress. And these I got from this experience. We are truly blessed!

Updates

2009-10-12T21:04:00.003+08:00

If you have been following the news, you would know that Pasig is still with water up to now. This does not come as a surprise as I have known that serious flooding like this happens to our place every 8 or 9 years as claimed by those who are native to the place. Well, I recall having gone home on a banca one late night in 1988. We were living in the place for just a couple of months and I had to stay late in what was once Rizal Theater as we were staging South Pacific at the time. I came home drenched from the rain and to my surprise could not find the usual tricycles plying the streets. Then I was told that the water level at the municipal hall where I should pass through going home was waist high. I did not know what to do as I was tired and all I had in mind was go home. I walked several blocks and found a banca with a load of about six or seven people in it. I asked the boatman if he can deliver me to my place and he said, yes.

The flooding happened again after several years. I failed to count how many as one does not record these experiences in full detail. Suffice to say that we managed to block the experience hoping we have seen the last of it. Anyway, during the second time, all my children were of school age and ride with me to and from school. As it would be very hard for us to ride the "boat" everyday, my wife and I decided to find a place where the children can go in the meantime. My eldest was forced to live in her best friend's house, my two boys in another nearby subdivision while I and my third child had to live with a family friend. This lasted for about a month, as usual.

So, on that Saturday while Ondoy was giving a lashing out its fury of torrential rain and my maid who had to buy something at the store reported that the water was already knee high just a few blocks away, I knew it would be flooding season again. What I was not expecting was for the water to reach the house. When I saw that the relentless rain won't be stopping anytime soon, I already had the good sense to move the car to higher grounds. When the water was about three inches at the gate, I decided it was time to move the furniture to a higher level. My efforts had not been in vain for the water did come to my house. The house was soaked to about eight inches of water. Any higher and it would have ruined our sofa. My siblings who are now occupying the house my parents built in Marikina did not fair as well. The water inside the house was about two feet deep and a lot higher at the road.

On Wednesday, after cooking food while our feet were soaked in murky water and delivering the food upstairs, we decided to move out. The water was beginning to smell and I had occasion to see a dead rat, bloated and floating on the water. We moved to a shoe factory in Antipolo owned by my sister in law's husband. The water level there was much higher but at least we are at the fourth floor where the house is. We stayed there until Sunday while thinking of where to stay in the next weeks while classes shall have been opened.

My daughters now live with a family friend's daughter's condo unit in Makati, the youngest lives in his friend's house while Mickey stays with another family friend. I had been given permission to live in a house recently acquired by the school. I live here by my lonesome. We reunited last weekend in Antipolo and returned to our temporary stations. This will have to be our arrangement until the water in our place have subsided.

Don’t tell me we’re doomed!

2009-09-30T21:43:00.005+08:00

It's a little late but I have to do a follow-up of my last post. My wife and two boys arrived in batches the following day, Sunday. They braved the waist high flood to reach the house. Mickey, who was supposed to go to Bulacan Saturday was stranded at Osmeña Blvd., Nitz stayed at the University, and Coby stayed with a friend's friend's condo unit.

Since then, love has been coming our way. While I believe we do not really need relief at this time, friends have been coming and offering help. Mickey's friends at the orchestra came and gave us a gas tank, a sack of rice and other goodies Monday brought to us by his friend, Bob Brillante and his friend. This morning, my eldest's company, represented by their HR gave out several donations, too. I also received a message from Trudy and Stephe, Arlene's children, offering help. We all had a tear in our eyes when Trudy said "consider it as a gift from mom!" Arlene is by far the most generous person I have ever known and now, even her children are showering us with so much. I don't know if I can even reciprocate such friendship. While we do need some supplies are these were about to be depleted soon, we plan to share our blessings to relatives who have been victims of the calamity. My siblings in Marikina, for one, needs help I'm sure, although they have not asked for anything at all. My wife's brother's house was also heavily inundated.

It’s been days since typhoon Ondoy struck Luzon and still the country is barely able to address the pressing demands for relief for the victims. And to think typhoon Ondoy did not hit Manila in its full intensity. It was just a signal number two alert. As a matter of fact, CHED never called off classes relying on PAGASA (which also means hope in tagalog or the lack thereof) saying that it wasn't a full blown typhoon yet. The downpour was very heavy though that the clogged flooding system in the city just cannot contain the onslaught of water. We have known this to be a fact since the seventies and still we have not done anything. Squatters still live miserably along river banks, the river is still plagued with the city’s debris of chemicals and toxic wastes. However, we cannot blame this malady to just the squatters alone but the whole Filipino populace as well. We have been complacent and passive. To say the least, we had it coming. We have known the benefit of proper garbage disposal, segregation of waste, the ill effects of using styrofoam and plastic but we do not heed. No matter what we say, people are still wantonly throwing their wastes irresponsibly. We still think that laws are made for others while we are exempt from it.

Let’s face it. Manila is not ready to face a calamity. We rely heavily on the private sector to aid us in the most trying of times. Government do not have the capability to address a major catastrophe. Too bad for we are situated in a land where calamities are wont to strike anytime. We lie in a very unsteady earthquake belt and typhoon infested zone and yet we do not do anything about it. It would interest you to see what I discovered in facebook.

I saw a video clip of a committee hearing the impeachment complaint being railroaded by the majority members.

A home without the comforts of a house: Typhoon Ondoy

2009-09-28T06:37:00.003+08:00

(I wrote this on my laptop while Typhoon Ondoy was still pouring in more rain)

When we moved to this house in 1988, there was a big flood. It stayed for a month and we had to ride a banca to and from the house. It was too late for us to back out as we have already started paying the mortgage and there’s nowhere else to go.

They told us flooding happens in this part of the city every 8 years or so. I would not be surprised for after all, the river’s delta is just a stone’s throw away although one cannot realize this to be so for the river’s view is blocked by houses and other commercial edifices. But that was okay. Our house is spared from inundation. In my years of experience living here, our place was like a tiny island surrounded by brown, murky, filthy water that was knee-high. The municipal hall which was about two hundred meters away would have floods that reached the neckline. We have had this flood two more times ever since. We had to ask friends from the south to take the kids in for just a while until the flooded streets subsided. Kraiganne who was then in sophomore high, had to stay with her best friend in Ayala Alabang. The boys had to stay with Mickey’s best friend while Kim and I slept with our family friend’s family. Nitz had to stay behind to take care of the house and her aging mother. It was a lot of hassle to us and to the families we had to disturb.

But the hassles then were nothing compared to what we are experiencing now. The flood has reached our premises and beyond. I had to transfer the car to what I thought would have been safer grounds. This is the first time that we had to raise up the furniture, disconnect the electronics and put them to a safer place at the second floor lest they get soaked in water and break. The toughest was the refrigerator.

What’s worse is that Nitz and the two boys decided to go to school. “Classes are not suspended,” they argued. So, they’re now stuck in Taft while we had to find ways to raise everything, cook food and bring it up so that we can eat. But we always have to think positive and look at the brighter side. The good thing is that we now have a toilet and bath upstairs. I can just imagine the horrors if we still had the old house where we only had one bathroom downstairs. Taking a bath would have been very uncomfortable. Using the toilet would have been horrendous.

It's Sunday. The rains have stopped and I was hoping the water level would have gone down but to no avail. For some reason or another, it has not abated an inch. Hopefully, this is not that kind of flood that stays for months! The phone is now busted and I have no idea exactly where Nitz and the boys are. Not really. Coby decided to take his chances going home and got stuck inside his friend’s car. The last time I heard from him is that he is in a condo unit of a friend. Mickey, likewise, is stuck in traffic I don’t have a freakin’ idea where. Nitz is still somewhere in school. Her office got inundated too and had to transfer. I don’t think they are coming home anytime soon. The water level outside the subdivision is still waist high. (note: They manage to come home around noon)

Before my laptop’s batteries go dead on me, let me blurt out my sentiments on someone out there who will not even get a glimpse of what I have written. Nonetheless, my ramblings might give me some relief. I have no one to blame but the incompetence of education officials to at least have a modicum of intelligence not to trust the weather bureau and its outdated machines and announce a no class day based on what they are seeing outside the comforts of their homes. I blame the city engineers for not having an iota of an idea how to prevent flooding or at least make it go away as soon as possible. Most importantly, I blame the government officials for their greed plaguing this forsaken land with corruption so that they can live in luxury and wanton pleasure regardless of the plight of the citizens who they pledged to serve who are living in misery.

Noynoy for president?

2009-09-15T13:11:00.008+08:00

Since the time Noynoy expressed his intention to join the presidential race, allegedly after a deep soul-searching retreat in a religious institution his mother sought before she ran for office, the senator is now on cloud nine. Why not? His candidacy looks even brighter today after a contested survey named him as the person to beat in the 2010 elections. Actually, landing in the top spot does not come to me as a surprise considering the outcome of Cory’s funeral parade which was attended by millions of Filipinos. If we eradicate cheating, which is bound to happen in whatever form during the polls, from among the variables and granting that we are about to have the cleanest elections with the introduction of automated machines, the question to ask is will Noynoy be able to sustain the people’s interest in him considering that 2010 is still a long way and that Filipinos sometimes have a very short memory.

I believe Noynoy does not share the charisma his parents have. Neither does he have the flare of his father’s tongue and quick wit nor his mother’s halo. At least not the Noynoy I have known so far. While he does not come as someone who is bobo, he is short of being a complete nondescript to date. With his lisp and a good surname, he is continuously overshadowed by a sister whose flare is au naturel who insists in giving him a make-over like as if she was Carson Kressley of the Queer eye for the straight guy show. What he actually needs is Kris’ handlers and acting tutors. In all fairness, in both instances I saw her on the boobtube, (one during her expose of being a battered woman and her eulogy for Cory), her timing is impeccable, her stance and gestures on camera, superb.

Noynoy will need a lot of things to work on. Especially now that Archbishop Vidal, whose organization helped a lot with Cory's candidacy and will prove to be a very strong ally, is threatening to disown him after learning about his stand on childbirth control. I am not a political analyst. Of course, I can be way off. But that's not important. I have not made my choice yet as to who to vote for in 2010. I will have to wait until all the hats are thrown into the ring. If Noynoy's credentials are as good as they want to make me believe, then I shall be voting for him. I do not agree with the Administration's pronouncements that the coming elections will not be about good vs. evil. Of course, the administration players will not join a game where they are sure to lose. On the contrary, I believe it is about good against evil this time. Let's see which one shall prevail.

Ample

2009-09-09T10:22:00.003+08:00

This is my latest creation which is to be owned by a friend of some twenty eight years or so. He will be celebrating his birthday tomorrow. He is also about to bless his own four-storey building which shall be his new home and printing press combined. He has gone a long way out of honest, hard work and perseverance. I join him and his family in celebrating a life of more abundance, good health and peace.

Linggo ng Wika

2009-09-01T14:57:00.003+08:00

I had been asked by the Filipino coordinator to join his little poetry contest in celebration of the Linggo ng Wika and I obliged. Here's the original poem I wrote in Tagalog and my english version. Hope you like them.

Pano bang mamuhay ng malaya?

Tunay ka bang malaya
pagkat ika’y wala sa hawla?
Hindi naninilbihan sa hindi kadugong
iba ang kulay ng balat at anyo?
Malaya ka ba dahil nasisilayan mo ang araw,
napagmamasdan ang buwan
at nararamdaman ang init ng haplos
ng hanging amihan sa gitna ng kadiliman?

Baka naman ika’y parang sampung daliri
na oo nga’t malayang kumilos nang walang paglilimi
pagmasdan mo’t ang kilos naman nito’y
kumporme pa rin sa natural na daloy
pagkat ito’y nakadikit sa iyong palad
kahit gaano pa man ito kalapad.
Oo nga’t maaari kang pumunta kahit saan
ngunit paano itong gagawin kung bulsa mo’y
butas hanggang sa kailailaliman?

Maituturing bang malaya ang isang kaluluwang
ipinapanganak pa lamang ay baon na sa utang?
Utang na ginastos ng walang kapararakan
ng hindi naman dayuhan bagkus ay isang kalahi
na buong hayok na niyurakan yaring kalooban.
Siya na halos isuka ang pagkasarap-sarap na pagkaing
nakahain sa mamahaling pinggan
sapagkat siya’y bundat na sa kabusugan
habang ikaw nama’y kumukulo
ang maasim na sikmurang
parating walang laman.

Ilang beses na bang pinakawalan
itong ibong pipit mula sa kanyang piitan?
Di ba nga’t tuwing may pagtitipong ganyak
Itong mga tibak na hamak
mikoropono’t gitara ‘y pihadong tangan
paliliparin ito at pagbuka ng pakpak ay hahayaan
Subalit , kaibigan, ito’y sa awit lamang
kaya’t kawawang ibo’y umiiyak pa rin sa parang.

Ano ang ganda ng bulaklak na busilak
kung ang pang-amoy mo nama’y manhid
pagkat binara ang ilong mong makitid
ng sangsang ng amoy na basurang hatid?
Aanhin mo ang ganda ng sikat ng umaga
kung bulag ka naman sa sinapit ng inang bayan?
Ano ang silbi ng tamis ng tunog na dulot ng lira
kung bingi ka naman sa panaghoy ng batang ulila?

Malaya ka nga ba kaibigan
pagkat sa hawla ika’y hindi naninirahan?
Pakaisipin mong mabuti
ang ibong pipit na nakapiit ay pihadong kakain
anumang sandali, minsan nga’y pinipilit
samantalang ika’y wala man lang kahit ano
umaasa lamang kung anong sasapit
na tila baga isang aso
nakatali at nag aalumpihit.

What Does It Mean to Live a Free Man?

Can you consider yourself free
because you do not live in a cage;
do not serve foreign masters
who look different than you?

Can you say you’re truly free
just because you can see the sun,
gaze at the moon and feel the gentle breeze
touch your face in the dead of night?

Maybe you are just like your ten fingers
that can move at will
but whose movements are dictated
by the confines of your hand.
Yes, you can go anywhere you please
but cannot do so with barely a dime.

Can one consider free a soul
born heir to debt amounting to trillions?
A debt ill-spent not by a foreign
conqueror but someone of the same race,
who with voracious greed ravaged your being.
He who almost puked the delicious delicacies
served on ornate platters with silver spoons
because he is fully satiated and cannot have more
while your empty stomach grinds
and growls from hunger.

How often have we set the sparrow free?
We have sung in the streets many times
“put a bird inside a cage and it will cry endlessly”
and so we let it go and set it to flight
but that was only in a song
and the poor bird still cries.

Can you claim freedom when all you feel
is the filth of moral degradation?
What is the beauty of a rose
if your sense of smell has been numbed
by the stench of trash all around?
What sweetness do you hear from the sound of a lyre
if you’ve gone deaf to the pleas of the orphaned child?
What will you do with the morning sun
if you’re blind to what has come to this land?

Are you truly free,
because you do not live in a cage?
The caged bird
is sure to eat for he’ll be fed morning till night
while you who have nothing
just like a fettered lapdog waits,
depending on what the day shall bring
if it will ever come.

One dinner that costs too much?

2009-08-11T08:30:00.004+08:00

The now popular dinner that cost PGMA's entourage $21,000 got the people even madder than they already are. "It's just a simple dinner," as Remonde puts it. "Not a single centavo of taxpayers' money was spent for that dinner," he added saying that the famous repast was hosted and paid for by Leyte Rep. Martin Romualdez. Furthermore, "A Php1 million dinner tab in Manila can be too much but not in New York," says QC Rep. Danilo Suarez, adding that he could have foot the bill..."

Several things come to mind. First, the simplicity angle. A dinner of soup, salad, a main course, drinks and coffee or tea may have been considered simple for their tastes but with that kind of bill, I cannot consider it simple. If we go by Rep. Suarez' argument, why then did the New York Post publish the cost of the dinner? If that was not news for it was indeed ordinary, NY Post would have just ignored it. Dog bites man is not news as opposed to a man biting the dog.

Remonde is quick in saying that he would ask the deputy executive secretary to release this week a financial statement on all expenses incurred during the visit. I do not have any doubt that it will yield nothing with regard to the dinner for it has been paid for by someone else, another government official. Hmmm, could he also look into the pork barrel of the said representative? Or yeah, maybe he is extremely wealthy like Mr. Suarez who is willing to foot the bill for he has lots of cash to spare. But then, the money could have been spent elsewhere, like education where hundreds of children could have benefited like, uhm, the place which he represents.

But of course, I can never understand their ways. Maybe what they have done is justified considering the fortunes of their circumstances and based on what they have. I remember a scene in Jesus Christ Superstar when Judas confronts Christ why He allows Mary Magdalene to use brand new, expensive fine ointment on Him, Jesus answers, "There will be poor always, pathetically struggling, look at the good things you've got." meaning He cannot save the poor by not using expensive things. But then, that's Tim Rice and the play is kind of blasphemous anyway. But maybe, just maybe, there is some truth in that. I will never understand what it is to be rich. I am merely an ordinary man trying to earn a living doing honest hard work. Working hard and staying poor, that is.

A lesson learned

2009-08-02T19:42:00.008+08:00

As we mourn Cory's death, let us reflect and seriously think about what it means to us. If there's a lesson we all should learn about Cory Aquino's passing, it will be that a true leader is someone who has the people's blessing. Sure, one can use all the tricks in the book to be the top honcho but it does not necessarily mean success. And that is true even for someone with the noblest of intentions.

A true leader is made more by outside forces, circumstances that surround him/her. Cory is such. She never meant to be president. She never meant to be "the one" to oppose and stop the Marcos regime. She never meant to be the people's hero. And yet, all these happened. She was such by circumstance. Only a select few are chosen to lead like this. Cory was and she accepted it and did well.

We have seen political leaders who forced their way to office and how much the people hated them. More often than not, these self-anointed ones cling to power like their lives depended on it. And rightfully so. Their lives do depend on the powers they have arrogated to themselves. As Lord Acton said, power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. As their powers grow, they tend to be dictators who have almost godly powers who can not be touched by mere mortals. Eventually, they begin to rule using fear and intimidation. How many lives were lost so that they can remain in power? You can just imagine how they would be once these powers are taken from them. Dictators fall and when they do, they fall really hard. We saw how Nicolae Ceaucescu of Romania was shot after a two-hour session with a kangaroo court, we saw how Idi Amin fall to nowhere, or Haiti's Francois Duvalier, dying a well hated man. We need not go far. Our very own Ferdinand Marcos, bright as he was, is now regarded as one of the greatest thief in history.

Cory Aquino is a hero by circumstance. She happened to be in the right place at the right time. Who would have thought that Marcos would be forced to call for a snap election while being interviewed by Ted Koppel? She became president simply because of her marriage to Ninoy Aquino, who was felled by a lone bullet of an unknown assailant. As a widow, she had the people's sympathy. As a leader, she had the charisma to lead a nation against a strongman who has ruled for twenty years. She never had any experience to run a country. As a matter of fact, the common joke when she was in power was saying her name with gestures like "Corazon (spanish for heart) and pointing at the heart, then saying C (si, yes) Aqui (here) then pointing to one's brain, and completing it with no!" She was definitely not as bright a politician as Marcos was but she had the determination to continue her husband's fight. She did not even seek vengeance and merely allowed the wheels of justice take its turn. She had the will to govern the people towards peace and contentment. She survived three coup attempts and even emerged as victor.

I recall the time when she had to address the US congress. I could never have been as prouder seeing my president being hailed and given a standing ovation by the leaders of a powerful nation. A nation, who for almost fifty years, would rule us making them our superiors for a very long time. Her speech was interrupted several times by a deafening applause that lasted for several minutes, probably one of the longest this august men and women gave to anyone. Then US House Speaker Ted O'neil regarded the speech "as the finest speech he's heard in his thirty four years in Congress." I believe it simply because this was one speech delivered with sincerity and with a lot of heart. Just as wonderful was her last address to the nation when she bid everyone goodbye. She was even being told that the constitution's prohibition for re election did not apply to her since she did not come into power under the present one. However, she refused saying, "I had not been inaugurated under the present Constitution and it did not bind me in strict terms, but I had campaigned for it and therefore took upon myself the moral obligation to follow, if not its letter then its spirit, that a presidency must accomplish its goal within six years.” Such an inspiring anecdote in the life of a real hero.

To all political leaders and would-be president, heed the lesson history has taught us. If you want to be great, do what great men and women do - selfless devotion to the country and its people.

Computers counting the ballots?

2009-07-20T19:55:00.004+08:00

So much has been said about the computerization of the coming elections in 2010, if there is going to be one, of course. Honesty does not seem to be one of our president's virtues. She has lied to us many times before.

Granting that there shall be one, so much has happened, most of which were speculations, since we began thinking about computerizing this very controversial democratic exercise.

Perhaps the main reason why we are adamant in adopting this kind of technology, in spite of its tremendous cost to the taxpayer, into our system is, we are running out of ideas on how to conduct an honest and fair election. From the time Marcos got re-elected sometime in the 1960’s, at least to my mind as that was my first election related experience (I was in grade school at the time), the phrase “whoever has the guns, goons and gold" (not necessarily in that order) wins the election. Since then, losers have cried "foul" and "rampant cheating" like an "amen" to close a prayer. Sadly, we have learned to accept this as part of the elections.

Is computerization the answer to our woes come election time? While I hate to be a doomsayer, I doubt it for the following reasons:

1. The players have not changed! We will have to travel a long, arduous road to change these politicians ways. Losers will still cry they have been cheated. Never mind the evidences. They will do so just the same. They will find enough reasons just to justify having lost in their bid to power and fame. And maybe rightfully so. What with all the money they have spent on their campaign. There should be at least an ROI, if not in office, at least a justification for losing face. So, the journey is until kingdom come.

2. Corollary to number 1, we are only minimizing cheating in the counting, not the entire elections per se. Remember that this activity starts with the campaign period until a candidate has been declared a winner. Just right now, while the campaign period has not even started, we see the moneyed politicians unabashedly using the media to glorify themselves. We see the names of government officials glaring in our face with projects they have undertaken. Never mind that they were obligated to serve. Never mind that it was our money that was used for the same.

3. Vote buying can still happen. In a country where there is hunger and despair, where there are people who are living in dire straits, selling their votes is easy money and will solve their problem at least for the day.

4. How will the system correct flying voters, or fictitious voters whose names were taken from tombstones? We have seen it before. People long dead voting. Have we shouted hallellujah, it's a miracle? Never. We simply shrugged our shoulders and maybe winced in pain.

5. How certain are we that these machines cannot be manipulated? These are man-made and even the highest type of program can be hacked. I remember the snap elections when the computer operators marched out of the PICC because they were being forced to cheat. If that happened before, it can happen again. At any rate, it just proves that computerization is no guarantee that it will eradicate cheating.

A democracy like ours is based on the freedom of its citizenry to choose its leaders. It is unfortunate that this exercise has been abused much to the detriment of the people. But still, let us keep our fingers crossed that our money is being spent on something that is useful for us. After all, we have already suffered for too long. Surely, there is no other direction left but forward. But how long can we wait? We deserve a break!

Someone is not going home tonight

2009-07-13T19:30:00.002+08:00

As our HMO provider's contract has expired, we are now in the process of selecting our next health card. Last Thursday would have been an ordinary presentation of the various contenders for our school, or so we thought. Amid the hohums and hrmphs we gave out as we listened to each presentors, we did not expect to be shocked for the unexpected ending.

The last presentor could have been ordinary except for a minor slur in his speech and the fact that he was sort of hurrying up his presentation did not help any. It could have been an Ilocano accent, I thought. However, just as he finished and handed the mike over to the emcee, he collapsed! I did not notice it. I just got to realize something was happening when I saw a colleague rushing out of the auditorium and the guy was being carried out. We looked on puzzled but stayed inside the auditorium for the closing prayer.

When I got out of the auditorium, I happened to pass by the clinic and curiosity got the better of me, went inside to check how the guy was doing. He was still unconscious. I just got a glimpse of the school doctor unwrapping that thing she uses to take my blood pressure. I heard her suggest that the guy be taken to the hospital immediately. Since I was there already, I helped carry the guy to the vehicle. That being way past the dismissal time, the ambulance that stays inside the campus has already gone.

He was very heavy. I thought it was a wrong move on my part to take the head part. I may not be able to sustain enough strength all the way to the van. Thank God, I did. As we loaded him to the vehicle, I noticed that he has already wetted his pants. That was not a good sign. I remember the time when I took an unconscious neighbor, to the hospital one morning in 2007. He had a heart attack and he did wet his pants. I remember the doctor saying that was not a good sign. My neighbor was pronounced dead after several attempts to revive him. So you can just imagine the horror I felt when I felt the guy had wetted his pants.

As my car is still out of commission, (now they tell me it's the piston rings that do not function well) I had to stay with my friend to whom I hitch a ride all the way to my place. It was raining hard and we decided a couple of beers could be handy. It was there when my principal called me up to tell me the guy has expired. God bless his soul.

I wish the circumstances were different but experiences like this one makes my creative juices flow and it triggered my poetic instincts anew. Here is one poem I dedicate to the man who shall forever be unnamed to me. May he rest in peace.

Someone is not going home tonight

I can imagine how your morning went.
You probably calculated how much toothpaste
you shall put on your toothbrush.
Parted your straight hair with your favorite comb,
favored your black shirt over the red one
and meticulously checked if your white pants
have been ironed out well before putting it on.

I bet you never knew
you were not going home tonight.

You must have sat down quietly on the table,
said grace before your meal. Spread butter over
your toast albeit mindlessly.
Your thoughts were on your work
and a thousand other things.
You probably gave out reminders
to your kids like not to stay
late for after all

you never knew
you were not going home tonight.

You shined your shoes and put them on.
You kissed your wife goodbye
and headed for the door.
With your hand holding on to your youngest,
laptop clutched on your other shoulder,
you stepped out of the gate, walked a few steps
and turned around to look back at your house.
You missed your wife’s wave of goodbye
for she was engaged with household chores.

If she only knew
you were not going home tonight.

I noticed the slur on your speech
how your tongue rolled out the syllables.
Maybe it was just an accent you had
or so I thought. Then, all of a sudden
you melted like a candle.
Never got up until you expired.
To me, you may be a stranger
who shall remain unnamed except
for the thought that

you were someone
who was not going home tonight.

rolly

trade-offs

2009-07-02T11:00:00.003+08:00

Alas, the traffic I have to go through everyday is taking its toll on my old car. You see, the SLEX is undergoing its second phase of the skyway and causing a huge traffic gridlock (if that's what its called) on both sides. What used to be a three-lane street has been reduced to two and to make matters worse, the same clowns running the traffic flow refuse to give up the idea of having a counterflow of northbound commuters with us, who they probably consider as southbound second-class citizen road users. In effect, southbound street has been reduced further to just a lane and is naturally causing a very slim bottle neck.

I cannot manage to suffer traffic to and from work. That would be awful. So, what I do is leave the house early, say, 5:30 am and by the time I reach the SLEX, either the counterflow has not started yet or is just about to start. Sometimes, I see the motorcop heading the vehicles running opposite my lane with siren blasting and weaving his motorcycle from left to right as if he was sweeping the floor. \

Last Tuesday, however, in spite of the thirty minute ride to school, I noticed my car was registering a high temperature. That's bad considering that I was not locked up in traffic. I brushed it off thinking maybe I just need to clean the reservoir and add more water. Fine. I did those. Come time to go home, I prayed and headed for battle. As expected, the traffic had already piled up. My car was doing okay until I reached the Sucat area. The temperature was already very high and was continuously increasing. What was I supposed to do but stop and add more water. A kind worker helped to veer away traffic from me. After that, I was on my way again.

Then lo and behold, a traffic jam again at Market Market in C5. God, I'm so close to home darn it! I stopped again to do the same ritual when someone from a tow truck who happens to be right beside me approached me and asked if the car would not start. I told him it's just overheated. You're not getting any cent from me, silly :-)

And so, that was when I decided to either take a leave of absence the following day and take the car to the radiator shop or better yet, hitch a ride with my friend Jay to and from work. I texted him and told him of my predicament. Surprised (not), he replied back with a bargain. Done! Just tell me where to pick you up in the morning and that you will have to drink with us Thursday and Friday Hmmmm, free ride and pleasure vs staying with the mechanic for half a day ... tough choices. Guess what I chose.

Last night, not even a Thursday yet for the regular Thursday club soiree, "we" decided to have a beer or two. Well, as you know how this thirst quenching brew affects the senses, two led to three and then more until it was already way past 9.

Great! I have two more nights of pleasure. However, around 10:30 pm, a family friend called me up to confirm if a text message she received about no classes due to A(H1N1) flu in our school was true. I told her that was just a rumor but I will check it with my superiors just the same. What do I know? It was true. So there, what would have been a win-win trade off with my thirsty friend has been put on a halt just like that.

BUMMER!!!!!

goodbye, bro!

2009-06-21T17:15:00.003+08:00

Today, being father's day, we should be celebrating as we face the never ending challenges of fatherhood. As my father has brought me up in this world as a responsible being, I pass this torch to my children hoping that I shall be more successful than my dad. As they say, the offspring should be a better creature than who has sired him/her. I have a few more years before I can truly say my children are all independently on their own. When that time comes, I pray that they shall have learned to live life to its fullest, be happy with what they have but continue to dream the dream of a better tomorrow.

In the meantime, we, as a family, shall mourn the loss of a father in Bro. Ceci who passed away yesterday. We shall truly miss his anecdotes, his quotable phrases and his witty remarks. We shall miss posing for him as he snaps pictures of everyone and post it is in his multiply account. God bless you on your trip back home, Bro. Ceci.

Coming full circle

2009-06-10T20:56:00.005+08:00

When I opened this blog in May, 2004, I was just assigned to a new position in our school - that of Level Coordinator for the lower years, much like the prefect of discipline and more. The opening of the blog was very timely as new challenges laid ahead. However, much to my disappointment, I could not blog about my work, most specially the specifics as I have started to gain readers outside of my circle of friends. Hence, I blogged about education and teaching in general, which later on evolved into a gamut of different topics, a mixture of how I view life, adventures, fatherhood, family, etc.

Two years later, the school decided to do some re-organizing and I was back in the classroom again. After all, I did sign up to be a teacher. I was enjoying myself without the hassles of administrative work only mindful of grades, lesson plans and modules, etc. However, just as I was collecting more visual materials and researching for newer projects to give, a new boss appears and yet another re-organization. He invited me to his office one day last school year telling me that he was eyeing me to be the high school prefect of discipline. I respectfully declined as I do not think I still have the stamina for the position. I am but nine years away from retirement and I told him the pressures of the job might cause me my life (in full drama, hahaha). However, as a sort of compromise, I told him that if he really wanted me to be a part of his team, I was open to the idea of heading the department again, a position I handled for about nine years until I resigned in 1997. Since there was noone applying for the job from among my co-teachers, I got it. So at this time, I am now the Art Coordinator, once again taking the helm of the department. I guess this is just right as I may be too old to be teaching and about time I learned new tricks from fresher blood who speaks the language of the young and is abreast of the new trends in teaching.

So there, this blog has come full circle and awaiting new posts as new challenges await. So help me God.

I tried to sing in Singapore for the first time but Malaysia took my heart

2009-05-14T20:03:00.015+08:00

I'm back from a four day tour of Singapore (if that can be called one) and Malaysia. I was with my sister-in-law, her husband and the husband's sister who just flew in from Saipan for a visit. Planning was done as early as last month, looking for hotels, bus terminals and all those things. Guess what, we missed our bus going to Clark. We even saw it leave Megamall around 2:15 am. The lady I made reservations with made sure it was leaving the place at 2:39. We tried to catch it but to no avail. We landed up in another bus station going to Alaminos. We had to disembark at Dau and take a van going to Clark.

The view from our hotel window

Taken while taking a rest inside our hotel room

I can hardly say I've toured Singapore. We arrived there around 1:30 and got out of the airport maybe 30 mins. after. We went directly to Furama hotel where we were booked, went out for lunch in a mall, buy some goodies and before we knew it, it was already way past six. We went back to the hotel to take a rest. We said we only needed 5 minutes of nap time but since we hardly slept the night before, we woke at 10. We've been told that the stores by Orchard Road would have been closed and asked where we could go to shop. We ended up in what is known as Little India called Mohamed Mustafa, a retail giant in the country.

There, anything and everything that can be sold is being sold. The place is replete with stalls you can barely walk and is teeming with people at anytime. We ended up in the wee hours of the morning and yet the place was still jam packed. The following day, we woke up late and headed for the airport. The taxi driver was a jolly fellow who had a lot of entertaining stories about his country. He said that Singapore is a fine city, meaning everything you do is being fined. He had his own versions of the acronyms. Too bad, I did not write them down. Anyway, the cab drivers there speak english and are very honest. When I asked the driver if it was safe to go anywhere, he said, "Let's put it this way. Low crime does not mean no crime."

Anyway, my best impression of the country is that it is so clean and their system is very efficient. Nevertheless, there was a little snag at the airport. When I put my bag into the x-ray, the men stationed there asked me to open it. This was a surprise because I never expected that they would do that. The man by the x-ray machine told the other guy that there's another small bag which he then took out. Lo and behold, it contained a cutter. I have forgotten all about it. They confiscated it, borrowed my passport and copied the number. Hmmm, does this mean I can no longer visit Singapore?

Malaysia is 45 minutes away by plane. I have been there before and am a little familiar with the place as I and my wife had been competently and generously toured by my friend, Bayi. Arriving at the airport, we took lunch and hailed a bus for KL Sentral.

They don't look strange, do they?

My first taste of tobacco after Singapore and it tasted heavenly!

Bus ride from LCCT to KL Sentral

At KL Sentral, we took Bayi's advice to go to the taxi station where we are given a cab for Genting Highlands. It costs RM 80 to get there. Funny but our cab driver looked like Telly Savalas of the Kojak fame. Anyway, Genting Highlands is an entertainmen cum theme park/casino and a nice get away from the hustles and bustles of the city. We checked in, after several hours of queueing, at the First World Hotel, that boasts to have the most number of rooms in the world. If that doesn't impress you yet, here are some facts. We arrived there, got a number before we can even check in.

We were #1446

346 to go!

Suffice it to say that we were all ready for dinner when we got to our room. The outdoor activity area was already closed leaving us to the indoor activity to venture. We watched a show named DREAMZ, a song and dance acrobat and magic show featuring both Asians and mostly European artists. They had white lions and tigers in the show and it was indeed entertaining.

After the show, what else was there to do but shop and yes, try our chances at the casino. As to be expected, I lost about RM150. That would be about Php 2000. Not bad considering I stopped at around 3 am. I should have stopped while I was ahead!

That morning, at breakfast, I took revenge and ate to my heart's content at the buffet breakfast included in our package. I ate like there was no tomorrow! AFter that, we toured the place, took the train that goes around the place and checked out. ON our way back to KL, we opted to ride the cable car. The cable car is a 15 minute ride of about 3.4 kilometers above the canopy of Malaysian rainforest. The first salvo of the trip is a whopping hundreds of feet drop that goes all the way to about a mile. It was a harrowing experience for me considering that I have fear of heights and I was in front seat.

When we got to KL, we stayed at the Grand Season Hotel and from there was picked up by Bayi and his wife, who graciously treated us to a sumptuous dinner that is really a gastronomic's delight. He offered us a bevy of vegetables, seafood and a local crispy pata with a new twist. Instead of serving it plain and dipped with a mixture of soy sauce, vinegar and garlic, it was bathed in a sort of satay sauce. Bayi always the good entertainer, has done it again. I was so sated I can hardly breathe.

The following day, we headed for the Petronas Tower. We got tickets and as the tickets we got were for the 5:30pm viewing, we decided to take a train and head for the market in Penang Sari.

Underground bus station at KLCC

The bus station at KLCC is underground, probably so as not to ruin the view of the Petronas Tower but it goes above ground just as our LRT thereafter. The ride costs RM1. Which we think is very cheap.

This is where we got off

Again, my companions went on a shopping spree while I just window shopped, watched the artists work at the far end just like what Ermita was during the early 70's and managed to buy bracelets for my wife and kids and a set of soft charcoal pencils
for myself. What can I do, I barely carry money and having lost at the casino, I only have some left for food hahaha.

Thereafter, we took the train again and headed for the Petronas. While waiting for our scheduled tour, I happen to chance upon a gallery showcasing one of the local artists on exhibit while my companions shopped till they dropped. Too bad, I couldn't take pictures but the show was a good one.

Anyway, Malaysia is not a very different place for a Filipino. While their food
has a distinct taste, the people are just like us. What is amazing is how they managed to live together, in spite of their different religious, ethnic and cultural traditions. I have often wondered why there were too many words that sound familiar like lelaki for males, masuk for entry and this:

I'm sure the list can go on and on and then it dawned on me. We share the same heritage knowing that our ancestors are Malays coming here using boats called balangays. That is if Otley Beyer is correct.

It's not that grand but it's ours!

2009-05-08T22:47:00.004+08:00

We've moved back to the house although there are still things to be completed like interior doors, painting jobs, etc, etc. What's more depressing are the boxes that are still cluttered in our living room. Nevermind what's stored inside the children's rooms. As it is, they cannot occupy these yet and have to sleep in the family room where the tv and this computer is. It looks like it would take another three months before everything's finally settled. Just the same, we are all glad we're back!

Unfortunately, my 85 year-old mother-in-law takes a long time to get re-acquainted with the house. She seems to be disoriented. What happened was we asked my wife's brother to take her to his house and stay there for a while as the house we were renting was too hot and very uncomfortable. The problem was she wasn't there when we moved back. Now, she keeps on saying she wants to go back home. We can't find the right words to tell her that this is the same house, only renovated. Oh well, I guess confusion is almost synonymous to old age.

Nevertheless, in a few hours from now, I shall be on my way to Clark where a plane shall take me and my in-laws to Singapore for an overnight stay. From there, we head to Genting, Malaysia for another overnight stay and travel back to Kuala Lumpur where hopefully, I get to meet an old friend of mine, Bayi, who used to go visiting Filipino blogs before making his name a familiar one in Philippine blogosphere.

Tata for now!

Almost done.

2009-04-23T04:45:00.003+08:00

What was supposed to be a simple renovation on the house turned out to be a complete redesigning. Since the kids are already all grown up, what with the youngest being almost 6' and all, we decided to have more rooms. The perceuved two-month reno is now on its three and a half months. We are depleting, no make that "have depleted" our resources slowly, thanks to our collective inputs on what to put to make it more beautiful. Exciting but scary.

I am more hands on right now. While I let the kids to choose the color scheme for their house, the rest have been my call. We have just finished putting up the cornices and baseboards on the living room yesterday. Squaring the door frames have been very challenging from my point of view. I had to ask the carpenter to correct something several times. The octagonal centerpieces for the lights on the ceiling was also proved to be very tedious. The other carpenter had to align, saw and nail interchangeably until everything's fixed to the right place.

Hopefully, we can move back again next week. Just thinking how we are going to put back all those things in our boxes make my back ache.

Art Projects

2009-04-10T05:44:00.013+08:00

As I have done in the past, I am posting several works of my students done during the third and final term of the schoolyear. These artworks have been done in my class by freshmen and sophomore students.

The first photo is a sample of my sophomore students. The first one being a lesson on what I call dramatic lettering where the student should create a kind of lettering that will show the meaning of the word.

The next one delves with art history. During the spanish era, a painter named Honorato Lozano who became popular for his paintings of everyday life done with the client's name. This genre was known as Letras y Figuras. I asked my students to experiment on the form and these are some of the results.

But before the Letras Y Figuras, I asked them to choose a movie or tv show and re create the lettering used in its presentation. Here is one of the more interesting ones.

For the Freshmen who takes up painting, I introduced color harmony and here are some samples:

Analogous

Complementary

And lastly, our biggest project for the year, our toast to the masters. Here, they get to reproduce a work of a master. Not only do they learn about a particular master's style, they get to learn the effects of texture as well as I asked them to substitute different found objects in lieu of paint.

Education, joy or pain?

2009-03-25T22:34:00.006+08:00

At last, my youngest has graduated from high school. He is the last one of my children to leave my clutches. Fortunately for me, unfortunately for him for where I left off, my wife shall take over! Hah! If he thinks coming to school with me was a pain, wait till he experiences his mom's training. For one thing, there will be no more car to take him to and from school. It will be an arduous task of having to commute everyday, just as what his siblings has experienced. This also means that I will be riding to and from school alone. I don't have to sit and wait in the car until a child comes before I go home. I had to do just that for almost twenty years of my teaching life.

But this is not a post about my youngest. This is more about what students and parents alike experience during this time of the year. Did the student pass with flying colors or was there a glitch in his studies for the whole year? What's worse is, will he repeat the year? If you are a student reading this and you passed all the requirements for the course, I salute you. If you belong to the other one, then, how do you deal with it?

The pain of failure is not the student's alone. It is shared, to a much greater extent, I suppose, with the parents. Having to see your child fail is a stab in a parent's heart. A lot of questions and soul searching happens when you see those red marks in your child's report card. Questions like, "where did I go wrong?" or "Did I not teach him/her enough?" "I always told him/her to study the lessons, didn't I?" or much worse, "is it in the genes?" If it's the last one, fingers are pointed to the better half, I guess. hahaha That is not to mention the financial worries. The cost of education keeps on escalating that parents practically have to work a lot harder just to send their kids to school.

Maybe to the student's surprise, the pain is shared by the teacher, too. The same questions arise. "What part of the lesson(s) did he/she not understand?" "If only he had more time for studying..." Failing a student is likewise a failure of the teacher. "BAkit hindi siya natuto?" (Why didn't he/she learn?)

Whatever it is, a failure can develop different outcomes. It can be construed as a weakness, a surrender of one's capabilities as a student and consequently, as an individual. If this happens, the individual becomes a total loser. This is the worst one can view a failure in one, two or more subject areas. Turning a failure into a positive thing is a more acceptable stance. It can be taken as a wake up call. Surely, the student has not done enough. Maybe too much partying or playing with friends. Staying on the phone for too long doing nonsense talk with a friend and lately, chatting for long hours on a computer. How much time did you spend studying the lessons? Have you reading and done all the assigned works? Did you listen to the teacher while lessons were being discussed?

In the end, it will always have to be the student who has to face the consequences of his failure. How does one deal with it? I guess, the best way to deal with the situation is take this as a wake up call. Admit that ones failure is his/her own doing. To blame it on somebody else is pointless. Take it as a challenge to do better next time.

Happy vacation, everyone!

A new world order?

2009-03-11T11:07:00.006+08:00

If we are to believe a Russian dean of diplomatic academy, Igor Panarin, a new world order might be in the offing. According to him, the United States that we know may not be what it is come autumn. The union will disintegrate into six different territories as a result of the financial crisis that plagued the US last year.

Through an interpreter, the soviet diplomat, who had forecasted the collapse since 1998, said that the six territories would compose of

California Republic (California, Washington, Oregon, Nevada, Arizona, Utah and Idaho)which would be absorbed or fall under the influence of China, and the “Texas Republic” (Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Louisiana, Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, and Florida) that would become part of or fall under Mexico’s influence...
Canada would get or influence the “Central North American Republic” (the Midwest plus Montana, Wyoming and Colorado), “Atlantic America” (the northeastern American seaboard plus Kentucky, Tennessee, and North and South Carolina) would end up with the European Union or the United Kingdom.
Alaska would revert back to Russia, and Japan and China would take over Hawaii.

The forecast is based mainly on the US's plunging economy which continue to plummet to this time. Should this happen, there will be a new world leader and I wonder where we, a nation whose econo-political stability has always been in question, will put us. For sure we can kiss our Kalayaan claim in the Spratley Islands goodbye for according to Panarin, China would take over the California Republic :-)

Personally, I still think that the breakup is a very far scenario. Panarin's prediction is based on the collapse of the USSR and has likened Obama to Russia's last leader Mikhail Gorbachev. There is a big difference, in my opinion. While the USSR shared with the US in terms of power, its ideologies are different, hence the mindset of their people. The USSR may have enjoyed the privilieges of being a world power but this may have only been with their political leaders. The US has shared it with their countrymen living the American dream of someday making it rich at the very least. I think that there's no way that any American would allow a foreign country take over its affairs knowing the potential of losing their own privileges. As Randy David said “While I could imagine California declaring independence, why would they allow themselves to be absorbed by China? Why would Californians think that their crisis would be solved by China?

But of course, we cannot deny the possibility of a US collapse. After all it is faced with a terrible blow and has not yet solved its problems to date and many things, including the impossible can still happen.

Baguio- the summer (brawling) capital

2009-03-05T11:16:00.004+08:00

It has been last week and last night that I saw a ramble happening at the city of pines on tv. In both instances, the protagonists were young men, probably in their twenties, involved in a free for all fisticuffs. The one I saw last night was sparked by one group challenging the other to rough it up right after a drinking binge (probably as they were all drunk as reported). You know - male machismo and all that kajologan. So juvenile and oh so primitive!

Now that I have two teen-aged boys, my greatest worry is that sooner or later, they would learn how to drink with their friends and probably go to a bar. What are the chances that they might encounter a group like these who has nothing better to do but test their machismo? Makes me shudder. To think I can't even rest in peace as I watch my youngest play basketball with his friends. What am I to do? I grew up during a time when basketball always turn out to be a brawl. First, during the MICAA which later on became the PBA. I could remember how the likes of Jaworski, Guidaben, Arnaiz, etc. would all turn the game into a boxing ball. You can just imagine how the basketball games in every municipalities were like during those days. Bottles were being thrown on the court as the players rough it up. I'm glad that this phase of the game is no more. We have matured somewhat in that regard as basketball games now are relatively peaceful. No more hotheads playing the game, I think.

I just hope my children are far from harm everytime they are out of my sight. I am not worried that they'd do anything wrong. I know they know better. It is the surroundings that I am always worried about.

What a lot of crap!

2009-02-25T21:10:00.004+08:00

February 25, 1986 was a milestone for Filipinos for on that day, the Marcos era ended. The day has never been brighter for every Filipino for that day signified that we, as a people, are truly free. That we won't take trash from anybody and that we are free to express our sentiments and can and will depose even a strongman like Marcos.

Another EDSA revolt and several coup attempts later and we are still in square one. The bright sun we have seen is once again covered by rain clouds, now darker than ever. It seems like we are not any better than we were twenty three years ago. We are still being treated like dirt by our leaders, most of them bagging what is supposedly the people's purse, into their own pockets. We are taken for fools by men and women who are power hungry and enveloped by greed.

PGMA is quoted in the papers last Sunday to have said, “The world embraced EDSA I in 1986. The world tolerated EDSA II in 2001. The world will not forgive an EDSA III, but it will instead condemn the Philippines as a country whose political system is hopelessly unstable.” I cannot completely agree. Condemn, the world may, but not because of a political system that is hopelessly unstable. It is because we cannot produce a leader worthy of the title. A leader who has the capacity to march us on to victory. A leader who can beat a culture of corruption that has plagued this land. A leader who will rally the people into submission for the constituents believe he/she has the solutions to our problems. If the Filipino people can be faulted for its unsavory plight, it would be because of his folly for not choosing wisely during elections. Or better yet, for not vigilant enough to preserve the sanctity of the ballot.

Will the world condemn us for asserting our rights? I don't think so. The world has looked up on us in 1986, we can gain its respect once more if we prove to the world that we will keep on trying until we've found the right guy for the job.

Valentine's Day

2009-02-14T05:31:00.003+08:00

I don't know what's so special about valentine's day. I don't get it. If it's a day for lovers, then, we ae missing the point. We do not need a special day when we are in love. We are in love everyday! And what's with this announcer in a morning show saying he expects traffic to be heavy especially around motels? Are there women really that dumb to fall for a stunt pulled out by a guy to celebrate valentine's day for three hours inside a roomful of mirrors?

There is only one particular valentine's day that I remember - February 14, 1983. It was the morning that my painting "Transition" that commemorated the transition from a college to a university where I worked was unveiled. But that was not it. It was in the evening of that day when my father had his first heart attack and passed away. Nobody had seen that coming. It was a real shocker. He was okay when I came home then suddenly, he had the attack while attending to our store, rushed to the hospital and died there. How ironic that he would die of a heart attack when we are celebrating a day for hearts, a symbol of love.

Anyway, I don't want to be a party pooper (like as if I have not ruined your celebrations already). Here's a little presentation of the "berks", members of the blogkada team, and their sweethearts. It's a very nice presentation prepared by our friend, the forever in love, dedicated mother, mec

Bad for your health

2009-02-13T19:53:00.003+08:00

Just a short observation and conclusion. It seems like the Senate hall and the senators are bad for one's health. Imagine, all those summoned to appear before it land in the hospital. I remember how Jocjoc Bolante was up and about, smiling at the international airport and suddenly, upon landing to the country, could hardly breathe. That goes true with the rest! And they all go to St. Luke's! Wow!

Rite of Passage

2009-02-08T04:45:00.005+08:00

The house is not even halfway finished. I am excited as to how it would appear. In the meantime, we have to content ourselves with an even smaller apartment while the renovation is ongoing.

Last weekend, the school's annual Father and Son camping took place at Light Bridge Hotel and Resort at Taal, Batangas. As usual, it was fun. The camps of each patrol are well-kept and well-maintained. I had to, together with two more teachers, judge the best patrol camp and they were pretty impressive. We had to look at three items, viz., tentage, gadgets and orderliness. The food was sufficient and tasty. The games were funny and very creative. For example, they played a volleyball game with a twist. We covered the net and neither team could see the other.

The "sessions" with the dads were wonderful. I also had to be a judge during the campfire, which to me was the highlight of the activity. The patrols had to compose their own song, yell and cheer. The fathers are really getting into it. They even brought instruments, computer and a mixed-media projector. The campfire is getting better and better.

The Father and Son has been the brainchild of my "ninong" (godfather), Moie Lozada, who stood as principal sponsor when the wife and I got married. There is no other man who can lead this activity like he does. The problem is he has retired. It's a good thing that he can still join us and take charge of the activities.

I used to bring my sons on these camping trips but now that they are all grown-up, they don't seem to be interested anymore. Nevertheless, we sure had a lot of fun. I had fun. Even wrote a poem about it in 2004, I think, when we camped at Mt. Makiling:

Rites of Passage

I have camped on
these grounds when
I was young,
braved the thick forest
to test if I
could be a man.

Leaves relentlessly fall
raining down on my tent
weave a golden mat on the dirt
just like it did before.

Insects stubbornly
invade the silence
unfazed by the dark night
or the snores from
other fathers
tending their sons.

Inside my tent
two growing boys
saturated with play
innocently asleep
carelessly sprawled
on the sleeping bag.

How I envy the trees
defying the wind outside
with each offspring
a success,
they stand
sturdy and proud.

I come back
to camp on these grounds
once more
to test if I
can be a father
to these youthful boys.

rolly

Grease

2009-01-25T07:24:00.004+08:00

The school embarked on its nth school play. This year, they decided to do the stage play Grease. I watched the gala performance last night with my friends and it turned out that it was also alumni night where most of the main characters were previous stars of the plays we have done in the past. Seeing them perform last night brought back a lot of memories! I used to do the stage before.

My first assignment was way back in 1985 when we did the King and I. I designed the stage and the school contracted someone else to execute it. It was directed by Mr. Tony Espejo and it was the first time that I have worked with a professional director. If I remember correctly, the following year, we sought the help of the Repertory Philippines and staged South Pacific. This time it was the other way around. Someone designed the stage and I executed it! We also did Carousel, Annie and the Sound of music.

The stage is not really new to me as I used to be in school plays when I was in the elementary grades at La Consolacion School in Caloocan City several eons ago. I used to perform. However, it stopped when I got to high school. My priorities changed.

The stage is a wonderful place to work in. The fun part is in the rehearsals. We would stay at the theatre until the wee hours of the morning rehearsing. We would tremble and sink our heads everytime the director was not pleased and cursed! I remember how the kids would turn yellow when Tony Espejo, the late Bibot Amador or Baby Barredo shouted unmentionables. But that was part of the discipline. This was the time when I was no longer onstage and just watching, waiting for them to finish so that I could continue my work, adding on or taking out from the design as needed. It always had to be perfect as on stage, each performance will practically be the last! No more repetitions. Once you've committed a mistake, that's it! You cannot say sorry to the audience and ask them to forget about it as you go back to where you have left off. Discipline and perfection! That's what you aim for.

Last night's performance may not have been that perfect as the singers sometimes would turn flat on a few bars but the dancing and the overall mood was almost perfect! I am particularly proud of my co-teachers who joined the production. They did well. Kudos to the performers and looking forward to next year's production!

Moving On

2009-01-20T06:01:00.003+08:00

Every year, the wife and I embark on a new project. When we got married, the first project, other than making babies, of course, was to purchase our own house. Well, we're almost there. A few more years and we would have paid off the mortgage of our first project. Then, every year, we built it up slowly, adding and subtracting to our own tastes. A few more years after, the car, etc...

We are embarking on a big one this year. We are getting the house renovated. That means we have to move to another house in the meantime so that neither we nor the workers get in each others way. That also means we have to haul most of our things to the new place we are renting and you can just imagine what twenty years or so of accumulated things, mostly trash, can be. We keep discovering things we've saved meant to be used in the future but forgotten about them. Time grows on us and it does not wait. It just goes on and on like a clock that does not run out of batteries. Hopefully, we will only have to withstand two months of discomfort and we will be moving again to a newer house we've always called home.

Fair is fair!

2009-01-15T20:31:00.004+08:00

There are three sides of the truth: your truth, my truth and the truth. I have blogged about the golf incident but that was based on one side of the story. The Valley Golf club had already come out with its investigation and has given penalties to what it thinks were at fault. The verdict can be read here. Since the parties are both unknown to me and that I have nothing to gain from taking sides, as I am not wont to take sides on any story anyway, I am reproducing the other side of the story for your perusal. You can read it here

11 0 4

2009-01-11T16:23:00.008+08:00

My former student, Miki, in her response to this post, wondered how my son's band, 11 0 4, sounded during their first stint at the Podium. In my response, I promised her I'd post somethng as soon as I can get hold of something. My daughters took some videos and although the quality may not be that great, maybe these can do for now. View it here, here and hereHope you like it.

Me and my appetite

2009-01-07T19:41:00.004+08:00

The only thing I don't like about the holiday season is that the food triggers my tastebuds like crazy. I had to indulge with a lot of wonderful food which is actually very bad for a diabetic like me. Much more that my micro albumin is getting high. I think that means my kidneys are extracting protein. Since most of the food being served are party food, i.e. lots of red meat which I had been forbidden by the doctor to partake, I can't help myself but give it a try. The small bite became a big one and more. That made me think I will stop eating meat the following day. How wrong could I have been? Dismally wrong!

This afternoon, I went to see my doctor and lo and behold, my weight is up again to 190 pounds! To think it was down to 170. As usual, I have to pay the lab a visit and see how my blood is doing this Saturday. Hopefully, my micro-albumin has not soared otherwise, it will be not be a good sign.

The problem with diabetes is that it is an illness that makes you hungry all the time. What's more is that sometimes, your blood sugar drops and you feel like as if you're melting like a candle. You begin to shiver and become very very weak. If only my body can have a tune-up the same way the mechanic gave my car.

Gentlemen, where art thou?

2008-12-31T12:02:00.006+08:00

I don't want to post something negative and wake up into a new year with negative vibes. In order to do that, I will close this year's post with something that is not positive. Surprisingly, the story I came up with concerns sports - a game. We can all relate to that as we have, for one time or another, played a game or two. And we all know that in order for a game to be thrilling and fun, the players have to play by the rules. It is when someone cheats or bullies his'her way through that a game is no longer enjoyable.

Look at what happened to a golfer. Now, golf is supposedly a gentleman's game, is it not? It's rules are very strict, complicated even. What happens when men who are not gentle at all try to play the game? They beat up someone, bully their way around, knowing that they have superior strength and number - not to mention that they wield guns.

In fairness to the father, he said that being a government official, he asks for forgiveness for what has happened. But nevertheless, he points to the alleged victim as the one who has started it all. Yeah, right! A father innocently enjoying golf with his son and daughter would have the gall to initiate a fight with burly, gun-toting men who wants to overtake them.

I've read somewhere that cockfighting is another gentleman's game. It is in a cockpit where you'd find the most honest person in the world. Money lost to an opponent would come flying around, landing on the floor and yet, nobody would get it except for the rightful owner. There seems to be an understanding in the area that everyone has the right to hit, at least one, someone who is caught cheating.

Golf used to be a gentleman's game as well. However, with the recent event, plus the negotiations being hatched by government officials on the fairway, I am now beginning to have second thoughts.

Happy New Year to all!

A Christmas full of music

2008-12-29T06:30:00.010+08:00

I think my son has come a long way. This christmas has been full of shows we had to watch as his chamber orchestra goes touring in malls for the holiday season. I only got to see the one they did at the Robinson's Place and I was even late as I had to come all the way from Tanay. My friends and I were looking at a 1 hectare property which looked promising for an investment. However, it was too far and very mountainous that we had to abandon the plans of purchasing it.

Anyway, I was told by the wife that the best show they had was the one performed at the MOA. It was so good that people even asked my son to have a picture taken with them right after the show. He is currently the concert master and does the solos on violin.

As a sample of how the orchestra sounds, here is one of their performances at the Philamlife Auditorium last year. He was not yet the concert master then so you'll find him sitting next to the principal violinist. Enjoy!

On Christmas day, the whole family had to rush to the Podium as his band, 11 O 4, had to perform their first gig. The all male band is composed four singers and accompanied by a piano, a guitar and my son on violin. It was a real treat as these kids belted out songs from a repertoire of Christmas tunes and some pop songs. I couldn't believe my son could be very good as he performed the solo of Kenny Loggins' Whenever I call you friend. I've never seen him practice at home. The arrangements were very well executed and they harmonize pretty well considering that they are just a newly formed band. If these kids play their cards right, I think they'll go places.

As my way of greeting each and everyone a very Merry Christmas, here's the ensemble once more in their rendition of a christmas medley.

God plays little tricks on us sometimes

2008-12-02T23:55:00.004+08:00

In one of the pre-celebrations of our 30th foundation anniversary, I saw someone who I think looked familiar although I wasn't really very sure. I may not be very good with names but I have a good memory for faces. However, the more I looked at him, the more I failed to remember who he was. Since I was kind of busy then, I dismissed the thought and went on with what I was doing.

Then, last week, I just confirmed that I knew him. He was a former student of mine. As a matter of fact, our valedictorian in 1989, our school paper's editor at the time and recipient of our Man of Letters. The reason I couldn't recognize him then was because he is suffering from an affliction. He developed a dystonia as a result of a brain stroke "...from a ruptured AVM ( Arterio-Venous Malformation, an abnormal collection of fragile blood vessels like arteries and veins, in my particular case, my brain".

His name is Richard Buencamino. When he graduated with honors, we knew he would go places. True enough, he was accepted in the U.P. College of
Medicine's INTARMED program( an accelerated 7- year medical curriculum which only accepts the top 20 males & top 20 females in the Philippine) and was awarded as one of the outstanding interns in Surgery,ENT & Family Medicine. He passed the medical board right after that and was accepted to the Combined Internal Medicine-Pediatrics(4 years instead of 6 years of Internal Medicine & Pediatrics when done separately).

How can something go wrong with all these credentials? He is young, bright and full hope. However, God has other plans for this young man. One day while he was making his rounds in the hospital, he had the attack. As if that wasn't enough, while he was recovering from this, "(he) developed a terrible illness called Dystonia, secondary to the stroke(involuntary contraction of various muscles in my body like the tongue, eyelids, esophagus and neck)" disabling most of his bodily functions like speech due to involuntary contraction of the tongue, (he communicates through a voice synthesizing device and pen and paper). He also has an impaired vision at times and has to pry his eyes wide open to see. He cannot eat solid food and has to have his sustenance pass through a tube that is connected to his belly. His left ear has gone and can only hear through his right ear. Even his balance is way off and has to be assisted to stand and walk as a result of abnormal contractions on his head and neck.

But amidst all these trials, he has not surrendered his resolve. He turned to writing poetry and drawing. In spite of all those contractions, he still tries to write and draw from his heart. If there is one thing that this young man has, it is his will to live and his passion for life. While I was browsing through his writings, I remember distinctly something that he wrote. "Good food is not served on a platter twice." I had occasion to read his poetry and I had a hard time keeping my tears to myself as I read one of his poems that speaks to his 8 year old daughter. I hope it would be alright for me to reprint it here.

LAURYN, I love you very much!
9:30 am 10-10-08 by DAD

Lauryn, my daughter, I think of you in my solitude
Feeding my Jevity cans through my feeding tube,
I cannot talk, eat or walk properly
And my head turns to the right… o, Lord help me.

But I think of my loving daughter there in the U.S.
Who still has to hear me utter those words…
Oh Lauryn I yearn to talk & be with you,
Like a normal regular father would do.

How I yearn to carry you
Up in the heavens… the sky,
Where the mighty winds can blow your lush hair,
As you graciously go by.

There are so many things I long to give you dear,
So many dreams I desire to bestow but I fear,
That they may not come true
Yet, I know that GOD can make
the radiant sun emanate from this blue.

I remember the house by the beach,
The BMW SUV your Mom & I followed
but could not reach,
Yes, that house you were supposed to have
A party your friends & barkadas will simply love

I know with every fiber of my dystonic being,
That GOD is great every single time
Like that good old mailman HE always delivers
His graces to poor lonely souls
like us who always quiver.

So keep your chin up,
Lauryn, you are blessed from above,
GOD put us here for a purpose
We in due time will discern His love.

Lauryn, Eryn, I love you very, very much!
You may not know this fact,
Because I have been a stubborn fool
in all 8 springs that has passed,
I know that we will triumph,
In GOD we will always be exuberant!

Pearl Anniversary

2008-12-02T18:42:00.016+08:00

Once again, I had been remiss with blogging and visiting my favorite blogs. I apologize. You see, we just celebrated our thirteeth anniversary. No, not my wedding, silly. I'm not that old! I am talking about my school.

Yes, we just celebrated our pearl anniversary and what a celebration! It is by far one of the happiest celebrations we ever had. Everybody worked to make this one a success. We truly functioned as one cohesive community. With the guidance and supervision of the ever supportive president of the organization we fondly call Broden, the school was alive and showed much bravado. Thanks to the present president of the student council and her minions, the activities went well without any hitch but full of glitz.

We have a lot to thank for. As a young community, we have gone through a lot. The buildings, for one, is a clear manifestation of progress. From the initial main campus sprung several more buildings that grew like mushrooms that our graduates could not recognize the whole campus anymore.

Going back to the activities, one of the highlights was a concert given by the faculty of both the grade school and the high School. I took part in the latter where I played with a band that came into being as a result of the festivities. I never imagined I will be playing with a former student who is now a co-teacher of mine. Here are some pictures I think I can share. All pictures appearing here were taken by Bro. Ceci. Thanks Bro!

Me on bass

Me trying Ryan's guitar for size

Not Ray Charles but Ralph
The Band

Rob Borja singing Run

Rocker Chris Kee

Ryan and his gizmo

Jeff Menil belting out a song

choochoowa

A presiden't's honeymoon only lasts for a short time

2008-11-08T10:30:00.006+08:00

This is a follow-up of my entry on Obama's win last Tuesday. It seems that up until now, based on the news I've been watching on the boob tube, not only is America happy about Obama's success. We see footages of people celebrating in his father's country, Kenya, the UK, China and even in Obama, Japan which obviously shares his name.

The question to ask now is for how long will the jubilation last? Just a few days after that triumphant speech Obama gave, we see Wall Street on the brink of disaster once again. What this tells me is that no matter how charismatic a leader is, this too, shall fade away and soon, if the changes people expect do not come in what they perceive as the proper time. Proper time being interpreted by many as "soon" if not "now". Even Mr. Obama knows that the change he promises to bring may not come immediately. "it may not even be for a term," he said. But constituents do not share this view. They believe that with charisma comes enigma - that although it may be a puzzle, a charismatic leader would bring change for the better on their doorsteps right away.

We, as a people, have seen this before. We were ecstatic when we deposed the dictator, strongman Marcos after living in limbo for decades. We believed that Cory could do some magic. She could have. She had the magic wand a leader should possess. She did not only have the Filipinos support but the world's respect that even Jane Fonda was seen flashing the L sign while being a presentor at the Oscar's, and witnessed the folk singing group Peter, Paul and Mary coming over on their own to celebrate with us. She had the right timing and had the capacity to rally us forward. But the expectations changed and got worse as the term was about to expire. People began referring to her as "Corazon" pointing to the heart and then saying "C or Si" (yes) "Aqui" (here pointing to the brain, "NO". No sooner than she was in office when she foiled Enrile's and/or Laurel's "Operation (or was it Oplan)God save the Queen." Thereafter, she survived several more coup attempts from people who thought she was a weakling and from whom they can wrest power. Her reforms were met with skepticism from forces coming from all directions. Her bid at a nobel prize stomped on the ground, etc. Now, we are back to square one. We have the same ills that Marcos has left us with and with a vengeance. More poverty, corruption has tripled, allegations of election cheating that caused us at least Php 728M...and we are only onlookers at the present stalemate.

I will not be surprised if Mr. Obama loses his popularity. People do have short memories in spite of whatever talents one has. Even Christ was faced with turncoats in the end. What is certain is that evil has no race, no religion, no true color. It just is and will continue to be. It used to lurk in the shadows. It is now in the open wantonly wreaking havoc at our expense.

When America sneezes, the world catches a cold!

2008-11-05T18:09:00.006+08:00

We are witnessing history as the US presidential elections unfold. Barack Obama is now the first African-American President. He will be facing a very rough road ahead as he leads a nation worried about economic crisis, two unfinished wars and global uncertainty. His election only signifies one thing - change! For instance, he won in areas never won by a Democrat for a very long time.

Obama scored an Electoral College landslide that redrew America's political map. He won states that reliably voted Republican in presidential elections, like Indiana and Virginia, which hadn't supported the Democratic candidate in 44 years. Ohio and Florida, key to Bush's twin victories, also went for Obama, as did Pennsylvania, which McCain had deemed crucial for his election hopes.

Furthermore, the majority seats in both houses which belonged to the Republicans will now be held by the Democrats. When Obama and running mate Joe Biden take their oath of office on Jan. 20, Democrats will control both the White House and Congress for the first time since 1994.

However, these details are no longer important to us, Filipinos. What we can look at his how the elections have been conducted, how the protagonists behaved during the campaign period till the end of the elections, how soon the winner is known.
The conduct of these presidentiables are admirable. They debated based on the issues, went to different forums where their opinions can be heard while our candidates try to outdo each other singing and dancing onstage.

We have learned to accept that when a candidate loses (even in the barangay elections) the losing candidate will automatically say he/she has been cheated. McCain, after several hours of counting, has already conceded defeat saying, The American people have spoken, and they have spoken clearly. Not only that, he also added:

This is an historic election, and I recognize the special significance it has for African-Americans and the special pride that must be theirs tonight," McCain said. "These are difficult times for our country. And I pledge to him tonight to do all in my power to help him lead us through the many challenges we face."

We have always been said to follow America's lead. We have listened to its music, danced the way it did, watched its movies, and others. Why can't we follow the way they conduct their elections? I say, we copy the good things about them and trash those that are not good.

In the meantime, we hope that the changes the election of Mr. Obama will bring will be beneficial for us, too. For after all, when America sneezes, the world catches a cold.

We can all smell the rat!

2008-10-31T18:50:00.006+08:00

I am on a four-day vacation. It used to be for a whole week but what can I do? The school administration does not think we all need a longer break. I had a lot of things I planned to do for these four days but as usual, I didn't know where or how to start. First there is that 26" X 36" blank canvas I purchased last Thursday hungry for paint. I have several modules to complete for school but then I am on an official educational hiatus so a moratorium on every school activity was in order. Then there were the meals I had to cook which were separate from the rest of the members of my family as I am now forbidden to eat meat. None of these were appealing until now, the last day of my vacation. So, what the heck, I'll just blog.

I had been following news on the PNP scandal. The other day, the title of the story read PNP gets refund, apology from 2 'euro generals'. Shouldn't they? However, I was of the impression that the money was still in Russia. Does this mean that apart from the confiscated money taken from retired Gen. de la Paz, the others received cash themselves? It must be. I don't expect these two shelving from their own pockets, do you?

There are many questions these people have to answer to us, taxpayers. Most of these questions have been already asked in the committee hearing headed by Sen. Santiago. Unfortunately, we have yet to hear the answers. So far, they have been giving lies upon lies to explain for the money. When Gen. de la Paz was still enroute to Manila, he gallantly said he would face all the accusations and provide an explanation for this escapade. But when the day of inquiry arrived, neither he nor his wife showed up. Instead, people who stayed in Manila like Mr. Puno, faced the committee, none of whom, seemingly knew where the money came from or who authorized it. I cannot help thinking that maybe dela Paz was given the gag order and was told not to go by those who played a big role in this caper. We see Mr. Puno and another general getting the brunt of the senator's anger, almost submitting like a meek lamb. But if I know better, I can almost see the entire plan. "Just let these senators do what they want to do. AFter all, they do not know any better."

We have seen the likes of Lozada who seemed to have first hand knowledge about the ZTE scam and yet, the forces that be are still scot free. I have this one nagging question that will remain unanswered: What could have happened to the supposed contingency fund money had not the Soviets inspector discovered it? Nobody knew, right? Would it have been returned to the treasury of the armed forces? Would the culprits, not necessarily the generals only, mind you, have kept it and deposited in Singapore?

What I know is that with the coming home of Mr. Joke Joke Bolante, this issue would be buried yet again just like its predecessors. Manila, nay, the country stinks with so many rats!

Powertone

2008-10-30T22:57:00.004+08:00

My nephew is a drummer in a band called Powertone. One of their original compositions "Kama" hit the charts in RJ underground sometime ago. It's now on video. Be the first to watch it here.

Some people just don't do their jobs right!

2008-10-13T19:14:00.006+08:00

When Jesus Christ faced Pontius Pilate, the latter, thinking that he saw that Christ was not really a dangerous man, offered to the public the release of either Christ or Barabbas, who according to Matthew was a notorius criminal as part of a Passover custom. Much to Pilate's surprise and regret, the public chose Barabbas over Christ (I was about to say Jesus but I just found out that Barabbas' first name was also Jesus) thus making him a free man once again. What this simply means is that an executive's power to grant pardon to a criminal has been in practice since Roman times.

A week has passed and still talk about the release of condemned Claudio Teehankee, Jr. who was found guilty for the slaying of 16 year old Maureen Hultman and John Chapman is still hot news. Why not? It is as controversial and as dubious as can be. The circumstances of his release caught everyone by surprise. The victims' families were not consulted nor were they informed that the government was releasing their children's exterminator. True to form, the equally controversial Gonzales, defending the President, says: "(she) does not owe anyone any explanation or advance notice" practically implying that the power is absolute. She can give it at will. There lies the difference with Roman law. Pilate had to ask the people directly who they wanted to forgive. Teehankee's pardon was said to have undergone review by a committee. And yet, Gonzales was said to have admitted talking to brother Manuel saying "Three weeks ago bago umalis iyan (Manuel)...umalis sa Switzerland, dumaan sa office ko, hopefully sabi niya baka sakaling mapalaya ang kapatid niya (Three weeks ago, before leaving for Switzerland, Teehankee's brother went to my office and said hopefully I can facilitate his brother's release)." Does this in any way say that it was a committee who has recommended pardon?

I am not totally against presidential pardon. This is if the spirit of the power to give it is justified. After all, the point behind putting men behind bars is not really to avenge but to give him time to think about what he has done, suffer the consequences of his actions and repent. When these have been met, and the person, after a good showing of good behavior, can be given back his freedom. Why deprive him of his liberty until death? This brings to the question of the release of Teehankee. Has he shown repentance? Has he paid his dues to society? I don't think so. Being confined in prison with all the amenities of a luxurious life, or so it seems, is not penance. It is a long vacation. Teehankee was condemned to serve two life terms. He has only completed 14 years in prison living in a "rich man's kubol, "a special quarters built by ex-congressman Jalosjos... (that)features a queen-size bed, a refrigerator, a private bathroom with hot and cold water and, not least, a 42-inch LCD television set with cable service." Sheesh, I don't even have a queen-size bed!

AS De Quiros points out in his column, "the murder took place as a result of a "power trip"...the shooter wanting to prove to the world and himself he was in command, he was in charge, he was the man." Now, come to think about it, most of the prisoners in Muntinlupa live miserably in their hell holes. Teehankee did not. With his release, thanks to the president, he just affirmed this belief that he has done away with murder.

1000 views of "Girl Singing"

2008-10-05T20:59:00.003+08:00

How many ways can a poem be viewed? A lot, that's what! Just as any other art form, a poem can mean a lot of things to different people. Interestingly, just right after I have done the translation of Dylan Thomas' poem, "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Goodnight", an online friend, the associate editor of Our Own Voice,Aileen Ibardaloza, wrote me asking if I would be interested to join a translation of Filam poet Eileen Tabios' The Secret Life of an Angel after Jose Garcia Villa's poem "Girl Singing".

I could not pass on this one. I knew this could be a good challenge. Neither Eileen nor Jose Villa are unknown to me. I even urged my poet friend, Arlene, to purchase the book The Anchored Angel which is a collection of poems by the late poet and was edited by Ms. Tabios. Arlene gave it to me as a gift during one of my visits to Canada.

Anyway, John had the idea of making a project of coming up with a thousand views of "Girl Singing" and in Aileen's email, there were already about 30 poets and visual artists around the world who have participated. I guess I am number 31 as I jumped immediately at the opportunity. Since there was no translation done in Filipino yet, I tried doing a direct translation into our native tongue. This was very helpful as I began to understand the poem better. Next, I experimented on a concrete poem. Please take a look at my attempts. You can find them here and the concrete poem here. Maybe you'd like to give it a try as well.

Can you guess what this is?

2008-09-25T20:14:00.005+08:00

This blog was about three months old when I did my first translation of a well-known opus into Filipino. Much to my surprise, it earned a lot of praises that my friend Batjay even made a recording and had another close friend, blogger awardee Toni blogging about it

Guess what? I did another one. But before I post it, I intended to put a link of Toni's efforts here to show my appreciation for her kind words about my post. I was looking for the entry she did and since I did not want to bother her by asking her to dig into her files, I tried to find the entry myself using google. Lo and behold, I found out that it has been plagiarized by a certain Candy as early as 2007. You'll find it here. I already posted a comment on the entry asking her to take it off her blog as it is not only illegal as it is immoral. Hopefully, she will accede to my request.

Anyway, here is my second translation. This is a villanelle I tried keeping the form while being true to the color and tone of the poem. Just like my first attempt, this is being posted in its early stages. I'm sure there will be some more revisions as I find more apt words just like the one I did with the Desiderata. Can you tell me what the original poem is and who wrote it? There is no prize if you get it correctly. Not even bragging rights, hehe.

Huwag kang susuko sa pagdating ng takipsilim

Huwag kang susuko sa pagdating ng takipsilim
Dapat dumakdak at mag-alab ang tumanda sa dapithapon
Magalit ka, magalit sa pagsapit ng dilim

Kahit pa ang matatalino’y tanggap ang kulimlim
Dahil ang kanilang salita’y di nagdulot ng ingay sa maghapon
Hindi sila sumusuko sa pagdating ng takipsilim.

Ang huli sa matitino’y kumakaway at nagbibilin
Umaasang kanilang ginawa’y parating iaahon
Magagalit sila, magagalit sa pagsapit ng dilim.

Mga naligaw ng landas na nagbunyi sa kanilang awitin
Huli na nang malamang buhay nila’y kanilang itinapon
Hindi sila sumusuko sa pagdating ng takipsilim

Ang mga maselan, sa kamataya’y kinakapos man ang paningin
Bulag na mga mata’y nagliliyab tulad ng isang bulalakaw sa nayon
Magagalit sila, magagalit sa pagsapit ng dilim.

At ikaw ama, duon sa mataas at malungkot na bangin
Sumumpa, basbasan mo ng luha aking panalangin ngayon
Huwag kang susuko sa pagdating ng takipsilim
Magalit ka, magalit, sa pagsapit ng dilim

My friend Glennis

2008-09-20T03:31:00.005+08:00

Since I began taking interest in poetry and learning how to write it, I have befriended a lot of poets around the globe. One of them is Canadian poetGlenda Hobbs, who has always been very gracious to give kind comments and useful feedback to my poetry everytime I posted something in our group. For one reason or another, I call her Glennis and never got the habit of calling her Glenda. She has several books to her name and together with her husband, Harry who has published two novels under his belt, make the rounds of Canada for poetry readings and promoting their books. Her poetry is usually about her hometown Flin Flon, Manitoba, her family and ancestors, and her cats. It was also through her that my poem "Mr. Right" was included in "Idiots of the World: Think", an anthology of short stories and poems compiled by Sable Bennett in 2002.

I first met her and her husband in person when I was invited by our common friend Arlene. It was then that I realized I can pull it off as a poet. hehe It was also then that I met several other friends who flew in from the States to meet with us. These were Tom Spencer and his wife Kathy from Indiana, Molly Critchlow from Washington, Karli Shanklin and her hubby Alfredo, who is a FilAm from nearby Seattle. Since we were all there, Arlene figured it would have been cool for us to give a poetry reading in Steveston so she made all the preparations prior to our arrival. On the eve of the reading, we were singing songs after dinner and enjoying the view at the balcony. Harry's memory is amazing. He knows practically all the lyrics of all the songs we sang while I labored over the chords figuring it out on my folk guitar.

The reading was a success. People did actually come to listen. After the reading, our gracious host thought it would be cool for me and my wife to experience an off season thanksgiving party. Everybody tossed in. If my memory serves me right, Karli brought a dozen pies, Molly brought cranberry sauce, Kathy mashed potatoes and brusselsprouts while Arlene cooked a huge turkey in the oven while Nitz cooked the rice. Those were such happy times I shall remember the rest of my life. Anyway, I digressed.

I was invited again to come to Canada twice and everytime, Glennis and Harry would be there to welcome me even if that meant they would have to fly in from Manitoba and stay in a hotel for some days. Just the same, we would all be together in Arlene's house until the wee hours of the morning. Such a sweet friend, here's something she has written coming out from one of those soirees. Glenda's poem

Having to see Tagaytay twice

2008-09-15T20:53:00.003+08:00

Last Saturday, I was invited to give a class to grade schoolers in Lemery, Batangas. The school is a small one but it is very promising with my ninong Moie and Ninang Melba at the helm. It turns out that it was their family fun day and lots of fun was had indeed. What I want with a small school is that it seems like the people are more dedicated to teaching. None of those office politics you see in big, established institutions.

My day started very early as Lemery is some two hours away from Alabang. I left the house at around 4:30 am and was picked up by my ninong's nephew who was a former student of mine. We then proceeded to pick up a dog trainer and his belgian milinois Sid, who was as gentle as a lamb.

As we were still experiencing the tail end of typhoon Marce, we were accompanied by rain and the road was very slippery. But that did not deter the driver from speeding onto traffic which made me step on an invisible brake a couple of times. The road to Lemery, as I expected was foggy.

The children were adorable. They used the paint without any inhibitions. There was a stage mother who was instructing her kid. "Not too much water, sweetheart." I just managed a smile and let the child be on her own element.

When the class was finished, we were served a nice lunch and were on our way back home.

The following day, I was on the road again, this time with my siblings and my nephew who was to ask the parents of his girlfriend for her hand in marriage. Tagalogs call this event "pamanhikan". As was customary, we brought food with us. We brought several "relyenong bangus" and "kare-kare" which will be cooked entirely at the girlfriend's house as it might spoil on the way. When we arrived at the place, it turns out the family was preparing food themselves. We were about to have an actual feast!

I was a little worried that there might be some demands from the family as relatives are present, too. It turned out that the father was a swell guy who, like my siblings and I, loves to read. We were offered several Discovery magazines, Reader's Digest to while away the time while the food was being prepared. My eldest sister was able to borrow about seven books! But I digressed. After lunch, we all sat down to discuss the purpose of our visit. The father did not object. As a matter of fact, he just gave his blessings and left it to the couple to decide on their own. He only wished that the wedding be done in their place, for my nephew and his family to be there on the eve of the wedding "not to work or anything but to socialize with his family and relatives" which was very cool, and not too many ninongs and ninangs.

Everything went smoothly as planned. It all went well that surely, something must go awry and it did. My car lost its brakes! The good thing is that we were already in Marikina. If that happened in hilly Sta. Rosa or the SLEX, we were goners for sure! I immediately took the car to the mechanic to have it checked and we were on our way.

Just to make sure, I took the car for a thorough check-up this afternoon. The verdict, the brake pads are gone. I also had to have my caliper overhauled. Hopefully, I've seen the last of the car's problems.

Malapot na Tubig

2008-09-10T14:47:00.009+08:00

I read a very chilling news story this morning about a young 32 year old mother who forced her children, aged 4, 3 and 2, to drink a bottle of liquid toilet bowl cleaner and having herself drink the same out of desperation due to extreme poverty, midnight of Monday in Magdalena, Laguna. This made me shiver in fright because I know that there are people in dire straits everywhere in the country and that this story can be repeated over and over again. A person with an empty stomach cannot think logically. The pangs of hunger coupled with sleepless nights is a deadly combination which can lead to depression with catastrophic effects.

What is frightening is that in a land where there are people who live in extreme poverty like ours, crime and other related activities can and will take place. The young mother, depressed and hungry could have opted to steal, join a bunch of thugs and sow terror, or resort to drug peddling like the others who have broken the law just to gain leverage in life. However, she did not choose to. Instead, she decided to end it all, depriving her kids of a life, which she was certain would have been lived in misery anyway. Whose heart would not bleed for a parent, who out of desperation, will decide to kill the little angels whom she has carried for nine months, fed, bathed and cared for lovingly in her arms? Who would not be sympathetic to a life full of misery that one would force her children to death and commit suicide herself?

In another story a justice of the appellate court has been dismissed by the Supreme Court due to grave misconduct while some of his peers were either suspended or reprimanded as a result of the battle for management control of Meralco by the Lopezes and the GSIS. Allegedly, there is a Php10M - Php50M bribe being discussed. This is nothing compared to the ZTE broadband deal which seems to have died a natural death. And to think how magnanimous in proportion the powers that be are quarelling over in that event in our history. Then I get to thinking, yes, there are people who have been numb to the sorry plight of our countrymen. They have been numbed by greed and power. We must remember that a great deal of our misfortune is brought about by corruption, an ill which our leaders seem to have perfected. A malaise which they have been afflicted with making them lose their conscience much so for the lone witness of the ZTE deal Lozada advise them to "moderate the greed."

We must face it. We are living in a country where majority of the populace is clinging to a knife for dear life. A hungry man will not care whether he goes to hell or not. How much beating can they take? There will come a time when these rich, powerful, unconscionable, sordid men and women will not have a fence too high to protect them, there will not be enough bullets for their guns to kill the multitude of people wanting to merely get a whiff of the comforts they cherish, there will not be enough cordon sanitaire to fend off thieves wanting some cash from their deep pockets and not enough armor to shield them from a hungry mob. Edwin Markham says it best in his Man with the Hoe when in the last stanza he says:

O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
How will the future reckon with this Man?
How answer his brute question in that hour
When whirlwinds of rebellion shake all shores?
How will it be with kingdoms and with kings--
With those who shaped him to the thing he is--
When this dumb Terror shall rise to judge the world,
After the silence of the centuries?

Sometime in 2005, I wrote a tagalog poem entitled Malapot na Tubig which appeared in the first chapbook produced by Pinoy Poets and in an American ezine produced by Filipino expats called Our Own Voice. Never did I know that I would be reading the same story in real life. I am republishing it here and it goes like this:

Malapot Na Tubig
Ni Rolly delos Santos

Ipikit mo ang iyong mga mata anak.
Humimlay ka sa matigas na sahig.
Pawiin mo ang mga bantulot,
Pabayaan mong liparin
mga agam-agam sa himpapawid.
Kukumutan kita ng telang manipis,
mabigyan man lamang ng konting lunas
pangangatal ng iyong mga ngipin.
Sasabayan ko ng yakap na mahigpit
nang ika'y makatulog nang ubod himbing.
Sana'y iyong patawarin
Amang hungkag at nagdarahop
Pinalaki ang iyong hubad na isipang
Walang natutunan dahil sa karalitaan.
Ininom nating malapot na tubig
tanging lunas upang mapatid ang gutom natin.
Bukas, kung sakali mang ito'y dumating
Sa langit na ang ating gising

© Rolly delos Santos

Another year older

2008-09-08T05:32:00.004+08:00

It's officially over. I am now a year older. The only thing about being born during the last quarter of the year is that it seems like you've been just as old anyway. People count your age at the coming of the year. It is the years they find the difference to without minding the months, right. So, come January, I will already be a year older again.

This year was spent without a bang. I decided to just stay home with my family, waiting for my cellphone to ring and reply to well-wishers. There is a natural high celebrating it quietly. My loving wife who had to go on overtime yesterday went to the market very early in the morning, cooked lunch that consisted of beef kaldereta, a stewed beef which to me is like the Indian bhiryani, especially that she uses coconut milk to thicken the sauce, and, of course, pancit bihon, thin noodles cooked in soy sauce, chicken bits, assorted veggies, for long life. How simple can that get? Yet, we had a feast.

For dinner, it was my turn to cook. I cooked some seafood pasta and I think it went well, too. Although I haven't exactly perfected the recipe as it seem to be wanting of something, we had a good dinner.

Actually, the splurging was done last Friday. Hubby and wife, Ollie and Kathy are also celebrating their birthdays this month and decided we should all go to Wensha Spa. Now, if you haven't been there yet, I think it would be a good idea to treat yourself and your wife/partner for once. It's with all the amenities of a spa like jacuzzi, steam and sauna baths, a one-hour massage and an eat-all-you-can feature - all available for an eight-hour stay.

I arrived at the place around eight and my friends were already eating. I started with rice, chicken and vegetables. The penne pesto (well, it seemed like it was pesto) didn't seem delectable as it looked too dry. After that, we splurged on shabu-shabu. We had all those meat and fish ball thingies, thin white noodles, vegetables and whatever we can throw on the broth.

We chatted awhile then decided to part with the ladies and take a shower. Us guys went to the steam bath where we stayed about twenty minutes. We also tried the sauna bath but I was right in front of the huge furnace and couldn't stand it. Then off we went for a massage. We were lucky to be given a room exactly for the three of us. After the massage, we went out again in our robes, (it was very comfortable) and met the ladies to eat some more. We went home around 1:30 am. And we have not touched a single alcohol! That's another new in our long list of agenda everytime we went out. That was fun. We sure will be doing it again. See you there soon!

Buwan ng Wika

2008-09-02T05:09:00.006+08:00

Lubos na naiiba ang nakaraang Biyernes sa aming paaralan. Sa unang pagkakataon, naisipan ng administrasyon na ipagdiwang ang buwan ng wika sa naiibang paraan. Nuong mga taong nakalipas, naalala ko pa na talagang nagmimistulang piyesta ang huling araw ng pagdiriwang at ang bawat silid aralan na napalalamutian ng mga banderitas, ay napupuno ng kung anu-anong pagkaing pilipino. Mayruon pang nagdadala ng isang buong lechon, umaapaw na pansit, manok, kaldereta, at kung anu-ano pa. Subalit tulad ng pagdiriwang namin ng pasko, sumusobra ang handang pagkain sa bawat silid at ito ay kadalasang nasisira lamang o itinatapon matapos maipamigay ang sobra. Alangang namang pilit naming kainin at ubusin ang natira hanggang sa kami ay maimpatso, hindi ba? Kaya naman unti-unti namin itong pinalitan ng kung ano pa ang makapagbibigay tingkad sa pagseselebra ng wikang pambansa. Kaya nga, nuong Biyernes, naisipan nilang gawin itong isang mala-costume party kung saan ang bawat isa ay kinailangang pumasok ng paaralan sa kasuotang tunay na pilipino. Isama na rito ang iba't-ibang palabas at pagtutunggali katulad ng G. Lakan at Bb. Lakambini, sabayang pagbigkas at ang eksebisyon ng iba't-ibang pagdiriwang na ginaganap sa bansa tulad ng Ati-atihan, Sinulog, Dinagyang, Pintados atbp, kung saan naglaban laban ang mga piling grupo ng ikatlo at ikapat na lebel ng hayskul. Ang grupo ng aking bunso na nagpakita ng Kadayawan ang nagwagi ng unang gantimpala.

Ang sarap ding pagmasdan ng bawat isa sa kani-kanyang suot. Mayruong dumating na nakadamit muslim at napakamakulay ng kanilang kasuotan. May mga dumating na nakasuot panabong, ngunit walang dalang manok, (marahil ay kinain na), may dumating na naka katipunero (tulad ni Mr. Elloso na kumpletos rekados pati na ang suksukan ng baril at sumbalilo), may dumating na Ifugao, sabay na pakita ng "Php10.00 bawat litrato", may ilang Don Santiago delos Santos, Kabesang Tales at kung sinu-sino pa. Mistulang kamangha-mangha ay ang aming bagong Presidente na dumating na naka gwardiya-sibil na ayon sa aking mga kaibigan ay tunay na kasuotan nuong unang panahon. Ang ganda ng kanyang helmet na suut-suot. DAhil ako ay hindi masyadong mapangahas sa mga ganitong bagay, minabuti ko na lang na mag-barong. Ang biro ko nuon sa kanila ay mag-aamerikana ako. Hindi ba't sila Jose Rizal naman ay nakaganitong kasuotan? Nang sinabi nilang hindi daw pwede, sabi ko naman ay huwag silang mag-alala't ako nama'y naka-bahag sa ilalim, tulad ng mga kapatid natin sa Benguet at Baguio. Ano nga kaya't ginawa ko ito. Ang ganda ng pagtanggap dun sa isang pinuno na dumating ng naka-bahag nuon sa huling SONA ni GMA, hindi ba?

Tunay na napakaganda ng ating kultura. Sayang nga lamang at tayo ay lubusan nang naimpluwensiyahan ng mga banyaga, lalo pa't ginawa nila tayong mamimili imbis na maging taga-gawa. Tsinelas na lang, kailangan pang iangkat natin mula sa Brazil upang tayo ay magmukhang kagalang-galang sa ibang tao. Ilan sa ating mga kababayan ang gumagasta ng malaki upang sila ay pumuti at tumangos ang ilong? Bakit kailangang magkulay mais ang buhok ng ilan sa atin na kung tingnan ko naman ay hindi naman bagay sa ating kayumangging kulay? Para sa akin kasi, nakakahihiya ang magpumilit maging isang hindi naman tunay na ikaw.

Some people are just too dumb lucky!

2008-08-24T06:20:00.003+08:00

Yesterday, I had to wake up early as I had to accompany my eldest son to the hospital who was due for an operation. He developed an epidermal cyst on his right thigh which alarmed me and my wife. Thank God that it looked harmless to the doctor although she said it has to be removed just the same. We will know for sure as soon as the result of the biopsy comes out.

So, with nothing to do, I bought a newspaper, tried doing the sudoku and the crossword puzzles, when both cannot be finished (had to redo the sudoku on another paper at home as I used ballpen which cannot be erased) I read the paper which as usual contained news on the MILF and the GSIS vs. Meralco. What struck me was that it also contained a story on the 15 richest monarchs in the world as covered by Forbes Magazine. It turns out that the king of Thailand is the richest with a net worth of $35 billion and the king of Swaziland as number 15 with $200 million. The list is as follows:

1. King Bhumibol Adulyadej (Thailand - 80 yrs. old) $35 billion
2. Sheikh Kalifa bin Zayed Al Nahyan - (UAE, 60 yrs old) $23 billion
3. King Abdullah bin Abdul Aziz (Saudi Arabia, 84 yrs old) $21 billion
4. Sultan Haji Hassanal Bolkiah (Brunei, 62 yrs. old) $20 billion
5. Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid (Al Maktoum Dubai - 58 yrs. old) $18 billion
6. Prince Hans-Adam von und zu Liechtenstein (Liechtenstein, 63 yrs. old)$5 billion
7. Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani (Qatar, 56 yrs. old) $2 billion
8. King Mohammed VI (Morocco, 46 yrs. old) $1.5 billion
9. Prince Albert II (Monaco, 50 yrs. old) $1.4 billion
10. Sultan Qaboos bin Said (Oman, 67 yrs. old) $1.1 billion
11. Prince Karim Al Hussein (Aga Khan, 71 yrs. old) $1 billion
12. Queen Elizabeth II (UK, 82 yrs. old) $650 million
13. Sheikh Sabah Al-Ahmad Al-Jaber Al-Sabah (Kuwait, 79 yrs. old) $500 million
14. Queen Beatrix Wilhelmina Armgard (Netherlands, 70 yrs. old) $300 million
15. King Maswati III (Swaziland, 40 yrs. old) $200 million

Looking at the list, my wife, exasperated just looking at the list said, "samantalang tayo, utang yan" (we may have that much although in the form of debt). Come to think about it. How much does the country owe now? Maybe we can get these guys to donate a billion, each?

What piqued my interest is that it seems that these guys really had it good in life. What did they do to deserve this vast wealth? Why are they so special? I am sure they also eat for sustenance, go to the toilet to relieve themselves, cater to the same human needs. My only consolation is that knowing that they are human beings like me, they also have their own problems. Maybe even more. Kings have been assassinated even by their own blood, solely because of the power and the money they have. Maybe the real monarch who thinks about the common man, works just as hard to keep his nation afloat, and that is not an easy job. Who knows? All I know is that I am contented with my family, a small house on a small piece of land I call my own (well as soon as I have paid the mortgage completely, hehe) afford a few luxuries in life. And that is all I prayed for. So I will always work hard and stay poor.

A Lecture in Makati

2008-08-18T20:28:00.003+08:00

Having worked in Alabang for so long, I have not been attuned with the streets of Makati. I am a virtual tanga when it comes to the city. Last Saturday, I had to attend a lecture given by Paolo Manalo who is here on a short respite from his tedious studies in Scotland, initiated by my poetry group, Pinoy Poets at the Filipinas Heritage Library. Being a self-taught, poet enthusiast, I would like to take advantage of the opportunity to listen to a lecture in poetry and learn. I need all the help I can get no matter in what form. So, venue is not a problem for me. All I have to do is ask around. Well, I cheated a little. I coaxed my daughter who works within the city to take me there. It proved to be a little costly.

First, I had to lure my daughter to go to Makati on a Saturday, her rest day. To do that, I told her we were going to eat at Avenetto at the Glorietta. My other daughter learned about it and wanted to tag along, and she did. Lunch was splendid! We ordered two plates of the seafood pesto, a chef's salad and a pizza. I consumed one plate while they shared with the other one. What can I do? I go bonkers with good pasta. The chef's salad was so-so. Not as good as Italianni's or even Sbarro but on a hungry stomach, that'll do.

Here's the catch. My daughters did not know where the library was either. As it was still early, we went window shopping, my first born found a shoe to her liking, bought it and took me to Landmark. "Okay, this is Makati Avenue. Where did they say the Library was?" I had no clue. My friend just told me it is along the avenue. Yo make matters worse, my battery was about to die on me. I told my kids to go head for home. I will find my way.

I asked around around but nobody could give me a response with complete certainty. When I reached Ayala Museum, I knew the library would be at the other side. How do I get there? I couldn't find the imderpass to cross the street. I texted my friend, praying that my battery would be enough to send and receive a reply. He did and confirmed that the library was in front of the Manila Pen. I decided to go back to Greenbelt and just grab a cab! I never take my car to Makati. I don't want to get lost and waste precious gasoline.

To make the story short, I found it. The lecture was held at the Filipiniana section at the basement of the library. It was biting cold down there. Too bad, we didn't have time to browse their collection. The lecture was very informative. Paolo talked about how and why we rhyme the way we do. He gave examples of sonnets written by Juan Salazar aka J. F. Sinukuan, Angela Manalang Gloria, Jose Garcia Villa and others. The lecture was wittingly entitled, Our love for Glove Doves. How many words rhyme with love? Not too many! Glove, dove, and near rhymes like of, grove, prove, jove. There were other things he discussed but I don't think you'd be interested anyway.

After the lecture, we had dinner at Cafe Bola! (So that's where the freaking underpass is!) and went for a bucket of beer at Oody's, both in Greenbelt. All in all, I'd say it was a well spent day. Can't wait for the next lecture.

Inherent powers

2008-08-11T19:49:00.002+08:00

I had been absent from the blogging world for almost two weeks since my sister's passing. Not that I had nothing to write about but my pen, or should I say my fingers couldn't find the words on my keyboard. Suffice it to say that I was not in the mood. The words just could not come out. My sister's passing, although was expected, still brought pain as she is the first sibling to pass away. At any rate, life has to move on for after all, struggles, pain and suffering are all for the living. I might as well face it now and wake from my useless slumber.

I was reading the paper this morning when an article written by Mr. Neal Cruz caught my attention. In the article, Mr. Neal Cruz writes about how the city government of Quezon City plans to widen a sidewalk in Novaliches without paying the rightful owners.

When I was still studying, I was taught that there are three inherent powers of the state. These are police power, taxation and eminent domain. Eminent domain is the right of the state "to seize a citizen's private property, expropriate property, or rights in property with due monetary compensation..." A landowner, whose land sits on a track of land that is proposed to be part of a public hiway, for example, cannot deny the state to have his/her land expropriated, but with due compensation. This can be what the Quezon City is probably exercising when it told residents of the Susano Road to give up three meters of their property for its sidewalk widening project. However, the city government seems to have abused its power for it does not want to pay for the land it is getting from the rightful owners. Never mind that the cost of land in this part of the country is at Php30,000 per square meter. The city government can always pay for a lesser price.

The thing is it does not want to spend a single centavo. Too bad that not only does City Administrator Tadeo Palma insists that they shall not pay for the expropriated land, the owners will retain ownership. What does this mean? Several things: The owners have land that they cannot use, the commercial establishments lose merchandise in favor of illegal sidewalk vendors and unfortunately, would probably be asked to pay for the land's real estate tax! What utter misfortune lies in wait for these land owners? What have they done to deserve this injustice?

Hanging On

2008-07-21T19:32:00.006+08:00

My sister is fighting for her life. She's been bed-ridden for more than three years now. She is so weak that we never informed her that my aunt and my mother, to whom she was very close, have passed away lest she goes into depression which might have caused her early passing.

Like me, she is diabetic and has been one since I was a small child. Too bad that diabetes is an affliction for the hard-headed, she ate with gusto even if she knew it's bad for her. Her organs, most especially her kidneys are failing now. Edema has set in and she's very bloated and is no longer cognizant of her surroundings. Her eldest daughter who resides with her family in the States has come home to be reunited with her mother. All we can do now is pray and request that friends and acquaintances do, too. Please say a little prayer for her tonight. Thank you.

Hanging On

Her eyes have long held had that empty stare.
She gazes through you, seeing nothing
or as if trying hard
to figure out who stands near her.

Not today. As a matter of fact,
they even hinted a smile
as she looks at the tree beside her window.

Two birds land on the tree with a mouthful.
She hears chirps or are they cries for help?
She can only guess these are hungry birdlings

for she's been bed-ridden for years.

The doctor arrives toting a grocery bag
filled with medications.
He touches her hand, carefully makes a tourniquet
out of surgical gloves,
starts looking for her veins.

The tweeting becomes fainter and soon stops

as the pair of birds regurgitate and feed

their young.

His task proves to be harder than usual.
He taps her with his fingers several times
but no success. He tries the other hand
to see if he can find the elusive carrier of blood.

All flesh and bones, feathers scarce, their veins

visible and look like they might explode

at the lightest touch.

They nibble and munch never leaving any morsels

to be strong for the coming weeks.

Her husband transfers the food from blender
to the canister. Begins to pound on an anti-biotic
he shreds into tiny pieces to fit the tube.
The doctor finds a vein and pricks it with a needle.
The thrust is like a stab in his heart. This is his mother.

He connects the tube with the IV
and thinks about the birdlings in the nest.
Soon, those birds will learn to fly,
while she will have to close her eyes.

-------------

My sister passed away this afternoon, June 21, 2008. She is now at peace and with our Lord. Thank you for your prayers.

Events

2008-07-17T04:08:00.009+08:00

Last Friday, I stood as principal sponsor at a wedding to a very good friend. A wedding has always been a very happy occasion. It is a testimony of love and devotion, a sworn committment to stand by your partner no matter what. Well, this couple is a very happy one and making a committment when you're at the top of things is not so hard to fulfill. I wish them the best.

the entourage

the guys

with friends at the reception

The following day, I attended an exhibit of the famous Saturday Group, a group of reknowned painters that was formed forty years ago and boasts of having in its roster luminaries that had been named national artists like Cesar Legaspi. The group paid homage to Malang, a well-respected practitioner and probably the oldest painter alive today. I managed to have a picture with him taken by friend and member,Omi Reyes.

>Me with Malang

Finally, Tuesday was my youngest daughter's birthday. We celebrated it with a simple dinner at Mary Grace at the Serendra. Unfortunately, Mickey couldn't come as he had a class at the time. Nevertheless, it was a fun evening enjoying it with just my children and my loving wife. Truly a night to remember.

dining al fresco

<Me with my lovely wife

Still-life # 1

2008-07-04T11:12:00.005+08:00

I have always been fascinated with watercolor paintings. I marvel at watercolorists for I know how hard the medium is. To me, watercolor is by far the most challenging of all. For one thing, one must know how watercolor behaves. One should know how to "bleed" and control color and water and turn the piece into a beautiful harmony, an explosion of colors that looks like everything you see has been a product of serendipity and yet, I know that the composition has been meticulously planned. I only look at watercolorists with envy as they dip their brushes in water and then, with a thick amount of color, playfully apply this onto a paper. There are two ways this can be done. One is applying the color on paper that is as wet as something that has been left to drench out in the rain, or dry as an arid desert. I try using watercolor from time to time. Well, I get as far as the playful part but my works are more serendipitous than they are planned. See for yourself.

> 20" X 24 1/4"
Still life # 1

The Utopian Dream

2008-06-22T21:12:00.011+08:00

My friend, fellow painter and quite successful I might add, Omi Reyes, will be having a one man show in Singapore. As part of his exhibit, his wife, fellow classmate, Tutit Reyes, asked me to make a write-up for the show. I am reproducing it here for safekeeping. I am also attaching two of his former works for your enjoyment.

tito rolly

------------------

Man has always been in search of that ideal place where one is completely satisfied with what he sees, smells and feels to the point of a sensory overload. A place where a perfect socio-politico legal system exists, where one can communicate with God through His creations making His word translatable in all languages that leaves man without any ambiguities and where the gap between the rich and the poor is totally non-existent. This longing for the ideal is brought about by the awareness that we live in an imperfect world and is present with different cultures as attested to by literature that is replete with the concept that may have started with the Greek poet Hesiod and Plutarch extending to Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, or the German's The Land of Cokaygne and that ever famous work of Sir Thomas More - Utopia.

However elusive this dream of a perfect place has been, artist Omi Reyes has succeeded in giving us a glimpse of that world albeit within the confines of his canvass, thus illusory, making for at least a visual concept of a place we have dreamt of since time immemorial available and within our grasps, forever etched in the confines of our minds, giving solace to our desolate existence that is full of despair and want and fodder to our hungry souls. This he managed to do using his rich imagination translated unabashedly by flawless renditions of harmonious colors through excellent brushstrokes, hard work and a natural flair for what is truly beautiful.

As a painter, Omi Reyes has undergone several transformations starting from the simple finger painting technique which epitomizes a primeval urge to paint devoid of other implements but his hands, and yet, one can see the complexity of his creative mind for the images conjured by this seemingly raw technique is anything but simple. His landscapes alone can attest to his vivid memory juxtaposing a scene he once saw with his ideal world. The exuberant landscapes illumined by the sun are reminiscent of a stage play where a crafty lightsman distributes hundreds of volts into the right places to suggest a particular mood. This is usually accented by birds in flight making us feel free and unbothered by the pressures of our day to day problems. Echoes of the Valley and Threads of Light are masterpieces we know are teeming with the wonders of nature not of this world but from the rich mind of a master craftsman, a true artist. Through this style, one can feel that he truly knows his medium and speaks to us directly from the heart.

Then, there are those flowers that evoke a feeling of perfection. Once again, we see the mastery of the artist at composition, sometimes radial evoking a life continuum that goes on and on, sometimes linearly upright as if wanting to touch the heavens inducing one to remember his long forgotten dreams and ambitions. Omi has paid very close attention to detail that one can actually see the veins bringing life to his horticultural world. The brilliance of his rich hues is even more captivating than an actual bouquet of flowers one can almost smell the fragrance or feel the softness of the petals that one forgets it is a canvass one is looking at.

His semi-abstractions of multi-planed panels coupled with realism give us an idea of how he works his compositions. Unlike any other abstract artist, there are just no accidents in his compositions. There are no fortuitous effects one sees in Jackson Pollock or Franz Kline. Every single unit has been planned well. The textured background panels, the placing of the bird perched on a tiny twig and the contrasting colored appliques are well-planned that they succeed in taking us back to our ephemeral subsistence.

Lastly, there would have been nothing extraordinary with his attempt at music had it not been done on canvass. His musical instruments cascade with musical notes both lyrical and enigmatic in its execution. He need not play the instrument per se for his canvass is poetry put to music in its purest form. Looking at his Harmony in Still Life and Harmony in Silence can be compared to listening to Beethoven's symphonies or Chopin's Etudes.

If there is one common denominator throughout all these metamorphoses, it would be Omi's search for perfection and succeeding in attaining it. Omi has mastered all the techniques he had invented through sheer tenacity, perseverance and wit. He has given us a view of a perfect world defying the evils brought about by our shortcomings. Through his canvasses he reminds us that somewhere there is a place where there exists a balance between transcendence and reality, of abstraction and concrete, of imagination and fact, if only we look and work hard to achieve it. Going to an Omi Reyes exhibit has always been like living the Utopian dream.

"Harmony in Still-life"

My friend Arlene

2008-06-17T19:40:00.004+08:00

I have written about my friend Arlene Lawson a couple of times. For those of you who haven't known her yet, she was a Canadian/American who I have befriended when I joined Writersvillage, an online university for writers sometime in 1998. We had been online friends since then and our relationship was strengthened when she came to the country to visit my family. Our story is a living testimony of how the internet, in spite of the horror stories we've read or heard over time, can be a tool for lasting friendly relationships. For those of you who missed this story, you can read it here.

When Arlene passed away on December 8, 2006, a huge part of my being has been taken away. She was not only a friend but "she was my mentor, my muse in poetry, my confidante who always listened when I whined, laughed at my antics, my source of energy everytime I felt so-so, my fan who believed in everything I do, my patron who had taken me to places I would not have dared go". As if to add insult to injury, my mother who was bedridden and suffering from Alzheimer's disease for several years, died two weeks after while my closest aunt (possibly the only one I have known) and best friend, passing on several months earlier. That was a very lonely year for me.

Yesterday, I was very happy to receive from our common friend, Bob Wands, a book of her poems together with pictures, which I think summarizes what she was when she was alive. Bob (her best friend) is co-owner with Arlene of an online poetry e-zine which also saw print called "The Country Garden Mouse", a namesake of her once -upon-a -time souvenir shop in Steveston, BC. During the memorial service, Bob "was given permission to extract from her computer all of her writing, and many of her pictures." Bob painstakingly sorted out these pictures that "have a relationship to the poetry, intending to chronicle ... from (our) many conversations - were the important periods of her life." AS a result, this book aptly titled, "The Real Arlene" is born. Reading this book reminded me of long conversations with her over the phone, the internet and during my stay in Canada.

Arlene is by far one of the best poets I have come across in my years of stay in the university. Just to show you how good she was, here is a poem she wrote about the most painful experience she ever had. In November of 1959, she lost her 23 month-old baby, Theresa, (she could have been the same age as I) on her lap when she was killed by a drunk driver. In this poem, we can feel the anguish of a mother who has cared so much for her daughter only to lose her so soon. The brevity of the poem and its simple imagery makes it very powerful for me. Here it is:

Empty now

Still

Pack away
forsaken playthings.
still damp diapers
folded dresses

But...Who
WHO

Wipes the final
finger smudges
from off
the
mirror?

Arlene Lawson

A useless obligation and more.

2008-06-11T19:15:00.004+08:00

I am not very fond of June. This is not because the month ends a long hibernation from work. While it puts to an end to an enjoyable summer, tours I have embarked on included, experiencing new cultures, making new and enforcing relationship with old friends, meeting new acquaintances and learning a lot of things, there is a different reason why I do not like the month of June. June is the time to work on my obligations, one of which is to register my old car at the LTO, purchase a new insurance policy and worse, take my car to an emission testing center to ensure that it is still street-worthy. Emission testing - what a hassle and a lot of waste of my valuable time. I would not have minded taking my car for testing if I am assured that the procedure does what it purports to do. Lessen, if not totally eliminate the terrible pollution on our air. What makes me angry is that I see vehicles which have just been registered, hence, supposedly have passed the test emitting a lot of dangerous smoke. Public buses and trucks are major culprits and the government could not do a thing about it.

Sadly, pollution in the country is so bad that this is the first thing my foreign friends who come for a visit, notice. Rightfully so because I have occasion to visit several countries and it has always been a delight to inhale their fresh air. Not so in the coutry. Try deep breathing and you won't last a single breath. The smog will stop your attmept making your lungs heavy and longing for clean air. If only government had a good political will to stop pollution, we could at least solve this problem. However, when police authorities do not care, probably because they have been bribed to look the other way, no emission testing or any procedure for that matter, will work. In the meantime, I have to worry about finding time to register my car and all the ramifications that go with it for I work on the days that these government agencies hold office. Pray tell me why these agencies do not open on weekends?

------------

Talking about cars, the increase in the price of gasoline seem to be unstoppable. Nothing can be done about this. This is a world-wide phenomenon. What we don't realize is that this entails a more horrific scenario than we think. It is possible that we are running out of this very important resource. Think about it. It took billions of years for an oil deposit to be built and this is not replenishable. With the way we consume this commodity, it is not impossible that we have used up all the oil this planet can provide. When this happens, we will have to go back to riding horses or walk our way to our destinations. No more planes or ships or even fast cars to take us to any far-away country or province in a short span of time. We will probably have to use the same kind of ships used during the galleon trade to go to America, for example. That is unless we find a substitute for oil.

Solar energy perhaps but research on this technology may been stunted by the powers that be for it would mean business loss for oil companies. However, with the advent of the depletion of the oil reserves, now is the time to look for substitutes and Filipinos, if given the chance and the encouragement, can face this problem head on.

We must be doing a good job

2008-06-03T21:36:00.003+08:00

Last Wednesday, I was out of the house for a cig when my son called me from the house. He said my eldest daughter who is now working for a car company, has something to say. Just like her mom who has a penchant for ceremonies, I was wondering what the announcement would be. As I was told that she wanted me to be the first to hear the news, I entered the gate and was about to go inside the house. However, before I could enter, she already met me at the door. Secretly, she whispered that she was given her yearly bonus. Much to my surprise, she gave me 2K. I asked her how much was her bonus but she said I did not have to know. (Of course!) Then, she called her mom and gave her mom her share. Then, she called on her siblings, who was jumping with joy upon receiving her surprise. My eldest son, in jest, even kissed her footsteps while the youngest gave her kisses on her cheeks. Then, we partook of the ice cream that she brought home.

Of course, she did not have to do that. She already shares with some of the household expenses. When I was growing up, we had a neighbor who was berating her son for not showing utang na loob (debt of gratitude) to his parents for having reared him and sent him to school. At the time, I thought that was right but my parents told me that there was something wrong with her logic. It is the parents' obligation to rear their children, give them shelter and clothing, send him to school and all that. But, the child has no obligation to his parents for bringing him into this world. The child never chose who his/her parents will be, in the first place. If a child decides to take care of his aging parents, feed them and give them a share of his/her earnings, that would be out of the graciousness of his/her heart, not out of duty or obligation.

Nevertheless, I rememeber the first time I earned money. It was during the first quarter storm and ironically, the country was visited by a strong typhoon and hundreds of people were stranded in Central Luzon. The government ordered nutribuns (I wonder if anybody can remember these) to be sent to those stranded along the roads of Pampanga en route to Manila. The producer of these nutribuns were neighbors and could not keep up with the demands to supply the needed product unless they work round the clock. The solution was to employ us, the neighborhood gang, for the night shift and I got the chance to work even for just a night. I remember having earned Php10.00. (Maybe we were underpaid but we did not care. What we knew was that we had fun). I offered my mom half of it and she was very pleased. When my eldest daughter Now I know what that money meant to my mom.