The Land with 6 Rings

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

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?

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.

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?

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

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

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?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Think outside of the box

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)