How Time Flies

I couldn't be any happier.I have been blessed!

Twenty years ago, I was a young father taking my first child to school. While I was not a really a nervous wreck, still, I was a bit jittery thinking how my daughter would cope in a new environment.  Added to that is the pressure of knowing that she was only staying in her classroom, safe under the care of a teacher, for half the day and will be spending the other half waiting for me in my office (that included having to stay late for meetings).   I was at a loss at what I should do. I have to work and at the same time take care of my kid.  Like any normal Filipino parent, my first option was to order  her to sleep the afternoon away sans the usual motivation parents say to their young children,  "sleep so you can grow faster."  And yet, I couldn't.  I never believed it as a toddler anyway. So, I let her be, left her there to study her lessons, if she would.

My eldest daughter was the one who experienced having to commute the long ride from my home to school which was about more than an hour away. She would amuse herself by singing songs not ordinarily sang by girls her age to the amusement of fellow commuters. I remember her singing songs I often listened to like songs from the Swing Out Sisters, Basia and all those jazz performers, and Lisa Loeb.  The rainy season was the worst. We, together with other teachers who lived in the same area, would queue in Edsa, waiting for a jeepney. The mornings were lighter as we rode with a neighbor up until EDSA, take a bus from there going to Magallanes from where we rode the school bus..    There was a time when the public bus we were riding lost its brakes and collided with another bus.  I wasn't fast enough to hold my daughter at the sudden impact and she bumped her head on a railing.  She suffered a lump on her head. But as a true trooper, she never cried.  Nevertheless, I couldn't help getting angry at myself having allowed that to happen.   The following year, we bought our first car, would you believe,  a super old Taunus.  I would like to make believe that it was an old vintage car and have other people thinking I was a young Don Corleone.  But who was I kidding? It was nothing but just plain old - antiquated valueless piece of junk body and engine!  As the saying goes, "Beggars cannot be choosy" and I was just lucky we had a ride.  The good thing about it was that I was just learning how to  drive.  So, the greatest advantage was that  if the other drivers could not get out of my way fast enough, I will let them hit that old junk of a car which was solid as steel and feel sorry for their vehicle! I had nothing to lose.

Anyway, two years after, it was my second child's turn to be in school.  What I remember vividly during the first  day was that I couldn't find him when I picked him up.  Guess where I found him - up on a tree hanging up there like a monkey.  As the years rolled by, and before it hit me,  the third one was already hopping into the car on the way to school with breakfast in tow. Another two more years after, the last one joined us. I now had full custody of my four kids answerable for their safety to a wife who would undoubtedly raise hell and high water should any of them got hurt.

 Each of  them had different complications. The second began to take up violin lessons and boy did he practice.  Every time it was time to go home, I just had to listen and trace from where that "Mary had a little Lamb" or "Long, Long Ago" tune was coming from and voila! There he was. It was not, as the saying goes, all for naught.  He became the concert master in school, the only guy from CSB who auditioned for the DLSU orchestra, got in and even became its concert master, too.  My wife and I made sure that the whole family watched every performance he had which continued even when he finished college.

The third one was a cute darling.  Our young actress, she was the diplomat who could charm her way and before you knew it, you would practically end up begging to offer what  she wanted to have.  There were two incidents that got me and my wife crying of laughter when she was in the lower grades.  Both instances involved her teachers, her assignment vs. her wits.  I could no longer recall the exact chronological order of these two events but I think the first one was when she was in grade 1.  She was supposed to bring a bottle that had a sprouting mongo seed which she planted, watered and took care of.  Come presentation day, she forgot the same.  Fearing to get a failing mark, she took a bottle displayed by the window and had it checked by the teacher.  Voila! a 90!  The second time was when she was when she forgot the handouts in a subject.  What happened was the teacher asked them to read their handout silently.  When she couldn't find the handout, again, fearing that she would be scolded, took out another handout for another subject and pretended to read.  She got away again.  My wife and I were unanimous of not scolding her. In life, one has to live with cunning sometimes.  We knew she was a survivor and we cannot fault her for that.

Another two more years and the last one joined her. Again, the remaining two had more time on their hands as they had to stay in the office the whole afternoon.  What would children their age do when an elder is away? Play! They would hide underneath the sofa and play until they got tired and fell asleep. I never knew what their sleeping arrangement was for it was a small sofa that I had in my room.  They hinted at it a few weeks ago as we were on our way home after I picked them up coming from different locations. One was sleeping underneath. Presumably the youngest.

Now, the youngest is all brawn and a little  rough on the edges. He is the politician in the family.  While his siblings outgrew the need to hang out with friends, he was the one who went out of  the house to join the neighborhood rascals.  He is the sportsman who was good at any sport he got interested in.   He has more tricks and shenanigan ways than the rest of the three combined.  When he was about 5 years old and was in Sr. Prep school, a co-teacher approached me to complain that he scratched her car.  I apologized and offered to have the scratch fixed. She said it was alright as she understood boys.  What a relief that was.  I did not know where to get money to have that fixed.  Another time was when another teacher told me that she caught my son getting into a fight with a friend the day before.  He was caught holding a rock in his hand . She immediately asked the two to break it  and make up.  It would have been a real nightmare if he had caused injury at the time.  Well, in fairness to my youngest, he was like a precious stone which was very coarse and an uneven surface that had to be polished.  Well, I think we did.  Soon he will prove to be a diamond beginning to sparkle after it has been cleaned.  Still a little rough on some edges but hopefully would turn out to be  flawless in the end.

I carried  the four  of them for a total of eighteen years.  For all those years, I could hardly be on my own enjoying the company of friends after work.  How could I?  I had to take them home to the wife who, by the time we got there, had already prepared dinner and ready to help me carry each one of them into the house as they were fast asleep.  It was as if I was sentenced for life for a crime I did not commit.  I was young  and still full of hormones enough to last drinking sessions until the wee hours of the morning.  This was the reason why I reveled at the time when there were no classes and none of them was with me.

And then, one by one, they left.

As the front seat was vacated by the elder, the younger one took over until no one was left.  How time flies and it flew very fast.  All of them had graduated college and are now working.   The eldest is now the manager of two branches (with another one coming up sometime in August) of a hair salon originally from Canada, after a long stay with a car company as a Marketing Specialist.  The second one, while still engaged in his love for music, resigned from his present company, a well-known communications provider,  because he has decided to join his friends in putting up their own business.  He is just finishing the 30-day notice.  The third one is now a sales agent for another car company and is doing good with her sales.  The last one is working as well.  He is one helluva good looking dude as he goes to the office in a suit! He currently works for a company that recruits and hires executives for other companies whom he interviews.

Lastly, we have finished paying the mortgage for the house and the car we bought last year.  Now, we are looking to purchase another property maybe out there in Tagaytay or any nearby town for our retirement.  It mas still remain a dream but we have dreamt big before and we saw its fruition.  Why not dream another big one again?

Yes, time flies so fast I don't know where it went but I sure have all these  memories up in my head.  The good and the bad ones, the happy and the sad.  All I can say is that in all the times we have been together, I never had to talk (and I would not have) with their teachers to ask for favors and cut them some slack.  As a matter of fact, I managed to let them be, have them come to a school as if I didn't work there and have them experience the closest they could that normal children whose parents are off working somewhere else had.    I am proud that in spite of my shortcomings, I, together with my wife, am able to raise my kids the way we wanted to.  The test of time whether or not we were successful in raising them is not yet over.  We will have to see how they will be as parents themselves.  And yet, half of the battle has been won.  From the looks of it, we have done a fairly good job!

I am happy!

Look Ma, They're singing my song!

I have never missed my mom more than today when they performed the song  I wrote for this year's retirees.  These retirees have been working for our organization with an average of 25 years altogether.  One of them has served for 41 years even.  Talk about commitment.

Marites Panaligan, who did the music and with whom I have already written two songs earlier, just by sheer magic, once again read my mind and wrote the melody just like the way I wanted it written.  After we had composed the song, we talked about selecting who to sing the song and we were unanimous in choosing another music teacher, Ms. Marce Flores, who sings with passion and intense emotion, to sing the song.

Anyway, the reason I miss my mom is because the song is written in her genre.  Yes, she sang kundimans, a type of Filipino love song which is more like a serenade. My mother used to sing with my aunt in a radio show (that was way before the tv was invented) and would probably even sing songs my grandfather wrote (he was a judge, a violinist and a composer although I have yet to see a single song that survived.  My grandfather died when my grandmother was carrying my mother in her womb). 

Anyway, hoping that I could keep a copy of the performance, I am posting it here.  And here it goes:
my song

Painting and other things

Once again, school is about to start.  I  have been going to school regularly since last week for the new teachers pre-service training.  I even hosted one of the sessions with the new teachers.  It has been a tight schedule ever since.

I have started taking up Chinese painting with Mr. Ceasar Cheng who holds classes at the 4th floor every Saturdays at the Fully Booked in Taguig.  It is a wonderful experience and I am beginning to paint in a different style which is more spontaneous but clear and impressionistic way.

My thinking is that Chinese painting would liberate my inhibitions with paint, especially, with watercolor,  which to my observation of the masters like Alvaro Castagnet, is more impressionistic than anything else.  I have always been bound to fuzz on too much detail when doing watercolor and I don't like what I have been doing with the medium so far.  With Chinese painting, I become more loose with the medium and hopefully, would see things more in a painterly way.  Should I learn to do what I have set out to do, I would probably have the guts to join my former classmate, Buds Convocar, and his group the Philippine Plein Air Painters Association, who meets every last Sunday of the month for a painting session.

I have been painting in oil more frequently now.  While I am still developing my style, I think I am making progress towards that goal of perfecting my art.  I have now incorporated detailed hand(s) on my work and probably a face to suggest the importance of these two functions in our lives.  I still do not know where this will take me but I am going ahead with this plan.  I kind of like what I am seeing so far.  Given a few more months, I will master a technique and develop my own style.

I have also written my third song which I collaborated with Ms. Tess Panaligan who did the music and the arrangement of the song.  This song is for the retirees this year. In my mind, I would like to peek into the minds of those who are about to retire.  What would it be like when after a long period of time, suddenly, everything shall stop?  Will it be a sad event knowing that you will be stepping for the last time on the grounds of the institution you have learned to love? Will it be a sad moment knowing that you will be set apart from your friends? Your friends who have shared your glories in the past and those who have witnessed you at your most vulnerable moment?  Or will it be a joyous occasion knowing that it will be a cessation of a seemingly invisible bondage?

My idea of the song is that to an outsider, retirement would seem like an end.   Using the usual imagery of dusk and dawn to signify renewal and death, I opined that no matter what time of day, they share the same face.  It will be upon those that perceive the fading out or fading in of  the sun to make what they think of the spectacular view of either sunrise or sunset.  The song goes like this:

Paalam muna mga kaibigan

I

ang sabi mo'y takip silim

ang tingin ko'y bukang-liwayway

habang puso ko’y naninimdim

sumusukong pakaway-kaway

II

oo nga't ako’y palisan na

at kayo nama'y paroon pa

malayo pa ang dapit hapon

ng aking buhay na sinisinta

 III

di pa’ko titingin sa mga bituin

habol sa aninong likha ng dilim

nais kong inyong pakaisipin

meron pang talang pwede kong abutin

refrain

 masdan nyo’t iisa ang mukha

ng dapit hapon at  madaling araw

di ba’t pareho lang agaw dilim?

pahupa man o sisilay pa lamang

ang araw ay muling isisilang

tulad kong hihiwalay sa kadiliman

 IV

oo nga’t heto na’t dumating

at umiba na ng tutunguhin

sana nama’y di malimutan

halakhak, luha na aking iiwan

 V.

Paalam muna mga kaibigan

Maliit lang ang mundong ginagalawan

Pasasaan ba’t tayo’y magkikita

Kung hindi man dito  o ngayon

Maaaring bukas sa dako pa roon.

For those who do not speak Tagalog like my American friends, I did a very loose translation and it goes like this: 

So long for now my friend

I

You say sunset

I see sunrise

My heart is crestfallen

As I wave goodbye

II

Though I am leaving soon

And you’re still finding your way

Twilight is still a distance away

In my seemingly exhausted life

 III

I won’t be staring at the moon just yet,

Running after shadows created by its glow

All I ask from you is remember

There's a star I still have yet to reach

Refrain

Notice that dawn and dusk

Share the same face

They both exude partial darkness.

Whether the sun is setting

Or is just about to take a peek

The sun shall be born again

Just like me who shall rise  from the dark

 IV

I know the time has come

For me to change my course

I hope you won’t forget

Laughter and tears I shall leave behind

 V.

Farewell for now my friends

We live in such a small world

I know we shall meet again

If not here or now

Maybe tomorrow in a faraway land

Never been as pissed!

Last night, my son, Mickey, played violin in a concert... sort of.  There is this group of companies to which his organization, a telecommunication provider called SMART, owned by a guy named Manny V. Pangilinan and every year, they have this MVPO (O for Olympics) where each company sends in delegates for competition.  This yearly event is culminated in a concert where delegates from all the companies perform at the Meralco Theater. They have a beauty pageant, a spin off from American Idol and lastly, a British Got Talent type of show.  Anyway, Mickey was chosen by his company to perform in the last category.  He was quite happy because the company gave him some cash for his get up.  Since Kim is a fashion stylist, he asked her to dress him up and she did help her Kuya to prepare for the performance. 

Last night was the big night and there we were, seated at the aisles as we arrived late and the theater was filled to the brim, eagerly awaiting for his turn.  All the companies sent in a huge delegation.  The first one, PLDT, did the opening act of The Lion King, the second was a group who sang Lady Gaga's Born this Way but with a different twist, a mixture of arrangement from a Jazzy tune a la Manhattan Transfer and all the that... Everything was going fine and everyone was having a good time.  Until, I saw a lone figure with a violin. Okay, picture me and my wife, holding our breaths, excited.  I put my iPad on record and aimed it at him so that I wouldn't miss a note, especially those bends and slurs and vibratos I hear when I heard him practicing a day before.  He was introduced.. and I was thinking, here goes...He started to play... but after a few notes, the lapel mike attached to his violin started to malfunction.  He kept on playing.  I was waiting for anyone, the judges, the organizer, anyone, to stop the performance, fix the technical problem and have him play again.  After all, it was, albeit a friendly competition, still a competition, right? Nada!  They let him perform like that with the audio problems.  I was devastated!  Kim who was seated not far from us was shouting "AGAIN! AGAIN!" to no avail.  I wanted to go to the technical crew and shout at them, strangle the technical director but I restrained myself.  I had never been a stage father.  I let my children deal with their own problems to prepare them for life.  But I am really pissed off.  I know how it could be frustrating to practice hard and perform and for naught.  I never expected him to win considering the kind of judges ( a movie director/writer, an actress and a gay columnist) and the type of crowd who were just there to have a good time. His performance is not the type who will lord it over the typical sing and dance routine and magic, but I would have wanted him to have a fighting chance nonetheless even if it were only for bragging rights ( I have always been competitive, I guess).

During the interview portion, one of the judges jokingly said, "I think someone sabotaged your performance! But I liked what you did with the arrangement of that Rolling in the Deep song. While I hardly heard most of the song, I loved it." 

Oh well, here I go ranting again about one of my children's misfortune.  The good thing is Mickey's fine with it. He said he already won with that  garment package. hahaha. Well, if he's happy, I am.  Especially knowing that he did his best.  He told me he did not miss a single note and knowing my son and his gestures onstage, I know he didn't and I am proud of him no matter what.  Congratulations, my son!

The World Is Yours to Conquer

One of the greatest obligations parents have towards their children is giving them a good education.  My wife and I produced four and we are proud to say that half of our obligation to our children is now complete. To some people, it would seem like we have accomplished what we ought to do rearing four children.  However, I believe that graduation from college is not the end of our obligations.  The true test will have to wait until they become parents themselves and what they would become in the future.

Today marks a very important day in our lives as parents with our youngest having finished college.  Not only that.  On his own volition, he applied for a job at the Philippine Airlines and got accepted.  We don't exactly know what it is he is going to do at the company but he has his eyes on being a flight attendant eventually. Neither my wife nor I have interfered with our children's choices.  All we want is for them is to finish their studies, get a stable job and live life happily.

With all our children employed and working, we can rest assured that they will be okay come what may as they will be self-sufficient. While I know we will come to their beck and call at anytime they may need our help, we know that they will persevere.  We think we reared them to be independent as early as grammar school. WE never pampered them. We never even helped them with their assignments once they reached puberty. 

AS I have said to his older siblings, I say this again to our youngest, Coby.  The world is at your feet and life will be good to you if you treat it right.  Always strive to be happy.  This cannot be had with material riches (although it will make life easier) or extreme want for anything worldly.  Often, this too much wanting only turns to greed.  What you have to do is to live honestly and simply while aspiring only for the best.  Aim high and keep trying until you get what you want.  Be proud with your accomplishments sans the arrogance.  Make sure that every task you set out to do is accomplished well.  Always have a clear head and keep your feet planted on the ground.  

At any rate, we congratulate you for a job well done.  We love you very much. 

my latest creations

"The Struggle"  

Oil on canvas  

20" X 30"

I just completed this one last Sunday.  I have been trying to incorporate texture into my style by using impasto technique (thick layers of paint)  on some portions.  

Tess and I have done it again. We completed another song this time for a visiting Brother from Mexico.  The thing is while he hails from Mexico, he has also stayed in Japan for more than three years.  Hence, he speaks three languages, English, Spanish and Japanese.  My idea was to incorporate all these languages into one song.  English for the body, Spanish for the refrain and a counterpoint of Japanese towards the end.  I plan to also incorporate guitar works especially for the refrain so that it would have a hispanic air.  It came out okay. I hope he will like it when we finally perform it for him when he leaves in March.  We'll see...

A new year, a new beginning

A new beginning.  That has always been what I wanted every start of the year. However, all these years, it seems like nothing much have improved.  No that may be not true at all from the viewpoint of outsiders. If I am to look for changes, there has been a lot but they come unnoticed.  There's the renovation of the house, the new car (well, although not brand new, it is a far much better car than the ones I've been getting), the kids, except for the youngest, are working now.  Really, there are so much to thank for but still, I am not satisfied.  There is this hunger for more personal improvement I have to contend with.

Last year was by far one of the luckiest years for personal growth.  It was last year that I got to travel to the States, first in LA, then a few days after, San Francisco where I also experienced the first hassle at an airport. Next stop was in Ladner, BC in Canada and be reunited with Arlene's daughter, Trudy and her family and visit Arlene's grave before I went to my final destination, Kaslo to be reunited with my niece, Romella Moss.  It was also my first to travel by bus in Canada. A long drive across the Canadian Rockies, all ten hours or so of mountains and rivers from Vancouver to Nelson where I was picked up by Romella and her family, Laurie and Cez.  It was a wonderful trip, full of experiences and getting to know other people.

This was also the year that I managed to publish an anthology book of students' artworks.  It turned out good although the sale wasn't.  For some weird reason or another, I am amazed that not all parents are excited seeing their child's work in print.  What it tells me is that these parents do not appreciate the Arts and probably find it superficial, if not totally a waste of time.  They do not see the importance of the subject and would rather join the mainstream of pounding their children with a lot of Math, Science and English, subjects that most academicians themselves find more important.  Well, if I am to look at the list of prospective buyers, I have had at least 130 orders for the book except that majority of these orders failed to pay when I announced that payment could already be done at the accounting office.  (Brother Dennis wanted the project to pay for itself and decided that it will be pre-sold before going to ptint)  It may be due to the fact that they are just waiting for the actual book before paying.  I will have to show them the book on my return but only after I have distributed all copies that have been paid.  I am still short of about Php56,000.   It's a good thing that Broden bailed me out.

This was also the year that I saw and heard one of my works being sung.  Yes, my first song!  What happened was I was approached by Gladys who asked me to compose a song for Broden's birthday.  I talked to Tess and asked her what she had in mind.  Come vacation time, after several days of imagining the lyrics, the form and content of the composition, I finally sat down on Dec 29 and after a few hours came up with my first draft.  Several more hours of poring over the song, I decided to finalize it.   Yesterday, Dec 5, at around 10:20, I met with her and the chorale and heard the song being practiced.  Well, it came out okay.  Next project, a musicale with Tess.  A very big project and very ambitious but I can make this happen.

I think I have done at least 5 paintings this year.  Three of them are in Canada now.  The other will be on exhibit at the Lasallian Congress at DLSU.  It is to open next week, if I am not mistaken.  

Looking forward to what will happen in 2013. 

Tutelage 

Recent paintings in Canada

Homme et Femme 

Trudy Hurley - Ladner, Delta, BC

Mi Famille 

Trudy Hurley - Ladner, Delta BC

Remembering Kaslo

Lawrence and Romella G. Moss, Kaslo, BC

The Horrors of Traveling

I was on my way to Vancouver early in the morning of May 13.  My plane was due to leave at 8:30 am and due to my practice of being at the airport two hours before the flight, my host, Milton, husband of long time friend Ophel, had to wake up around 4 so that he could take me to the San Francisco airport.  Now that is a long drive from San Jose where we were.

It was a good thing that I was there at an early time as the queue to the check in counter, which was practically without any staff except for three people, was quite long already.  It turns out that the United Airlines, which I was riding, relies heavily on the electronic check in system and the guys working there are there only to assist passengers.  So, I waited a long time and when it was my turn (actually my first to do that) to check in, I had no problems inputting data.  However, scanning my passport was not an easy task.  It would not fit the scanner because the jacket was larger than the allowed page.  A middle aged African American woman who worked there came to help me and realized too that the passport won't fit.  She thought of getting the passport out of the jacket but in doing so, the entire booklet separated from the jacket! The whole thing tore apart from the cover.  Of course I was dismayed but since that was the first time it happened and it was not me who did it, I never thought of the repercussions of the same.  By this time, the woman was able to scan my passport and advised me to check in my luggage for which I have to pay $25.  I went to the only counter that was collecting the luggages  and showed her my passport.
Immediately, she noticed that the passport was torn and said, "Hey, you cannot travel with a damaged passport!"  Now the repercussion has set in.  It was then that I began to be concerned.  "What can I do?  It fell apart when the lady handled it."  And the woman, in fairness to her, acknowledged the mishap.  But the lady would have none of it and tried to declare something like it was due to the fact that the passport was weak.

"What can I do?" I asked again.  She thought for a bit and then told me to glue it and maybe that would work.  Where in heaven's name does one find a glue at an airport at a little way past 6 am? Frantically, I went to a coffee shop and asked if they happen to have glue.  None!  Who would have a need for glue at a coffee shop, anyway?  I walked and saw two Filipinas who I presume were working at the airport, talking with each other while going out of the toilet.  I approached them and asked if they have what I need.  None!

Then I noticed a young African American man, probably around 20 years old, working at a store which was already opened.  I asked him if he could help me and after explaining the situation to him, he promised to look for some glue after he has finished with his chore at the time.  So, I waited and while waiting tried to look at the items for sale.  And guess what I found.  A super glue!  My eyes widened as hope sprang from the heavens.  "Here, I found some glue! How much is it? I'll pay for it."  I took it from where it was displayed and showed it to him.  Then I pleaded if he could be the one to glue it as I am so much tensed I might ruin it.  He would have none of it perhaps thinking I will have to blame him if something went awry again.

I put some glue on the cover and tried to put them together but they won't attach.  "Hey, it says here super glue,m why wouldn't they join?" I asked the man.  "Well, maybe it's no good for paper," he answered.  Now I am beginning to panic.  Tried it several times more and it wouldn't stick.  Finally, I tried to put a larger quantity, put them together and held them for quite some time.  It worked.

I went back to the check in counter and showed her my passport and she checked in my luggage.  So far so good.  I lined up for the immigration officer, divested of all the contents of my pants and shoes and went through the x-ray machine.  "You still have your belts on!" cried the lady guard.  "Oh, I'm sorry ma'am," and took off my belt.

My passport was looked at by airport personnel three or four times and there was no problem.  I also got through the immigration in Vancouver in a breeze.  Now the tables are turning to my favor at last, I thought.

The following day, I went to the Philippine consulate to inquire about my passport.  Don Wallis, husband of Trudy, took me to West  Pender St. where the consulate is located.  There I was told that I will have to have my passport replaced but I have to wait several days.  Or, they could give me some sort of document for passage but it will only be if I will leave from Vancouver to the Philippines.  I still have a lot of things to do in Kaslo and besides, I already have a ticket flying back to the Philippines through LA.  "Couldn't the consul just give me a document verifying that this passport is authentic?" I asked.  "It will also be a matter of days before that can be done," he said.

So, here I am now in Kaslo, after a long journey to Nelson via a Greyhound bus, not knowing what would happen to me when I enter Spokane, Washington to fly back to LA on the 23rd.  Hmmm, if they don't want to accept me, let them deport me instead.  What can I do?  It was an accident!

Blogging Friends, True Friends

 My best online buddies, Jay and Jet!

 A piece of American Art

 The handsome guy who picked me up from home, Tito Rhomes!

Elegant dinner at Las Brisas fronting Laguna Beach where one could see the sunset while enjoying a good repast

Three awesome guys who know how to make one feel welcome and loved.

LA in pictures 1

 Chapman University where my niece, Khriss, teaches Math. 

 John and poet Gloria Laven who I met the first time after thirteen years of correspondence.

 Danny Dionisio, our neighbor, with whom I played tennis in the Philippines when the family still lived there.

 

The youngest in the Reyes family is now in college!  Time flies so quickly and it's gaining on me. 

 Definitely not Rafael Nadal or Roger Federer.  Only better!

 Host Annabelle and new acquaintances, husband and wife, Louie and Rina

 Camille Reyes, the last time I saw her, she was just a Freshman student

 Golden Voice Rikki and the ever hungry Papa Buoy

Papa Buoy Gammad. Up to this date, I wouldn't know why he'd spell his name that way.

Khriss helping me unpack on arrival at Cedar Avenue, which was to be home for the next 6 days

The City of Angels

Today is the third day of my stay here in LA and I continue to enjoy the good weather and the company of good people. I arrived here on May 2 and was surprised to know that my friend, Suzette, was to be on the same flight with me to my first stop, which was Narita Airport in Japan. That made the long queue at the airport a little manageable because we got to talk with each other once our points met at the long line that snaked its way to the Delta Airlines counter. What pisses me off at the airport, aside from the very long queue at the check in counter and the freaking travel tax (imagine having to line-up just so you can pay the government, sheesh) counter, was the fact that you have to divest of everything, belt, shoes and all, at the xray machine. And I had to do that twice, once before meeting the immigration officer, and then, before I could get inside the gate! And to think, I will be in another long queue in Japan and do all these once again! Anyway, upon arrival at the LAX airport, I had to wait in line again, this time for another hour, just so my papers could be cleared. Then, once I have gotten my luggages, had to wait for Bong, a close family friend, who was kind enough to pick me up from the airport as the designated picker upper, Khriss, was working till 1. After 30 minutes of waiting at the airport, Bong finally arrives, took me to their house to freshen up and wait for Khriss and from there, had lunch at a place called Hometown Buffet at Orange County. From there, Khriss took me to my final destination at the San Pablo residence where I am to stay while here in LA. We had a lovely dinner at a Japanese restaurant called Kabuki! We were joined there by Bert Ancheta and his wife. The following day, I went to Chapman University with Khriss to observe the university and observe her classes. Khriss was phenomenal in class and the students were listening intently to her lecture. From there, my online friends of thirteen years, fellow poet, Gloria and her husband John, picked me up to show me around. We had a blast upon finally meeting personally. They took me to Hollywood, had lunch at the Hardrock Cafe, viewed the "stars" and their Sid's pavement signatures and got ripped off by Yoda and Superman (I think he was Superman) asking for a photo and being hassled for a $5 tip! From there, we went to Beverly Hills and then a view of the ocean via Sunset Boulevard, then posh Rodeo Drive where the stores supposedly snobbed Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. There I saw items I cannot and will not buy! We then had coffee at the Coffee Bean then were on our way again to our final destination, the Westin Bonaventure Hotel where we had dinner with a view of the whole LA area on the 35th floor which was a revolving restaurant. Too bad we couldn't go full circle as it would take about an hour and a half to do that and it was already 11:30! They took me home and after bidding everyone adieu, I hit the sack! The whole experience was fantastic. Gloria, as I expected, was charming and intently listening to how John and I talk about a lot of things. We share the same passion for music, the arts and practically everything and poor Gloria just had to listen to us talk. She wasn't complaining, though. As a matter of fact, I suspect she enjoyed seeing us discuss a lot of things. What was crappy was that just as soon as I was to take my first picture, the gate of Paramount Pictures, the battery of my camera died on me! All in all, it was a great day and I continue to expect even greater ones still to come. Today, Danny and Ochie will pick me up, then tomorrow, Rikki and the La Salle teachers and finally, on Sunday, Batjay, Jet, Tito Rhomes and Kristene! What a wonderful week this will be!

Nothing but travel

Summer is all about vacation and travel and that is what I have been doing all these weeks. My wife, Kim and I spent the Holy Week to far North in Bangui, Ilocos Norte, home of the famous windmills, the first in Philippine soil. This is where my mother-in-law's family is from and it has always been a delight going there. If only I did not have to suffer a ten hour trip, I would have been there all the time. I love the pristine beauty, the quietness, laid-back life of just bumming around doing nothing. To make things a lot interesting and exciting, our all time friends, Ollie and wife, Kathy, and Edgar and Vivian's family were all there. We stayed in a new relative-owned resort called Villa Ambrocia at Manayon. Unfortunately, Pagudpud was crazy and the Blue Lagoon was filled to the brim on Good Friday. The following week was the school sponsored Boracay trip with the whole faculty and staff. It was a three-day, two-night escapade with young, the old and new vibrant friends, and being with the young generation always pumps my blood up to soaring heights. It was a fun-filled night of dancing the night away and island hopping swimming over and underneath the famous island's azure waters. Needless to say I was twenty years old again. Yesterday was my wife's birthday and we celebrated it quietly in our home with her cooking the ever present pancit and turbo chicken knowing that the following day will be busy packing up for our trip in our favorite haven here in Tagaytay where I am writing today. Hopefully, the last leg of my summer vacation will be in the US and Canada but that needs another writing soon.

Knowing one's roots

This blog was triggered by my recent visit to an online friend's blog, Blogusvox who wrote about his grandfather.

Alex Haley, the author of Roots, said, In all of us there is a hunger, marrow deep, to know our Heritage... Without this enriching knowledge, there is
a hollow yearning no matter what our attainments in life.

I have always wanted to write a book about my life with the intention of passing this on to my children and, if God be willing, probably their children and so on. Call it my attempt at immortality or just plain vanity. The thought that my grandchildren and their children would know how I lived, my shortcomings and all, excites me no end.

Anyway, my main idea is to start with a family tree of both mine and my wife's. This is the first stumbling block on my part. I, being the youngest of a brood of five, with a very huge gap of thirteen years between me and the sister before me, am not very familiar about my heritage. I have only gotten to know my grandmother, Maria, from my mother's side. All the others have died way past before I was born. I don't even know the names of my grandfathers. In short, our elders who can be the source of information are practically gone. I wonder if I can ask Ambeth Ocampo how this can be done. Maybe I will write him a query. hmmmm

Anyway, based on what I have, I know this can be interesting to my children. Here's an excerpt of how the book shall be written. This will start the second chapter which is about my mother. And it goes like this:

Aling Minyang

I would like to start my mother’s story from my grandmother, Maria Alquiroz, as told to me by my elders. Maria was a very beautiful barrio lass in Angat, Bulacan. It would not be surprising that she had a good number of admirers. As a teen-ager who expresses herself in a song, my grandmother was a fine songstress. When she was 18 years of age, probably around the early 1900’s, her mother ordered her to sing for the wedding of a man everybody knew as “Juez”, a 50-year-old judge. As true to the times, young ones, especially women, never argued with their folks and just did as they were told to do. Just the same, my grandmother wondered why she was being asked to wear a very nice white “terno” when all she had to do was sing during the wedding. Her mother just brushed her question aside and told her that was what the “juez” wanted. My grandmother obeyed and went to the church with her mother. It was only at the church that she found out that it was to be her wedding. She was the bride!

My grandfather was an interesting character. Somehow, his name has been forgotten even by my elders. But his story will live on forever. As I have already mentioned, he was a judge, probably in what we now call as the Court of First Instance. He was also known as a man who could play the violin well. He was a musician and a composer although I have yet to see or hear one of his compositions. Unfortunately, he died while my grandmother was one month heavy with child who was to be my mother. The story is that my grandfather was one day playing the violin with so much gusto until finally he announced to those listening to him play that he was to die that afternoon at around 3:00 pm. True enough, he did!

Not All That Glitters Is Gold

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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.