Once again, another year shall have passed and my words still have to "fork lightning" so I guess I will have to "rage, rage against the dying of the light!" Time is of the essence now as I am nearing the fourth quarter of my life. It is the end game and it is time to bet all my marbles.
My problem is I have too many interests! From where I stand now, it looks like one interest stands in the way of making the other stand out and make me really good at it. So, based on that, while practically all of my interests had made men famous, none of these will make me one. Sure, I thought of being rich or famous one day but I shall play the cards I have been dealt with. There is nothing wrong with a life that is simple and uncomplicated when the return is happiness.
Happy New Year to all.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
paintings for canada
My watercolors ---
These paintings are bound for Toronto
Property of Mr. and Mrs. Espiritu
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Wala lang magawa
Pasyong Mahal Ni San Jose
Pait, katam at martilyo,
ibubulong ko sa inyo
ang masaklap kong sikreto:
hindi ko pa inaano
ay buntis na ang nobya ko.
Ang sabi ng anghel, wala
akong dapat ikahiya,
walang dahilang lumuha;
dapat pa nga raw matuwa
pagkat Diyos ang gumahasa.
Martilyo, katam at pait,
makukuha bang magalit
ng karpintero? Magtiis.
Ang mahina at maliit,
wala raw laban sa langit.
--Jose F. Lacaba
The poem starts as an address poem as it murmurs to the pait, katam at martilyo which represent an artist’s tools used to mould life into his works. Works that had been continuously been misused, dictated upon and bereft of their true value as they have been serving the pleasures of a despot.
The poem is obviously a protest against the dictatorship of the Marcos tandem, the gods in Philippine soil during the 70’s. Using St. Joseph and his ordeal upon hearing the news that his fiancée was pregnant albeit the absence of carnal knowledge as a metaphor, the poet illustrates the carnage wrought by the Marcos government of the country’s economy and most of all, the pillage of Philippine culture as has been managed and manipulated by the self-professed patroness of the Arts, Imelda.
The third stanza talks about the crony or puppet, who, with his gift of gab, appeases the artist and not complain and on the contrary, be thankful because the gods has bestowed their blessings to his art.
The fourth stanza is inevitable. The lowly artist cannot do anything but to suffer for after all, beggars cannot choose but succumb to the will of the mighty.
While the poem was directed towards the seventies, it is interesting to note that this can still happen in a country where people who has arrogated to themselves the power of the gods, rule the affairs of government. A few years back, the National Press Club received flak for its censorship of a painting they themselves commissioned to celebrate press freedom in the country. They commissioned neo-Angono artists to make a mural but later on asked someone else to make alterations on the mural prior to its inauguration as they found several objectionable details which they thought were critical of PGMA and her policies in government.
Unfortunately, Lacaba’s poem will always be relevant as long as we have people whose myopic views only allow pictures that will not leave a sour taste in their sour-infested mouths. The poem will always be relevant in a land governed by people who govern by might and not by mind for always, the arts will be there to question, open the eyes of those who remain sleeping in the dark.
Pait, katam at martilyo,
ibubulong ko sa inyo
ang masaklap kong sikreto:
hindi ko pa inaano
ay buntis na ang nobya ko.
Ang sabi ng anghel, wala
akong dapat ikahiya,
walang dahilang lumuha;
dapat pa nga raw matuwa
pagkat Diyos ang gumahasa.
Martilyo, katam at pait,
makukuha bang magalit
ng karpintero? Magtiis.
Ang mahina at maliit,
wala raw laban sa langit.
While the poem was directed towards the seventies, it is interesting to note that this can still happen in a country where people who has arrogated to themselves the power of the gods, rule the affairs of government. A few years back, the National Press Club received flak for its censorship of a painting they themselves commissioned to celebrate press freedom in the country. They commissioned neo-Angono artists to make a mural but later on asked someone else to make alterations on the mural prior to its inauguration as they found several objectionable details which they thought were critical of PGMA and her policies in government.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
If man's justice fails, God will surely take over.
I condemn to the highest degree the massacre that happened in Maguindanao yesterday. It is an act of barbarism and utter cowardice that armed men, reportedly numbering to a hundred, would viciously attack unarmed people, rape the women and behead their helpless victims. These people are a disgrace to the Filipino, who albeit living in dire straits, has, since time immemorial, proved his tenacity to uphold his dignity through honest perseverance and hard work. Too bad, that living with him are goons of politicians who seem to live during the stone age when a woman can be had by pounding her head with a staff. There is no honor in getting what you want through sheer force. On the contrary, there is too much honor in even a lost battle but fought hard through intelligence, patience and perseverance.
What these barbarians did was an act of treachery to the Filipino and to the entire nation. They do not deserve to live in a civilized world where open minds and liberal ideas should prosper. May the wrath of the Lord bestow upon them and their tribes.
What these barbarians did was an act of treachery to the Filipino and to the entire nation. They do not deserve to live in a civilized world where open minds and liberal ideas should prosper. May the wrath of the Lord bestow upon them and their tribes.
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Erap(tion)
I will never understand how a lawyer works. It seems like no matter what the law says, lawyers will always find a way to get around it. This boils down to the best lawyer being the one to find the solution to the hardest problem at hand. The one who could be sleazy enough to take you out of the tightest situation. And we're only talking about fair being fair. No bribes or relatives or fraternity brothers working on the sides.
This thought has been sparked by the insistence of Erap to run for the highest position in the land once more. If an ordinary man was to read the law, it is plain and simple. He cannot run again for that office. However, his lawyers argue that the provision in the constitution does not apply to him as he was not able to finish his term, blah blah blah. Ironically, I believe that is the ultimate reason why he can't. If I remember my history correctly, the provision was made to prevent a bad president from staying in office and do more damage. This was done to prevent another Marcos from re-assuming office and using the powers of the same to remain for a very long time, which Marcos actually did using his constitutional mumbo jumbo.
I know as much that when the law is ambiguous and there is uncertainty as to its interpretation, we look back at the framers of said constitution and try to find the spirit behind the law. To me, the spirit behind the prohibition is for elected presidents not to run for office again, whether they did well or not, lest we are stuck with a very bad president. It never said anything about whether or not such term was completed. It says "elected". We only have to remember that the present constitution was made right after the ouster of strongman Marcos and that it was done in fear of history repeating itself. How could that be hard to understand?
Was Erap a bad president? Erap was ousted from office because the people believed he was not a good one. As a matter of fact, the court has decided, with finality, that he used public funds to enrich himself. He was incarcerated for plunder and was only given, for whatever reason it serves the present President, pardon. How can he run for office and aspire to be re-elected? He said to let the public be the judge thinking that the masa that supported him before will do so again. He must have a short memory but I remember it was the public who went out of the streets to oust him.
Strange huh?
This thought has been sparked by the insistence of Erap to run for the highest position in the land once more. If an ordinary man was to read the law, it is plain and simple. He cannot run again for that office. However, his lawyers argue that the provision in the constitution does not apply to him as he was not able to finish his term, blah blah blah. Ironically, I believe that is the ultimate reason why he can't. If I remember my history correctly, the provision was made to prevent a bad president from staying in office and do more damage. This was done to prevent another Marcos from re-assuming office and using the powers of the same to remain for a very long time, which Marcos actually did using his constitutional mumbo jumbo.
I know as much that when the law is ambiguous and there is uncertainty as to its interpretation, we look back at the framers of said constitution and try to find the spirit behind the law. To me, the spirit behind the prohibition is for elected presidents not to run for office again, whether they did well or not, lest we are stuck with a very bad president. It never said anything about whether or not such term was completed. It says "elected". We only have to remember that the present constitution was made right after the ouster of strongman Marcos and that it was done in fear of history repeating itself. How could that be hard to understand?
Was Erap a bad president? Erap was ousted from office because the people believed he was not a good one. As a matter of fact, the court has decided, with finality, that he used public funds to enrich himself. He was incarcerated for plunder and was only given, for whatever reason it serves the present President, pardon. How can he run for office and aspire to be re-elected? He said to let the public be the judge thinking that the masa that supported him before will do so again. He must have a short memory but I remember it was the public who went out of the streets to oust him.
Strange huh?
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
coming home soon!
The good news is that we are all finally coming home this weekend. My wife reported to me that the water have subsided in our area and is now passable. I can bring my car to and from school, yey!!!
As I am wont to do, I do not complain but try to find something good in everything that happens to me. What is it that I can find good in having to stay in another place for weekdays and get to see my family only during weekends?
How about staying in a mansion by your lonesome? I have a room which is almost as big as the entire second floor of my house. And since my school is just walking distance away, I do not have to contend with the terrible raffic at SLEX, plus the savings on gasoline and toll fees which when added up could be about almost three thousand a week. That's huge savings, isn't it?
With regard to my children, we have never bonded as much as the weekends we stayed in Antipolo. Why? Simple. There is no internet connection available. While we can use a wireless connection, we still have to go to the office and do computer work (play, in the case of my kids) which is kind of a trouble as we will have to ask the master of the house to open the offices and turn on the wireless network. While we can ask to work there during office hours, we don't as we will only get in the way, of course. There is no cable tv available in the area as well. While we do have dvd's, for some reason or another, we didn't watch anything at all. So with that set up, what else is there to do but play with the children. I play texas hold'em poker with my boys, my brother-in-law who is our host and his two boys. The girls are doing something else with their mom or their tita, but they are just nearby. Surprisingly, we end up at the wee hours of the morning just playing poker! Lately, my brother-in-law, as generous a host as he can be, had his darts, which he had for a long time but never set it up, put up on the patio and there, we play darts even with the girls. What fun was there to be had.
Lastly, I have learned that I have a lot of friends who are all willing to help me when I need it. What joy is there to know that there are people who are willing to sacrifice just so you do not suffer. While we were really not what we can consider as hapless victims considering the plight of others who really lost a lot, help came pouring in just the same even as far as Canada. Trudy, daughter of my good friend, Arlene who passed away on December 22, 2006 was frantic when she learned from the news about what was happening in Manila. Without hesitation, she wired money to us knowing that we were going to have to do some repairs to the house and whatever we would need to surpass this recent tragedy that befell the country. Consider it as a gift from mom, she said. That brought tears to our eyes as Arlene was a very generous friend and for her daughter to continue such act of kindness is overwhelming. Her brother, Stephe, too, asked what kind of assistance we would need. I assured him that we are okay.
Of course, the Brother President of my school has offered cash incentives to those who were affected by Ondoy. Allowing me access to the house of the Brothers is more than enough help I can get.
There are also those who would sacrifice some discomfort just to make my life easier. There is this teacher who volunteered to have her maid do my laundry. She adamantly asked for my clothes and so I ended up giving her my uniform. This is a lot of help as I will have to carry a lot of things in my bag to join my family on weekends. There's another teacher with whom I ride till Ugong where I can get a cab on my way to Antipolo. Big things and little things mean a lot when you are in distress. And these I got from this experience. We are truly blessed!
As I am wont to do, I do not complain but try to find something good in everything that happens to me. What is it that I can find good in having to stay in another place for weekdays and get to see my family only during weekends?
How about staying in a mansion by your lonesome? I have a room which is almost as big as the entire second floor of my house. And since my school is just walking distance away, I do not have to contend with the terrible raffic at SLEX, plus the savings on gasoline and toll fees which when added up could be about almost three thousand a week. That's huge savings, isn't it?
With regard to my children, we have never bonded as much as the weekends we stayed in Antipolo. Why? Simple. There is no internet connection available. While we can use a wireless connection, we still have to go to the office and do computer work (play, in the case of my kids) which is kind of a trouble as we will have to ask the master of the house to open the offices and turn on the wireless network. While we can ask to work there during office hours, we don't as we will only get in the way, of course. There is no cable tv available in the area as well. While we do have dvd's, for some reason or another, we didn't watch anything at all. So with that set up, what else is there to do but play with the children. I play texas hold'em poker with my boys, my brother-in-law who is our host and his two boys. The girls are doing something else with their mom or their tita, but they are just nearby. Surprisingly, we end up at the wee hours of the morning just playing poker! Lately, my brother-in-law, as generous a host as he can be, had his darts, which he had for a long time but never set it up, put up on the patio and there, we play darts even with the girls. What fun was there to be had.
Lastly, I have learned that I have a lot of friends who are all willing to help me when I need it. What joy is there to know that there are people who are willing to sacrifice just so you do not suffer. While we were really not what we can consider as hapless victims considering the plight of others who really lost a lot, help came pouring in just the same even as far as Canada. Trudy, daughter of my good friend, Arlene who passed away on December 22, 2006 was frantic when she learned from the news about what was happening in Manila. Without hesitation, she wired money to us knowing that we were going to have to do some repairs to the house and whatever we would need to surpass this recent tragedy that befell the country. Consider it as a gift from mom, she said. That brought tears to our eyes as Arlene was a very generous friend and for her daughter to continue such act of kindness is overwhelming. Her brother, Stephe, too, asked what kind of assistance we would need. I assured him that we are okay.
Of course, the Brother President of my school has offered cash incentives to those who were affected by Ondoy. Allowing me access to the house of the Brothers is more than enough help I can get.
There are also those who would sacrifice some discomfort just to make my life easier. There is this teacher who volunteered to have her maid do my laundry. She adamantly asked for my clothes and so I ended up giving her my uniform. This is a lot of help as I will have to carry a lot of things in my bag to join my family on weekends. There's another teacher with whom I ride till Ugong where I can get a cab on my way to Antipolo. Big things and little things mean a lot when you are in distress. And these I got from this experience. We are truly blessed!
Monday, October 12, 2009
Updates
If you have been following the news, you would know that Pasig is still with water up to now. This does not come as a surprise as I have known that serious flooding like this happens to our place every 8 or 9 years as claimed by those who are native to the place. Well, I recall having gone home on a banca one late night in 1988. We were living in the place for just a couple of months and I had to stay late in what was once Rizal Theater as we were staging South Pacific at the time. I came home drenched from the rain and to my surprise could not find the usual tricycles plying the streets. Then I was told that the water level at the municipal hall where I should pass through going home was waist high. I did not know what to do as I was tired and all I had in mind was go home. I walked several blocks and found a banca with a load of about six or seven people in it. I asked the boatman if he can deliver me to my place and he said, yes.
The flooding happened again after several years. I failed to count how many as one does not record these experiences in full detail. Suffice to say that we managed to block the experience hoping we have seen the last of it. Anyway, during the second time, all my children were of school age and ride with me to and from school. As it would be very hard for us to ride the "boat" everyday, my wife and I decided to find a place where the children can go in the meantime. My eldest was forced to live in her best friend's house, my two boys in another nearby subdivision while I and my third child had to live with a family friend. This lasted for about a month, as usual.
So, on that Saturday while Ondoy was giving a lashing out its fury of torrential rain and my maid who had to buy something at the store reported that the water was already knee high just a few blocks away, I knew it would be flooding season again. What I was not expecting was for the water to reach the house. When I saw that the relentless rain won't be stopping anytime soon, I already had the good sense to move the car to higher grounds. When the water was about three inches at the gate, I decided it was time to move the furniture to a higher level. My efforts had not been in vain for the water did come to my house. The house was soaked to about eight inches of water. Any higher and it would have ruined our sofa. My siblings who are now occupying the house my parents built in Marikina did not fair as well. The water inside the house was about two feet deep and a lot higher at the road.
On Wednesday, after cooking food while our feet were soaked in murky water and delivering the food upstairs, we decided to move out. The water was beginning to smell and I had occasion to see a dead rat, bloated and floating on the water. We moved to a shoe factory in Antipolo owned by my sister in law's husband. The water level there was much higher but at least we are at the fourth floor where the house is. We stayed there until Sunday while thinking of where to stay in the next weeks while classes shall have been opened.
My daughters now live with a family friend's daughter's condo unit in Makati, the youngest lives in his friend's house while Mickey stays with another family friend. I had been given permission to live in a house recently acquired by the school. I live here by my lonesome. We reunited last weekend in Antipolo and returned to our temporary stations. This will have to be our arrangement until the water in our place have subsided.
The flooding happened again after several years. I failed to count how many as one does not record these experiences in full detail. Suffice to say that we managed to block the experience hoping we have seen the last of it. Anyway, during the second time, all my children were of school age and ride with me to and from school. As it would be very hard for us to ride the "boat" everyday, my wife and I decided to find a place where the children can go in the meantime. My eldest was forced to live in her best friend's house, my two boys in another nearby subdivision while I and my third child had to live with a family friend. This lasted for about a month, as usual.
So, on that Saturday while Ondoy was giving a lashing out its fury of torrential rain and my maid who had to buy something at the store reported that the water was already knee high just a few blocks away, I knew it would be flooding season again. What I was not expecting was for the water to reach the house. When I saw that the relentless rain won't be stopping anytime soon, I already had the good sense to move the car to higher grounds. When the water was about three inches at the gate, I decided it was time to move the furniture to a higher level. My efforts had not been in vain for the water did come to my house. The house was soaked to about eight inches of water. Any higher and it would have ruined our sofa. My siblings who are now occupying the house my parents built in Marikina did not fair as well. The water inside the house was about two feet deep and a lot higher at the road.
On Wednesday, after cooking food while our feet were soaked in murky water and delivering the food upstairs, we decided to move out. The water was beginning to smell and I had occasion to see a dead rat, bloated and floating on the water. We moved to a shoe factory in Antipolo owned by my sister in law's husband. The water level there was much higher but at least we are at the fourth floor where the house is. We stayed there until Sunday while thinking of where to stay in the next weeks while classes shall have been opened.
My daughters now live with a family friend's daughter's condo unit in Makati, the youngest lives in his friend's house while Mickey stays with another family friend. I had been given permission to live in a house recently acquired by the school. I live here by my lonesome. We reunited last weekend in Antipolo and returned to our temporary stations. This will have to be our arrangement until the water in our place have subsided.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Don’t tell me we’re doomed!
Monday, September 28, 2009
A home without the comforts of a house: Typhoon Ondoy
(I wrote this on my laptop while Typhoon Ondoy was still pouring in more rain)
When we moved to this house in 1988, there was a big flood. It stayed for a month and we had to ride a banca to and from the house. It was too late for us to back out as we have already started paying the mortgage and there’s nowhere else to go.
They told us flooding happens in this part of the city every 8 years or so. I would not be surprised for after all, the river’s delta is just a stone’s throw away although one cannot realize this to be so for the river’s view is blocked by houses and other commercial edifices. But that was okay. Our house is spared from inundation. In my years of experience living here, our place was like a tiny island surrounded by brown, murky, filthy water that was knee-high. The municipal hall which was about two hundred meters away would have floods that reached the neckline. We have had this flood two more times ever since. We had to ask friends from the south to take the kids in for just a while until the flooded streets subsided. Kraiganne who was then in sophomore high, had to stay with her best friend in Ayala Alabang. The boys had to stay with Mickey’s best friend while Kim and I slept with our family friend’s family. Nitz had to stay behind to take care of the house and her aging mother. It was a lot of hassle to us and to the families we had to disturb.
But the hassles then were nothing compared to what we are experiencing now. The flood has reached our premises and beyond. I had to transfer the car to what I thought would have been safer grounds. This is the first time that we had to raise up the furniture, disconnect the electronics and put them to a safer place at the second floor lest they get soaked in water and break. The toughest was the refrigerator.
What’s worse is that Nitz and the two boys decided to go to school. “Classes are not suspended,” they argued. So, they’re now stuck in Taft while we had to find ways to raise everything, cook food and bring it up so that we can eat. But we always have to think positive and look at the brighter side. The good thing is that we now have a toilet and bath upstairs. I can just imagine the horrors if we still had the old house where we only had one bathroom downstairs. Taking a bath would have been very uncomfortable. Using the toilet would have been horrendous.
It's Sunday. The rains have stopped and I was hoping the water level would have gone down but to no avail. For some reason or another, it has not abated an inch. Hopefully, this is not that kind of flood that stays for months! The phone is now busted and I have no idea exactly where Nitz and the boys are. Not really. Coby decided to take his chances going home and got stuck inside his friend’s car. The last time I heard from him is that he is in a condo unit of a friend. Mickey, likewise, is stuck in traffic I don’t have a freakin’ idea where. Nitz is still somewhere in school. Her office got inundated too and had to transfer. I don’t think they are coming home anytime soon. The water level outside the subdivision is still waist high. (note: They manage to come home around noon)
Before my laptop’s batteries go dead on me, let me blurt out my sentiments on someone out there who will not even get a glimpse of what I have written. Nonetheless, my ramblings might give me some relief. I have no one to blame but the incompetence of education officials to at least have a modicum of intelligence not to trust the weather bureau and its outdated machines and announce a no class day based on what they are seeing outside the comforts of their homes. I blame the city engineers for not having an iota of an idea how to prevent flooding or at least make it go away as soon as possible. Most importantly, I blame the government officials for their greed plaguing this forsaken land with corruption so that they can live in luxury and wanton pleasure regardless of the plight of the citizens who they pledged to serve who are living in misery.
What’s worse is that Nitz and the two boys decided to go to school. “Classes are not suspended,” they argued. So, they’re now stuck in Taft while we had to find ways to raise everything, cook food and bring it up so that we can eat. But we always have to think positive and look at the brighter side. The good thing is that we now have a toilet and bath upstairs. I can just imagine the horrors if we still had the old house where we only had one bathroom downstairs. Taking a bath would have been very uncomfortable. Using the toilet would have been horrendous.
Before my laptop’s batteries go dead on me, let me blurt out my sentiments on someone out there who will not even get a glimpse of what I have written. Nonetheless, my ramblings might give me some relief. I have no one to blame but the incompetence of education officials to at least have a modicum of intelligence not to trust the weather bureau and its outdated machines and announce a no class day based on what they are seeing outside the comforts of their homes. I blame the city engineers for not having an iota of an idea how to prevent flooding or at least make it go away as soon as possible. Most importantly, I blame the government officials for their greed plaguing this forsaken land with corruption so that they can live in luxury and wanton pleasure regardless of the plight of the citizens who they pledged to serve who are living in misery.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Noynoy for president?
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
Ample
This is my latest creation which is to be owned by a friend of some twenty eight years or so. He will be celebrating his birthday tomorrow. He is also about to bless his own four-storey building which shall be his new home and printing press combined. He has gone a long way out of honest, hard work and perseverance. I join him and his family in celebrating a life of more abundance, good health and peace.
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Linggo ng Wika
I had been asked by the Filipino coordinator to join his little poetry contest in celebration of the Linggo ng Wika and I obliged. Here's the original poem I wrote in Tagalog and my english version. Hope you like them.
Pano bang mamuhay ng malaya?
Tunay ka bang malaya
pagkat ika’y wala sa hawla?
Hindi naninilbihan sa hindi kadugong
iba ang kulay ng balat at anyo?
Malaya ka ba dahil nasisilayan mo ang araw,
napagmamasdan ang buwan
at nararamdaman ang init ng haplos
ng hanging amihan sa gitna ng kadiliman?
Baka naman ika’y parang sampung daliri
na oo nga’t malayang kumilos nang walang paglilimi
pagmasdan mo’t ang kilos naman nito’y
kumporme pa rin sa natural na daloy
pagkat ito’y nakadikit sa iyong palad
kahit gaano pa man ito kalapad.
Oo nga’t maaari kang pumunta kahit saan
ngunit paano itong gagawin kung bulsa mo’y
butas hanggang sa kailailaliman?
Maituturing bang malaya ang isang kaluluwang
ipinapanganak pa lamang ay baon na sa utang?
Utang na ginastos ng walang kapararakan
ng hindi naman dayuhan bagkus ay isang kalahi
na buong hayok na niyurakan yaring kalooban.
Siya na halos isuka ang pagkasarap-sarap na pagkaing
nakahain sa mamahaling pinggan
sapagkat siya’y bundat na sa kabusugan
habang ikaw nama’y kumukulo
ang maasim na sikmurang
parating walang laman.
Ilang beses na bang pinakawalan
itong ibong pipit mula sa kanyang piitan?
Di ba nga’t tuwing may pagtitipong ganyak
Itong mga tibak na hamak
mikoropono’t gitara ‘y pihadong tangan
paliliparin ito at pagbuka ng pakpak ay hahayaan
Subalit , kaibigan, ito’y sa awit lamang
kaya’t kawawang ibo’y umiiyak pa rin sa parang.
Ano ang ganda ng bulaklak na busilak
kung ang pang-amoy mo nama’y manhid
pagkat binara ang ilong mong makitid
ng sangsang ng amoy na basurang hatid?
Aanhin mo ang ganda ng sikat ng umaga
kung bulag ka naman sa sinapit ng inang bayan?
Ano ang silbi ng tamis ng tunog na dulot ng lira
kung bingi ka naman sa panaghoy ng batang ulila?
Malaya ka nga ba kaibigan
pagkat sa hawla ika’y hindi naninirahan?
Pakaisipin mong mabuti
ang ibong pipit na nakapiit ay pihadong kakain
anumang sandali, minsan nga’y pinipilit
samantalang ika’y wala man lang kahit ano
umaasa lamang kung anong sasapit
na tila baga isang aso
nakatali at nag aalumpihit.
What Does It Mean to Live a Free Man?
Can you consider yourself free
because you do not live in a cage;
do not serve foreign masters
who look different than you?
Can you say you’re truly free
just because you can see the sun,
gaze at the moon and feel the gentle breeze
touch your face in the dead of night?
Maybe you are just like your ten fingers
that can move at will
but whose movements are dictated
by the confines of your hand.
Yes, you can go anywhere you please
but cannot do so with barely a dime.
Can one consider free a soul
born heir to debt amounting to trillions?
A debt ill-spent not by a foreign
conqueror but someone of the same race,
who with voracious greed ravaged your being.
He who almost puked the delicious delicacies
served on ornate platters with silver spoons
because he is fully satiated and cannot have more
while your empty stomach grinds
and growls from hunger.
How often have we set the sparrow free?
We have sung in the streets many times
“put a bird inside a cage and it will cry endlessly”
and so we let it go and set it to flight
but that was only in a song
and the poor bird still cries.
Can you claim freedom when all you feel
is the filth of moral degradation?
What is the beauty of a rose
if your sense of smell has been numbed
by the stench of trash all around?
What sweetness do you hear from the sound of a lyre
if you’ve gone deaf to the pleas of the orphaned child?
What will you do with the morning sun
if you’re blind to what has come to this land?
Are you truly free,
because you do not live in a cage?
The caged bird
is sure to eat for he’ll be fed morning till night
while you who have nothing
just like a fettered lapdog waits,
depending on what the day shall bring
if it will ever come.
Pano bang mamuhay ng malaya?
Tunay ka bang malaya
pagkat ika’y wala sa hawla?
Hindi naninilbihan sa hindi kadugong
iba ang kulay ng balat at anyo?
Malaya ka ba dahil nasisilayan mo ang araw,
napagmamasdan ang buwan
at nararamdaman ang init ng haplos
ng hanging amihan sa gitna ng kadiliman?
Baka naman ika’y parang sampung daliri
na oo nga’t malayang kumilos nang walang paglilimi
pagmasdan mo’t ang kilos naman nito’y
kumporme pa rin sa natural na daloy
pagkat ito’y nakadikit sa iyong palad
kahit gaano pa man ito kalapad.
Oo nga’t maaari kang pumunta kahit saan
ngunit paano itong gagawin kung bulsa mo’y
butas hanggang sa kailailaliman?
Maituturing bang malaya ang isang kaluluwang
ipinapanganak pa lamang ay baon na sa utang?
Utang na ginastos ng walang kapararakan
ng hindi naman dayuhan bagkus ay isang kalahi
na buong hayok na niyurakan yaring kalooban.
Siya na halos isuka ang pagkasarap-sarap na pagkaing
nakahain sa mamahaling pinggan
sapagkat siya’y bundat na sa kabusugan
habang ikaw nama’y kumukulo
ang maasim na sikmurang
parating walang laman.
Ilang beses na bang pinakawalan
itong ibong pipit mula sa kanyang piitan?
Di ba nga’t tuwing may pagtitipong ganyak
Itong mga tibak na hamak
mikoropono’t gitara ‘y pihadong tangan
paliliparin ito at pagbuka ng pakpak ay hahayaan
Subalit , kaibigan, ito’y sa awit lamang
kaya’t kawawang ibo’y umiiyak pa rin sa parang.
Ano ang ganda ng bulaklak na busilak
kung ang pang-amoy mo nama’y manhid
pagkat binara ang ilong mong makitid
ng sangsang ng amoy na basurang hatid?
Aanhin mo ang ganda ng sikat ng umaga
kung bulag ka naman sa sinapit ng inang bayan?
Ano ang silbi ng tamis ng tunog na dulot ng lira
kung bingi ka naman sa panaghoy ng batang ulila?
Malaya ka nga ba kaibigan
pagkat sa hawla ika’y hindi naninirahan?
Pakaisipin mong mabuti
ang ibong pipit na nakapiit ay pihadong kakain
anumang sandali, minsan nga’y pinipilit
samantalang ika’y wala man lang kahit ano
umaasa lamang kung anong sasapit
na tila baga isang aso
nakatali at nag aalumpihit.
What Does It Mean to Live a Free Man?
Can you consider yourself free
because you do not live in a cage;
do not serve foreign masters
who look different than you?
Can you say you’re truly free
just because you can see the sun,
gaze at the moon and feel the gentle breeze
touch your face in the dead of night?
Maybe you are just like your ten fingers
that can move at will
but whose movements are dictated
by the confines of your hand.
Yes, you can go anywhere you please
but cannot do so with barely a dime.
Can one consider free a soul
born heir to debt amounting to trillions?
A debt ill-spent not by a foreign
conqueror but someone of the same race,
who with voracious greed ravaged your being.
He who almost puked the delicious delicacies
served on ornate platters with silver spoons
because he is fully satiated and cannot have more
while your empty stomach grinds
and growls from hunger.
How often have we set the sparrow free?
We have sung in the streets many times
“put a bird inside a cage and it will cry endlessly”
and so we let it go and set it to flight
but that was only in a song
and the poor bird still cries.
Can you claim freedom when all you feel
is the filth of moral degradation?
What is the beauty of a rose
if your sense of smell has been numbed
by the stench of trash all around?
What sweetness do you hear from the sound of a lyre
if you’ve gone deaf to the pleas of the orphaned child?
What will you do with the morning sun
if you’re blind to what has come to this land?
Are you truly free,
because you do not live in a cage?
The caged bird
is sure to eat for he’ll be fed morning till night
while you who have nothing
just like a fettered lapdog waits,
depending on what the day shall bring
if it will ever come.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
One dinner that costs too much?
The now popular dinner that cost PGMA's entourage $21,000 got the people even madder than they already are. "It's just a simple dinner," as Remonde puts it. "Not a single centavo of taxpayers' money was spent for that dinner," he added saying that the famous repast was hosted and paid for by Leyte Rep. Martin Romualdez. Furthermore, "A Php1 million dinner tab in Manila can be too much but not in New York," says QC Rep. Danilo Suarez, adding that he could have foot the bill..."
Several things come to mind. First, the simplicity angle. A dinner of soup, salad, a main course, drinks and coffee or tea may have been considered simple for their tastes but with that kind of bill, I cannot consider it simple. If we go by Rep. Suarez' argument, why then did the New York Post publish the cost of the dinner? If that was not news for it was indeed ordinary, NY Post would have just ignored it. Dog bites man is not news as opposed to a man biting the dog.
Remonde is quick in saying that he would ask the deputy executive secretary to release this week a financial statement on all expenses incurred during the visit. I do not have any doubt that it will yield nothing with regard to the dinner for it has been paid for by someone else, another government official. Hmmm, could he also look into the pork barrel of the said representative? Or yeah, maybe he is extremely wealthy like Mr. Suarez who is willing to foot the bill for he has lots of cash to spare. But then, the money could have been spent elsewhere, like education where hundreds of children could have benefited like, uhm, the place which he represents.
But of course, I can never understand their ways. Maybe what they have done is justified considering the fortunes of their circumstances and based on what they have. I remember a scene in Jesus Christ Superstar when Judas confronts Christ why He allows Mary Magdalene to use brand new, expensive fine ointment on Him, Jesus answers, "There will be poor always, pathetically struggling, look at the good things you've got." meaning He cannot save the poor by not using expensive things. But then, that's Tim Rice and the play is kind of blasphemous anyway. But maybe, just maybe, there is some truth in that. I will never understand what it is to be rich. I am merely an ordinary man trying to earn a living doing honest hard work. Working hard and staying poor, that is.
Several things come to mind. First, the simplicity angle. A dinner of soup, salad, a main course, drinks and coffee or tea may have been considered simple for their tastes but with that kind of bill, I cannot consider it simple. If we go by Rep. Suarez' argument, why then did the New York Post publish the cost of the dinner? If that was not news for it was indeed ordinary, NY Post would have just ignored it. Dog bites man is not news as opposed to a man biting the dog.
Remonde is quick in saying that he would ask the deputy executive secretary to release this week a financial statement on all expenses incurred during the visit. I do not have any doubt that it will yield nothing with regard to the dinner for it has been paid for by someone else, another government official. Hmmm, could he also look into the pork barrel of the said representative? Or yeah, maybe he is extremely wealthy like Mr. Suarez who is willing to foot the bill for he has lots of cash to spare. But then, the money could have been spent elsewhere, like education where hundreds of children could have benefited like, uhm, the place which he represents.
But of course, I can never understand their ways. Maybe what they have done is justified considering the fortunes of their circumstances and based on what they have. I remember a scene in Jesus Christ Superstar when Judas confronts Christ why He allows Mary Magdalene to use brand new, expensive fine ointment on Him, Jesus answers, "There will be poor always, pathetically struggling, look at the good things you've got." meaning He cannot save the poor by not using expensive things. But then, that's Tim Rice and the play is kind of blasphemous anyway. But maybe, just maybe, there is some truth in that. I will never understand what it is to be rich. I am merely an ordinary man trying to earn a living doing honest hard work. Working hard and staying poor, that is.
Sunday, August 02, 2009
A lesson learned
As we mourn Cory's death, let us reflect and seriously think about what it means to us. If there's a lesson we all should learn about Cory Aquino's passing, it will be that a true leader is someone who has the people's blessing. Sure, one can use all the tricks in the book to be the top honcho but it does not necessarily mean success. And that is true even for someone with the noblest of intentions.
A true leader is made more by outside forces, circumstances that surround him/her. Cory is such. She never meant to be president. She never meant to be "the one" to oppose and stop the Marcos regime. She never meant to be the people's hero. And yet, all these happened. She was such by circumstance. Only a select few are chosen to lead like this. Cory was and she accepted it and did well.
We have seen political leaders who forced their way to office and how much the people hated them. More often than not, these self-anointed ones cling to power like their lives depended on it. And rightfully so. Their lives do depend on the powers they have arrogated to themselves. As Lord Acton said, power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. As their powers grow, they tend to be dictators who have almost godly powers who can not be touched by mere mortals. Eventually, they begin to rule using fear and intimidation. How many lives were lost so that they can remain in power? You can just imagine how they would be once these powers are taken from them. Dictators fall and when they do, they fall really hard. We saw how Nicolae Ceaucescu of Romania was shot after a two-hour session with a kangaroo court, we saw how Idi Amin fall to nowhere, or Haiti's Francois Duvalier, dying a well hated man. We need not go far. Our very own Ferdinand Marcos, bright as he was, is now regarded as one of the greatest thief in history.
Cory Aquino is a hero by circumstance. She happened to be in the right place at the right time. Who would have thought that Marcos would be forced to call for a snap election while being interviewed by Ted Koppel? She became president simply because of her marriage to Ninoy Aquino, who was felled by a lone bullet of an unknown assailant. As a widow, she had the people's sympathy. As a leader, she had the charisma to lead a nation against a strongman who has ruled for twenty years. She never had any experience to run a country. As a matter of fact, the common joke when she was in power was saying her name with gestures like "Corazon (spanish for heart) and pointing at the heart, then saying C (si, yes) Aqui (here) then pointing to one's brain, and completing it with no!" She was definitely not as bright a politician as Marcos was but she had the determination to continue her husband's fight. She did not even seek vengeance and merely allowed the wheels of justice take its turn. She had the will to govern the people towards peace and contentment. She survived three coup attempts and even emerged as victor.
I recall the time when she had to address the US congress. I could never have been as prouder seeing my president being hailed and given a standing ovation by the leaders of a powerful nation. A nation, who for almost fifty years, would rule us making them our superiors for a very long time. Her speech was interrupted several times by a deafening applause that lasted for several minutes, probably one of the longest this august men and women gave to anyone. Then US House Speaker Ted O'neil regarded the speech "as the finest speech he's heard in his thirty four years in Congress." I believe it simply because this was one speech delivered with sincerity and with a lot of heart. Just as wonderful was her last address to the nation when she bid everyone goodbye. She was even being told that the constitution's prohibition for re election did not apply to her since she did not come into power under the present one. However, she refused saying, "I had not been inaugurated under the present Constitution and it did not bind me in strict terms, but I had campaigned for it and therefore took upon myself the moral obligation to follow, if not its letter then its spirit, that a presidency must accomplish its goal within six years.” Such an inspiring anecdote in the life of a real hero.
To all political leaders and would-be president, heed the lesson history has taught us. If you want to be great, do what great men and women do - selfless devotion to the country and its people.
A true leader is made more by outside forces, circumstances that surround him/her. Cory is such. She never meant to be president. She never meant to be "the one" to oppose and stop the Marcos regime. She never meant to be the people's hero. And yet, all these happened. She was such by circumstance. Only a select few are chosen to lead like this. Cory was and she accepted it and did well.
We have seen political leaders who forced their way to office and how much the people hated them. More often than not, these self-anointed ones cling to power like their lives depended on it. And rightfully so. Their lives do depend on the powers they have arrogated to themselves. As Lord Acton said, power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. As their powers grow, they tend to be dictators who have almost godly powers who can not be touched by mere mortals. Eventually, they begin to rule using fear and intimidation. How many lives were lost so that they can remain in power? You can just imagine how they would be once these powers are taken from them. Dictators fall and when they do, they fall really hard. We saw how Nicolae Ceaucescu of Romania was shot after a two-hour session with a kangaroo court, we saw how Idi Amin fall to nowhere, or Haiti's Francois Duvalier, dying a well hated man. We need not go far. Our very own Ferdinand Marcos, bright as he was, is now regarded as one of the greatest thief in history.
Cory Aquino is a hero by circumstance. She happened to be in the right place at the right time. Who would have thought that Marcos would be forced to call for a snap election while being interviewed by Ted Koppel? She became president simply because of her marriage to Ninoy Aquino, who was felled by a lone bullet of an unknown assailant. As a widow, she had the people's sympathy. As a leader, she had the charisma to lead a nation against a strongman who has ruled for twenty years. She never had any experience to run a country. As a matter of fact, the common joke when she was in power was saying her name with gestures like "Corazon (spanish for heart) and pointing at the heart, then saying C (si, yes) Aqui (here) then pointing to one's brain, and completing it with no!" She was definitely not as bright a politician as Marcos was but she had the determination to continue her husband's fight. She did not even seek vengeance and merely allowed the wheels of justice take its turn. She had the will to govern the people towards peace and contentment. She survived three coup attempts and even emerged as victor.
I recall the time when she had to address the US congress. I could never have been as prouder seeing my president being hailed and given a standing ovation by the leaders of a powerful nation. A nation, who for almost fifty years, would rule us making them our superiors for a very long time. Her speech was interrupted several times by a deafening applause that lasted for several minutes, probably one of the longest this august men and women gave to anyone. Then US House Speaker Ted O'neil regarded the speech "as the finest speech he's heard in his thirty four years in Congress." I believe it simply because this was one speech delivered with sincerity and with a lot of heart. Just as wonderful was her last address to the nation when she bid everyone goodbye. She was even being told that the constitution's prohibition for re election did not apply to her since she did not come into power under the present one. However, she refused saying, "I had not been inaugurated under the present Constitution and it did not bind me in strict terms, but I had campaigned for it and therefore took upon myself the moral obligation to follow, if not its letter then its spirit, that a presidency must accomplish its goal within six years.” Such an inspiring anecdote in the life of a real hero.
To all political leaders and would-be president, heed the lesson history has taught us. If you want to be great, do what great men and women do - selfless devotion to the country and its people.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Computers counting the ballots?
So much has been said about the computerization of the coming elections in 2010, if there is going to be one, of course. Honesty does not seem to be one of our president's virtues. She has lied to us many times before.
Granting that there shall be one, so much has happened, most of which were speculations, since we began thinking about computerizing this very controversial democratic exercise.
Perhaps the main reason why we are adamant in adopting this kind of technology, in spite of its tremendous cost to the taxpayer, into our system is, we are running out of ideas on how to conduct an honest and fair election. From the time Marcos got re-elected sometime in the 1960’s, at least to my mind as that was my first election related experience (I was in grade school at the time), the phrase “whoever has the guns, goons and gold" (not necessarily in that order) wins the election. Since then, losers have cried "foul" and "rampant cheating" like an "amen" to close a prayer. Sadly, we have learned to accept this as part of the elections.
Is computerization the answer to our woes come election time? While I hate to be a doomsayer, I doubt it for the following reasons:
1. The players have not changed! We will have to travel a long, arduous road to change these politicians ways. Losers will still cry they have been cheated. Never mind the evidences. They will do so just the same. They will find enough reasons just to justify having lost in their bid to power and fame. And maybe rightfully so. What with all the money they have spent on their campaign. There should be at least an ROI, if not in office, at least a justification for losing face. So, the journey is until kingdom come.
2. Corollary to number 1, we are only minimizing cheating in the counting, not the entire elections per se. Remember that this activity starts with the campaign period until a candidate has been declared a winner. Just right now, while the campaign period has not even started, we see the moneyed politicians unabashedly using the media to glorify themselves. We see the names of government officials glaring in our face with projects they have undertaken. Never mind that they were obligated to serve. Never mind that it was our money that was used for the same.
3. Vote buying can still happen. In a country where there is hunger and despair, where there are people who are living in dire straits, selling their votes is easy money and will solve their problem at least for the day.
4. How will the system correct flying voters, or fictitious voters whose names were taken from tombstones? We have seen it before. People long dead voting. Have we shouted hallellujah, it's a miracle? Never. We simply shrugged our shoulders and maybe winced in pain.
5. How certain are we that these machines cannot be manipulated? These are man-made and even the highest type of program can be hacked. I remember the snap elections when the computer operators marched out of the PICC because they were being forced to cheat. If that happened before, it can happen again. At any rate, it just proves that computerization is no guarantee that it will eradicate cheating.
A democracy like ours is based on the freedom of its citizenry to choose its leaders. It is unfortunate that this exercise has been abused much to the detriment of the people. But still, let us keep our fingers crossed that our money is being spent on something that is useful for us. After all, we have already suffered for too long. Surely, there is no other direction left but forward. But how long can we wait? We deserve a break!
Granting that there shall be one, so much has happened, most of which were speculations, since we began thinking about computerizing this very controversial democratic exercise.
Perhaps the main reason why we are adamant in adopting this kind of technology, in spite of its tremendous cost to the taxpayer, into our system is, we are running out of ideas on how to conduct an honest and fair election. From the time Marcos got re-elected sometime in the 1960’s, at least to my mind as that was my first election related experience (I was in grade school at the time), the phrase “whoever has the guns, goons and gold" (not necessarily in that order) wins the election. Since then, losers have cried "foul" and "rampant cheating" like an "amen" to close a prayer. Sadly, we have learned to accept this as part of the elections.
Is computerization the answer to our woes come election time? While I hate to be a doomsayer, I doubt it for the following reasons:
1. The players have not changed! We will have to travel a long, arduous road to change these politicians ways. Losers will still cry they have been cheated. Never mind the evidences. They will do so just the same. They will find enough reasons just to justify having lost in their bid to power and fame. And maybe rightfully so. What with all the money they have spent on their campaign. There should be at least an ROI, if not in office, at least a justification for losing face. So, the journey is until kingdom come.
2. Corollary to number 1, we are only minimizing cheating in the counting, not the entire elections per se. Remember that this activity starts with the campaign period until a candidate has been declared a winner. Just right now, while the campaign period has not even started, we see the moneyed politicians unabashedly using the media to glorify themselves. We see the names of government officials glaring in our face with projects they have undertaken. Never mind that they were obligated to serve. Never mind that it was our money that was used for the same.
3. Vote buying can still happen. In a country where there is hunger and despair, where there are people who are living in dire straits, selling their votes is easy money and will solve their problem at least for the day.
4. How will the system correct flying voters, or fictitious voters whose names were taken from tombstones? We have seen it before. People long dead voting. Have we shouted hallellujah, it's a miracle? Never. We simply shrugged our shoulders and maybe winced in pain.
5. How certain are we that these machines cannot be manipulated? These are man-made and even the highest type of program can be hacked. I remember the snap elections when the computer operators marched out of the PICC because they were being forced to cheat. If that happened before, it can happen again. At any rate, it just proves that computerization is no guarantee that it will eradicate cheating.
A democracy like ours is based on the freedom of its citizenry to choose its leaders. It is unfortunate that this exercise has been abused much to the detriment of the people. But still, let us keep our fingers crossed that our money is being spent on something that is useful for us. After all, we have already suffered for too long. Surely, there is no other direction left but forward. But how long can we wait? We deserve a break!
Monday, July 13, 2009
Someone is not going home tonight
As our HMO provider's contract has expired, we are now in the process of selecting our next health card. Last Thursday would have been an ordinary presentation of the various contenders for our school, or so we thought. Amid the hohums and hrmphs we gave out as we listened to each presentors, we did not expect to be shocked for the unexpected ending.
The last presentor could have been ordinary except for a minor slur in his speech and the fact that he was sort of hurrying up his presentation did not help any. It could have been an Ilocano accent, I thought. However, just as he finished and handed the mike over to the emcee, he collapsed! I did not notice it. I just got to realize something was happening when I saw a colleague rushing out of the auditorium and the guy was being carried out. We looked on puzzled but stayed inside the auditorium for the closing prayer.
When I got out of the auditorium, I happened to pass by the clinic and curiosity got the better of me, went inside to check how the guy was doing. He was still unconscious. I just got a glimpse of the school doctor unwrapping that thing she uses to take my blood pressure. I heard her suggest that the guy be taken to the hospital immediately. Since I was there already, I helped carry the guy to the vehicle. That being way past the dismissal time, the ambulance that stays inside the campus has already gone.
He was very heavy. I thought it was a wrong move on my part to take the head part. I may not be able to sustain enough strength all the way to the van. Thank God, I did. As we loaded him to the vehicle, I noticed that he has already wetted his pants. That was not a good sign. I remember the time when I took an unconscious neighbor, to the hospital one morning in 2007. He had a heart attack and he did wet his pants. I remember the doctor saying that was not a good sign. My neighbor was pronounced dead after several attempts to revive him. So you can just imagine the horror I felt when I felt the guy had wetted his pants.
As my car is still out of commission, (now they tell me it's the piston rings that do not function well) I had to stay with my friend to whom I hitch a ride all the way to my place. It was raining hard and we decided a couple of beers could be handy. It was there when my principal called me up to tell me the guy has expired. God bless his soul.
I wish the circumstances were different but experiences like this one makes my creative juices flow and it triggered my poetic instincts anew. Here is one poem I dedicate to the man who shall forever be unnamed to me. May he rest in peace.
Someone is not going home tonight
I can imagine how your morning went.
You probably calculated how much toothpaste
you shall put on your toothbrush.
Parted your straight hair with your favorite comb,
favored your black shirt over the red one
and meticulously checked if your white pants
have been ironed out well before putting it on.
I bet you never knew
you were not going home tonight.
You must have sat down quietly on the table,
said grace before your meal. Spread butter over
your toast albeit mindlessly.
Your thoughts were on your work
and a thousand other things.
You probably gave out reminders
to your kids like not to stay
late for after all
you never knew
you were not going home tonight.
You shined your shoes and put them on.
You kissed your wife goodbye
and headed for the door.
With your hand holding on to your youngest,
laptop clutched on your other shoulder,
you stepped out of the gate, walked a few steps
and turned around to look back at your house.
You missed your wife’s wave of goodbye
for she was engaged with household chores.
If she only knew
you were not going home tonight.
I noticed the slur on your speech
how your tongue rolled out the syllables.
Maybe it was just an accent you had
or so I thought. Then, all of a sudden
you melted like a candle.
Never got up until you expired.
To me, you may be a stranger
who shall remain unnamed except
for the thought that
you were someone
who was not going home tonight.
rolly
The last presentor could have been ordinary except for a minor slur in his speech and the fact that he was sort of hurrying up his presentation did not help any. It could have been an Ilocano accent, I thought. However, just as he finished and handed the mike over to the emcee, he collapsed! I did not notice it. I just got to realize something was happening when I saw a colleague rushing out of the auditorium and the guy was being carried out. We looked on puzzled but stayed inside the auditorium for the closing prayer.
When I got out of the auditorium, I happened to pass by the clinic and curiosity got the better of me, went inside to check how the guy was doing. He was still unconscious. I just got a glimpse of the school doctor unwrapping that thing she uses to take my blood pressure. I heard her suggest that the guy be taken to the hospital immediately. Since I was there already, I helped carry the guy to the vehicle. That being way past the dismissal time, the ambulance that stays inside the campus has already gone.
He was very heavy. I thought it was a wrong move on my part to take the head part. I may not be able to sustain enough strength all the way to the van. Thank God, I did. As we loaded him to the vehicle, I noticed that he has already wetted his pants. That was not a good sign. I remember the time when I took an unconscious neighbor, to the hospital one morning in 2007. He had a heart attack and he did wet his pants. I remember the doctor saying that was not a good sign. My neighbor was pronounced dead after several attempts to revive him. So you can just imagine the horror I felt when I felt the guy had wetted his pants.
As my car is still out of commission, (now they tell me it's the piston rings that do not function well) I had to stay with my friend to whom I hitch a ride all the way to my place. It was raining hard and we decided a couple of beers could be handy. It was there when my principal called me up to tell me the guy has expired. God bless his soul.
I wish the circumstances were different but experiences like this one makes my creative juices flow and it triggered my poetic instincts anew. Here is one poem I dedicate to the man who shall forever be unnamed to me. May he rest in peace.
Someone is not going home tonight
I can imagine how your morning went.
You probably calculated how much toothpaste
you shall put on your toothbrush.
Parted your straight hair with your favorite comb,
favored your black shirt over the red one
and meticulously checked if your white pants
have been ironed out well before putting it on.
I bet you never knew
you were not going home tonight.
You must have sat down quietly on the table,
said grace before your meal. Spread butter over
your toast albeit mindlessly.
Your thoughts were on your work
and a thousand other things.
You probably gave out reminders
to your kids like not to stay
late for after all
you never knew
you were not going home tonight.
You shined your shoes and put them on.
You kissed your wife goodbye
and headed for the door.
With your hand holding on to your youngest,
laptop clutched on your other shoulder,
you stepped out of the gate, walked a few steps
and turned around to look back at your house.
You missed your wife’s wave of goodbye
for she was engaged with household chores.
If she only knew
you were not going home tonight.
I noticed the slur on your speech
how your tongue rolled out the syllables.
Maybe it was just an accent you had
or so I thought. Then, all of a sudden
you melted like a candle.
Never got up until you expired.
To me, you may be a stranger
who shall remain unnamed except
for the thought that
you were someone
who was not going home tonight.
rolly
Thursday, July 02, 2009
trade-offs
Alas, the traffic I have to go through everyday is taking its toll on my old car. You see, the SLEX is undergoing its second phase of the skyway and causing a huge traffic gridlock (if that's what its called) on both sides. What used to be a three-lane street has been reduced to two and to make matters worse, the same clowns running the traffic flow refuse to give up the idea of having a counterflow of northbound commuters with us, who they probably consider as southbound second-class citizen road users. In effect, southbound street has been reduced further to just a lane and is naturally causing a very slim bottle neck.
I cannot manage to suffer traffic to and from work. That would be awful. So, what I do is leave the house early, say, 5:30 am and by the time I reach the SLEX, either the counterflow has not started yet or is just about to start. Sometimes, I see the motorcop heading the vehicles running opposite my lane with siren blasting and weaving his motorcycle from left to right as if he was sweeping the floor. \
Last Tuesday, however, in spite of the thirty minute ride to school, I noticed my car was registering a high temperature. That's bad considering that I was not locked up in traffic. I brushed it off thinking maybe I just need to clean the reservoir and add more water. Fine. I did those. Come time to go home, I prayed and headed for battle. As expected, the traffic had already piled up. My car was doing okay until I reached the Sucat area. The temperature was already very high and was continuously increasing. What was I supposed to do but stop and add more water. A kind worker helped to veer away traffic from me. After that, I was on my way again.
Then lo and behold, a traffic jam again at Market Market in C5. God, I'm so close to home darn it! I stopped again to do the same ritual when someone from a tow truck who happens to be right beside me approached me and asked if the car would not start. I told him it's just overheated. You're not getting any cent from me, silly :-)
And so, that was when I decided to either take a leave of absence the following day and take the car to the radiator shop or better yet, hitch a ride with my friend Jay to and from work. I texted him and told him of my predicament. Surprised (not), he replied back with a bargain. Done! Just tell me where to pick you up in the morning and that you will have to drink with us Thursday and Friday Hmmmm, free ride and pleasure vs staying with the mechanic for half a day ... tough choices. Guess what I chose.
Last night, not even a Thursday yet for the regular Thursday club soiree, "we" decided to have a beer or two. Well, as you know how this thirst quenching brew affects the senses, two led to three and then more until it was already way past 9.
Great! I have two more nights of pleasure. However, around 10:30 pm, a family friend called me up to confirm if a text message she received about no classes due to A(H1N1) flu in our school was true. I told her that was just a rumor but I will check it with my superiors just the same. What do I know? It was true. So there, what would have been a win-win trade off with my thirsty friend has been put on a halt just like that.
BUMMER!!!!!
I cannot manage to suffer traffic to and from work. That would be awful. So, what I do is leave the house early, say, 5:30 am and by the time I reach the SLEX, either the counterflow has not started yet or is just about to start. Sometimes, I see the motorcop heading the vehicles running opposite my lane with siren blasting and weaving his motorcycle from left to right as if he was sweeping the floor. \
Last Tuesday, however, in spite of the thirty minute ride to school, I noticed my car was registering a high temperature. That's bad considering that I was not locked up in traffic. I brushed it off thinking maybe I just need to clean the reservoir and add more water. Fine. I did those. Come time to go home, I prayed and headed for battle. As expected, the traffic had already piled up. My car was doing okay until I reached the Sucat area. The temperature was already very high and was continuously increasing. What was I supposed to do but stop and add more water. A kind worker helped to veer away traffic from me. After that, I was on my way again.
Then lo and behold, a traffic jam again at Market Market in C5. God, I'm so close to home darn it! I stopped again to do the same ritual when someone from a tow truck who happens to be right beside me approached me and asked if the car would not start. I told him it's just overheated. You're not getting any cent from me, silly :-)
And so, that was when I decided to either take a leave of absence the following day and take the car to the radiator shop or better yet, hitch a ride with my friend Jay to and from work. I texted him and told him of my predicament. Surprised (not), he replied back with a bargain. Done! Just tell me where to pick you up in the morning and that you will have to drink with us Thursday and Friday Hmmmm, free ride and pleasure vs staying with the mechanic for half a day ... tough choices. Guess what I chose.
Last night, not even a Thursday yet for the regular Thursday club soiree, "we" decided to have a beer or two. Well, as you know how this thirst quenching brew affects the senses, two led to three and then more until it was already way past 9.
Great! I have two more nights of pleasure. However, around 10:30 pm, a family friend called me up to confirm if a text message she received about no classes due to A(H1N1) flu in our school was true. I told her that was just a rumor but I will check it with my superiors just the same. What do I know? It was true. So there, what would have been a win-win trade off with my thirsty friend has been put on a halt just like that.
BUMMER!!!!!
Sunday, June 21, 2009
goodbye, bro!
Today, being father's day, we should be celebrating as we face the never ending challenges of fatherhood. As my father has brought me up in this world as a responsible being, I pass this torch to my children hoping that I shall be more successful than my dad. As they say, the offspring should be a better creature than who has sired him/her. I have a few more years before I can truly say my children are all independently on their own. When that time comes, I pray that they shall have learned to live life to its fullest, be happy with what they have but continue to dream the dream of a better tomorrow.
In the meantime, we, as a family, shall mourn the loss of a father in Bro. Ceci who passed away yesterday. We shall truly miss his anecdotes, his quotable phrases and his witty remarks. We shall miss posing for him as he snaps pictures of everyone and post it is in his multiply account. God bless you on your trip back home, Bro. Ceci.
In the meantime, we, as a family, shall mourn the loss of a father in Bro. Ceci who passed away yesterday. We shall truly miss his anecdotes, his quotable phrases and his witty remarks. We shall miss posing for him as he snaps pictures of everyone and post it is in his multiply account. God bless you on your trip back home, Bro. Ceci.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Coming full circle
When I opened this blog in May, 2004, I was just assigned to a new position in our school - that of Level Coordinator for the lower years, much like the prefect of discipline and more. The opening of the blog was very timely as new challenges laid ahead. However, much to my disappointment, I could not blog about my work, most specially the specifics as I have started to gain readers outside of my circle of friends. Hence, I blogged about education and teaching in general, which later on evolved into a gamut of different topics, a mixture of how I view life, adventures, fatherhood, family, etc.
Two years later, the school decided to do some re-organizing and I was back in the classroom again. After all, I did sign up to be a teacher. I was enjoying myself without the hassles of administrative work only mindful of grades, lesson plans and modules, etc. However, just as I was collecting more visual materials and researching for newer projects to give, a new boss appears and yet another re-organization. He invited me to his office one day last school year telling me that he was eyeing me to be the high school prefect of discipline. I respectfully declined as I do not think I still have the stamina for the position. I am but nine years away from retirement and I told him the pressures of the job might cause me my life (in full drama, hahaha). However, as a sort of compromise, I told him that if he really wanted me to be a part of his team, I was open to the idea of heading the department again, a position I handled for about nine years until I resigned in 1997. Since there was noone applying for the job from among my co-teachers, I got it. So at this time, I am now the Art Coordinator, once again taking the helm of the department. I guess this is just right as I may be too old to be teaching and about time I learned new tricks from fresher blood who speaks the language of the young and is abreast of the new trends in teaching.
So there, this blog has come full circle and awaiting new posts as new challenges await. So help me God.
Two years later, the school decided to do some re-organizing and I was back in the classroom again. After all, I did sign up to be a teacher. I was enjoying myself without the hassles of administrative work only mindful of grades, lesson plans and modules, etc. However, just as I was collecting more visual materials and researching for newer projects to give, a new boss appears and yet another re-organization. He invited me to his office one day last school year telling me that he was eyeing me to be the high school prefect of discipline. I respectfully declined as I do not think I still have the stamina for the position. I am but nine years away from retirement and I told him the pressures of the job might cause me my life (in full drama, hahaha). However, as a sort of compromise, I told him that if he really wanted me to be a part of his team, I was open to the idea of heading the department again, a position I handled for about nine years until I resigned in 1997. Since there was noone applying for the job from among my co-teachers, I got it. So at this time, I am now the Art Coordinator, once again taking the helm of the department. I guess this is just right as I may be too old to be teaching and about time I learned new tricks from fresher blood who speaks the language of the young and is abreast of the new trends in teaching.
So there, this blog has come full circle and awaiting new posts as new challenges await. So help me God.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
I tried to sing in Singapore for the first time but Malaysia took my heart
I'm back from a four day tour of Singapore (if that can be called one) and Malaysia. I was with my sister-in-law, her husband and the husband's sister who just flew in from Saipan for a visit. Planning was done as early as last month, looking for hotels, bus terminals and all those things. Guess what, we missed our bus going to Clark. We even saw it leave Megamall around 2:15 am. The lady I made reservations with made sure it was leaving the place at 2:39. We tried to catch it but to no avail. We landed up in another bus station going to Alaminos. We had to disembark at Dau and take a van going to Clark.
The view from our hotel window
Taken while taking a rest inside our hotel room
I can hardly say I've toured Singapore. We arrived there around 1:30 and got out of the airport maybe 30 mins. after. We went directly to Furama hotel where we were booked, went out for lunch in a mall, buy some goodies and before we knew it, it was already way past six. We went back to the hotel to take a rest. We said we only needed 5 minutes of nap time but since we hardly slept the night before, we woke at 10. We've been told that the stores by Orchard Road would have been closed and asked where we could go to shop. We ended up in what is known as Little India called Mohamed Mustafa, a retail giant in the country.
There, anything and everything that can be sold is being sold. The place is replete with stalls you can barely walk and is teeming with people at anytime. We ended up in the wee hours of the morning and yet the place was still jam packed. The following day, we woke up late and headed for the airport. The taxi driver was a jolly fellow who had a lot of entertaining stories about his country. He said that Singapore is a fine city, meaning everything you do is being fined. He had his own versions of the acronyms. Too bad, I did not write them down. Anyway, the cab drivers there speak english and are very honest. When I asked the driver if it was safe to go anywhere, he said, "Let's put it this way. Low crime does not mean no crime."
Anyway, my best impression of the country is that it is so clean and their system is very efficient. Nevertheless, there was a little snag at the airport. When I put my bag into the x-ray, the men stationed there asked me to open it. This was a surprise because I never expected that they would do that. The man by the x-ray machine told the other guy that there's another small bag which he then took out. Lo and behold, it contained a cutter. I have forgotten all about it. They confiscated it, borrowed my passport and copied the number. Hmmm, does this mean I can no longer visit Singapore?
Malaysia is 45 minutes away by plane. I have been there before and am a little familiar with the place as I and my wife had been competently and generously toured by my friend, Bayi. Arriving at the airport, we took lunch and hailed a bus for KL Sentral.
They don't look strange, do they?
My first taste of tobacco after Singapore and it tasted heavenly!
Bus ride from LCCT to KL Sentral
At KL Sentral, we took Bayi's advice to go to the taxi station where we are given a cab for Genting Highlands. It costs RM 80 to get there. Funny but our cab driver looked like Telly Savalas of the Kojak fame. Anyway, Genting Highlands is an entertainmen cum theme park/casino and a nice get away from the hustles and bustles of the city. We checked in, after several hours of queueing, at the First World Hotel, that boasts to have the most number of rooms in the world. If that doesn't impress you yet, here are some facts. We arrived there, got a number before we can even check in.
We were #1446
346 to go!
Suffice it to say that we were all ready for dinner when we got to our room. The outdoor activity area was already closed leaving us to the indoor activity to venture. We watched a show named DREAMZ, a song and dance acrobat and magic show featuring both Asians and mostly European artists. They had white lions and tigers in the show and it was indeed entertaining.
After the show, what else was there to do but shop and yes, try our chances at the casino. As to be expected, I lost about RM150. That would be about Php 2000. Not bad considering I stopped at around 3 am. I should have stopped while I was ahead!
That morning, at breakfast, I took revenge and ate to my heart's content at the buffet breakfast included in our package. I ate like there was no tomorrow! AFter that, we toured the place, took the train that goes around the place and checked out. ON our way back to KL, we opted to ride the cable car. The cable car is a 15 minute ride of about 3.4 kilometers above the canopy of Malaysian rainforest. The first salvo of the trip is a whopping hundreds of feet drop that goes all the way to about a mile. It was a harrowing experience for me considering that I have fear of heights and I was in front seat.
When we got to KL, we stayed at the Grand Season Hotel and from there was picked up by Bayi and his wife, who graciously treated us to a sumptuous dinner that is really a gastronomic's delight. He offered us a bevy of vegetables, seafood and a local crispy pata with a new twist. Instead of serving it plain and dipped with a mixture of soy sauce, vinegar and garlic, it was bathed in a sort of satay sauce. Bayi always the good entertainer, has done it again. I was so sated I can hardly breathe.
The following day, we headed for the Petronas Tower. We got tickets and as the tickets we got were for the 5:30pm viewing, we decided to take a train and head for the market in Penang Sari.
Underground bus station at KLCC
The bus station at KLCC is underground, probably so as not to ruin the view of the Petronas Tower but it goes above ground just as our LRT thereafter. The ride costs RM1. Which we think is very cheap.
This is where we got off
Again, my companions went on a shopping spree while I just window shopped, watched the artists work at the far end just like what Ermita was during the early 70's and managed to buy bracelets for my wife and kids and a set of soft charcoal pencils
for myself. What can I do, I barely carry money and having lost at the casino, I only have some left for food hahaha.
Thereafter, we took the train again and headed for the Petronas. While waiting for our scheduled tour, I happen to chance upon a gallery showcasing one of the local artists on exhibit while my companions shopped till they dropped. Too bad, I couldn't take pictures but the show was a good one.
Anyway, Malaysia is not a very different place for a Filipino. While their food
has a distinct taste, the people are just like us. What is amazing is how they managed to live together, in spite of their different religious, ethnic and cultural traditions. I have often wondered why there were too many words that sound familiar like lelaki for males, masuk for entry and this:
I'm sure the list can go on and on and then it dawned on me. We share the same heritage knowing that our ancestors are Malays coming here using boats called balangays. That is if Otley Beyer is correct.
I can hardly say I've toured Singapore. We arrived there around 1:30 and got out of the airport maybe 30 mins. after. We went directly to Furama hotel where we were booked, went out for lunch in a mall, buy some goodies and before we knew it, it was already way past six. We went back to the hotel to take a rest. We said we only needed 5 minutes of nap time but since we hardly slept the night before, we woke at 10. We've been told that the stores by Orchard Road would have been closed and asked where we could go to shop. We ended up in what is known as Little India called Mohamed Mustafa, a retail giant in the country.
There, anything and everything that can be sold is being sold. The place is replete with stalls you can barely walk and is teeming with people at anytime. We ended up in the wee hours of the morning and yet the place was still jam packed. The following day, we woke up late and headed for the airport. The taxi driver was a jolly fellow who had a lot of entertaining stories about his country. He said that Singapore is a fine city, meaning everything you do is being fined. He had his own versions of the acronyms. Too bad, I did not write them down. Anyway, the cab drivers there speak english and are very honest. When I asked the driver if it was safe to go anywhere, he said, "Let's put it this way. Low crime does not mean no crime."
Anyway, my best impression of the country is that it is so clean and their system is very efficient. Nevertheless, there was a little snag at the airport. When I put my bag into the x-ray, the men stationed there asked me to open it. This was a surprise because I never expected that they would do that. The man by the x-ray machine told the other guy that there's another small bag which he then took out. Lo and behold, it contained a cutter. I have forgotten all about it. They confiscated it, borrowed my passport and copied the number. Hmmm, does this mean I can no longer visit Singapore?
Malaysia is 45 minutes away by plane. I have been there before and am a little familiar with the place as I and my wife had been competently and generously toured by my friend, Bayi. Arriving at the airport, we took lunch and hailed a bus for KL Sentral.
At KL Sentral, we took Bayi's advice to go to the taxi station where we are given a cab for Genting Highlands. It costs RM 80 to get there. Funny but our cab driver looked like Telly Savalas of the Kojak fame. Anyway, Genting Highlands is an entertainmen cum theme park/casino and a nice get away from the hustles and bustles of the city. We checked in, after several hours of queueing, at the First World Hotel, that boasts to have the most number of rooms in the world. If that doesn't impress you yet, here are some facts. We arrived there, got a number before we can even check in.
Suffice it to say that we were all ready for dinner when we got to our room. The outdoor activity area was already closed leaving us to the indoor activity to venture. We watched a show named DREAMZ, a song and dance acrobat and magic show featuring both Asians and mostly European artists. They had white lions and tigers in the show and it was indeed entertaining.
After the show, what else was there to do but shop and yes, try our chances at the casino. As to be expected, I lost about RM150. That would be about Php 2000. Not bad considering I stopped at around 3 am. I should have stopped while I was ahead!
That morning, at breakfast, I took revenge and ate to my heart's content at the buffet breakfast included in our package. I ate like there was no tomorrow! AFter that, we toured the place, took the train that goes around the place and checked out. ON our way back to KL, we opted to ride the cable car. The cable car is a 15 minute ride of about 3.4 kilometers above the canopy of Malaysian rainforest. The first salvo of the trip is a whopping hundreds of feet drop that goes all the way to about a mile. It was a harrowing experience for me considering that I have fear of heights and I was in front seat.
When we got to KL, we stayed at the Grand Season Hotel and from there was picked up by Bayi and his wife, who graciously treated us to a sumptuous dinner that is really a gastronomic's delight. He offered us a bevy of vegetables, seafood and a local crispy pata with a new twist. Instead of serving it plain and dipped with a mixture of soy sauce, vinegar and garlic, it was bathed in a sort of satay sauce. Bayi always the good entertainer, has done it again. I was so sated I can hardly breathe.
The following day, we headed for the Petronas Tower. We got tickets and as the tickets we got were for the 5:30pm viewing, we decided to take a train and head for the market in Penang Sari.
The bus station at KLCC is underground, probably so as not to ruin the view of the Petronas Tower but it goes above ground just as our LRT thereafter. The ride costs RM1. Which we think is very cheap.
Again, my companions went on a shopping spree while I just window shopped, watched the artists work at the far end just like what Ermita was during the early 70's and managed to buy bracelets for my wife and kids and a set of soft charcoal pencils
for myself. What can I do, I barely carry money and having lost at the casino, I only have some left for food hahaha.
Thereafter, we took the train again and headed for the Petronas. While waiting for our scheduled tour, I happen to chance upon a gallery showcasing one of the local artists on exhibit while my companions shopped till they dropped. Too bad, I couldn't take pictures but the show was a good one.
Anyway, Malaysia is not a very different place for a Filipino. While their food
has a distinct taste, the people are just like us. What is amazing is how they managed to live together, in spite of their different religious, ethnic and cultural traditions. I have often wondered why there were too many words that sound familiar like lelaki for males, masuk for entry and this:
I'm sure the list can go on and on and then it dawned on me. We share the same heritage knowing that our ancestors are Malays coming here using boats called balangays. That is if Otley Beyer is correct.
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