Hidalgo Love In The Digital Age

090178

EN11 R17

Hidalgo Love In The Digital Age

Local online photography forums—such as Lomomanila and Digital Photographer Philippines—are filled with Hidalgo stories. “Found a used Horizon Kompakt in good condition,” writes a regular forum crawler, “for half the price of the one I saw in Hongkong last year. Score!” Another user enthuses buying “loads of expired 135 slides for only PhP120 each,” obviously thrilled about filling his refrigerator with his film stash.

Found in the outskirts of Quiapo’s Muslim community, somewhere beyond Taft Avenue and just a few turns away from UST, is Hidalgo, a strip of shops focused on selling photography gear. From triple-lens compact plastic cameras to multi-coloured reflectors, vintage Russian cameras to flash diffusers in every conceivable shape and size, it seems that just about everything has been and can be found there—and at the right price.

Initially, from all the great finds shared on online forums, the word “Hidalgo” conjures up cobblestone paths, old-fashioned signage, tan walls darkened with age but well-kept all the same. Throw in a creepy shop assistant and musty air every now and then, for good measure. To the photography enthusiast, it wouldn’t be a stretch to call a place where Lubitels and Yashica Electro 35 GSNs are an everyday occurrence as nothing less than heaven.

The Hidalgo experience begins at the big Fujifilm sign at the curve. Filled to the brim with harder-to-find Fuji products like fresh 120 Velvia film, it will satisfy the frustrated film photography devotee who has paid one too many trips to Fuji Megamall in search of 35mm film slides. From there, it’s left onward to the “real” Hidalgo, where the stuff isn’t limited to just Fuji products.

The Hidalgo strip is nothing at all like what you’d expect. The strong mix of canal and smoke engulfs you at the first step, clinging to your every molecule. Although that coupled with cats defecating on the street and random blobs of phlegm are not enough to stop the committed photographer on a mission, newbies might get discouraged by the place’s total lack of glamour.

More so, entering shop after shop is a whirlwind of photography gear—tripods are suspended at low points, shelves stacked with lenses, brand names jumping out at you from every angle. In most, lighting equipment surround the receiving area for visitors, keeping all the merchandise and the sales assistants at bay behind high geometric tables. The sheer amount of stuff there is enough to overwhelm even the most experienced photographer.

However, the magic fades away after a while. A recurring theme emerges among the shops—each one is stocked to the brim, all right, but their stocks are the run-of-the-mill Canon slash Nikon slash Sony slash whatever camera brand stocks you find in stores. Compact, flashy consumer-grade point-and-shoots in different colours smile at you from the displays, dSLRs mounted on rotating platforms glance at you menacingly like a line of soldiers ready to, er, shoot.

Price points are depressingly similar, as well: lower, but not substantially so to merit making the trip all the way to Quiapo in the first place.

Where are the aged silver SLRs? Where are the bright, plastic Japanese cameras with multiple lenses?

No longer a part of Hidalgo, apparently. Digital has completely consumed the beloved photography haunt—literally leaving the film cameras outside near the curb, encased in transparent plastic cases.

Only one of the “film on the curb” displays had a crowd milling around it. A Zenit, A whole bunch of Canon AE-1s, a few Yashica rangefingers—film camera utopia. And no wonder: the man behind the cases speaking to customers was so knowledgeable about film SLR body-and-lens combinations that he immediately pointed out that a “Vivitar Ultra Wide & Slim” had a Vivitar-made body but would need a wide-angle Pentax lens. Although clarifications had to be made [the Vivitar Ultra Wide & Slim in question was compact; he had only SLRs], you could practically hear the audience in the background clapping, stamping their feet at the joy of knowing the “true” Hidalgo is still somewhere

Although Hidalgo has come along way from being the analog haven of before, its spirit is still alive. The integration of the digital culture may be taking over the world, but at least in this one corner of Manila, film is here to stay.

When Luxury Makes You SIck

092306
English 11 - R17
Ms. Iriz Anjelica Astillero
When Luxury Makes You Sick

“I could stay awake just to hear you breathing; watch you smile while you are sleeping...” Ugh! It’s the alarm again. I could have snoozed my phone for the third time if not for fear of waking my roommates.

My head went blank. I looked to my left and saw my roommate curling up on her blanket. I looked straight at the ceiling which I could almost touch with my hands; I saw nothing but pale white paint pure as a clean sheet of paper. It’s dull. It bores me. I closed my eyes, I really wanted to go back to my dreams so that I could escape this annoying feeling but my phone under my pillow vibrated.

1 New Message Received. It was my mom.

“Gcng k na b anak? I’ll call you later ha. Wag silent ang phone.”

It was my mom. She texted again like every other schooldays- reminding me of stuffs I usually ask her to like exams, assignments to be brought for submission and even org meetings for the day. It was the usual routine but my eyes widened when I saw the time on the upper left corner of my handy. It’s 7:45 in the morning and my class starts at 8: 30. I hurriedly went down. Took a bath. Brushed my teeth. Fixed myself and rushed to school.

It was a boring day. Nothing special. I wanted to go home.

Well, at least my 5-minute walk from the school isn’t that boring. It’s funny how I walked from the gate 3 pedestrian exit back to My Place. I was intently looking at its detail from afar. The terraces design of its facade gave it a classy and unique look compared to the buildings around the area. And what made it more outstanding among the rest was its yellow and blue paint which was very inviting. Very happy it seems.

Questions ran through my head. Why is that I would ever feel bored in a place like this? A place where everything is pretty and relaxing.

And now I’m standing outside this 7-storey building which earlier I was just looking from the overpass. From here, I can see our window on the fifth floor. I was staring at it from where I was till light from the afternoon sun flashed through the glass windows that hurt my eyes. I gently brushed my eyes and went on. Kuya Romar greeted me as soon as I approached the glass doors that he dutifully cleans every morning. I smiled as I pushed the cold silver-plated handle of the door. Too bad I forgot to swipe my VING card so the glass doors didn’t opened. Kuya Romar offered me help and swiped his own card. Now, that’s really techy how they are able to recognize a tenant and record his/her log in and log out time which at the end of the month will be used for our bills. And oh! Before I forgot, I’ve been here for a month now though it doesn’t seem because I’m still not used to having my VING card all the time.

I went in. The lobby was filled by fresh rose scent coming from the blue flower-filled china vase placed on a well-carved mahogany side table. To my right, there was a group of students gathered on the leather cushions on their laptops. They’re having fun but they don’t create unnecessary noises. I was tempted to say hi and make friends but I decided to just pass by.

I was heading for the elevator. On the hallways were some abstract paintings, colourful murals of teens living every day, dashing floor tiles, walls made of glass. Now that’s luxury, for me.

Ding. The elevator came. The silver-plated doors opened.

“Hi ma’am! Tataas ka po? (Going up?)” asked Ate Marissa. She is one of the chambermaids assigned on our floor. I smiled at her and went in. She swiped her yellow-blue VING card and pushed button 5. She was wearing pure white and yellow-blue chequered apron like everyone else. Beside her was a pail half full with water and a mop. On her left hand was the vacuum cleaner.

Ding. Elevator doors opened. She smiled at me indicating I can go out first, so I did. “Sige po ma’am. (Bye, ma’am.)” It was awkward being addressed that way. I watched as she turned left to the first corner. She’s gone. I’m all alone in this fully carpeted hallway. I can see myself on the mirrored walls.

I was alone but it didn’t felt that much. I know that somehow, someone is watching over me through the ACCTV cameras installed on every part of the building; somehow that feels awkward too. On the right side. On the left. There were ACCTV cameras and that really is very techy, I thought.

Sigh. I looked at myself on the mirror on the wall. Sigh. I walked along the hallway. Room 503. I pushed the door. It was locked. Again, I forgot to swipe my card. I placed my things on the carpeted floor and searched for the card that seems to open everything around here. I found it. I opened the door. No one was in. It was cold since the aircon doesn’t really go off even there was nobody inside. I went inside and placed my things on my desk. Everything was neat. Probably housekeeping again. I don’t know if I should be happy that I got nothing more to worry about my messy stuffs because way back home it’s all I ever wished for.

Sigh. I went to the kitchen. The marble lavatory was cold to touch. I turned the faucet on and washed my face with the cold water running through the spotless-clean faucet. I dried myself up and looked at myself on the mirror, again.

In a few hours, my roommates will be back from their classes. For now, the lights will beoff leaving only the light passing through the blinds to light up our cold dark room. In a few hours as well, someone’s going to knock on the door. Room Service. Either to deliver food or to collect our trash or laundries. Sigh.

I’m tired. I climbed up my bed. I closed my eyes.

The luxury that is in here... I wanna go home.

"Breaking" the Perception

092760
Ms. Astillero
R17

“Breaking” the Perception


Blinding fanlike spins, unbelievable feats of strength and amazing aerial rotations; this is how most people describe Breakdancing in society. To the average person, Breakdancing is all about flash and entertainment, and nothing more. It’s always about how many times a person can spin on his head, how long a person can hold himself up on one arm or how high a person’s back flip is. However, it is much more than how it is portrayed in society. This is why a group of friends are working tirelessly to change the skewed perception and reveal the truth. Through their unnatural grace, their gifted rhytm and their natural talent, the members of Soulstice Crew are trying their best to make a difference.

Soulstice is a crew composed of 12 dancers from different walks of life. The line up includes students from prestigious schools such as Ateneo de Manila and University of the Philippines, and people who are already working in various jobs to make ends meet. When one see’s them perform, their surreal speed reminds one of the moving blades of an electric fan while their unnatural strength obviously mocks the laws of gravity. Through their musicality, the ability to imitate the rhythm and construction of music through movement, one is shown a masterpiece that is both stunning and inspiring. Furthermore, these people, although very different in personality, upbringing and education are all united by the goal to change the perception of society’s view of Breakdancing.

The members of Soulstice Crew believe that media has played a big role in distorting the true essence of Breakdancing. First and foremost, one of the biggest sins of the media towards this art is inventing its own title for it. The correct term for the dance that was coined by its creators in the Bronx in the 80’s is Bboying. “B”, standing for multiple things such as Bronx boy, Beat boy and Break boy. It was only much later that the media came up with the term Break dance, and unfortunately, that is the term that stuck in society. Second, media never correctly portrays Bboying to the public since we are only shown the highlights and all the glitz and glamour of the art without ever seeing the dance aspect of it. The musicality, rhythm and flow of Bboys, people who practice the art of Bboying, are never shown on television because they are deemed not as eye catching as all the spins and flips involved in the dance. The wrong image portrayed by the media is the reason why many people, especially practitioners of more contemporary dances such as Jazz and Ballet, do not see Bboying as a legitimate form of dance. Lastly, Bboys are directly abused by the media. For all the trouble they go through to perfect their craft, Bboys are not paid a fair amount for their talent. Media takes advantage of the fact that many Bboys are poor and uneducated which is why they do not know any better.

The members of Soulstice are doing their part as educated and aware members of the Bboy community of the Philippines to change these perceptions. Jolo Desiderio, a member that is currently taking up Industrial Engineering in UP Diliman believes that “Compared to other countries, Bboying here in the Philippines is relatively new. Because society has no knowledge of what it is [they don’t fully understand it], they either reject it or try to make money from it [try to sell it since it is visually dynamic]. It is hard for them to see it as a legitimate dance and something that has a deeper meaning than simply spinning on your head.” It is amazing to see how these mere students, are fighting the norms and going against what media has brainwashed us to believe. However, what is it that pushes them?

According to Steph Verano, a 4th year student of Ateneo De Manila, “I tried it out wanting to prove something to someone but eventually it became much more than that. It gives me an opportunity to get to know a self not completely separate from reality, but an extension of the reality I want, a more personal choosing of how to move within my limits as a person and as a woman.” For Jolo, Bboying “is something that separates me from the uninteresting way of living that I have now. It is my escape from my routine reality. In Bboying, there are no limits which gives you the ability to be free.” As you can see, Bboying is much more than what media portrays it to be for these people.

Soulstice Crew has a long journey and battle ahead of themselves. On top of representing the Philippine hip-hop community, and making moves to end media abuse towards performers, these people also have to face normal and everyday issues such as studies, work and love life. It is truly inspiring how these young people are able to act on their passion without losing sight of their studies and work. Soulstice Crew is a great example of what the Filipino youth should aspire to be. As it is written on the official crew shirt, everyone should make it a point to “Aim High”!

The Big Fight

He stood there like a king surveying his surroundings from a balcony. Like an eagle on the watch for the slightest movement of a prey. As I walked to him, I hesitated for a moment, scared that he might scold me and thought of how I would introduce myself. There's just something so intimidating about him. Maybe it's his height or aura of authority. But I've learned to gather some courage and come up to him. And so I asked, “Ikaw po ba si Kuya Big Boy? (Are you Big Boy?)”

His whole name is Leovigildo Debulgado, Jr and he is the Information and Security Coordinator of the Ateneo High School. Students, graduates and employees of the Ateneo High School, fondly call him “Big Boy”. He smiled as he was asked the story behind the name “Big Boy”. “When I was assigned here in the Ateneo High School, there was already a “Big Boy”. He's also tall, but since I'm taller, the students called me “Bigger Boy”. But the name was too long and eventually Big Boy retired, so I was called “Big Boy”. With his 6'2 height and wide frame, anyone could mistake him for a basketball player. He graduated from the FEATI University, with a degree in Engineering. “I studied Engineering for 10 years. I was a working student then and I got delayed since I was a stubborn kid.” He shared that he didn't give up and did not let his stubbornness stop him from finishing college. 3^rd among 4 children, his father was a government employee and his mother was a public school teacher.

Life was normal for him until in January 2, 2006, the doctors had found a tumor in his brain. This proved why he had a hard time speaking. “I didn't feel any pain”, he shared. “Well, except that I easily got tired especially in the afternoons.” He is very much grateful to the Ateneo for creating fund-raising projects. “Even those who were former students of the Ateneo High School who are now based abroad made fund-raising projects for me.” He bowed his head and showed his scar from the operation. It's shaped like a thunder, as if he had a crooked hairline. After he had his operation in September of last year, he changed his views on life, his lifestyle and habits. “I felt as if I shouldn't waste time on little things”, he shared. “Remember that I was on the brim of death, so I savored each and every moment.” Before he got sick, he felt that he could do anything he wanted. He felt that he was on top of the world. “The students were so scared at me because I used to curse at them. I even cursed the parents, can you believe that?”. He shared his bad habits. “I used to drink and smoke a lot”. He needed to put those habits to a stop for they decreased his chances of survival. “Life is something to be cherished. We are granted with only one life so we shouldn't take it for granted.”

This is his 21^st year working for the Ateneo High School and he's one of its most popular and long-time employees. “I really love it here. Maganda ang samahan dito. (This school has great camaraderie.) The students respect and love me. He recounts his funniest and most memorable experience in the high school. A former student asked him a question about the novel “El Filibusterismo” by Jose Rizal. “I gave him the wrong answer. But good thing he passed the exam.” He laughed.

He shared some interesting things that he students do at school. “During class hours, some of them come to me and tell me they have a school activity outside school and the APSA allowed them to leave. And so I let them leave. Eventually I found out that they were just making it up.” He stopped to think of another one then said, “The boys are just really rowdy. You can't imagine.” He laughed.

Asked about his goals for the school, he said that he hopes to be an example to the students. Like him, they should come to school early. “At dapat hindi sila susuko sa kahit anong gawain. (They shouldn't give up on any task.) If I gave up just like that, I won't be alive today.” He wants to help the principal of the Ateneo High School, Fr. Raymund Benedict Hizon, S.J., achieve his goals for the school which are improvement of facilities and improvement of education. “Before I retire, I want to do something for the school.” And what made him stay in the Ateneo this long? “I stayed because of the love and happiness I feel when I'm around the students. They should always remember that I scare or even scold them not because I want to, but because I care for them and I know it's for their own good.”

Through Big Boy's experience, we realize how important life is. It is a gift that we sometimes take for granted or we overlook. We think that there's always tomorrow, that's why we don't treasure the things we see, hear, feel, taste and smell today. We can also infer from his experience that we can find life and happiness in others. He found life in the people around him, hence, the students. He realized that he's happy when he's around the students, so he found his drive to live.

There may be moments in our lives when we are in pain and we want to give up. But actually, we shouldn't give up because there are things worth living for and there are good things we are yet to see. We just don't see them because we are too busy and we don't want slow down. Big Boy taught us to fight; to fight for something we believe that is extremely important and worth celebrating, and that is life.

092650, R17

090979 Tagaytay: Coupling Nature and Technology

I burst out of the car when we had arrived at the site, breathed in the cool crisp mountain air of Tagaytay and took in the scene of nature at its best, happy memories of my childhood flooded back into my brain. I cast a fleeting glance across the landscape and realized with a start that almost nothing had changed since my younger days. True, the trees had grown and its impossible that the leaves I had stepped on were the same ones from my youth, but the calm, serene and natural ambiance of past road trips and family vacations was still there. Once we were outside the stuffy car, my cousins, my sisters and I just stood there, drew out the reminiscences of blissful, carefree days when getting down, and dirty was never a problem; the time when our parents had brought us to the mountaintop to feel the cold wind biting into our faces.

A bright sunny day, the sun shone down on my back, a cool breeze blew against my face, whisked my hair into frenzy, and the thick fabric of my shirt was just enough to keep me warm against the cold. There, right in front of me was a terrain of momentous beauty, it just astounded me and made me yearn to capture it in its splendor, and yet I did not want to ruin the moment by taking out the camera. It was as if the panorama would just disappear once I opened my bag, instead, I stood there and took in the picturesque view. Trees of all shapes, sizes and varieties lined the soft earth, tall and healthy; each gave off a different resin aroma. Fallen twigs and leaves snapped and crunched as I strolled through the grass, cut to such a length that it just carpets the ground with its soft shoots. The smattering of picnic tables and pavilions, painted with earthy colors, scattered complemented the natural atmosphere. They blended and harmonized, rather than counteracted, the elements of nature. Moss and dust were seen almost everywhere in the internal décor of the gazebos and gave me the distinct memory of hiking and sleeping under the stars.

The newest attraction of the Tagaytay Picnic Grove, the cable cars and zip line, seemed to have hundreds of people milling around the vicinity more than ever. I looked up as a scream; whether of fright or happiness, I would never know, cut through the continuous hum of mirth and chatter. I looked up and saw a stranger flew past above me, screaming at the top of her lungs to a pitch and decibel that would probably have been unbearable if I had listened any longer. Another person, grinning all the way and shouting something like “Darnaaaaaaaa!” zoomed by on the harness. I had excitedly run up the steps to the ticket booth and had chosen to try the much operated doubles harness with my sister, who was a coward, which made the ride going to the other side all the more enjoyable. I watched the reactions of the other riders; some were smiling and laughing the whole way, while others screamed and dared not to look down, while still others were merely quiet and didn’t move, probably from fear of falling. I was one of those from the first category of reactions and loved every minute of it. The harnesses were red and black, made of sturdy cloth and reeked of old mothballs and detergent soap. The harness enabled the riders to choose between going by oneself or going with another, and whether the passenger prefers sitting down or lying on your stomach. I chose to lie on my stomach since I had already experienced the zip line while sitting down, and because I felt that the experience was better, where I had seen the real depth and height of the drop, all hundred fifty meters or so down, as I was flying above. The trees and plants all looked so miniscule and impossibly low on the ground as I zoomed by, ecstatically enjoying the air rushing past me and the wind on my jovial face. The personnel who operated the machines said that Mr. Manggilaw, owner and proprietor of the zip line and cable car idea, insisted that the harnesses be washed every night and the cables repaired and oiled every week, ensuring the utmost safety and protection of their patrons.

I cringed away from the strong wind that made my eyes water and my hair resembling something like a rat’s nest. I admit, I was nervous that something might happen to me and my family while we were up there. After all, we went really fast on a single cable with nothing but a cloth harness strapped to my upper body against the biting wind. However, the employees assured me that their main concern is just the possibility of heavy rain, when they had to stop all the activities for fear that something might happen to their riders. On the other hand, strong wind was not much of a problem, since it, according to one of the staff, “adds to the thrill”. The prices were not so atrociously expensive that I would not want to return either. They were just right for someone who would pay reasonable amounts for the right degree of family fun and excitement. On weekdays, the single journey costs one hundred pesos (Php 100) per person, while the two-way journey costs two hundred pesos (Php 200); while on weekends, one way would be two hundred pesos (Php 200) and two-way is three hundred pesos (Php 300) per person. Of course, there really is not a value for the bonding and exuberant experience of spending time with family and strengthening of ties. So if you are game for some clean wacky fun; try out the Tagaytay Zip line. There is nothing like the feeling of zooming past trees to make one feel like flying. Overall, it is an excellent place for those who love the outdoors and the silence of rural zones; although more often than a moment of silence is, laughter and delighted shrieks pierced the air.

093917 Inside PNP Custodial Center

I was accompanied by my dad to the PNP Custodial Service located in Camp Crame. It is where people with high profile crimes who are still in trial are held in custody. The place is surrounded by walls about 4 meters high. Outside is a gate guarded by military soldiers wearing camouflage uniforms. Inside these walls are barracks for soldiers. Deeper inside the PNP Custodial Service is the actual place where the people in trial stay. The place where they stayed is surrounded by more walls. These walls are higher. They are about 10 meters high. On top of the corners of the walls are guard houses. There is also a soldier equipped with what I believe is an M-16 rifle patrolling around the walls. Inside the walls about 1 meter away from the walls are fences with barbed wires on top.
When we entered these walls, I couldn’t help but feel afraid. I am not sure exactly why I felt scared. Perhaps it was because I just didn’t know what to expect. My dad never gave me a background of the PNP Custodial Service. He just told me that the people held in custody there were people of high profile crimes. It’s like I was blindfolded and taken to a rollercoaster. You just don’t know what will happen next. That’s why you are afraid despite knowing you will be safe.
When we got inside the walls inside the PNP Custodial Service, I was surprised. When we walked in, there were men wearing house clothes. They greeted the guard who opened the gate for us and the guard greeted them back. They stood up and greeted my dad. Much to my surprise, these men were the ones being guarded by the walls. They were the people being trialled for high profile crimes. There were cells inside but they were not inside their cells. However, somehow, I felt safe. They did not look at all like what I expected. They did not look dangerous at all. I expected the people to look like killers. I imagined in my head men with muscular bodies covered with tattoos and their faces covered with facial hair. This is what your brain does when you are not sure what you are about to face. It creates haunting images that cause anxiety.
They were hospitable. They asked us to sit down. They even served us coffee. As the person who made the coffee handed me the cup, I saw in his eyes not the eyes of a criminal but that of a noble person. That puzzled me.
My dad serves the government which was primarily the reason why I gained access to the PNP Custodial Service. It turned out that he knew these people. He was friends with one of them. My dad talked to his friend. While they talked, I had a chance to observe the place and the people.
There was a small canteen with plastic tables and chairs. There were machines for lifting weights. There was half a basketball court and on the wall, I noticed a short bond paper. Written on it are scores of previous basketball games. They had basketball teams: teams Blue, Black, Yellow, Red and White. Written below the scores of the winning teams are the remarks “Suwerte lang” which meant and below the losing teams “Malas lang” which meant “just lucky” and “just unlucky.” In my opinion, this suggested or this hinted that they respected each other. This suggested that they did not see themselves as superior to anyone inside. They were not worthless criminals who knew nothing to do but trouble. There was a sense of peace and friendship. I could see it in the way they conversed with each other.
For some reason, I could not help but feel humbled. These were not normal people and I am not saying this because I know they are being trialled for high profile crimes. I could see that there was fire in their eyes. Not from anger. I wondered “What the hell are they in here for?” I overheard my dad’s conversation with his friend. They were talking about government matters. I could not pinpoint what exactly what they were talking about. Then I noticed on the wall in front of me a tarpaulin and written on it is the Samahang Magdalo Code of Conduct. I was beginning to have an idea of what they are. Later, my dad told me that the people there were officers who went against the government. The friend he was talking to was a 1 Star General who went against President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo.
I observed this person as he talked to my dad. He looked like he was in his 50’s. He looked like he had Chinese blood. What was striking about him however was that while he talked to my dad, he did not look like a broken person. And I began to notice the same with all the people inside. They looked like they still had their pride and their chins up high. Being trialled and confined in the PNP Custodial Service did not seem to crush their spirits.
All of them had this humbling aura of noble people. They had tremendous respect with each other and the guards respected them too. The guard with the M16 rifle did not seem to be guarding them with a close eye. It seemed he was only there just because it was part of the process for the people still in trial. It’s such a shame that these people are locked inside instead of doing service for our country. It’s such a waste.
Entering the PNP Custodial Service turned out to be more than what I expected. I was humbled and I felt like the subject I am touching on is way beyond me. I saw officers who stood up for what they believed not big time killers like I expected at first. They were people who had dreams of a better country, a better people and a better nation, my dad told me. In my opinion, these are noble people and it is just sad that they might be in jail after their trial. They stood up for what they think is right for the country. For me, that is heroic. For me, that is the meaning of nationalism.
As we exited the PNP Custodial Service, my dad told me, “That man was a great officer. He was very idealistic. However, idealism is far different from realism.” I realized he was right. I do believe that there are a lot of people who have dreams of a better country and know what’s right and wrong. However, that dream of a better country simply could not be achieved. I don’t know why. All the more I felt the subject I’m touching in is way beyond me. However, I do believe that whatever the reason why that dream of a better country could not be reached, it is still worth fighting for and that these men in custody deserve better.

090575

Into the Poem

Surrounded by the damp, smoggy evening air of Katipunan Avenue, Joel Toledo sat on the porch, around his friends holding cigarettes with thumbs and index fingers and signing autographs. In fact, he was quite unremarkable save for the few eagerly awaiting figures clutching thin blue books and pens, and the two Palanca Awards under his belt. He wore jeans, a green polo and glasses. He had a Baller band on his right wrist and wrote signatures and thank-you-notes with his left hand. His poetry was going to be read, but he said “that’s still later at 9.” He continued writing signatures, taking his time thanking the new found fan and listening to congratulatory small talk.

It was the 57^th Happy Mondays Poetry Night, Toledo released his new volume of 59 poems “The Long Lost Startle,” with pieces that won for him the 2006 Bridport Prize and the 2006 Meritage Press Prize. It was a night-long book signing and poetry reading event in celebration of his newly published paperback by the University of the Philippines Press at the mag:net Café, Gallery, Bar and Resto in Katipunan Avenue, venue of many a local artistic event.

Inside, the first floor proved its ‘Gallery’ title not just for show. On the plain white walls hung paintings idle passers-by noted as “pretty awesome,” all of which were on sale for various prices. They were a striking mix of gothic chic and modernist weirdness, along with every conceivable style, graffiti, pop culture, post-impressionism, cubism and abstractionism to name a few. All closely akin to the wall imagery in the upstairs bathroom; blue and yellow heavenly streaks of light coming from a man with a turban and a crystal ball, floating two hands-width above the toilet.

The other upstairs pieces were no different, a macabre Mickey Mouse photo and a sexually suggestive picture of a woman with “4 holes,” number 1 being a clear-cut hole on her thigh. They were all illuminated by yellow bulbs on the ceiling of the long, narrow room. Despite the size, the room does not suggest crowdedness. New age homey was the phrase, new age like the wasabi onion rings or Pinakbet pizza on their menu and homey like the food’s nostalgic aftertaste of forced vegetable consumption.

Right beside the stage was a table filled with merry old men holding beer bottles and spoonfuls of Sisig. From there stood a man wearing a just as casual get-up as the star of the night. Kris Lacaba, the evening’s host, gave a very warm and short introduction to Toledo, a fellow poet of his, and all the other special guest readers for tonight which he called the bigatin ng poetry (poetry greats), an impressive affair where all the great literary minds of the Philippines converged. He called upon Gemino Abad, who incidentally wrote the book’s introduction and is currently the director of the U.P. institute of Creative Writing, to the stage and recipient of a long list of awards and fellowships, who read ‘Softness’ from “The Long Lost Startle.” During which, Toledo entered the room silently and sat beside his wife and daughter of no more than ten, who came too in support of her father deep into a school night. “Now my father sits…” read Abad.

Among the other readers, too was Alfred ‘Krip’ Yuson, the world famous postmodernist Filipino writer with a “fanatic abhorrence for ordinary language” and a matured, gruff voice, read an apropos ‘Drunk Leaning Into the Poem,’ where he urged the audience to toast to the lines ‘get up, drink up.” He was one of the sagely old men drinking beers near the stage and laughing about retold stories of the past. He wore jeans and a blue soccer Zidane shirt for the event, and opened with something of an inside joke that made the nearby seated parties laugh. Patrick Rosal too, Global Filipino Literacy Awardee amongst others, also read from Toledo’s new book. Renowned film director Khavn de la Cruz, prolific translator Marne Kilates, TV personality Wincy Ong, all greats in their field, all reading poetry for a tightly packed room of no more than two dozen people sans waiters and staff, and all close friends of the artist who penned the words; from page to stage.

The entire evocative foray and celebration of the arts was postponed for an hour in Filipino fashion, spilled into the morning, and ended with musical performances by Ang Bandang Shirley, Goliath and Los Chupacabraz. “The Long Lost Startle, I believe, will be a considered a major work in Philippine Poetry” – Eric Gamalinda, and that two dozen blessed shall remember its humble beginnings.

Drunk Leaning Into the Poem

There is so much potential here. A steady rain

spoiling the backdrop, a spinning cliche.

Nothing seems more perfect than the hours spent

deciphering the cruel forms, the sturdy structures.

Nothing feels more poetic. Nick Joaquin, gone.

Franz tripping on his way to the Writing Center.

NVM going postmodern. The dead rise up to reclaim

their spaces in the tradition

Where are we, then, ensconced in the quiet evening,

safe from the rain? The critics lurk 'round the bend,

toasting the departure(d). And literature grows complex

like the gnarled branches of some local tree

I daresay, what has the heart to say in all this?

Some higher power must charge the words,

lead the blind to occasional vision. I see you: I hear

the straining voices of the dead, the rain growing older

moment by moment, sprawled miserably now,

hugging the streets like some bum or national artist.

Get up, drink up. There is no end to this weather,

no end to this talk.

Joel M. Toledo


Krip Yuzon

091754 Life Celebrant

Gerard Sison has a job like no other. It’s a hosting job that requires him to stand in front of an audience, introduce the different speakers, and make sure that the program goes smoothly. But he is not your average host. He is a funeral celebrant; the only certified one in the country by the Worsham College of Mortuary Science in the United States. Where death seems to cast a sad pall on just about everyone, Gerard reaffirms life – the traces of one’s life in the hearts and minds of those left behind.

An alumnus of the Ateneo with a Bachelor of Science degree in Management, Sison is an articulate and eloquent speaker. All throughout the interview, he was candid and very relaxed; gently gesturing as he speaks about the highs and lows of working in the “dying” business. His background in theatre enables him to work comfortably with audiences. He started singing at weddings as a sideline until finally realizing that he does better as a funeral singer.

“Not everyone can sing in funerals. You cannot sing boisterously. You have to touch their soul.” says Sison before he burst into a sample of his singing. True enough his cool and harmonic voice puts his audience into a serene state—where for a moment or so, calmness prevails. Eventually he ventured into hosting or becoming a funeral celebrant, with the encouragement of Raffy Jose, the owner of Arlington Memorial.

He went for special training in the US where he attended ten fake funerals, one after the other. Participants were assigned to stage a mock program under realistic conditions that by the time the last fake funeral was performed, all of the participants were trying to hold back their tears. “I realized that a funeral was very intense, very personal. Experiencing the ten fake funerals yourself is something that you can’t quantify with just words or pictures. You have to be present to be in the moment.”

As a funeral celebrant, Sison is in charge of the whole program. “I get the final say when the casket should be closed or when the ceremony will end. I speak on behalf of the family because at that moment I become a member of their family.” He also does eulogies for the departed but unlike the usual extemporaneous remarks that one hears on such occasions, Sison takes special effort to make his different.

“I make it personal for the bereaved. People often neglect to put their thoughts in writing. Normally, a member of the family just goes in front to deliver a eulogy and it’s usually from that person’s point of view. Ours on the other hand, is well researched and well rounded,” he said. His presence is also a big help for some families who are not expressive and who don’t know how to express their grief. He stressed that, “Our emphasis (at Arlington) is to make the funeral and the wake all about the deceased.”

To date Sison has celebrated thousands of wakes and funerals. Each on their own is a totally different experience. There are some funny ones, some sad ones, and some hysterical ones. “There are some families who are ready to say goodbye because their loved one has been sick for quite sometime. However there are also families who still get shocked over the death of their ninety year old Grandfather. What I hate the most is when people want to stop the family members from getting hysterical. It is raw emotion and who am I to deprive that person the right to express his/her grief?” he mentioned. “I help bring out the emotion. That’s the point of the whole thing, if you have anguish or sorrow, the funeral is the time to let it all out rather than afterward,” he said.

One thing that strikes one when talking to Sison was how expressive his voice is and that it conveys a message of compassion to others; not just to those bereaved, not just to the hurting, but to all his listeners in general, me included. He had a way of making one feel that he is there for them, as they brave the uncertainties that lie ahead. He has become popular in his field, having hosted some of the high-profile funerals of the country such as that of Pete Roa, Dona Mary Ejercito, and the most recent being Trina Etong, the deceased wife of broadcaster Ted Failon. “Pete’s memorial was an interesting one because the mood was light and festive; people were singing songs for him instead of crying over his passing,” he added.

When asked about the most fulfilling part of his job, Sison simply said “Without meaning to, I stumbled in a job that offers generous help to people. That helps bring a soul closer to God, if not to Heaven itself. You really feel it, that a soul is at peace. And knowing that I was a part of it is just the best feeling of all.”

Pain and loss is universal to everyone but the likes of Sison is there to remind us all that we should dwell on how a person had lived and not his passing-- that we should celebrate life even in death.

093827 (feature article)

Faith: Another chance

He laid there—motionless but breathing. His fragile hands clutched each other. His eyes were closed. A glimmer of light dripped from his left eye. Above him was the carved wooden cross of Jesus Christ. There was an air of solemnity in the cold room. Then he spoke —“good health shouldn’t be taken for granted, and I thank the Lord for giving me another chance to live”. The tall and slender Moreno Tuguinay just had his second angioplasty, a technique of mechanically widening a narrowed or obstructed blood vessel.

Moreno is a 65-year old retired Episcopalian priest and a long-time heart patient survivor. He had his coronary bypass surgery in 1996 and his first angioplasty in 2005 at St. Luke’s Medical Center. This recent one was conducted in Philippine Heart Center. Dr. Lam Sun Lao, his cardiologist since the 1990’s, headed the surgery and the two angioplasties.

Admittance

Monday. At 3 o’clock in the afternoon, Moreno was admitted in room 438 at the Philippine Heart Center. There he was—serenely lounged on the cozy bed, eyes closed. He was in a semi-private room. A thick partition on the side divided his bed from the others. Julie, his wife, and Winnie, his niece, were with him. When I entered, I thought I was in the wrong room. The flowery scent, the bible on the table, the faint yellow light and the image of the Lord on the wall gave the room a somber atmosphere.

Dr. Lao came in with papers and a rectangular suitcase in his hands. He showed Moreno the papers, let him sign, and advised him not to eat or drink anything after midnight.
As I was talking to Moreno, he often gave me that tender look, although traces of anxiety and anxiousness were etched vividly on his face. He responded with a calm voice, although he admitted that he felt terrified and apprehensive. “This is one of the hardest decisions in my life because it involves my family, life, and finance. But even so, I’m still fighting, and it takes a lot of faith, courage and will to do so.”

And then he gazed up, held both of his hands, smiled, and closed his eyes. The room went silent again.

The angioplasty

Tuesday―it was the day of the angioplasty procedure. It was 6:50 in the morning when Dr. Lao and a specialized group of medical doctors and nurses entered the room in their white and green suites. They all welcomed the day with a prayer. They gathered around, surrounded Moreno, joined hands and bowed their heads. The room went silent as Julie said a sincere prayer. Everybody surrendered to the Lord at that moment. It was a sublime scene.

Moreno was afterwards brought to the room for the angiogram, a medical imaging technique used to visualize the inside of blood vessels―arteries, veins and the heart chambers. He laid there…eyes closed, as if still praying—but already anesthetized. They captured an x-ray image of his arteries, which showed that two arteries were blocked.

And so the angioplasty procedure began immediately.

Outside the room, Julie and Winnie sat in silence―apprehensive but confident in the Lord. It was a long and tedious 90 minutes.

By 8:30, Moreno was already out and was brought to the Coronary Care Unit or CCU.


Post-angioplasty

When Moreno was in the CCU, he was showing good signs of improvement. He was pampered with utmost care by the nurses and doctors, like a child seeking for comfort. Nurses, various doctors, and his cardiologist would go in and out of the room to check his condition from time to time. Julie would sit and take care of his needs, while Winnie would organize the papers and arrange the jumbled medicines. A nurse would come in during breakfast, lunch and dinner to bring his sumptuous and healthy meal of fresh fruits, hot broth, simmered vegetables, and nutritious rice. Moreno would gladly eat his meal.

After 24 hours at the CCU, he was brought back to room 438 where he was confined for three days. He was coping well at first, but later on, he was experiencing chest pains and heart palpitations. His cardiologist immediately went to the room, brought out his equipment, and expertly conducted examinations. He later on brought out his pen and scribbled something on paper―medicinal prescriptions.

After taking the prescribed medicines, Moreno gave a huge sigh of relief.

Reflections and a good end

With the success of the angioplasty, everyone rejoiced! However, the dilemma came when the bill was presented―an overflowing P430, 000! However on that same day, Moreno’s son, Kelly, who works in Massachusetts, called and agreed to contribute $4000! More blessings came later that week when relatives and friends began calling and visiting―offering some financial assistance. P158, 000 in total! Indeed, good things come to those who have faith!

“I am so relieved now that the angioplasty is over and many people are willing to help.” This was Julie’s reaction after the angioplasty. “This second angioplasty made me reflect on the temporary things we have in life. Now, we are more focused with much ease,” she added.

Winnie said with a hopeful smile, “I am glad that uncle is already fine. If he takes good care of his health from now on, he would benefit from it a lot.”

After 5 days in the hospital, Moreno was discharged―ready to start a new life with renewed faith and better perspective about life and health. His old but jolly face was back. Those traces of anxiety and doubt on his face days before were already gone.

The Sunday after the angioplasty, I saw them in Cathedral Heights, Quezon City. “Back then, I felt scared about everything, but again, prayer proved to be the best antidote to a heart disease,” Moreno said.

Then they departed to the church where the Almighty One was waiting.

092626 The Boy is (Up to No) Good

Ever heard of DJ Sam YG? Yes, he is Magic 89.9's jock who completes the crazy trio of the popular radio program the Boys Night Out or BNO which airs Mondays to Thursdays, from 6 until 10 in the evening. Ever since its conception around three years ago, BNO has been the talk of the town as this program is filled with lots of talks on the birds and the bees, flawlessly delivered (and usually green) jokes, tasteful playlist of pop and party songs, and not to mention the spur-of-the-moment kind of humor and charisma of DJ Sam YG and his fellow troublemakers, este, DJs Slick Rick and TonyToni. The show garnered positive reviews especially from its young listeners but also got a share of bad commentaries from its more conservative listeners. All the same, there is no stopping Sam as well as the two other DJs from conquering the Philippine airwaves.

"I'm happy with my job right now," says Sam. Who wouldn't love a job where you could get a lot of perks, meet a lot of people, and be sort of a celebrity? He gets lots of freebies, from clothing to food to vacation trips. He gets to meet a lot of people, from celebrities like Rihanna to ordinary people, not to mention the chikas (girls or chicks, in BNO terminology) like magazine cover girls and starlets.

But when asked if there is one thing he hates about his job, Sam says, "(it's) being misunderstood." As one of the masterminds of the controversial, closely guarded show by the Kapisanan ng mga Brodkaster ng Pilipinas (Association of Broadcasters of the Philippines), Sam is usually perceived as a ladies' man, a maniac, and a party animal. In short, people see him as good for nothing. Sam's image in radio which makes the show interesting comes with a price to pay. "People think that we (DJs) are really maniacs, playboys...that we just talk and talk and make bola (flatter)...people forget that we're real people," he says. People are constricted to the nature of the show that they couldn't separate DJ Sam YG from just plain Sam. They don't know that there's more to this 25-year old than just being the charming Indian dude who seems to live up to a famous BNO tagline, "The boys are up to no good."

No one would really expect this guy who talks about sex and all sorts of foolishness on air to actually have had an education. But Sam YG, Sam Gogna in real life, graduated from the Ateneo where he took up Legal Management. Believe it or not, he was (and still is) planning to be a lawyer. He even took a corporate job right after college before finally deciding to be a full-time DJ and host. "It's not that I am not interested in law anymore but I just love what I'm doing right now," says Sam who started his radio stint in his junior year in college. This self-confessed nerd in fact has brains and substance.

Despite his charm and playboy image that exude most especially when he asks BNO's female guests and callers, "Are you single and ready to mingle?" (saying this as if having interest in the girl), Sam actually hasn't dated anyone for the longest time. He couldn't care less to get in a relationship or even check girls out that come his way for he is too busy and very much focused on his career. Aside from his regular DJ stint, he hosts two shows in MTV channel, Hanging with the Boys and Man and Machine. Sam could also be spotted anywhere around the metro in his hosting gigs. From proms to concerts to weddings, he got them all covered.

Too busy for love, Sam jokes, "I date my mom instead." True enough, he really does date his mom more often than go out with girls as he confesses that he's a mama's boy. Sam is even very vocal about his love and appreciation for his mom that he even said one time on air, "My mom's happiness is my happiness."

This naturally funny guy could actually be serious if he wants to particularly when it comes to his job. "Our show seems spontaneous, but I really prepare for it," says Sam who adds that he prepares for his show for at least three hours and even does research to come up with new ideas that will spice up BNO.

Sam's bad boy image, in-your-face kind of wit and intimidating looks matched with his usual get-up of branded shirts and flashy, top of the line Adidas sneakers give the impression that he's boastful and arrogant. Apparently, these impressions don't last long once people get to know him better for he is really a nice guy. Sam never ignores his fans unlike other proud media personalities. Whenever someone approaches him and asks for a picture with him, he gladly accepts the request and flashes a smile while gesturing the Boys' famous number three-like money hand sign. Sam even jokes around his fans and invites them to drop by Magic 89.9's station during the Boys Night Out timeslot.

Despite his rising popularity, growing fan base and thriving career, Sam still keeps his feet grounded and remains approachable. He does not choose who to talk to, whether it's Chris Brown he's interviewing or security guards and waiters he's greeting back. He makes it a point to actually greet the people on air who requested him to have them greeted. Sam also says that the perks aren't the things that he loves best about being a DJ. "It's all about making people happy...touching people's lives that make me happy," he says

BNO's mischievous nature goes hand in hand with Sam's radio jock image. However, Sam argues, "It (the show) doesn't have to reflect my values." His job as a DJ of a program like BNO requires him to put up an image that doesn't necessarily make up his entirety or even represent who he is in real life. DJ Sam YG on air is different from plain Sam off air. He is naturally funny and can sometimes be green-minded just like any other guy but it's not like he's a maniac or he's really up to no good. Underneath the up to no good impression is a boy who is actually good. So to the ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages, for the millions and millions listening who have a twisted idea of Sam and who despise him, "Don't hate. Appreciate," as the Boys would always say.

093884 Futsal - I love this game!

It was haft past three when I arrived at the court. It was a cloudless day so you got hit by the glare of the sun regardless of your position in the court. People were all over the place not realizing that in hour or so a match would take place on court #1 of the Ateneo de Manila University covered courts. The match would be a futsal match between the ASEC futsal team and a team composed of Vietnamese exchange students and some of their Filipino friends.

The futsal game I’m talking about is hosted by the IAC of the school and is an annual intramural competition between various teams in the school. The ASEC squad is the reigning champion and I was lucky enough to be able to play with a team of such skilled people. For those of you who don’t have any idea futsal is a five-a-side indoor football/soccer game that was developed about a hundred years ago. Futsal is the alternative game for football fanatics who want to play the game that they like anywhere and anytime.

As the players and spectators began to slowly enter the court I could not help but notice that today’s game would not be a walk in a park. My team was fresh from a 8-4 victory but the team that we were facing now looked like they were veterans and knew what they were doing. We could not afford complacency nor must we get too overconfident because we might be defeated. Little did I know that we were in for something really challenging.

The time came for the players to warm-up. I began my warming-up by stretching my muscles and getting my mind into game mode. Next I practiced my spot kicking and one-two passing. Two of the most important aspects you must have in this game are accuracy and quickness especially when it came to free kicks, passing, and shooting. In futsal, as in any other game practice makes perfect and I was not just about to take it for granted by just standing idly near the court and doing nothing productive.

4:30 p.m.: GAME TIME! I was sweating already even though the game was just starting. Playing as a right winger I had to play both offense and defense, luckily the court wasn’t that big and all I had to do when we lost ball possession was run as fast as I could back to my designated area. The game started out a bit tough for me since I was still getting the jitter coming from playing against players who were much much more experienced than me, after playing for about 3 minutes I was substituted off the game in order to reassess our opponents and work a way of somehow overcoming them.

Throughout the next 3 to 4 minutes or so our team conceded 2 goals and scored none, it was like hell seeing your team getting beaten up yet knowing that you can’t do anything about it. With about 11 minutes still to play, meaning 9 minutes have gone by in the first half, I came back into the game and decided to switch to a sweeper/stopper position, which is basically the primary defensive position in a team, in order to get some of the load off the other team members so that they can be free to attack. Our most skilled teammate, trusting that I had the back covered, began an all out assault against our opponent. We were down 2-0 but we knew that we can still make it and win this game. A spectacular play by one my teammates resulted into a beautiful goal on the other end, and we pulled back one to place the score to 2-1. Although we managed to pull 1 back they were able to respond and after a series of awesome plays from both ends the 1^st half ended with our team trailing 4-1, a very bleak score line indeed!

The second half began with my team realizing that if we don’t get our act together and start to perform as a team we could end up in defeat. I started the half by sitting it out since I played a lot of minutes in the first half.

Finally getting into the game at 8 minutes left and a score of 5-2 against our team, I decided to play a little bit of playmaker/sweeper so that our team could at least tie or even pull back some points. I did a particularly superb play, at least that’s what I think about it, when the opposing team gave up a free kick. I took the indirect free kick and by aiming a well placed lob pass towards one of my teammates he was able to score with such brilliance that it could have taken your breath away had you seen it. I then decided to initiate a series of plays aimed at targeting our opponents’ weakness, which was their inability to come back fast enough after the attack thus making them vulnerable to counter-attacking.

With 4 minutes left in the game and a 5-3 score line that was definitely against us we were entering desperation time! But instead of creating highlight plays we committed a lot of errors which in turn sealed our faith and gifted our opponents with another score.

Our teams last act of showing that we have not totally giving up was a spectacular play that was started with my defensive stop; I quickly passed saw an opportunity for a counter attack and immediately passed to the right wing.

What happened next was absolutely superb! A cross from the right wing accurately placed the ball into the tenacious feet of our forward and he shot the ball, in a way that all goal keepers found hard to defend against, hard and low into the bottom corner. The play was beautiful but the ugly truth of it all was that we were down 2 goals with the score at the final whistle at 6-4. We fought valiantly but in the end it was our errors and lack of more players that contributed to our defeat. We were saddened yet we assured ourselves that we could bounce back from this. It was, after all, our first defeat and all we had to do was absorb it and just play better in our next games.

While cooling off in the shower rooms a quote famously said by Michael Caine in the movie “Batman Begins” and it goes like this; “Why do we fall Master Bruce? We fall in order to learn how to pick ourselves up”. This quote would surely propel me through my next game and hopefully I would help my team win it this time.

Getting up after removing my shin guards I said to myself : "Its okay, win or lose I still love this game!"

094374

094374
AB Interdisciplinary Studies

Helping, Living and Teaching Simply


Times have definitely changed. Money is much more needed these days. Not only will money help oneself, but for many of us, also help our family back in the province. This is especially true for many househelps. One of their main purposes in coming to Manila is to help support parents and siblings in their province.
However, Myla Perez, our yaya and tutor for more than 10 years, has a slightly different story to tell.
As I interview her inside her room, Myla exudes contentment in telling her life story. She is now 39 years old, married for about 5 years now. She hails from Negros Occidental, Visayas, the fifth child from a family of fourteen. However, she is not your typical househelp. Myla is a college graduate, a graduate of Education. She is a teacher.
Despite her college education, she found it hard to get a job in the province. Wanting to contribute and pay back her parents, she set out for Manila. She stayed with her sister, who was our former yaya but was now married and living just near us. When we needed help for my brother’s christening party, our former yaya and Myla Perez, agreed to help. Myla never left us since then.
She found fulfillment in tutoring me throughout my grade school and high school years, helping with school activities and projects. She is now doing the same for my younger sister and brother. While she was not able to “formally” become the teacher she set out to be, she is our family’s teacher and so much more. For her, the fulfillment is the same - she got to teach, she made test questions, graded them helped in school activities, projects, etc. On top of it all, she found a second family, in addition to her real family. She belonged to a family and even if her real family is so far away, she never felt alone.
One day a couple of years ago, she found a cyst in her ovary that kept growing bigger. She was so afraid of the growing cyst and she worried that she does not have any money for the operation because she sends all her money to her parents in the province. Luckily, my parents offered to pay for all her expenses. She is now fine and so grateful to us.
She still keeps on sending financial support to her parents and siblings back in Negros. She helped send her younger sisters and brothers to school. While she receives much more than a typical househelp, she knows that it is not enough to support her parents and siblings and start a family of her own. Yet, she does not complain. She knows the financial situation of our family and understands.
Her only frustration at this point in her life is that she is not yet blessed with her own children. She nonetheless feels blessed to have me, my sister and especially my brother, who she helped raise from birth, as her adopted “children”. In a way, she has her own family that she is helping bring up.

She said that, from time to time, she still feels some disappointment that she did not become the kind of teacher she “studied” to be, she said she has no regrets because she became the teacher she always “wanted to be.” And much more. She helps, lives and teaches simply. We, in turn, learned a lot. We are her second family. She is also our family. Forever.

Gargoyle in the Boughs 091344

I have never been one to be sentimental, indeed, my closer friends often say it is very difficult and near impossible to excite me for too long, much less keep me interested in the forgotten memories of the past. All that, I’d say, was true. Alone after paying my fare, I walked up to the arch gate that separated our world from that of the dead. We often associate the graveyards to only a few emotions: sentiment, dread, and misery. The Chinese Cemetery was no different, its paint cracked and the roads worn by the many feet that had gone by since it had been made. Who wanted to maintain a necropolis?
Entering it had me pass under an arch, the cracked letters there welcoming you into the abode of the departed. I walked the street, shadows playing by my feet as the thickening clouds blotted the sun. The night spooked people because they could not see; the day spooks people for the exact opposite reason. Gazing left, the ground dipped away into a form of crevice that stopped only at a low wall. Grass swayed with the wind whispering down the morose path one would have to leave to get there. Weeds and tree roots made a labyrinth of the memorial grounds, making it difficult for even I, who made a sport of hiking. A light drizzle matted my hair as the rains began to fall and my footsteps were the squelching of moistened earth.
Coffins here were not even six feet underground.
The poor were laid to rest out in the cleft so that a family need only pay for one patch of ground. Aluminum girders supported three to four caskets placed one on top of another. Weeds grew in masses, the dampened greens hugging those same pipes in a death’s grip from the soft earth like the hands of the dead groping for their sons and daughters above the dirt boundary. There was little to protect the caskets, I noticed. The fiber glass containers, already muddied by the weather throughout their stay had assailed it in its long history. Some were visibly webbed with cracks and my fingers traced one long gash to find that water could and did seep in. The patter of the drizzle continued to fall, each droplet pinging loudly off the hollow containers, the glittering beads like sweat perspiring for the sake of the body kept within. One glared right out at me, two larger drops of water glimmering like the eyes of the long dead.
Leaving the coffins, I fled the weather. Though the sun still bore down on me, so did the rain, unhealthy for even the cremated dead I visited next. Pebble stone steps, much of the original design were craters instead of stones, led one up to the lonely hexagonal building. Each in their separate urns, they were placed in the temples side by side. With the paint within the structure bloated and blistered as badly as it’s outside and with the bared cement showing cracks deep enough to insert my thumb in, I’d decided that it wasn’t too much of a difference from those dead in the crevice. Melted wax frozen in mid-drip hang from the sixth or seventh row beyond even my reach with evidence of scratches on those lower one sections where even a child could touch, candle scavengers scraped off those burnt and melted candles. White stone entombed those ashes in the doubtful safety of their small compartmental sections while the epitaphs grew steadily less and less legible. There was the gray of exposed cement webbed intricately with cracks worn and dulled by generations-worth of time, the blue-to-green paint coming off the walls as though being flayed, and of course the gold that looked like flakes ready to come off with their falsehoods. To the side, one would notice a poorly garbed man, a scavenger or a watchman. Sometimes they were just one man. It didn’t help to have company in these parts. Alone, I stalked the hexagonal structure, one would be surrounded by the singular uniqueness of each block with gates protecting some while text blurred resembled the dried, clotted blood seeping out into reality as if the ashes were still trying to say something.
For the more fortunate, the veritable necropolis awaited. From the streets, the first of the small houses could be seen. Within them lay the slumbering dead tiled or sealed away with granite laden slabs like tombs of old. Some were held in darkened structures, old candles leaning perilously close to falling over, held by the very will of the dead. Some were held in the open, gray stone resembling an altar built beside these mausoleums and trees. Between these houses, I was again exposed to the weather. Gnarled, ancient trees stood vigil, their yellowing canopies providing shelter from the sun already hidden behind storm clouds, or if one were unluckily beside the road, only a small shrub would accompany the stone relief. As I walked the path between stone houses, the trees offered only fat insects and rain. Often, people would eat and feast in those stone homes as though eating with the dead but there were always ants and larger insects. Not close to the days of the dead in the calendar, those few visitors more often than not left the dead in their own wet misery like dogs left in their own excrement.
It was a bleak but common journey through the lands of the departed, the graves testament to human sensitivity for the past. Feet splashing as the uneven ground made for more puddles; I turned to look at the cursed tree that had made such a deep rent in the earth, thick roots retaking the land rightfully belonging to nature. Cement slabs were thrown facing upwards by the intrusion, but that damage was too far severe. A gaping hole met my eye as I passed the small yard of the dead to return to the street. Growing out of an emptied grave was a single sapling, a massive gnarled root boring right in through the grave. I bit my lip then.
I knew the grave in the next section of these parts. I was there once every year. Never had I yet noticed it. Maybe someone who knew the person whose remains fed the sapling, feeding off the last vestiges of memory, had forgotten. One look within told me it was too late. One look inside and I turned around and headed back down towards the entrance. The patter of the slight drizzle continued to fall.
I can’t help it. Having seen the emptied grave, there was no turning back. There was a saying especially in Chinese that if one photographed a grave, that person brought its spirit back home with him/her. I usually didn’t give it the benefit of the doubt, but that broken tomb made me turn to a more forgiving means of capturing that memory. I left the place of the dead with my mobile in hand, the first rhymes to the poem flowing from my mind.
The patter of the rain smoothly became like the padding of feet behind me.


No one was there.

Ocean Park, the Venue for Bayani Fernando's Birthday Celebration

093501

It was the first time I had been to Manila Ocean Park, and I never thought it would be for such an event. What first came to mind when I heard that we would be attending Mr. Bayani Fernando’s birthday celebration at Manila Ocean Park was that it didn’t seem like it was the best place to hold an event of this type.

Arriving at the venue, the sun was just setting over the horizon of manila bay, giving its last beam of light as if it was sinking into the bay. For those who have been to Manila Ocean Park, the entrance actually felt grand. The large fountain before the long and wide staircase, leads into an illustrious courtyard that directs you to the entrance is the reason for this effect. It really was not what I was expecting from this venue because from visiting the Ocean Park in Hong Kong, I pretty much expected the same from the one here. Upon entering the doors to the park, there was a tedious security inspection for the protection of the MMDA Chairman. When I finally got through the metal detector and security guards that feel for any concealed weapons, there were many tables for the guests to register their attendance. I was surprised at how many people were present at the celebration, as I was not expecting that many people to be attending the event. After registering my name, we were given name tags to identify if you are really a guest and it was also used later on in the buffet dinner. Following this, we had the chance to have picture taken with Mr. Bayani Fernando. It had been my first time to meet him in person, but not for my Mom because they were classmates during her college days. After the picture taking, we now went on to have a tour of the park.

The park was not the way I had imagined it to be. It was a lot bigger and actually very comfortable to be in. There was a large amphitheater where 3 bands would later play in the evening. The theatre was bigger than I thought the park could contain. An airplane probably would easily be able to go in, turn around and come back out without any problem. The tour was interesting because they made the setting as if you were in a rainforest. The vines hanging from the ceiling, the live plants and climate really supported this effect. As soon as I entered the first room, I could recognize that pungent smell of fish. It reminded me of the days when I was young and would smell fish being cooked in the kitchen and being forced to eat it. That is why I have never been fond of fish, I did not think of them being such special creatures. In my opinion, they should be left undisturbed in the ocean instead of on a plate. I personally did not think I would enjoy seeing different types of fish up close because of this, but I ended up being mesmerized with what I saw. I was amazed with the magnitude of some of these sea creatures, and all the shapes and colors they come in. There were some that were as small as your little toe’s nail, and there were some that are as long as I am tall. I have never seen such creatures up close and all these amazing features of the fishes kept me interested all throughout the tour. Which started out with fresh water fish and eventually progressed into salt water. What was interesting about the tour was that they put types of fish that are not really common. From giant crabs, to tiny flashlight fish that would give off a tiny light in the dark; this kept the tour very interesting.

After the tour, we were all lead into the restaurant of the park. The restaurant reminded me very much of the types of restaurants in hotels, such as Circles and Spirals. Although not as high end, its buffet had just as much choices. The main difference was that it was all Asian inspired foods. The smell of food reminded me of the time I walked down a food market in Hong Kong. I could easily recognize the type of food they were serving. It ranged from Singaporean Chicken, to Thai and to Chinese. The choices were too many to be able to remember.
During the meal, people slowly kept pouring in through the doors and eventually the place was packed. The sounds of murmurs started to get stronger, just like the sound of a car accelerating. Later, I could see famous people join the dinner as well. Vice-President Noli de Castro arrived later and also Mrs. Imelda Marcos. I have never seen them in person, and it was a delight to me.

At end of the whole evening, I realized that my initial reaction about the venue was wrong and that it was actually a very interesting place to hold an event like this. Mr. Bayani Fernando really thought of a new way to celebrate a birthday. This venue for his birthday truly made the experience of the guests an experience they would never forget.

Going Beyond Bringing Home the Bacon

091489

In yet another of his math training sessions in Legarda, Manila for an upcoming international contest in China, I visited my younger brother, Jason, who wore a green shirt with the statement “Without Geometry Life would be pointless”, jeans and a pair of Crocs. At first glance, he looks like just another math geek, but definitely this genius is more than what meets the eye.

“He’s had this thing for math for as long as I could remember.” Joanne, our mother, adds, “At a very young age, he would fight with his siblings over money. He’d cry and say, ‘You stole 7 pesos! Now I only have 13 pesos!’ Even though he’s mad already, he can still compute.” She had already seen manifestations of his talent in math during his early years. He knows that he’s had this special kind of intelligence ever since and that this gift is something that could deteriorate, if not taken care of through the years.

And so, Jason and our mother wanted his talent to be utilized. By joining contests, quiz bees and special educational programs, he was able to do so. He enrolled in Kumon’s Math Program for a couple of years and he is currently in the Advanced Math Program of his school, San Beda College Alabang. According to her, these are simple measures to exercise his skill. Also, she believes that encouragement and advice are some of the best things parents’ could give to his or her child. “It’s a parent’s obligation to make the child understand how special he is and allow him to maximize his potential,” says our mom. Jason says, “Mom and dad have been a great part of my journey. Without them, I wouldn’t have gotten this far! It’s been a pretty tiring expedition but I’m glad I’m on the right track.”

Although joining such contests wear him out because of the constant 7-hour training sessions he’s required to attend and other preparations he has to make, he still enjoys these kinds of experiences. “Being in other places and meeting new people are just some of the nice things about joining contests,” shares Jason. Not only has Jason been in provinces like Iloilo and Cebu, he has also visited Singapore and Indonesia. These competitions have given him exposure to other cultures and a different kind of confidence that he does not earn from school or at home. Another perk is that it would have a positive effect in his academic status, since he is running for graduation honors. He needs big points for his candidacy, and joining (and winning) contests outside school could earn the points that he needs.

For a young individual, the opportunities he gets are overwhelming, in a sense that he is able to utilize his skills in an enjoyable way. He is perhaps privileged to be sent by the Mathematics Trainors’ Guild to other places to represent his school and his country and earn recognitions.

Other than competing in the field of math, he also excels in other aspects. He is a writer for their Grade School Department’s newspaper, a Taekwondo blue-belter and a violinist in his school’s band. Despite being “all that”, would you believe he still has spare time? He allots this time for doing most boys his age would do, like playing Wii and Playstation games with his friends from our village and answer quizzes on Facebook. Being his rival when it comes to the TV and computer at home, I’m forced to watch and see whatever he likes during his turn. One of the TV shows he religiously watches is Air Crash Investigation on National Geographic Channel. He’s a geek like that, even when he surfs the net! I’d sneak and see him reading Wikipedia articles about very random stuff. I’ve come to a realization that my brother’s a monster, being able to do all of these!

“I do a lot of things but I don’t really feel like I’m tired of doing all of them—the math competitions and hobbies. Despite how stressing it is to do these, I continue doing them because I enjoy them!” he states.

“It’s not just being good in your chosen fields and harvesting the fruits of the labor,” Jason says. “Enjoying what God has given you, enriching it and becoming better at it is much more important.” What kind of ‘bacon’ has Jason brought home? It’s becoming a better person each time he overcomes a contest, a day of class, a recital and even just a game of Wii Sports.

Student Turned Model Turned Stylist

093862

Student Turned Model Turned Stylist

Photo shoots. Fashion. Glam. Stature. Presence. Style. Empowerment. Bangles. These are the words best associated to a person I know who is amazing but at the same time controversial. She is extraordinary enough to accomplish quite a lot even when conflicts flooded in. She is Lou Yao.

Lou Yao, standing at 5’5’’ at age 20 with her Asian-colored luminous skin accented with deep Chinita eyes as her best asset, has graced the covers of Meg/Candy magazines, the screens of GMA commercials and a whole lot

more. She has already accomplished so much as a model and now, even a stylist at such an early age, but her journey wasn’t all glitz and glamour.

Born on the 24^th of December in 1988 to a Chinese family, she is the middle child of three sisters. (I've known her for quite some time now, because her youngest sister is a very close friend of mine.) Her sisters would describe her as the most mischievous one, but at the same time the most reliable sister. “One time, back when we were kids, we were at a party. I was just standing in a corner, suddenly she (Lou) comes to me and then I start crying. She must’ve pinched me or something. And I even have a video to prove this!” shares youngest sister, Louie. “but then every time someone picks on me, she’s always there to fight them off.”

It’s not hard to imagine what the mischievous young Lou was like, especially since now she exudes such strong personalities and vibrant auras that make you feel as if you’ve been friends with her for a very long time, though others take it the wrong way.

After spending 11 years in a Chinese school near her then house, she was asked to transfer. It was funny how a fourteen year old was accused of committing adultery. Her family asked for proof to support their allegations, but the school administration didn’t have anything other than “hearsays”. How about another chance? The administration said they couldn’t do anything anymore; the damage had already been done. Even other schools would not accept a student who’d been kicked out for such reasons. She had no choice but to be home schooled, while her sisters remained where they have studied. A minor set-back that obviously didn’t prove to be enough to stop this young lady, after some time, she finally made it to college.

Lou may have had rough times with her “schooling”, but her modelling career was blossoming. At age 13, she joined a model search by Ford Modelling Agency called “Who Wants To Be A Top Model?” – but she was too young to work abroad, so she was booted out. When doors close, windows usually open. Calcarrie’s International Modelling Agency signed her up, and she became their youngest model at that time. From then on her career skyrocketed. She has been on glossy magazines, GMA Station ID, Palmolive Circle of 10, John Robert Powers Billboard. How was she able to get the hang of being a model? “It helps to attend modelling and acting workshops. One good company that offers these would be John Robert Powers.” Lou advises.

She is currently studying Styling at School of Fashion and the Arts (SoFa). And that’s where she started her career as an assistant celebrity stylist. Luis Espiritu, her mentor-turned-boss, liked her performance as a student, called her up and asked if she wanted to pursue a career as a stylist. She, of course, said yes.

So it has been two months since she agreed to do the job and indeed she has already done much. She has worked with Lea Salonga, KC Concepcion, Maricar Reyes, John Lloyd Cruz, Sarah Geronimo, Jericho Rosales, and Tessa Prieto-Valdez, and many, many more! I just had to ask what it was like - “I just talk to them like how I talk to normal people. You can’t afford to be a fan because as a stylist you have to portray the image of being “sosyal” so that celebrities and models won’t belittle you. Some of them I can say are really nice. Like Ms. Tessa Prieto. She’s really one of a kind.” says Lou.

I believe many would kill to have her job; imagine all the free stuff (Yes, she gets free clothing apparels, accessories, tickets, gift certificates, food. You name it, she gets it FREE.), the famous and powerful people she meets, but what does it really take to get a styling career? “You have to have your own identity and style. There’s a fine line between fashion and style, being a “fashionista” is not enough in this type of job. You have to be stylish in your own way to be able to survive. I really love dressing up, so maybe one of my edges in this industry is the fact that I am “maarte” in nature.”

After an hour or two, I was able to unravel juicy yet inspiring details of her life journeys. She may have been expelled and all, but taht never stopped her from succeeding. I guess it's not just about acing academically but also professionally and socially. In her case, she wasn't shaped up by books, but by experience. What she went through wasn't easy. She had to face accusations, consequences, and even injustice I might add. But she was able to turn these "mishaps" into tools to her advantage. It might have taken awhile to oversee all the problems that went her way, but surely she has made a strong comeback. It could've been difficult to overcome if it wasn't for friends and family's love and care. "They (friends and family) understand that I'm just starting so they hepl me as well. As for my parents, they are very supportive; they let us grow and learn on our own." Lou acknowledges.

I won't be surprised to see her face plastered on media the next time I go out. :)