Kikit Avenue

FF 55-11: Papa

2011-11-18T11:32:00.001+09:00

He patiently stood and waited while I folded the hem of his khaki pants inwards. It’s a gift from a cousin.

“Thanks,” he beamed as I stood up.

“You used to do that for me when I was a kid.”

“Things have turned around, huh?”

We then heard mass together. Just like the old times.

* Flash Friday 55

FF 55 - 10: Alzheimer's

2011-11-11T22:54:00.001+09:00

First, he forgot the date,

then his age,
then his retirement party,
then his profession,
then his marriage,
then his friends,
then his hobbies,
then his diploma,
then his driver's license,
then his first love,
then his first performance on stage,
then his childhood days,
then his parents,

then he'll soon forget how to pee.

Handmade Cards

2011-11-09T01:13:00.000+09:00

Dan and I moved to our own place tonight. This afternoon, while I was packing our things, I found a personalized card in a pile of books and folders.

I was really surprised at how patient, and perhaps creative, I was before. When I was a student, I used to collect beautiful printed paper and save lovely wrappers for my collages and scrapbooks. The artwork I incidentally stumbled upon was one of the sweetest and nicest outputs (hey, that's according to my standards) I've given to Papa and Mama.

I'm posting the details of the card. This is part of my high schoolish drama so please bear with it. :D

Looked for different cartoon characters, scissored them and glued them in a line.

The Internet wasn't popular in the country yet.

That explains the mailbox on the upper left corner.

The three small hearts before the word love. Awww!!!

Hey, look at the three butterflies beside the date!

Made this in September 1997, when I was 16.

I can't remember why I placed a blue car there.

I guess I just didn't want to throw it away.

Love lots was my favorite complimentary close.

A heart or a smiley often follows my name.

I'm a bit sad that everything has gone digital these years. Though e-cards and Photoshopped designs are convenient and amazing, a part of me still treasures handmade notes and letters. It's a shame I don't make stuffs like this anymore.

Business Card Ideas that Won’t Let You Down

2011-11-07T16:26:00.000+09:00

Are you confused on how to make your marketing weapon? Break away from your worries and read a few business card ideas that will definitely get you started.

Even the smallest ant says something.

You have to remember that a business card is not only a piece of paper you distribute to people. It’s a powerful opportunity to reveal your identity and to market your services. Your clients can somehow create an image of the kind of products you sell by just looking at it.

Tell me what kind of business card you have and I will tell you who you are.

The business card design must be coherent to your company’s nature, goals and priorities. If you’re a preschool director, try adding light colorful images to your card. If you’re a manager, blue and black colors would be elegant. If you’re a sound artist, don’t you think creatively illustrated notes will add life?

The coin has two sides.

State the information your clients need and make sure you follow a reader-friendly layout. A complete list includes your name, position, phone number, email address and the company’s logo, address, webpage, and list of services. Don’t cram too much text on the front side. The back part can be maximized as well.

Great label, great impression.

When we hear the lines, “Melts in your mouth, not in your hand” or “Gather ‘round the good stuff,” we exactly remember the products they advertise. That strategy applies to business cards too. The catchy slogan in your card will be the main determinant why clients would call you.

If you’re still baffled, try to surf the widest resource center. The Internet has quite a number of samples and free business card templates that might guide you in coming up with a unique one. As you finalize your design, just remember one thing: Business cards are meant to be kept, not to be thrown.

FF 55-9: Fear

2011-11-04T22:05:00.001+09:00

When you die, you’ll go to heaven.
You’ll meet her there,
you’ll meet her there.
When I die, I’ll go to heaven, too.
We’ll all meet there,
we’ll all meet there.
Who will you choose, my love:
me or her,
me or her?
I’m afraid of dying because you still care
for her,
for her.

* Flash Friday 55

I'm Not Yours

2011-10-29T23:45:00.000+09:00

I don't consider myself creative. I'm ~~plane~~ plain. I'm sorry for that homophonic misspelling. These past few days, I'm engrossed with the fantasy of taking a first class airline seat to Manila, comforting myself at a reserved space in Araneta Coliseum to watch Jason Mraz perform on stage. I'd like to see him dance, sing and steal the moment as he strums his guitar with his signature hat or bonnet on his unkempt curls. Ah, what a beautiful mess!

Yep, I'm a ~~plane~~ plain woman. I don't think I'm asking too much. I just want to make it mine - that night when I'll see him pull up his sleeves to show me his beginner's-mind tattoo. I'm not really into skin designs (I still want to visit an onsen again) but his just tickles my curiosity. He had it imprinted on his arm when he started meditating, to constantly remind himself to see the world like how a beginner would - excited, courage-driven, full of passion.

I try to live my life ~~planely~~ plainly. I'm aware the long-awaited rocket won't come to fetch me but if ever I get a chance to see him, I'll stop the world to melt with his talent, be one of those do-or-die fans who think screaming makes life wonderful. I promise not to beg for a kiss or an autograph from him. I've already outgrown that childish desire to desperately chase after singers. Oops, I just made a revelation!

Okay, enough of that long introduction. Here's the ~~plane~~ plain truth: Jason will be in the country tomorrow but I'm not watching his show. He must have intended to sing a happy-one-year-wiser song for me (so timely) but you see, fate is cruel. I won't be lucky enough to make it

unless somebody gives me a round trip ~~plain~~ plane ticket as a gift.

FF 55-8: Not Yet, Please

2011-10-28T10:40:00.001+09:00

I've neither set foot in sinking Thailand
Nor swam in the clear waters of clash-laden Basilan.
Let me walk along the flooded streets of Italy,
Peak at the historical edifices of earthquake-struck Turkey.
Don’t let the world crumble without me seeing Jason.
Please delay that dreadful schedule.
There’s still much to explore with Your creation.

* Flash Friday 55

What is Data Entry - Four Things Contractors Should Know

2011-10-21T16:09:00.002+09:00

Data entry is becoming more popular among online contractors because it’s perceived as an easy and convenient job. But is having basic computer skills and a speedy Internet connection enough to sustain the assigned responsibilities? Read the answers to the question, “What is data entry?” and assess whether you’re fitted for this position.

You will handle documents.

Documents give life to the company. All organizations use them as their basis for analysis of data, formulation of marketing strategy, decision making, presentation and documentation. The consequences of referring to inaccurate or insufficient information are quite serious. Imagine a corporate lawyer getting offers on litigation cases because his expertise wasn’t properly encoded. It would surely affect his employment opportunities.

You have to stretch your patience a little longer.

As part of your what-is-data-entry inquiry, you must know that this job includes a simple but detailed process of finishing a task. Posting job ads, filling in forms, copying and pasting texts and converting PDF files to spreadsheets may not require critical thinking but can be also taxing if you lack the value of patience.

You may be asked to research.

For research tasks, typing the right keywords is critical to finding the desired information readily. It would not be that difficult though since the Internet can generate all the websites for you in a matter of seconds. What is more important is how you organize the data to be presented to your employer. Giving them a list of information may be enough but arranging the data in a meaningful and easily comprehensible way means quality work for your superior.

You must meet deadlines.

Employers may have chosen to outsource employees for practical purposes but still, they maintain certain standards. One of which is on-time submission of the documents and records they require. Late output deliveries can cause delay in the company’s other significant operations. You have to be accurately alert and fast.

Aside from reading this what-is-data-entry article, you must also be aware that the competition for this job is high. Many people from different countries would like to have a home-based job like this. If you don’t get accepted right away, don’t be discouraged. There are plenty of employment websites on the Internet that offer data entry opportunities.

FF 55-7: Invisible

2011-10-21T09:50:00.001+09:00

Who wants to borrow Harry’s invisible cloak? Raise your right hand.

Hmmm, let me write your names so I can send the list to Hogwarts.

Yuko. Alicia. Fabian. Camille. Mathias. Francisca. Vojtěch. Siiri. Hugo. Georgia. Katarzyna. Diogo. Claudia. Iker. Andrea. Viktor. Leonie. Katerina. Gustav. Marie. Inday. Benjamin. Sarah. Aliyah. Maddox. Procopia. Li. Alexander. Einar. Miyu.

* Friday Flash 55

Nothing

2011-10-18T00:32:00.003+09:00

When you are doing nothing, you tend to think of everything.

Everything. That includes how silly you were for sending your first communion photo to your crush way back in elementary and how you answered the recruitment officer when she asked, "How do you see yourself ten years from now?"

Tonight, while listening to the sound of raindrops on the roof, I am again amazed of how time has twisted and turned my life. After graduation, I thought I would seriously pursue a single career. But I had a detour. A few beautiful detours, actually. Now, just right now, I'm awestruck with my realization that I still want so many things. That's why I started this post by saying,

when you are doing nothing, you tend to think of everything.

It can be frustrating at times. Thinking of all those little steps you need to take to reach your i-can-die-at-this-instant moment can be frustrating. Sometimes, when people tell me, "Take things one at a time," I get pissed of. But every time I recognize there's no shortcut to achieving dreams, that line instantly becomes my best friend and all those people become my wise mentors. Oh, how fickle-minded I can be!

So what's the point of this blog? I'm not sure. I'm not really doing anything this time. That's why there's so many things I want to say. But you know what, I miss this: allowing my fingers to freely dance on my keyboard without doing much thinking. This is what writing should be, huh?

Hey, I might create major changes in this blog soon. I might transfer some posts to where they should be. I might delete some, though I'm not really sure about it. I might re-post my favorites, though I'm not sure about it, either. At this minute, what I'm only sure of is

when you are doing nothing, you tend to think of everything.

FF 55-6: Silence

2011-10-14T14:54:00.000+09:00

Are you guilty of murdering her soul with back-stabbing revelations, half-truth half-fiction stories and below-the-belt accusations?

Silence.

Why did you slaughter her heart with sarcastic one liners, unconcealing metaphors and rage-inflicting verses?

Silence.

Are you ready to face lethal injection for letting loose of your dangerous, life-threatening and breath-snatching creative weapon?

Silence.

You're doomed.

Silence.

FF 55-5: Choices

2011-10-07T00:00:00.000+09:00

Yes or no?
Stop or go?
Stay or leave?
Hoard or give?
Now or later?
Before or after?
Outside or inside?
Suppress or confide?
Cook or dine-out?
Trust or doubt?
Red or blue?
Three or two?
Fish or meat?
Salty or sweet?
Text or call?
Library or mall?
Green grass or seashore?
Comment or ignore?

* Friday Flash 55

FF 55-4: Joy

2011-09-30T22:52:00.002+09:00

Feel the free fall from bangs to soles. Allow the rainbow-filled bubbles to glide and pop as it mirrors every microscopic filth. Rinse like how a child gleefully jumps at water fountains. Pat your body dry and dab a generous amount of sweetness. Then lie down stress-freely and let your naked soul wander in wonderland.

* Friday Flash 55

FF 55-3: Soaked

2011-09-23T00:00:00.000+09:00

Umbrella-less lass tiptoes through the ankle-high murkiness. She's drenched by sulfuric drops, haunted by Leptospirosis and appalled with visions of floating nasty lotus. On days like this, she used to gloat about her rain shower and paper boats on a puddle.

Nowadays, clouds shed tears like Alice's, thunder roars more loudly and lightning strikes harder.

* Flash Friday 55.

The Curious

2011-09-20T21:15:00.001+09:00

Here's an anecdote shared by a PNU professor.

Five-year old Maria rushed to the comfort room to pee. Because she was in a hurry, she forgot to close the door and just turned on the hose.

Her classmate Mario witnessed the whole process. Shocked, he ran to their adviser and exclaimed, "Teacher, teacher, I saw Maria pee and she has no penis."

The conservative teacher wanted to point her finger to Mario but she controlled her temper, extended her patience and answered him promptly. "Mario, Maria is a girl and you are a boy. Girls have a vagina and boys have a penis."

Mario got curious and innocently asked her another question, "Teacher, teacher, what's a vagina?"

The conservative teacher wanted to fly off the handle but she controlled her temper, extended her patience and answered him promptly. "It's the sex organ girls use to pee."

Mario got curiouser and innocently asked her another question, "Teacher, teacher, do you also have a vagina?"

The conservative teacher felt the student was starting to become a pain in her neck but she controlled her temper, extended her patience and answered him promptly. "Like your mother, like your sister, I also have a vagina."

Mario got curiouser and curiouser and innocently asked her another question, "Teacher, teacher, can I see your vagina?"

The conservative teacher felt insulted that Mario has gone below the belt but she controlled her temper, extended her patience and answered him promptly. "Mario, the vagina or penis isn't something you can just show off to other people."

Mario, who ran out of seemingly silly questions, joined his classmates. The teacher released a great sigh and said, "Sex education!"

FF 55-2: Connection

2011-09-16T20:00:00.000+09:00

“Thanks for always giving me a second chance.”

“No, I should thank you for letting me intrude your memory.”

“Don’t you think we are meant to be together?”

“We do, within the corners of this pink Hello Kitty pencil case,
with this Hello Kitty fanatic kid.”

“Until she consumes us.”

“Or until she’s fed up.”

* Flash Friday 55.

Win or Lose

2011-09-15T22:44:00.002+09:00

Since she was crowned Bb Pilipinas - Universe last April, I have been a fan. Blessed with natural beauty, innate intelligence, excellent education and perfect set of teeth, I asked myself who could be more deserving to represent the country than

Shamcey Supsup.

Confessedly, I am one of those who got a bit dismayed that she didn't get the crown. It's not because Leila Lopes (Ms Angola) doesn't deserve it. Of course, she does. It's only because I was looking for some upliftment for our country in this annual display of adorable faces. Self-serving, huh? I'm sorry I couldn't help it. This year, we also had a quality representative, we had an edge. But in a beauty pageant like this, the ultimate question isn't, "Who's the most beautiful of them all?" To quote Gloria Diaz, it should rather be, "Who's the luckiest woman?"

I believe Leila was lucky enough to answer an easier question. Anyone can simply state which part of their body they would want to change if given a chance and no one would hate them for that. Since she pointed out it's her inner beauty that creates radiance, it gave more impact to the cheering crowd. Shamcey, on the other had, was thrown a value question. To impress people, she must gain nods from everyone, especially the judges.

Considering the stage fright she must have felt that night, everyone opines she answered it with conviction. Every word she uttered is part of her character. I appreciate not only her eloquence but also her personal revelation to the whole world. However, I must admit I don't totally concur with the gist of her answer because I live a different hierarchy of values. If it were up to me, tolerance with our differences is more essential because it can bring peace to a highly pluralistic society. This respect for others' cultures and religion should not be a hindrance to relationships, even in marriage.

But again, that's just me. That's just the idealistic me. I'm not even saying this on stage within a 30-second time limit, with everyone ready to praise or condemn me, with seven critical judges evaluating my answer. I have even rephrased the previous paragraph many times.

Shamcey, thanks for taking our country to the top five. You did a splendid job and we are all proud of you. Win or lose, you got applauders here.

FF 55-1: Bitter

2011-09-09T12:25:00.000+09:00

“Swallow it?” she pondered. It seemed inexplicably terrible for her taste buds.

But she did anyway. Mouth. Esophagus. Stomach. Large Intestine. Then it had a graceful exit through her butt. The anger was smellier than fart.

Later, she played Super Mario on Nintendo Wii. It was good for her mind and heart. And face muscles.

* First entry for Friday Flash 55.

Madness, Isn't It?

2011-09-04T11:33:00.000+09:00

The main purpose of this blog is to warn you that Plants vs Zombies is detrimental to your life.

But I guess this post comes too late. While most of you are perhaps currently figuring out the physics behind the Angry Birds, I am still at the peak of my addiction to PVZ. Yes, I am a late bloomer and I did say addiction. I can compare my urge to massacre all the zombies to how smokers crave for a cigarette after a meal, how lurkers spend hours on social networking sites, how foodies overspend for goodies and how men resist to peek at those arousing almost-naked figures on FHM magazines hidden under their bed.

Well, those are only similes of my addiction. The main reason why it's harmful is it always ends up like this:

Madness, isn't it?

To be fair with this brilliantly conceptualized game, it actually teaches us important lessons. If you want to know them, read on.

Acceptance

While Papa was rendering overtime work choosing the perfect plants for the gruesome enemies, Mama urged him to go to bed. Since he was in the middle of a very critical task, he told her he would just follow. After an hour or two, he headed to their room only to find out it was already locked. He ended up nuzzling on the cold couch of our living room. The following day, he washed the dishes as his way of being sorry and of reminding himself that continuous exposure to radiation is not good for his vertigo.

Concern

My sister and I were in different rooms upstairs when she heard Papa and Mama's raised voices. Worried about what the oldies were into, she hurriedly checked the two of them in the living room to know what the commotion was all about. She found them laughing in front of the desktop because Mama didn't make it to the next flag of the endless survival level. Papa thought she was too obstinate to listen to his suggestions. My sister thought it was already a matter of life and death outburst. She felt relieved to know that it was only because of this:

Madness, isn't it?

Self-confidence

It was Mama's turn to play the game. My sister and I were behind her chair, coaching her what plants to choose. Unfortunately, Mama doesn't really know the powers of plants. She just adores the plump Squash crushing the zombies, the Cattail attacking foes at any lane and the Umbrella Leaf protecting the surrounding plants from bungee zombies. Since she wanted to get more flags, she consulted us. I told her she should not include the winter melon and use the pumpkin imitater. My sister, however, disagreed and arrogantly told us, "You should listen to me because I've reached 25 flags." Mama and I disapprovingly looked at her and said in chorus, "Me, too."

Since everyone in my nuclear family are PVZ freaks, we take turns in using the computer. So when it's Papa's turn, Mama and I share a conversation like how autistic kids would. While we're discussing about world wars, our eyes judge if Papa's plants are mighty enough to destroy all the living dead. If our topic is about football, our eyes detest the way Gargantuar throws his imp. If our topic is about termites, our eyes can't wait to see this:

Madness, isn't it?

I should end this blog now and go back to my reviewers. And probably later, I'll compete with my pet snail in my Zen garden and let the zombies eat my time.

At the Mango Stall

2011-08-23T09:34:00.003+09:00

A typical mango stall. Photo by Gem.

One weekday afternoon, I went outside my review center and bought a small pack of green mango at a sidewalk stall. I was drooling over the crunchy raw fruit Manang was slicing when her other companion scolded the other customer for throwing a plastic beside their customized pushcart. She was so furious she nagged for a couple of minutes. She mumbled that the city government is stricter in implementing proper garbage disposal and vendors have to pay for every rubbish found within their area.

Wow!

I was impressed at this 40-something-woman because we should boo litterbugs, too. Personally, I think it's alright not to attend to the clutter in our room readily or sweep our home's floor every day (although that unhygienic) but I feel it's too shameful to let others suffer from our own garbage. I took out my phone because I wanted to congratulate Inday Sarah for the effective waste disposal management of Davao City but suddenly, a strong fist hit my right cheek. When I turned my head around to see who did it, all I saw was

Penalty.

The sad thing with attending review sessions is you get refreshed with theories that explain behaviors of people. At that instant, I remember Kohlberg's Moral Development Theory. According to him, Manang's kind of reasoning is classified under pre-conventional level: doing things because of rewards or punishment. This most immature stage is common among egocentric children who go to bed early because the ghosts might attack them, help Mommy in the kitchen to get a cone of ice cream and arrange toys after playing to avoid a word from Dad.

Basura. Photo by Janit.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not particularly criticizing Manang because she just represents everyone else, including me. I do believe that this go-green fuss started to incite us in 2000, when evidences of climate change put us in panic. Mother Nature, who's now furious about our environmental maltreatment, is raging in forms of natural catastrophes. The biting heat, inundated streets, scary epidemics, melting glaciers, bald mountains, eroded and deteriorating soils, imbalance ecosystems, polluted water and air, etc. are now commonplace. If not because of these punishments that we inflicted in ourselves, the government would probably not implement environment-friendly measures rigorously and Manang can probably tolerate the sight of strewn plastics and barbecue sticks all over her spot.

I don’t have anything against imposing penalty. If the simple keep-the-environment-clean tag line isn't winning, then utilizing numbers may be the best resort. Although it’s highly effective, we all know that it’s an externalist move. Reactive. Doesn't assure of consistent results. I choose not to explain how we should deal with this issue according to Kohlberg’s mature post-conventional level

Until I can spend only ten minutes on Facebook every week.

The New Header

2011-08-19T09:38:00.004+09:00

I feel I need to write something spectacular about Dan because he designed my new header. But if there’s one thing I learned about married life, that’s doing away with such superficiality.

When you have witnessed your partner snored in bed comfortably, pled for the cheapest Transformer at the supermarket within his toy ban period, reformatted his laptop (Palcuto) for the nth time, explored video games only an otaku can identify, hoard tissue paper in his pocket, jumbled the shirts and gadgets in his duffle bag, goofed in front of the camera unhesitatingly and chopped his sunny-side up or scrambled egg into pieces before eating it up, acceptance is much more valuable than flattery.

Dan, trying to be gender-fair in Britania, Surigao del Sur

Hey, I’ve got no intention of disclosing my hubby’s habits. After all, he created the new header that speaks so much about his wifey. I credit him for that.

And for the times he handed me my vitamins after dinner (because I often forget it), ordered our food at the restaurant when I’m undecided (which is always the case), listened to how itchy the insect bites on my legs are, ate the snubbed onion and pepper on my plate, tolerated my intoxicated nights, held my hand while watching a film on his PC, embraced me like I’m a huggable Teddy Bear, tickled me before we went to dreamland, showered my face with kisses (that’s part of his morning ritual) and all those little ways of proving I stand out among others.

I hope the previous paragraph didn’t sound slushy. I assure you everything I mentioned were part of the five months we’ve shared as a couple. If you think I’m a show off, I’m sorry. I’m just so proud of the way he has captured my character in the new header.

So if you’re not a regular reader, stalker or lurker, here’s some useful information about me: I trust my wandering feet, adore the moonlit starry sky, feel beautiful in a floral dress, have a five-year-old blue backpack and got hooked up with an artist.

Dan, thanks for the new header and for the you know what.

Is Ukay-Ukay Okay?

2011-08-06T15:09:00.002+09:00

I remember my mother and my eldest sister went home one night with a plastic bag of clothes. They said each member in the family would get one. With much enthusiasm, I grabbed the striped dark blue and purple polo shirt for me. I loved the color and fit so much it had been my favorite for some time.

That's how I came to like ukay-ukay.

When I went to college in downtown, my friends and I happened to share the same interest. We would walk a few blocks from our university to Dona Segunda Building, where bargain shops nestle in line. We thought then how recycling could be such a practical idea. The second-hand garments from first-world countries were still in good condition. Branded or brand-less, they were pretty much affordable. We didn't find a dollar bill in any pocket of pants or shorts, though. Tsk!

As the buying capability of peso continues to weaken, more shops and stalls open up for these ready-to-wear imported goods. They're here, there and everywhere, especially during fiestas in towns. At sidewalks where the Filipino 'masa' usually flock, vendors would set up their folding beds and put heaps of jumbled pre-owned clothes so customers can easily choose, search, stir, dig, rummage, hunt or dive (term it the way you like it). Those who frequent know when the new stock arrives. Those who underspend charismatically use their haggling skills. Those who understand English can't help but chuckle at some

ridiculous labels that can even make zombies dance.

Last night, in my conversation with Sigmund Freud about this, he asked me a very simple evaluative question: Is ukay-ukay okay? The three parts of my human psyche mumbled their own answers.

The egocentric id instinctively said, "Remember the Pro-Specs sleeping bag you got at a reasonable prize for your camping escapades? You can’t buy such at an outdoor adventure shop for less than a thousand. How about that 90-peso life jacket Dan bought for you at Pinamungahan? Its kiddie size is just perfect for your petite body structure, isn't it? You see, ukay-ukay has many things to offer and they address many of your basic needs. You need shoes? Leather bag? Curtains? Swim suits? Sweatshirts? Name it, they got it. So tag a friend along and go shopping. It will be surely fun!”

The realistic ego seemed to support id's self-centeredness. "Charles Darwin’s evolution theory compels consumers to be wise buyers. They don’t only satisfy a certain need but they also live within their means. The savings they can generate from buying second-hand goods can be allotted for the three-month old baby’s milk, for the monthly housing loan payment, for the tuition of a graduating son and the high electricity bill. So don’t be ashamed of resorting to ukay-ukay. After all, it helps you survive the demands of life. Besides, the people you come across or walk along the pathway don’t give a damn about where you got your shirt, unless you’re a stranger as beautiful as Nicole Kidman.”

The conscientious superego was the last to speak. “Don’t you realize that this trend has encouraged smugglers to dump garbage into our own country? Some of the sacks also contain toxic materials that harm our health. But because many people don't understand these hazards, this prohibited business has continued to thrive, crippling the local textile industries. So give yourself and your country some pride. Buy yourself something new and patronize our own products, especially if you’re not living the life of a rat. Look at the situation from a distance and consider not only your own gratification but also the welfare of the many."

“So is ukay-ukay okay?” Freud repeated the question.

“Why don’t we talk about sex?” I suggested.

With No Strings Attached

2011-07-29T01:31:00.003+09:00

Attachment can be a traitor.

It curtains smiles and giggles,

entices through indulgences,

and projects faces and memories.

But it actually causes

the damp hanky,
the forlorn hope,

and the nostalgic heart.

It can tether your feet

with self-made traps in your room,

put you in a white-dominated asylum,

or bury you in the darkest pit

for the decomposers to feast on.

So look up to a carefree
bird or nomad

with an imaginary shoebox

filled with jewels that come and go.

By the Traffic Light Pole,

2011-07-09T03:24:00.003+09:00

I stood and frowned.

1. Why do many Filipinos wait for a couple of hours for a late friend but can't even pause for a couple of minutes for the green light signal?

2. When will they fix the traffic light at the other intersection?

3. How can the Philippines solve the Pajero and fertilizer scams if our petty problems such as jaywalking aren't even addressed?

Perhaps there's no need for the mayor to punch the sheriff to awaken us nor prove if the president deserves a passing mark after his first year of service.

If you're tired, just tell me and I'll sit with you at the gutter with a bottle of Tequila. It's not good to get wasted but who cares anyway?

Always with the Spirit

2011-07-04T21:31:00.006+09:00

The best things in life are free

Imaginary lines forming constellations in the sky so starry

The snore of a sound sleep in the middle of the night

An embrace that eases up your tremor and fright

The shade of a tree and the fresh green grass under it

The sight of a happy stray bird with its melodic tweet

The best things in life are ordinary

The books enriching your insights and vocabulary

Bell pepper and ginger spicing up your cooking

A heart-shaped leaf you found while walking

The wall calendar telling you how long you've lived

The flour you refined with your plastic white sieve

The best things in life are life-saving

A short message of condolence in times of grieving

Somebody's arms when you're about to collapse

The mouse's nibbles to break off the net traps

A listening ear and uplifting spirit when you're in the pit

A water source while trekking to the mountain's summit

The best things in life are earned

An encyclopedia of medication at a university you learned

A secured savings account when a daughter is terribly sick in bed

The scouting badge you receive after planting a tree in the watershed

A vow, hug, kiss or salute of love and respect you've longed for

Tossing the graduation cap with arms as strong as Thor's

The best things in life are looked forward

Winning the football game where you played so hard

Riding the gondola in Italy, munching Swiss cheese

A baby from a woman's womb brings so much bliss

The first salary and the first shoes you bought with it

Heaven and cherubs with wings nothing can even beat

H and W

2011-06-30T00:38:00.003+09:00

A slice of His pie is labeled with irony. Sometimes you ask for a clear sky but all you get are drips. Another slice is tagged with deceit. Sometimes you assume you already found the one only to discover you believed in a delusion. Another slice is marked with disguise. Sometimes you pray for a man but He sends a woman.

The strings that attached W to her ex-beau got jumbled. Though they had plans of hooking up with each other, she lost interest in sorting things out because of the way he indulged his ego. Feeling taken advantage, she wanted to end the relationship but had cold feet. Though she thought she deserved a better man, she couldn't muster her courage to break his heart.

Meanwhile, the strings that attached H to his ex-wife got jumbled too. She cheated on him for three years, swindling the money he diligently earned abroad. He resorted to denial at first but when the other lover called him to confirm his doubts, he couldn't take it anymore. It was a slap on his face. He couldn't help but get furious at them.

Caught up in their own misery, they mused, "Does He really answer prayers?"

He did, through G. She built the bridge between the two lost, lonely souls through the babies of technology. She highly favored W to be the lifetime partner of his brother. Her instincts told her that they would be a perfect match for each other and she was able to confirm it when H called W for the first time. An indescribable but comfortable feeling dwell on them right away and they began to pin their hopes on it.

But it wasn't easy for them to go against the odds to fight for their love. With rumors saying H was still on the rebound from his partner's infidelity, W's parents got worried for their daughter. The ex-wife also blackmailed H for making such decision. Things got topsy-turvy but because of their immense love for each other, they took risks and withstood everything. They felt sad some people were hurt in the process but if they hadn't gambled, they would not have said vows last January 29 in their bright golden Islamic wedding costume.

It was written in the stars that H and W would have a challenging start, an exciting plot and with fingers crossed, a happy ending.

Mabrook!

At the ICU

2011-06-04T01:32:00.005+09:00

Why me?

Who should be?

I don't deserve this.

Who does?

God, it hurts so much. Heal me.

I'm sorry.

Is that all you can do? Say sorry?

I made your doctors.

Then what is left for you to do?

I'm the Timekeeper.

Care to extend mine?

Cheating is impossible.

Why so soon?

54 years have passed. I miss you.

Nonon, You Can

2011-06-02T20:51:00.001+09:00

take a plunge into the water

because

YOU CAN

swim.

When you're at the bottom,

remember we're just here for you!

Mactan Bridge

2011-05-27T13:46:00.005+09:00

Night shots

I couldn't capture

without Mark.

Thanks for the time, company, barbecue dinner and most of all, crash photography course. When I get a tripod, I'll baptize it with the name, Markee. Ninong ka! :)

Godly Guimaras

2011-05-10T15:59:00.001+09:00

I haven't written travel blogs for more than a year. Now that I follow a lenient schedule, I'll try to revive this indulgence. I'll begin with my latest getaway. If the details bore you, the photos will speak for themselves.

* * *

If you favor endless shorelines, Guimaras isn’t the island you should pay a visit to. But if you want to feel how holy it was when Jesus walked at sea one stormy night, then an experience with its blue-green waters is probably the closest you can get.

North Bus Terminal in Cebu

This spur-of-the-moment getaway started with an overnight bus ride from Cebu to Bacolod via Tabuelan. We left at 7:30 p.m. on Holy Wednesday, so we expected passengers to flock and willing to stampede (to say it exaggeratedly) at the bus terminal, longing to get home for religious traditions. Blessed by fate, we were able to push ourselves and get a little space along the aisle. To sum it up, that night was spent nudging other people’s butts and boobs on a standing position less the titillation of foreplay.

Edmund and Dan at the port

In Bacolod, Edmund met us to get a couple of sticker-decorated guitars Dan brought for Binhi. They had hot coffee at a store while I contented my starving stomach with cup noodles. We then bought fast craft tickets bound for Iloilo. Minutes after our bottoms were glued on our seats, we reached the REM state, to make up for our jaded bodies. Once in a while, I desperately attempted to wake up and stare at the islands along the way but if they were not blurry, they were whirling around so I eventually gave up.

Therefore it is high-time to forgive and forget,
or forget and forgive.
Whichever comes first or is in any case the most convenient.
I'm waiting.
(Hatter, Alice in Wonderland)

As this trip was unplanned, we never knew how to get to our destination. So I sent a text message to my geeky fellow blogger who’s based in city. I was so thrilled to see him for the first time as he has sent me a couple of books that were both good reads. After our Chowking breakfast, he assured we had correct tickets, oriented us about the place, gave us packs of yummy butterscotch and sent us off to Guimaras. Our time with him was so short but there’s no need to fret. I just KNOW we will meet in Davao some time. Right, Geek?

Guimaras mangoes

From the Guimaras wharf, we took a jeepney to Sitio Alubihod in Jordan, the community often visited by tourists for its fine white-sand beaches. As expected, many parts of the main highway were guarded with green mango trees. The island is known as a top producer of the national fruit of the country, mangoes. If I couldn’t eat as much seafood as I wanted to because of our limited resources, then I thought a slice of yellow ripe mango would be enough.

Raymen Beach Resort

When we arrive at Raymen Beach Resort, the place was jam-packed with families and clusters of friends. Though the island is famous for its Lenten presentation, many Filipinos had taken the opportunity to bond and chill out with their loved ones as Holy Week means four consecutive days without work. The Catholic Church is most likely worried about this getting-popular-practice as a wrong notion of celebrating the passion of Christ. Dan and I might have been in the wrong direction as well but guilt started to wane as we hired a pump boat and went island hopping.

Island hopping in Guimaras

It wasn’t exactly because excitement took over. Oh well, that’s one. The other thing was the seawater hues that awestruck me. Maybe it was because of the perfect weather, the seabed or the depth of the water but staring at the shades of turquoise to teal, I felt His sacredness. Apart from this, for less than 500 pesos, we saw various rock and island formations that didn’t only please our eyes but our very souls. That’s what I like about traveling. It keeps me wondering at the scenery before me. But traveling as an avenue of my spirituality is another story, so I’ll write about it with my “emo” side at another time.

Pauper fish and marine turtle

What frustrated me a bit was the boatmen were not as accommodating as those in Palawan. So with the language barrier and my memory loss problem, I end up forgetting some details. Anyway, we stopped at two rescue centers of marine turtles (pawikan). Tourists can carry it and see how its legs waggle stiffly. The attendant also placed on my palm a pauper fish. It looked soooo cute as it stood steadily, trying to entertain us without having to swim.

Ave Maria scenery

We also stopped at an island called “Ave Maria”. It was ideal for swimming with its sugary-textured sand. The non-swimmer Kikit didn’t forget to bring my vest and snorkels. Sadly we didn’t find much fish and colorful corals, unlike what other bloggers have written. Was it because of the oil spill? Where were they hiding? Bummer, I didn’t ask the boatmen.

At the cave

We also stopped at a cave. It wasn’t that huge but still you can see its stalagmites and stalactites. You have to watch where you’re standing. It’s safer to step on rocks as some parts of the cave are deep. When we went there, there was also a sea snake. I didn’t see it but when Dan told me, I climbed back to our boat instantly. Whew!

Islet in Guimaras

Then we spent the rest of the trip watching islands. We passed by some private ones, far better (and more expensive) than Raymen. Staying at Isla Naburot was our main target because of its peaceful ambiance and excellent food. We didn’t get an answer from our query so fortunately, our pockets were spared from paying the bill. We still love to check it out, though.

After the island hopping, we swam and waited for the sunset at the shoreline. Too bad the clouds covered the setting sun. Nevertheless, it was magnificent.

At the end of the day, even as mighty as you

get tired of peering at the aqua-green waters,

floaters, swimmers, shell lovers and shore dwellers.

Slowly you vanish from everyone's sight at dusk,

spilling colors of orange and golden yellow in the sky,

making that setting a moment

not dazzling but mesmerizing,

not blinding but revealing.

In the splendor of your surrender, I find beauty.

At the Trappist Abbey

The next day, we dropped by at Trappist Abbey Monastery, the dwelling of Cistercian monks. The shade of the trees made the place cozy and comfy. As they devote their life into prayer and work, you can see a church where daily masses are held at 6:00 a.m. and a shop where they sell goods to visitors from their own factory. It has also a guesthouse for people in retreats.

Waiting passengers

We went back to Iloilo on a very busy Good Friday at the ferry boat terminal. It was worse than our bus ride. Good thing was there were plenty of ferries for the waiting passengers.

Regression

2011-05-04T10:28:00.010+09:00

After the wedding, I was bombarded with questions like, “How does it feel to be married?” “What does it feel like to have a new family name?” “How is he as your hubby and how are you as his wifey?” So before Duchess Catherine answer all these questions for you, let me share mine. I’m also a commoner like her but unfortunately, I don’t have her beauty, body and brains that can make a prince go gaga.

Hey, I’m not sour graping. I’m actually regressing.

According to Psychology, regression is a defense mechanism in which you flee from reality by assuming a more infantile state. But the thing is, I’m not doing it unconsciously. I’m not avoiding anxiety stressors, either. Staying in the house all day while somebody’s working for you is like re-living babyhood. You ain’t got money but everything's provided by your honey.

I’m not being insolent. Indolent, probably. I can’t source this sloth that’s running democratically in my blood. I didn’t even know it struck to me one day. While lying down on the coach this time, I opine I may be tired of spending 29 years always on the go. The energy of youth! Oh, I did maximize it to the tips and have no regrets. So many beautiful things happened, so many beautiful people introduced, so many beautiful opportunities grabbed. And though I strongly insist that nobody can take that away from you, I’d admit that currently, hibernation is my tempting nook.

The past few weeks, I’ve been spending most of my time feather dusting windows, arranging and rearranging our things, hissing at how supermarkets grab my budget, segregating biodegradable and non-biodegradable rubbish, sprinkling fabric conditioner on our laundry, sweeping fallen “tambis” by our gate and the most challenging of it all, befriending kitchen utensils and ingredients to produce a palatable dinner out of my one-time recipes for my dearest. Surprisingly, I didn’t hear any complaints from him so far. So ~~maybe, just maybe, I’m…~~ for sure, “Magic Sarap” is quite effective.

To simplify things, I’m presently enjoying being a plain housewife and the way I have un-prioritized what used to be my priorities. I can’t promise myself I’d stay this way for good, though. I just can’t turn my back on my desired career path and at the same time, I’d also like to help in letting ends meet and in saving for more flying escapades. Who knows, I might start looking for a job next week out of boredom. haha :p

So while the world is supporting my homemaking and nobody's complaining about my dillydallying, let me drink beer. For me and for Kate.

Cheers!

Educational Materials for Preschools

2011-05-03T16:25:00.003+09:00

Preschool education is quite critical and significant because it prepares the children to encounter greater challenges not only in the formal studies but also in the real world. Although children learn mostly by play, they benefit from it because the foundation of their cognitive, affective and psychomotor aspects is developed. It is therefore recommended that teachers use instructional materials that facilitate learning in the most effective way.

The following are some of the materials I myself have personally utilized in the classroom and because I am more than satisfied with the results, I’m sharing them with you. But bear in mind that having all of them may still be futile if you don’t couple it with the idea of play. Children have a very short attention span so everything must be presented excitingly to keep them in focus.

Remember, a wise and cheerful child is a wise and cheerful adult.

Read more.

Simple Art Activities for Kids

2011-05-03T15:45:00.000+09:00

Are you a teacher or a parent who's running out of activities for your kids?

Try these simple activities. I learned them when I was in elementary. Some of my teachers required us to do this in our art class. They are so easy to do and the materials aren't that difficult to secure. Take that statement from a non-artist who have tried them enthusiastically.

Read more.

Zen and Life

2011-04-28T21:55:00.000+09:00

Real conversation. Sometime in 2008. Trina's words are not mine, though.

Maika: How did you come to be interested in meditation and such?

Trina: I first became interested in Zen when I was in university. I came across a book and I think it changed my life. It came at a time when I was starting to think about my life and how I was going to live it. I went to a Zen centre and then sporadically tried meditating on my own but I never managed to keep it as a regular thing. I think part of it was that I didn't really know what I was supposed to do or not do. But many people told me to just remain aware, just sit. I have gone through periods where I've kept up a strong daily sitting practice for many months but I have also dropped it for large chuncks of time. I am trying to ease back into maintaining a daily practice again right now. How about you?

Maika: Last year, I read a book of a favorite author. Part of it is his concise yet inspirational explanation about Zen through its practices. Since then, I got interested in it and started to visit a website about it. That's where I learned about meditation, which is quite interesting for a confused person who needs to set her priorities in life. But the sad thing is, though I like its idea, I don't exert much effort to widen my understanding. It's as if I'm just allowing time to explain Zen to me but I think it's the laziest way. Haha. Sometimes, I wish there's a community around here who can guide me. But I guess I have to do it on my own.

Trina: So you're confused too?! Join the club! It's good to have company. I actually think most people are pretty confused and pretty lost. They often don't realize it though, especially after liberal doses of antidepressants and lots of TV. The difference is that some people realize they are confused, and others are just confused.

Maika: Yippee, thanks for telling me I'm not alone with this problem. Anyway, I've read some koans (short stories) about Zen. I'm particularly interested in them but I've read somewhere that it should only be undertaken with a teacher.

Trina: Yeah, I think the whole koan thing is supposed to unfold within a teacher-student relationship, at least traditionally. Too bad eh? I believe that it was traditionally a teaching kept from seekers until they were ripe for it. First they had to strive, and be confused, and yearn for liberation, and such. But today, anyone can access any information via mass media and the internet. And though it's wonderful, there is a danger insofar as esoteric truths have become too easily available.

Maika: What do you exactly mean by this danger?

Trina: Should one sit and strive and work... or should one simply realize that the way to be free is to stop struggling, stop striving, and to simply be present? Can one really realize what it means to be present unless one first fully believed that one could work one's way to such a state and pursued it with complete focus and determination? The esoteric teaching is to be revealed when the seeker is at the end of the line, and has exhausted him or herself. One must try and work and struggle in order to realize the opposite release. Then one can really realize what it means to stop struggling, stop trying to do anything, stop getting lost in will. I am afraid that if a seeker encounters these more esoteric teachings before first believing in the necessity for work and struggle in order to be free, and then working for this freedom with all one's power, he or she will think they have the answers but not really get the essence of it all.

Maika: Well-explained. But what does “to be present” really mean? Sometimes, it’s so difficult to stop struggling and to stop striving when we think of our future plans. It’s hard to let go of our priorities, of our attachments, of our concerns. Guess I still can’t answer that question for I haven’t searched for its essence yet with complete focus and determination. You see, even when I’m walking alone, I think, I dream, I smile, I get sad…I can’t get myself focused with the idea that I’m just walking. =(

Trina: I really don't know what it means to be present. Maybe one can be present in the midst of the arising thoughts, dreams, and the rest of it. Sometimes I think I understand what being present means better than at other times. When I have one of those moments, it usualy seems from that perspective that my previous understanding was totally off. Maybe there will come a time when it is realized so completely that there is not longer any doubt or slipping back into patters or maybe it's a kind of asymptotic limit that we can approach but never rest it. It might be all about the journey.

Maika: You told me before that you like travelling, that you enjoy living on the road and now knowing too much about what the future will bring. This seems so adventurous of you. I understand the excitement but I don't know why it brings to me an idea that you're searching for somthing. Hmm...I may be wrong though. This may be just your way on how to enjoy life. I wish I had the heart to explore life more bravely.

Trina: Well, you've got a good intuition that I am on a search. I first hit the road in search of "enlightenment," and everything since has been a continued unfolding from there. Things have twisted and turned, but there is an underlying yearning for clarity, insight, peace, love, community, spontaneity, creativity, and environmental balance. In a sense, the journey has also evolved into a great way to enjoy life. I truly love the way it has allowed everything to unfold. It's feels quite magical sometimes. At some point, I may settle down, at least for part of the year. But someday, I would like to sculpt my own home, grow my own food, make my own art, and live a sane life in balance.

Maika: I remember an idea I learned long ago. That people should work not for money but for personal satisfaction. That workers should be one with their jobs, not alienated. I admire you for having this desire. You haven't been consumed by the material world. You know where you are going. I hope you'll get there someday. Lucky you! Me, I'm still confused.

Trina: Thanks a lot. I hope you'll be able to lay out things for your future as well.

Maika: Thank you. I appreciate this conversation. I really learned a lot. It's like a tap of idealism. It reminds me that there are still people out there, searching for the real meaning of life.

Cranified!

2011-04-26T14:52:00.008+09:00

I used to describe Dan and I as a couple with happy feet. When we were still oceans apart, distance had always necessitated us to walk, ride and even fly to meet at a rendezvous. Besides, one of the things that bind us together is our love for adventure and traveling. Though I'm the planner type and he's the spontaneous one, we still end up climbing mountains, trekking, mapping cities, exploring countrysides and beach bumming together.

On our wedding day at St. Jude Thaddeus Church in Apas, Cebu City, we decided to take it to a higher level. Instead of footprints, we picked out the idea of wings

of cranes.

Cranifying the most photographed day of our lives was a brainchild of the artsy couple, Nonon and Yowee. And me, having been to Hiroshima and having seen thousands of strings of colorful cranes from all over the world, nodded in a flash. The story of Sasaki Sadako is inspiring and beautiful. When she folded cranes after the atomic bombing, she hoped for peace. When we folded cranes for our wedding, we hoped we could make it all the way together.

Because of reasons I'd rather not enumerate here (and bore you), we decided to have it exactly a month ago, instead of August this year. Dan and I didn't have the luxury of time for the preparation. We had a craazzzzy schedule. I went to work at daytime and earned education units at nighttime. Good thing we have so many friends who took a slice of our huge pie of stress. You see, it wasn't only our wedding day. It was everyone's.

Working on our low budget, creative minimalism and supportive people were on our side. In this blog, I'd like to thank everyone. Again. For ~~helping us out~~ letting us bug, pester, annoy (and any other synonymous word) them. Hiring a wedding coordinator could have been much easier but with them working with us to the goal made our big day possible and of course, practical :D

SALAMAT

Daddy Danny, Mommy Suyna, Papa Fred, Mama Carmen, for giving us your blessings to enter the sacrament of matrimony, for your all-out support, for understanding, for acceptance, for everything.

To our bridal entourage, thanks for accepting and doing your role in the liturgy.

Nonon, for conceptualizing the decors for our wedding reception, for lay outing our wedding invitation, for folding paper lilies for the bouquets and corsages, for the best man's toast and for being so calm despite the pressure.

Yowee, for your elegant yet easy-to-do inputs, for learning how to fold cranes, for rolling our origami paper giveaways, for being our florist and one of our emcees. You truly deserved to get the bouquet because you're capable of loving a man unselfishly.

Jaq, for finalizing the reception program, for preparing tacos for our meeting, for finalizing the venue set-up with us. Though we just met last December, you didn't hesitate to assist us in so many ways. It's a shame I didn't witness you sing at Julia's. Tsk!

Dessa, for the cake, for checking out the reception venue with us, for walking with me to different hotels, for entrusting to me your little secret.

Pina, for the make-up. After so many dry runs, your hard work excellently paid off. By just looking at the pictures, everyone noticed your talent that could be a key to your new career. Thank you for making me look and feel beautiful that day.

Ice, for allowing Pina to practice on your face :D , for giving a lift to some of our guests to the church, for preparing our giveaways and for bearing the mess in the living room.

Mike, for painting the crane sticks, for helping Dan with the frames for our parents and principal sponsors, for taking charge of the music during reception.

Ryan, for being our coordinator at the church, for supervising the arrangement of flowers, for babysitting Leo and for taking care of my aunts and parents. I know I can always count on you, training buddy!

Carlo, for being the official driver of the couple, for preparing the venue, for the vitamins you gave us that morning, for suggesting that the bridal car flower should be on the left side. It's uniquely wonderful.

Leah, for coming all the way from Davao City to be one of our official photographers and for being an instant make-up artist. We're really sorry if I was not on time for the pictorials. I'm such a sleepyhead. My bad, I know.

Sam, for taking photos of us in the rain, at the church and at the reception, for helping in preparing the venue.

Apiong, for taking photos along with Leah and Sam and for bringing your helpful photography gadgets. After that McDo conversation, I should also thank you for simply attending our wedding. Even if Haru wears that naughty pants again, I promise I will not kick her ass.

Philgin, Nikko, Makmak for taking more photos.

Ulan, for not coming out of Mommy Rei's tummy before our wedding day.

Tang and Joji, for taking video clips. I still have to discover the videographer in me and combine your outputs.

Cecil, for taking charge of our final payments, for bringing fancy and colorful origami paper from Japan for our giveaways. As you know, we inserted a diagram on how to fold a paper crane inside. They look lovely.

Eds, Archie, Insoy, Ongkii for serenading our guests during dinner. Life is boring without music indeed.

Jess, for transporting the flowers from the church to the reception.

Msgr. Abel, for presiding our wedding vows, for answering our concerns regarding church requirements.

Jen, Liyah, Marife, for being our liturgical readers.

Kai, for telling everyone that love is patient and love is kind, for passing the guest book from one table to another.

Miss N, for your surprising presence.

To our families and friends from Canada, Japan, USA, Manila, Bacolod, Dumaguete, Bohol, Cebu and Davao, to those who took a day off from work, to our colleagues, to everyone who witnessed our vows, thank you for celebrating love with us.

To our cousins and friends who paid for somebody else's airfares, to those who wished to attend (especially to Ate and Kuya) but couldn't, to those who prayed, to those who sent gifts, your absence doesn't mean you love us less.

THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING. You made us feel well-loved.

The Troll Family

2011-04-19T12:38:00.008+09:00

Big changes do happen in a span of a week.

March 25. Yowee, Kikit, Dan, Mike and Nonon were busy preparing for the wedding.

March 26. Dan and Kikit got hitched.

March 27. Mike left for his training in Manila.

March 28. Kikit and Dan left for Bacolod with Nonon.

March 29. Kikit and Dan headed for Dumaguete.

March 30. Nonon went back to Cebu after packing his things in Bacolod.

March 31. Nonon left for Dubai.

April 3. Kikit and Dan reunited with Yowee, missing Nonon and Mike.

Howie and Jobie

2011-04-16T22:24:00.022+09:00

The Love Story

Let me ask this question. Isn’t it amusing that you wake up one day with a decision to totally embrace a stranger in your life?

Take for instance this man who was raised in Panabo, who grew up with dog fur as his comforter, who can never exist without a bottle of rubbing alcohol, who excels in tinkering and troubleshooting gadgets, who has always reckoned motherly love as something special

and this woman who grew up in the Queen City of the South, who treats the department store as her second home, who thinks life isn’t complete without her powder, who’s blessed with dexterity for arts and crafts, who charms friends with her sweet notes and little gifts.

They met at the bridge of text messages, willed to go the distance to be in the same city and made their vows in the eyes of God.

Now let me rephrase the question. Isn’t it mysterious that love can make one accept both the terrific and terrible aspects of the other?

That man actually thinks his partner has an appetite of a blue whale, a tummy that gets more and more curves every day, a huge cabinet to carry when they travel and eloquence in speaking English in her angriest state. But still he considers her as his pillar of strength for she can go against the tide to prove her loyalty and her outstretched arms are always ready for her loved ones.

On the other hand, that woman in reality loathes the way her partner drags his feet and insists that his ideas are exceptional. But each time he nurses her or prepares kinilaw, patutin or sinugba for their meal, her heart just melts because she senses it’s his sweet way of proving his faith in their relationship is unfailing and his love despite her idiosyncrasies is unwavering.

Now let me restate the question again. Isn’t it silly that you take a step out of your three-decade home to kick off a lifetime journey with somebody you’ve known for a few years?

Well, that couple have already shared a lot. They have smelled the sand of Samal, eyed the hills of Bohol, looked for ghosts in Siquijor, walked along the huge trees of Dumaguete and strolled the outskirts of Davao and Cebu. In between these travels, they’ve come to realize the monsters and angels in them. They’ve known each other so well they can be both best friends and worst enemies.

Nobody can really tell when the relationship is ripe enough for it to be taken to a higher level. After all, marriage is a leap of faith, a fall into the unknown, a risky dive into the deep blue sea. But once you understand that love is sometimes amusing, sometimes mysterious and sometimes silly, then you’re on your way.

Howie and Jobie just got there.

***

Getting married? Let me write your story and get a simple AVP for free.

Lovelier

2011-04-14T14:15:00.005+09:00

"Get your mom a plastic spoon," the mother requested. They were intertwining lego blocks to create a dining table with three chairs, one for her, one for her husband and one for her playmate, her two year old clever son. They imagined they were about to eat a sumptous meal and they needed mini-spoons.

I've never known them all my life until I signed three copies of the lifetime contract that cloudy Saturday afternoon. Officially and instantly, I became a member of a warm clan from Negros Oriental. That was also the reason why I had the chance to stare at the mother and son tandem closely, from the hammock hanging between two Talisay trees said to have crawling catterpillars. My new-found family got together to commemorate the death anniversary of an aunt-in-law I'll never shake hands with. It was a beautiful sunny day, as lovely as the scene in front of me. Even if lego blocks are quite off

at the beach.

The thing with that little band around your weakest finger is that it's twinned with huge changes, which at that time hasn't totally sunk in yet. But at that hammock swing, while hearing the splash of big waves, the music from the cottage and the chitchat of other beachgoers, it dawned on me that I didn't only marry a man. I marry a world, partially unveiled, partially unexplored. And since that world comes in all tenses, it simlutaneously simplifies and complicates the known, fires up and exhausts days, strengthens and weakens souls.

"Let's eat!" invited the son after handing the pink spoon to his mother.

Cute, I thought.

Turning my gaze around, I saw my ex-boyfriend who was about to dip. I winked, stood up and joined him. It made that beautiful sunny day lovelier.

Second photo by Nikko.

Dear Heaven,

2011-03-25T17:30:00.005+09:00

Please don't cry tomorrow.
Give us some sunshine.
It will be our first time to go to the chapel of love.
Yup, there's no next time.

Hush your sorrow.
Please don't cry tomorrow.

The woman in me,
Kikit :)

Y

2011-03-22T09:57:00.001+09:00

"It will be his first time to go somewhere without me. Please take care of him," your mother concernedly said to me in broken English. I could feel how worried she was about you. And with how you would behave without her.

Who wouldn't be? You wailed like a blue whale, so loud we had to cover our ears, get panicky. What made it more irritating was the niggling reason behind it: your mom was already two steps away from your seat in the classroom. Yep, just that. This was the main reason why I was apprehensive when I took over your class from a teacher who quit. The boss said this tantrum is normal for a three-year old boy like you. But then I didn't quite understand why unfamiliarity with the environment causes so much stress to children, why teachers have to deal with stranger anxiety patiently. I didn't know how to handle your dependence to your mother.

Until the day we went to a crocodile park.
Until the day your mother entrusted you to me.

A few days before the school trip, I remember you were bright-eyed about it. We did a crocodile craft with recycled green-painted egg cartons. After such, we played a song whose lyrics I didn't understand, acted like crocodiles with its fast rhythm and ran after one another. In that art class, you were fond of that animal, thought it was very amusing. You didn't even mind being thrown to the crocodile's pond...

until you saw how ugly and sleepy-eyed they looked like in the water,
until you held my hand tight and didn't let it go.

I wore an imaginary medal because you didn't sob that whole afternoon. But what made the cake sweeter was the icing I have tasted afterward. Little by little, you had confidence in me. Imagine how surprised I was when you waved goodbye to your mother after dropping you off at school one day. You learned to loosen the knot of attachment, something that made me proudly smile from ear to ear.

Knowing how little adults' childhood memories are, I bet you will forget me soon. I don't think you will remember how I jumped for joy when you learned how to hold a pencil, when you understood you should not color outside the circle, when you recognized the first letter of your name, when I noticed you can already carry a conversation in English. These memories will soon fade into the background as you will meet new classmates and have another favorite teacher. And even if hurts me that you won't totally appreciate that you are my milestone, it's alright because you learned to

let go and go on,

something that I should start redoing, after the whole class sang Skinamarinky Dinky Dink and gave me a nice plaque, a wonderful cake, a wonderful collection of drawings of my face and lots of warm hugs.

I will miss everyone, especially you.

Horror

2011-03-14T23:07:00.007+09:00

2009. I insisted Ate Wilma would take us to the coastal area near their place and we saw

life.

Same year. I went to Matsushima in Sendai with Papa and Cecil and saw

beauty.

Fast forward to March 11, 2011. Mama informed: Tsunami in Japan, including Fukushima. Please contact your siblings as soon as possible.

I googled and found a scene we are familiar of in a film. It was fiction. But in real life, it is

horror.

J, it's really hard, especially this time. Let them be safe, please.

The Duel: The Reason (Part 5 of 5)

2011-03-13T16:21:00.001+09:00

“So did you discover the reason?”

“Yeah. Read the letter I sent to you.”

To the image on the mirror,

Thank you for acting as my devil’s advocate. I’m not sure if you mean to be like that but I certainly enjoyed your horns. They usually prick me down. Good thing I’m shielded with the contradictory force.

I got baffled with the harsh realities you mentioned. I also admit I got weary and stressed many times the last couple of months. I had a job to keep and most of my vacant time was spent on lesson planning, preparation of materials, checking of test papers, etc. I complained about my restless nights, strained throat and tired feet but each time I saw my students, I only said,

the experience was all worth it.

My first-hand experience at a public high school gave me all the opportunities to rediscover everything I’ve learned from my professors – from the theories down to the suggested fashion for teachers. And it’s good because I was in the process of

relearning.

If one doesn’t relearn, that means one hasn’t learned, can’t unlearn and
will never learn at all.

Smiling,
The woman facing the mirror

“Thank you.”

“For the letter?”

“For considering that the coin has always two sides.”

The Duel: On Tests and Evaluation (Part 4 of 5)

2011-03-12T16:17:00.001+09:00

“They follow the 75% standard rate.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“It’s the school’s standard…”

“That isn’t well implemented. Remember the time your mentor got upset because some students of a class stood her up on the day they were supposed to take the periodical exam? Those students came to her and begged to let them take it during cleaning time and she gave in. She handed out the test paper and they answered it anywhere they preferred. Even if they got a perfect score, you cannot say it was reliable because all the variables affecting the test were not even controlled.”

“She didn’t have much of a choice. She needed to submit the grades for the third grading period. Aside from that, she is aware that the school doesn’t have a lot of high-performing students. If she strictly implements the standards, nobody will make it. And as their teacher, she will be put to blame. That’s a dilemma that is easier to solve in theories than in actuality. It’s quite stressful to handle.”

“Don’t try to defend her. You’re not her lawyer and we’re not in a court.”

“No, I’m not. I can’t say she is lenient. In fact, only five to six students of that class passed in the third grading period because she thought they deserved it. They didn’t submit other requirements and she ended up flunking them.

“Uh-huh.”

“Hey, I got your point. That’s why when I administered the quiz, I told the class I will deduct 5 points if I catch them cheating. It was a threat as I know cheating is commonplace at that school.”

“Did you succeed?”

“I guess so. They had different answers. I made sure my voice was stern enough for them to be warned.”

“So you were happy?”

“Not exactly. The students didn’t get good grades, even the students from the first section. Many failed to meet the standard. If I draw the curve, it will be skewed to the right. I felt really bad. My initial reaction was they didn’t understand my lesson. What was worse was I couldn’t discuss the answers because of limited time.”

“Isn’t cheating the answer to your problem?”

“One problem can’t be solved by another.”

“You’re being idealistic.”

“I’m just concerned of the students’ welfare. But who can afford to be honest this time? Maybe it’s true, that the mouse will play when the cat is away. You see, I once asked them to submit their pamphlets and checked their answers on the exercises and many of them had the same answers. It seemed like the class only had two to three sources. What was more heartbreaking was, in a third year class, three students just photocopied the pamphlet of a classmate.”

“Of course they changed their names!”

“It was a slap on my face. They didn’t even change the answer to the question about their dreams. They all wanted to be lawyers.”

“Ugh!”

“I was tempted to deduct ten points from the cheaters and five points from student who allowed cheating. I thought they deserved to fail. But since all of their classmates almost had the same answers, I shrugged off the idea. I just asked them to change their answers to the personal questions.”

“Tolerance is not always the solution. Look at our dear country. In the Philippines, do all jaywalkers suffer the consequence? Are all corrupt politicians ousted? Are all abductors and child traffickers imprisoned? No, because they aren’t caught. And you, as a teacher, are subtly telling them that it is alright by allowing cheaters to pass.”

“I don’t disagree. It’s just that I wanted their honesty to be rooted from within, not because of harsh punishment. That is longer lasting. I didn’t let this situation just pass. The kids had a word from me and they looked somehow remorseful.”

“Knowing today’s youth, I hope even one of them truly understands your intention.”

“Crossing my fingers.”

The Duel: The Leaners (Part 3 of 5)

2011-03-11T16:14:00.000+09:00

“I am used to little children greeting me ‘Good morning, Teacher!’ the first moment they enter the preschool and see me. In my practicum, my second and third year high school students are already grown ups.”

“Taller and bigger than you, huh? Not anymore gullible, can’t be fooled with stickers, toys, stamps and bubble activities.”

“True. I handled junior high school students before and that experience instantly became my main reference, aside from the inputs of my professor in Child and Adolescent Development subject. I had to think of different and creative strategies fit to their age to get rid of boredom.”

“You felt insulted when you saw some of the ladies and gays taking out mirrors to put on some powder or make up, didn’t you?”

“Any teacher would. But it was alright as they didn’t do it the whole period. It seemed rude to me at first but on the hindsight, it could be as natural as preschoolers getting distracted with toys. You know, adolescence is a time of heightened self-consciousness.”

“Narcissistic loud brats, aren’t they? I noticed that when they chitchatted with their seatmates instead of giving their full attention, it got into your nerves. They end up asking the same questions and you’re like a broken disc repeating the same answers.”

“I reminded them to listen or I simply zipped my mouth to convey the underlying message. But then I’d like to emphasize ‘strategies’ again. Activities work really work well for them. If you can just identify and facilitate an activity that’s perfect for the lesson, they’d stop talking and they’d awaken their sleeping brains.”

“They were very active only when you played games. Couldn’t you see they were just after of the fun?”

“Haha. I remember the time the third year classes made their BINGO cards. It was the quietest moment in the classroom. The students really concentrated. But hey, I didn’t sacrifice content. I made sure they learn something while having fun.”

“Hmm, they were just after of the points. Your point system strategy made them attentive. Your students were extrinsically motivated as they merely wanted the prize at the end of your stay with them.”

“You’re probably right but it helped a great deal. Thanks to BF Skinner, there was more participation, more raising of hands. Besides, the bookmarks I gave as prizes were meaningful to me. I had some favorite pictures I’ve taken from my wanderings developed. I added strings to convert them to bookmarks. I was glad to hear they loved it. It was sharing a part of who I was.”

“I’d say it was sharing a part of your pocket.”

“It was also a way of thanking them for giving me the opportunity to learn from them and the feeling of fulfillment that they learn something from me. Their economic status is far from the status of the families of my former Japanese students and current Korean kids. They have different priorities, different needs. I’d say was a nice encounter.”

“You really believe they learned something from you?”

“I regret that I had limited time with them. I only taught three times to second year high school students. My fourth lesson with them was canceled because of their review for RAT. For my third year classes, I taught them only four to seven times, depending on the schedule. I fervently hope they learned something from me even if we were together for just a short time.”

“Perhaps they’ll remember only your 3L (Listen, Learn, Live) policy you discussed during your self-introduction.”

“If that’s the case, I’d be very happy.”

Blowing Bubbles

2011-03-10T20:09:00.001+09:00

S doesn't always express her bliss.

So imagine how happy I was

when I was able to capture this.

The Duel: The Learning Environment (Part 2 of 5)

2011-03-10T15:11:00.001+09:00

“Noisy.”

“Challenging.”

“Oh. c’mon. Adjacent to the school assignment is the city sports complex that plays loud music, in front of it is one of Cebu’s main streets and you don’t even describe the school noisy? Your mentor even told you that the structure makes the situation worse. The classrooms are facing each other so the noise from one classroom is easily heard by the students in the other.”

“If I have let myself be dejected by the school environment, I would have failed since the day I stepped into the school. I was aware that I was going to have my practice teaching here and I have prepared myself for it. I don’t think it’s the worst teaching scenario in the Philippines.”

“Oh, yeah! I know you’re referring to those teachers who need to mount hills and cross rivers just to get the regular position. Those who sometimes have to teach students under the tree or handle two grade levels in one classroom. That certainly sucks!”

“They embrace their profession, even if it’s wearing sacrifice. But me, I didn’t have to put on their shoes. The school is very convenient, just a ride away from my workplace. What more could I ask for?”

“Then why did I hear complaints after three long straight hours of teaching in a dim and poorly ventilated? Didn’t you mumble it felt like you were always competing with the noise and there’s always a need to shout just to let the student at the back hear you?”

“I just needed water, a lapel and of course a nice strategy.”

The Duel: The Challenge (Part 1 of 5)

2011-03-09T14:43:00.004+09:00

“In the first place, you should haven’t enrolled yourself this semester. You could have focused on your review for the Licensure Examination for Teachers (LET) this April.”

“Coming to Cebu and finishing the Diploma for Professional Education (DPE) course is part of the original plan. This practicum is the highlight. Why disobey the blueprint for my career path?”

“Because there’s a shortcut to getting the license. In fact, it’s the trend of most DPE takers. Don’t you envy they’re now almost done with the review and will become professional teachers in a couple of months?”

“I admit I am. I was told I was going to be exempted with my five years experience in teaching.”

“You thought. You thought. Only Jesus knew Judas would betray Him. But you’re not a God. If you have only confirmed it, you don’t have to stall taking the LET.”

“When I decided to take the road less traveled, I thought there’s a reason for this. A reason not known to me. A reason only fate and time could reveal.”

“In Psychology, we call that kind of defense mechanism, rationalization.”

“For Dewey, it’s called learning by doing.”

“Hah! You don’t intend to teach at a high school. Your passion is with the preschoolers, with nursery rhymes, with monster games, with singing, dancing, laughing and tickling necks and armpits. There’s no need to divert your path. You’re just wasting your time, your effort, your money.”

“Only if I refuse to learn.”

“One thing more, you’re not really comfortable teaching Values Education (VE). I think you only placed yourself in a state of agitation.”

“VE is not a difficult subject. Unlike math and science subjects, you have to review the concepts and theories to be able to teach. But for VE, the older you get, the more experience you have, the more ‘wisdom’ you gain, the more you can share to your students. Finding ideas, motivational concepts and activities are easy as well because everyone can relate. But...”

“Hey, let me remind you that the Professional Regulation Commission (PRC) has a law that Psychology majors earning units in education will have VE as their major subject. It has already been decided. What’s the fuss, sweetie?”

“It’s just that I don’t like telling people what’s right and what’s wrong especially in a country with so many imperfections. You tell him it’s great to follow his dream of becoming a doctor but his family can’t even get to eat hotdogs. You tell her to painstakingly perform her future job but the unemployment rate is unsolvable.”

“Nah, I know you just don’t want to teach in Filipino.”

“I can’t help but chuckle. That’s one thing I have in common with one of my mentors. Forgive us, Rizal.”

“So that’s your main issue?”

“Nope. The language issue can be easily managed. I don’t hate the VE subject, either. Although passing it is just equivalent to 0.6 credits and although it’s not measured in aptitude tests, I acknowledge its significance in every move we make. Our values encompass everything. Our values make or break us. What makes me hesitant to teach it is the huge gap between the ideal and the complicated reality the Filipinos are in.”

“Don’t exaggerate. Carrying the burden of the entire Philippines is Aquino’s job this time.”

“Precisely. That’s why when I accepted the challenge, I just told myself, ‘Baby, it’s time for learning and playing again! Whoopee!’”

Sound Sleep

2011-01-18T00:37:00.011+09:00

A happy man. A long-haired woman. Staring and smiling at each other.

He wondered why they had appeared in his dreams three times. There's nothing wrong with the scene, it just didn't make him comfortable. Seemingly waking up from a nightmare, he tried to kick but found the air unsupportive. It was too soft, almost useless. He wanted to hit something solid, something hard, so he'd wake up from his slumber.

With eyes still closed, he clung to his pillow in a foetus position. Feeling the coolness that calmed him, he tried to analyze his dream. If Freud theorized every dream was a fulfillment of a wish, why did he feel uneasy? If it was all about the perplexity of the total unconscious, who cared? In the middle of that night, everybody was soundly sleeping, some were even snoring. So he indulged in being a simpleton and it was far more consoling.

He simply wanted to suspend consciousness for a few hours. So he counted his blessings rather than sheep. It was ineffective for it made him too happy to drift off. He saw faces who love him, he remembered moments that charged him up. He resorted to numbers instead.

One, two, three, four, five... He fell asleep.

Yes, numbers are boring. But helpful.

The 5th Big Day

2011-01-17T22:20:00.001+09:00

The number of writing materials multiplied. So did happiness.

Hey, Tang!

2011-01-07T23:20:00.000+09:00

So you went to the church to tie the knot with her? Well, let me tell you a secret about her: she's a poor listener.

At first, she makes sure she is heard.

Then, she dozes off.

Finally, she occupies the sofa as her own bed.

Trust me, I've experienced this twice. So if you want the microphone all by yourself for two hours on an empty stage, you made the right decision. But if you're expecting an avid fan, I'm sure you'll have regrets.

Ces, right? :D

Pagtitipon

2011-01-01T23:13:00.010+09:00

Kay ang matag usa kanato usa ka dahon
Sa punoan nga nagpadayon sa pagtubo
Bisan pa sa kalisod og sa kawad-on
Nagkahiusa sa paggakos sa Ginoo

If you get to know me deeper, you'll know that I belong to a big loud clan. And I'm proud of that. We usually have our annual family reunion on December 30 but since it was declared as a regular working day, we had it yesterday, on the last day of the year. With my loved ones all around me, I just think it was a splendid way to end 2010.

This time, my family's the host so all of us, my three siblings and I, took a vacation and spent the holidays at home. Everyone's hands were quite full for this event: from the concept making to doing the dishes. I was tasked to finalize the program for this whole day affair. Oh, it wasn't really that hard as we already knew what to expect: family presentations, games, exchange gifts, raised voices, loud laughter and so much fun!

I made two slideshow of pictures for the whole gang. One talks about a strong bond among kindred spirits. With the assistance of my cousins, I compiled both ancient and new pictures and added "Isang Taong Lumipas" by Ryan Cayabyab as the background music. With the moving lyrics, it sent us a feeling of nostalgia to moments in the past, those moments that steer us to get together once in a while.

The other one is for my cousins who are working abroad. Year after year, it's sad to see that the number of attendees is dwindling because of the need to seek for greener pasture. And because Christmastime is considered a peak season for airline companies, sometimes it's impractical to spend it at home. So I compiled the photos they've taken while they were away and used Babalik Ka Rin by Gary Valenciano. We miss them as much as they miss us.

After the reunion, everyone was tired and they all went to bed early, except Dan and me. We stayed in the veranda, singing songs to the top of our lungs. Thanks to the "magic sing" my brother rented that day, haha. I think we kept our neighbors awake because a few minutes before New Year struck, my eldest sister thought we needed to rest. Just when we finished cleaning up our mess, our neighbors horned, blew the trumpets and made noise to welcome 2011. So we greeted everyone who was awake before getting absorbed in dreamland.

May we all have a wonderful 2011 and beyond!

Gulped

2010-12-10T01:20:00.005+09:00

I was, and still am, never good at history.

It was my weakest subject at school. I have amnesiac tendencies when it comes to memorizing historical dates and chronicling events. Please spare me from your questions about how civilization developed from Mesopotamia and the events before we can conveniently tuck a photo or a music player in our pockets. You see, I just thank God for my functional short-term memory. Without it, I could have flunked my exams.

Oh, I know it’s important. Everyone asks about it. Doctors ought to know about the patient’s medical background. Teachers need to know about the student’s past performance. Researchers often include the history of a place to be featured on a magazine. Psychologists do case studies. Boy Abunda and Kris Aquino dig into the smallest details of a personality’s love affairs. Much has been written, much has been said,

because each person has an innate need to understand.

And because I’m not an ape, that doesn’t exclude me. That’s why when I’m in the mood, or in most cases when there’s a need, I google, I read, I listen. But there are times when I'm at the height of my ‘exploration’ when inconsistency became the antagonist. For instance, psychiatrists attempted to identify Van Gogh's mental illness differently and people had contradictory versions about Michael Jackson's pedophilia case. At times, the discrepancies between the poem and the story or the article and the photo are so obvious that I end up wishing I was the witness of the summer spree or crime.

But hey, I've learned to gulp them. After all, they make history more interesting.

Street Caroling

2010-12-08T23:06:00.006+09:00

Kindly read this post first.

Sing a song of gladness and cheer
For the time of Christmas is here
Look around about you and see
What a world of wonder this world can be!

First time. I was on my way to school when a couple of teenagers rode the jeepney I was taking. Pardon me for being judgmental but my first impression was they were black-hearted out-of-school youngsters who were deprived of so many things in life. Probably I wasn't the only passenger who felt that way for one of them said, "Ayaw lang mo kahadlok ha, dili mi mga dautang tao, gusto lang mi manaygon sa inyo (Don't be scared away, we aren't bad people, we just want to do caroling here.)" They started to sing, one even rapped. To be fair with them, they performed well but it didn't keep me from shaking like a leaf. I got off and took another ride.

Second time. It was an old man's turn. He didn't get inside, he just lousily sang Christmas songs at the entrance of the waiting jeepney. He looked like a weary pauper. Did he have a job when he was still an able man? Did he pay for his pension then? What about his retirement benefits? Can't his family take care of him now? Or does he live alone? I looked away. I feared. What if I'd grow old like him?

Campfire's Warmth

Third time. I noticed a group of six-to-eight children flocking at about 6:00 in the evening at an intersection I pass by every day. Two of them were in school uniform and the others were in their ordinary clothes. They were bringing something I used to have when I was as young as them: improvised tambourines made from flattened bottle caps. I was amused, some things don't change after all. But I taken aback when the traffic light signaled 'stop' and all of them rushed to waiting vehicles and caroled. They risked safety just to earn coins from other people's pockets. It crunched my heart to see them in a very dangerous situation.

My colleague and I talked with them one evening. "Why do you carol here?" I asked them. I hated myself for throwing a question with a very obvious answer but I was seeking for a surprising answer.

"For a few cents" was the gunshot answer of the boy in blue short pants. I was disappointed. It didn't surprise me at all.

The conversation went on for several minutes. And when I took a picture of them, they managed to smile from ear to ear. Despite everything.

Now I know where to pin my hopes on.

Sing a Christmas carol, sing a Christmas carol
Sing a Christmas carol like the children do
And enjoy the beauty, all the joy and beauty
That a merry Christmas can bring to you!

Y and J

2010-12-04T04:17:00.006+09:00

These kids taught their teacher that...

Dealing with children means 59 minutes of agony and 1 minute of happiness. The latter is the price that rubs out the former.

Earning the trust of a child is a great achievement. When stranger anxiety fades away, you don't only take a kiss or hug sweet but also fulfilling.

Scribbling is an art. Messy colors and aimless drawings are as interesting as Picasso's artworks. Abstract yet meaningful.

Innocence is powerful. It makes all why-questions answerable, clumsiness acceptable, mistakes forgivable and magic real.

Confession

2010-11-14T23:00:00.006+09:00

After my transaction at the City Hall, I decided to drop by the 16th-century built Sto Nino Basilica nearby. It's a historical landmark attracting different people - the devouts, the pretending-to-be-devouts, the travelers, the observers and the businessmen of all sorts. At the entrance, I opened my bag for the inspection the guards usually do. Yes, the church welcomes everyone, except bombers.

The first time I entered the said church, a vendor shouted, "Pagbantay sa mga mangunguot dira (Be careful of pickpockets!)" Then I was appalled at the thought that sinning inside His house is now a commonplace. But after seven months of living in Cebu, I'm already immune to warnings like that. Cebu is a beautiful rose. With its own thorns.

Magellan's Cross

I went in only to get out. There was a mass going on and it was too crowded for me. I ended up approaching Manang, one of the ladies clad in long red skirt, bright yellow blouse and rubber slippers. I bought a Php 10 candle from her not knowing what to do with it. While I was still unable to make up my mind, another customer bought a candle and they entered the chapel of Magellan's Cross right away. There she said an apparently memorized prayer for him and his loved ones. I noticed her saliva sprinkled. She was sincere, maybe. So I decided to let her say the prayer for me as well.

While waiting for Manang to finish, a child came and asked me to buy her sampaguita bracelet.

"Where's your mother?" I asked. That's a question I usually ask when I get to talk with street children.

"Selling water," she answered pitifully.

"Could you wait until the prayer is finished?" I requested.

I thought she would leave but she stood and waited a step beside us, her left hand on her waist and the other holding the sampaguita. She seemed pathetic yet bossy to look at. I thought something wasn't right. Something wasn't right.

After the prayer, she begged again. The candle vendors around us were already listening.

"I really need money for food."

"Can I buy you bread at that bakery instead?"

The vendors around us answered for her, as she didn't know the right words to say. They discouraged me to buy one for she wasn't really hungry, she just wanted money. Before I could react, a police officer entered the scene and all the sampaguita children instantly ran away, as if they were flies being shooed off. They know they are not allowed to loiter around the church.

I walked to the jeepney stop with a silent confession, "Father, forgive me for having not gone to church for a long time. And for being not guilty of such sin."

Are You Odd, Too?

2010-11-10T22:52:00.010+09:00

For the drinkers and non-drinkers, here's a summarized conversation (taken from this site) of a chapter of the book, The Little Prince.

The next planet the prince (P) visits is home to a drunkard (D). They have the following brief conversation:

P: What are you doing?
D: Drinking.

P: Why are you drinking?

D: To forget.

P: To forget what?
D: To forget that I'm ashamed.

P: What are you ashamed of?
D: Of drinking!

Little Prince, there are really a lot of odd people in our planet, literally and figuratively.

You can even count me in.

Or maybe we all are.

Dear Feet,

2010-11-09T00:16:00.008+09:00

Thank you for taking me to a room last June.

It's where I currently hang out during daytime on weekdays. About eight hours to be exact.

It's always filled with children messing up with sand, forming lego bricks and wooden blocks with their own imagination, reaching and throwing anything within their reach, cooking quick recipes, playing musical instruments without correct rhythm, dancing and singing with natural appeal, doodling abstract pictures, performing arts, folding paper, painting and coloring untidily, running, proving how egocentric yet charming they can be, tickling each other's waists, fighting, crying, complaining on the color assigned to them, laughing wholeheartedly at the corniest jokes, watching animated videos, listening to stories,

making roses with colorful clay.

It's where I am paid to work and play. Actually, play most of the time.

It's where I have to learn different cartoon characters, including Dooley and Astro Boy. Every time their theme songs are played, there's a need for me to wriggle my butt while smiling.

It's where I am reminded that happiness is cheap and tears are ephemeral.

It's where I met an experienced and assertive superior, who has mastered the art of teaching, who respects the autonomy of children, and who comes up with exciting and creative ideas on different themes. It's where I work with one of the most patient and cheerful people I've come across in the universe. He constantly wows me with his innovative designs, impresses me with his high spirits, and cracks me up with his sense of humor. It's where I see other colleagues getting in and out of the door, reminding me the art of letting go.

It's where I've come to appreciate more the developmental process introduced by Jean Piaget, the stimulating gifts of Friedrich Fröbel, the self-directed approach introduced by Maria Montessori and the list of Robert Fulghum. "Wash your hands before you eat" is now my favorite line.

It's where I experience what they emphasized, that teaching is both a science and an art,

even in arranging instructional materials.

It's where I face reality that bites, that the rich gets richer and the poor gets poorer. The few children I see every day have enough, more than enough, compared to 50 Filipino students stuck in a poorly-ventilated public school classroom with not enough resources. The former are full, in clean clothes, with sweet smell and nourished in all aspects while most of the latter are hungry, in worn hand-down uniforms and wet with sweat. They possibly have to sell sampaguita or kalamansi in the evening for the entire family.

It's where I've realized patience can get you somewhere. It can be a very far place, or an achievement, or a fulfillment.

Feet, it has been about six months now. No paragraph can summarize what I've learned.

Thanks a bunch,
Kikit :)

Buy a Postcard, Pay It Forward Entry

2010-11-04T23:45:00.001+09:00

After the success of Buy a Postcard, Pay It Forward, a fundraising project of Beyond Art’s Sake where photographers volunteered to have their favorite photos printed into postcards and sold to benefit Tsinelas Association, Inc. comes Buy a Christmas Card, Pay It Forward. This time, digital photographers and graphic artists are encouraged to share their photos and artworks in digital format to be printed into Christmas cards. Proceeds from the sale of the Christmas cards will be given to two non-profit organizations that help promote children’s rights to quality education and social justice: Tsinelas Association and Children’s Legal Bureau. This project also serves as a good venue for photographers and graphic artists to showcase their talent.

Project Proponent: Beyond Art’s Sake

Beneficiaries: Children’s Legal Bureau, Inc. and Tsinelas Association Inc.

Mechanics:

1. Any interested digital photographer and graphic artist is welcome to join.

2. Only one entry is allowed per artist.

3. Photographers and graphic artists should work around the theme: “Peace.Hope.Love.Children.Christmas.”

4. Entries should be in digital format, not lesser than A5 1748x2480 300dpi.

5. Entries will be posted in Beyond Art’s Sake Facebook page, album title: Buy a Christmas Card, Pay It Forward. Please add Beyond Art’s Sake in your Facebook page.

6. There will be two categories: Photography and Graphic Arts – all digital.

7. Beyond Art’s Sake will choose only twelve (12) digital photos/artworks based on the number of “Like” they will incur. Six (6) entries will be chosen for photography and six (6) for digital graphic art.

8. The digital photos/artworks with the most number of “Like” will be printed on Christmas Cards and sold in various establishments in Cebu City. Proceeds will go to Tsinelas Association and Children’s Legal Bureau, two non-profit organizations that promote children’s rights.

9. The photographers and graphic artists who will submit entries shall retain ownership of their photos/artworks.

10. Submit your entries to beyondartssake@gmail.com . Please include the following:

Subject: Buy a Postcard, Pay It Forward Entry

Name of Artist

Medium

Short description of your entry by completing this: “Christmas is…”

Webpage (or website where you post your photos/artworks)

11. The top twelve entry contributors will receive tokens from the organizers.

12. Entries should be submitted on or before November 14, 2010. All entries will be uploaded at the same time on November 15, 2010. Voting will begin on November 15 - 20, 2010.

If you have further queries, please email us at beyondartssake@gmail.com , leave a comment or text 09167970140.

Kids and Waves

2010-11-03T23:14:00.006+09:00

When you indulged yourself into the waves of the sea during childhood years, I bet you didn't care how you looked like.

Of such innocence I'm guilty too.

My recent trip to Siquijor served as a time machine that transported me to those days when flapping my legs and arms in the sea meant confidence in knowing how to swim. At Pasco's place, our home for a couple of days, we didn't only receive warm accommodation and munch hearty meals but also met instant playmates who bore the scorching heat of the sun just to swim.

Chang,

you are such a sweetie. You pose like your Mom, your pigtails charm me and your straightforwardness amuses us. I'm sure you'll insist of another trip to the island sooner than your sexy mother expects. In your next beach bumming, don't forget Ariel snoring in the plastic bag. She might bring you to her palace under the sea. And ei, I look forward to your 6th birthday party. You already invited us!

Miko,

I know you want to be a super hero. Which do you like better, Batman or Superman? Bluntly speaking, I don't see you as one but I find your humps cute and pinchable. If ever we meet again, I don't mind you visiting my room, jumping on my bed, assuming you're three years older than your age and showing me how strong you are. Just leave me some food. And don't punch me. Haha :)

Eunice,

I love the way your hair falls. I wish(ed) I could braid it. Thanks for walking with me to the seashore. And for telling me your secret that there was a hole in your pink leggings, around the bottom part to be exact. I know it made you self-conscious but let me tell you a secret: You are at a stage when anything you put on, no matter how lousy it is, is excusable. That's a perk of childhood. :)

Theo,

thanks for letting me play that pink mini-computer toy. Hangman was my favorite game, next to Making Melody. I'm not sure if offering you lotion (which you instantly grabbed) after the swim was a right decision. They say it's not a "boy" thing. I was startled when you admitted you prefer wearing sandals than shoes. Well, so do I. It's a choice darling. It's a choice.

Nonon and Yowee

2010-10-29T23:30:00.000+09:00

Nonon and Yowee,

Belated Happy Three!

I love sparklers
and I love you
both.

Watch that video
again
and be reminded
of Ogie,
your steps,
his wish,
my wish,

and OUR mess

in that hidden valley.
:p

Music Therapy

2010-10-27T22:50:00.002+09:00

I've often wondered how did it all start
who found out that nothing can capture a heart
like a melody can.

Some illnesses and miseries are cured by laughing out loud, by a swallow of a paracetamol or by maintenance drugs. Some are healed by spiritual intervention or confessed to the listening ear of a close buddy. Some are eased out by scribbling emotions on a page of a diary or painted creatively on a canvass. But some problems are simply lifted to the therapeutic effect of music.

All of us can most likely give a testimony on how effective it is. Many times we have felt so down in the dumps and our first resort was either turning the radio on, playing our favorite CD over and over again, going to a karaoke bar or wriggling our heartaches out in a discohouse like a worm. But what makes it more interesting is each of us has preferred dosage. Some of us opt to headbang with the heavy rock performance of Metallica while some would choose to meditate with the classical symphonies of Mozart and Beethoven. What is music to some is considered noise to others and vice versa.

I've met people who are musically intelligent, as how Howard Gardner would describe them. You sing the intro, they finish it for you. You give the title of the song, they tell you who sang it. You request for accompaniment, they readily hit the keys or strum the guitar. You sing the chorus, they do the second voice. And any kind of inspiration spurs the composition of an original melody with the most soulful or the silliest lyrics.

Admittedly, I don't belong to the club.

But I grew up with a heart for music.

When I was a child, Mama used to bring me in their choir practice at church. My Tita Juliet who loves listening to mellow music was the person who chiefly encouraged me to sing Somewhere Out There. When I was in primary school, Charo and Odette let me borrow tapes that introduced me to The Greatest Love of All and Making Love Out of Nothing at All. And when my brother started learning the guitar, I kept singing All My Life, as if It Don't Matter To Me. When I graduated from college, I was in the mood of watching concerts of local artists and went gaga over the performer who Never Said Goodbye. Last year, I often whispered to Jason's ears I'm Yours.

Though I know I'd have my greatest performance only within the four corners of a bathroom, or when I'm totally wasted, I'd consider myself one of those souls who cling to music when lightning strikes. And even if

I'm not so lucky
And I'm not a girl with golden hair
I still want to sing out to everybody,

Thank you for the music.

Who Killed Kindess?

2010-10-26T21:04:00.003+09:00

"If it's not Sunday today, I'm not returning this to you. Can't you give me Php 350.00?" demanded the taxi driver.

"Here. Thank you, Sir."

When we turned our back, I was grateful I got my cellphone back but felt sorry for the man who had just lost integrity, committed blasphemy and killed kindness.

Grateful

2010-10-10T19:01:00.006+09:00

Have you ever felt so grateful your cheeks got wet?

Yes, I have.
One night.

Splash

2010-09-29T06:00:00.001+09:00

Who doesn't

want to

have fun

with water?

Moony Moony

2010-09-25T15:21:00.006+09:00

I remember the huge poster at my cousin's place. It has a sweet little girl gazing at a crescent moon and a star close to it.

I remember the time I was walking home and saw the same view in the sky. I didn't feel I was alone. They kept me company. Magnificent company.

I remember the night I spent in Bantayan island. It was a cloudy night but the same crescent moon and star stood out and served as the only lamps up above. I lay down on the shore shirtless, wishing I was daring enough to remove the brassiere that was keeping me from feeling the therapeutic effect of the sand on my back completely.

Makes me look up***

I remember our dinner at Camotes island. I never thought how big a waxing crescent moon would be until we walked along the seashore to that restaurant by the sea. It was glorious.

I remember my evening flight from Shanghai to Manila. I sat beside a fellow Filipina who shared to me her cute love story with her boyfriend. While we were chitchatting, my attention was caught by the half moon I saw from the window. It seemed so near I wanted to catch it.

I remember the farewell dinner at Big Boy months ago. Before I went inside the steak shop, I took a picture of the waxing gibbous moon without knowing a driver was patiently waiting for me to finish so the car could pass. He didn’t use his horn at all to warn or rush me. I was (and still am) very grateful for it was the best lunar picture I’ve ever taken.

Amidst darkness

I remember the place at Mt View Resort where we watched the waning gibbous moon rose. I dozed off on his lap for a few minutes. When I got up, he was still brushing my hair with his fingers.

I remember the blackout last April. Papa, Mama and I went out of our house and were surprised to see the bright full moon. Papa told me he used to play “Buwan-buwan” under the moonlight when he was still a child.

I remember Japanese and Korean people who see a rabbit pounding rice cake on the surface of the moon. This is the rabbit who offered its life as sacrifice for a master. Considering this kindness as one of a kind, the master drew his figure on the moon for everyone to see.

I remember one autumn day I dropped by at a family park. The trees were colorful. The moon was in its perfect circle shape. No wonder witches would love to fly on full moon nights.

I remember the night I danced with him under the full moon. He gave in to my request. He stood up to be my dance partner. When I started wiggling my body, he also moved! Yes, he moved his hands, but never his feet. He calls it “statue dance”.

Dance under the full moon!

I remember the love story of a man and a woman who had feelings for one another but never had the chance to be together. She told him, “You are like the sun and I am like the moon. You shine at night, I shine at daytime.”

I remember his email about his trip to Bohol with his friends. He told me he swam at twilight, with the setting sun and the rising moon. The sun and the moon do meet, but it rarely happens. Rarely.

I remember the morning I saw the full moon at about 7:00 a.m. Again, the sun and the moon do meet, but it rarely happens. Most people don’t even notice it.

I remember my solitary trip to Takayama. We went to the gasshozukuri village after the concert for the night view. With the beaming full moon and the snow covering the roofs, pathways, trees and mountains on a cold, cold night, it was one of the romantic nights perfect for dating.

I remember the Sunday I went to Nagoya. I took a picture of the train station and the full moon looked like another manmade lamp.

Full moon in Nagoya

I remember a group of volunteers preparing for "Their Books" project. On the first night, they arranged books. On the second night, we painted the shelves. On the third night, we set up our corner at Ayala and had pizza and beer afterward. It was both rewarding and fun.

I remember our 2009 family reunion. With a bottle of beer on his left hand and the microphone on his right, he sang “Lover’s Moon” with the coin-operated karaoke machine. Even the blue moon above us was thrilled to hear him sing.

I remember my research on the phases of the moon. I had to understand the whole process because it was part of my lesson. You just can’t give what you don’t have.

I remember the children’s book about the man in the moon who saw his beautiful reflection on the ocean. Assuming his reflection to be another person, he requested the boy in the moon (yes there is in that story) to go down the earth and take that person with him. On the way down, though the boy met clouds, birds, kites, balls, planes, adults and children, he didn’t know who to bring with him until he fell down into the huge ocean. He found a mirror at the bottom, look into it and appreciated the reflection. What he needed to bring back home wasn’t heavy at all.

*** I adjusted the settings of my camera so the gray sky looked blue.

Parasitism

2010-09-19T23:43:00.006+09:00

Pregnancy is the only nurtured paratism .

-----

Happy one year older, Ate Rain and Anne!
May you continue to face the challenges of motherhood gracefully.

The Power of Five

2010-09-18T15:35:00.004+09:00

While chilling at the seashore with my cousins, Maan, Joy, Ayen, CJ and MJ in Bohol...

Can you carry Tita Kikit?"

"Don't drop me."

"There you go!"

"Yay, you did it!"

All photos were taken by Manong Mimi.

13 Months

2010-09-16T23:00:00.005+09:00

"If you see a shooting star, what will you wish?" I asked them yesterday.

"I wish all the stars would carry me back to Korea so I could see my Dad," she answered straightaway.

I've asked that question many times but nobody has answered me that way. Dreamy yet sincere. I couldn't help but admire how cute she was, the ribbon on her ponytail accenting her innocent face. But behind her amused small eyes, I felt longing. The longing brought by the hugeness of the ocean.

I tried to answer my own question but surprisingly, I couldn't think of one. The breakfast meal at McDonalds that morning and the person who I was with were all that came to mind. While I was watching him chew and swallow his food, an imaginary fairy whispered to my ear that everything is now real. That high and low tides are natural. That going up and down the ladder might be wearing but rewarding.

If I have heard my six-year-old student's answer months ago, my hanky might have been damp with driblets. I could empathize for sure. But yesterday I was simply contented we celebrated our 13th month together.

His Book, Their Books

2010-09-04T23:07:00.001+09:00

Geeks don't only read.

They also give books.

I just got one today
from a geeky blogger
known for his witty one-liners.

I hope to see him either in
Antique or Cebu.

Thanks for that early Christmas gift, Geek!

*****

And to all book lovers out there who want to clean up your shelves, why don't you participate in Their Books Project? It is an award-winning fund-raising project of Tsinelas participated in by writers, columnists, editors, musicians, painters, media practitioners, teachers, the academe, politicians and other prominent personalities in Cebu. These people are asked to donate books from their personal collections. The books are then put on sale for the public. Hence, the name “Their Books".

Barry

2010-08-02T23:46:00.006+09:00

I haven't been doing my regular visits at the blogs I follow for the past couple of months and I've missed a lot. I just read that Barry had his last breath on July 20, 2010. I feel so sad. He's simply one of the witty storytellers I've read.

New moon, new life

Rest well, Explorer. You'll surely be missed by people who may not know you personally but who love you dearly.

Leigh

2010-08-02T00:24:00.005+09:00

Dear Leigh,

I don't have much to tell about the real you. We weren't really that close. In fact, we were in different circles of friends way back. I think my most memorable moment with you was the first time I got sloshed and you were the one who paid for the booze. But I still would like to write this gratitude letter even if there's no guarantee that there's an internet connection in heaven.

Psych class

In life, we stumble upon people who we look up to and you belong to my list. There's no heroic reason for this. It's just that I appreciate your presence in our Psych class. It was your snap that pulled everyone to camaraderie. You were the link that connected and unified a bunch of psychotics. You were the instrument that made us feel it's great to be a part of S3 class.

Your passing, like Bianca's, came like a thief. Unexpected. Shocking. Thought-provoking. Never in our worst nightmares did we think we'd see you in your death bed at the age of 30. When I took a glimpse of you, I thought you were probably comfortable there because of your peaceful smile. But then, everyone was in the state of denial. Though the state of acceptance is a promise of time, we'll still continue to miss you. It's a sad feeling we all have to deal with until we hear your laughter again.

from dust to dust

Yep, we'll have our time too. For those who aren't prepared, that sounds frightening. For those who are ready, that sounds natural. But regardless our perception towards it, the universal truth remains the same: mortals are just borrowers of time.

We all know you're in a happier place for returning to dust also means eternal joy and complete freedom. In times of meaninglessness, weariness and restlessness, we might envy your state but while our expiration date is still about to come, your memories with us will remind us to live life to the fullest.

Until our next meeting, Leigh!

Thanks,
Kikit :)

p.s. I love your ladybug earring.

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

Leigh's 40th day with the Lord will be celebrated with a mass and prayer on August 11, 2010, 4:00 p.m. at San Pedro Memorial Park, Davao City.

Jay and Gwen

2010-07-23T23:51:00.005+09:00

This is a video I made for Gwen and Jay's nuptial last June 30, 2010. I had a promotional plane ticket for Davao then, I just didn't make it.

Photocopier. For most people, it’s a mere machine that efficiently duplicates documents. Little did we know that at times, it produces a clear copy of a person’s ultimate longing: the desire to love and be loved.

Gwen isn’t your ordinary sales person. She is the gorgeous, loyal and cool lady from Panabo who grew up with love for dogs, resistance to soft drinks and overflowing sense of humor that tickles your soles and armpits. Jay isn’t your typical service engineer either. He might throw you a stubborn look but he is responsible, sweet, patient and respectful to a woman’s needs and wants. When they met at Copylandia in October 2008, both were treading exclusive paths of romance but destiny magically rotated its wand to let them experience a feeling meant to last a lifetime.

For a little more than a year, their relationship has been enlarged by their traits that clicked. Though Gwen is the bubbly type and though Jay seems to be a man of few words, both of them appreciate the value of straightforwardness. It has also been reduced by their own shortcomings. Jay’s pestering gets into Gwen’s nerves and Jay isn’t amused with Gwen’s temperamental tendencies. It has also been copied in full colors by their happy memories. Both of them enjoyed the times they went on trips, met their friends and families or just spent the time idly with each other. It has also been produced in dull shades of black and white. It wasn’t easy for them to conquer threats and loneliness while they were oceans apart.

But through the highs and lows of their relationship, a powerful rope has tied them together seriously, tightly and firmly. Their love for each other stands out so beautifully that they decided to exchange vows for it. And those who have witnessed their passion only wish they'll never stop falling in love with each other.

-----

Gwen, I know it was my loss :(

Xiexie China, Xiexie Naoko (Part 3)

2010-06-23T23:46:00.007+09:00

Dear Naoko,

On our third day in Beijing, I appreciated the value of time even more. I really felt sorry that your morning was spent idly because I was sick in bed. Catching a cold was the least thing I expected and wanted in our trip but you had no choice but to nurse a sick companion. I missed sipping that hot honey-lemon drink you bought for me. Would you believe that even though it’s humid here in my country, I’m sort of craving for it? Yum-yum!

Bawal magkasakit!

Hey, thanks for accompanying me to a Chinese drugstore. It was such a good experience. We spoke English, they answered back in Chinese and yeah, we still got the right medicines! They weren’t easy to swallow, though. You saw me drank that brown round clay-looking medicine that smelled like herbal oil. But probably it was effective. My temperature went down and I could go out after lunch. Weee!

A pavilion in Forbidden City

The well-preserved Forbidden City (Palace Museum) was our next destination. Despite the gloomy weather, the place was crowded with tourists from all over China and the world. Some came in group tours and they either wore uniform caps or shirts for identification. We were both uncomfortable with the thought of walking in groups. We prefer to do it on our own though it meant choosing the harder way. I can really say you’re such an adventurous traveler. With your hardships and rib-tickling stories during your one-year journey in Australia, I take my hat off to you for being one of the bravest women I’ve ever known.

Naoko's jump shot

We had to pass through three huge gates before we arrived at the main entrance. With a history of over 500 years, many emperors have ruled there before. But when we got in, we were more awestruck with its size. We wondered how they utilized all the halls and pavilions within that area of 150,000 square meters. Ah, I can’t even remember all of them (blame it to my poor memory!). I remember a few catchy things though: the woman with a cool black thorny bag, the man who hugged a tree, the woman who modeled at the red long and high wall, your jump shot and our fake meditation pose. Chuckle :D

Shopping street in Beijing

After exploring the palace the whole afternoon, we went to a busy shopping street in Beijing. With tired legs, we dropped by at some branded shops but our final destination was that night market I had talked about to our Japanese students during our English class. I thought they only sell barbequed cicadas. There were even more exotic food there! I wish I could stomach silkworms, sheep penis, centipede, starfish, snake flesh, etc. The vendor kept asking me if I wanted to try centipede. Nah, I only wish I could.

Exotic food

We went back to our hostel and had another yummy dinner. And me? I still had to gulp lots of water.

Jump Papa!

2010-06-20T22:00:00.002+09:00

Papa,

If you hadn't forced me to turn down that opportunity, I would have missed these graceful (?!?!!!) jump shots in Bohol.

Tonight I'm so glad I listened to you then. Thanks a lot. Happy Fathers' Day!

I love you,
Kikit :)

Xiexie China, Xiexie Naoko (Part 2)

2010-06-12T23:40:00.003+09:00

Dear Naoko,

We got up early on the second day to climb the ever popular Great Wall. We were so disappointed with the drizzle we wanted to reschedule it but we didn’t have much of a choice. It was already arranged by the hostel and we were with other backpackers. So off we took that two-hour drive to the world heritage site we’d been dreaming of conquering for a long long time.

The Great Wall of China on a rainy day

Did you enjoy climbing it? I’m not sure if I did. I wasn’t in a perfect shape, I was cold but sweaty, my nose was running and most of all, the weather turned the tourist spot into gray scale mode. The fog just made the stretch of the wall invisible. Worse, it concealed the beauty of the mountains and the spring trees. All we could clearly see was the view within 200 meters from our point.

If I was slightly feverish, your face and feet looked tired. It seemed you were used to walking no more. But hey, I enjoyed chatting with you while mounting. I remember we talked about our favorite Japanese songs then. I told you I find Yamazaki Masayoshi a soulful acoustic guitarist and we even sang “One More Time, One More Chance”. And yeah, we also sang “Rain, Rain, Go Away” to attract sunshine. But it didn’t work out. Poor us! We should have asked Storm to change the weather in a wink.

Windows of war

In hindsight, the rain had a good effect on us. Since we could see only a part of the wall, we were able to focus on it per se. We were amazed at how the discipline, energy and determination Chinese people had to be able to build a long and high wall at a time when machinery was still out of hand. We gazed at the old bricks, looked up to the watchtowers and wondered how many people died while they were making it and at the time of war. I personally think conquering it was definitely a moving experience despite the disappointing conditions. The Great Wall is simply G-R-E-A-T!

Conquering a World Heritage Site

If time permits, I’d like to climb it once again on a clear fall day and let my eyes get drowned by the sea of autumn leaves. Before I just crossed my fingers for an opportunity to conquer it and I’m more than grateful it was granted. But this time, I’ll wish for more specifics. Who knows I’ll stumble upon a genie in a bottle one day?!

Kung Fu Characters

Though my colds worsened that night, we watched the Kung Fu play and I so love it I can watch it a hundred times. The story and lines were poetically deep and relevant and we couldn't help but drop our jaws at their acrobatic dance steps in sheer awe. The costumes were like the ones I see on movies and someone so childish of me got thrilled. I didn’t take photos because it wasn’t allowed. But you! You never cared about the rules and I wished I did the same. Send me evident copies of your obstinacy! Haha :p

With special guest, Kikit

After the show, we paid extra for a couple of photos with the characters. Yeah, I remember you giggled at my pose. All of you who were there!!! I'm not accusing you of being mean. My pose was hmm... ridiculously clumsy. But for the sake of stupidity, I'm glad I did it.

The time we got to our room, I resorted to water therapy. Too bad I couldn't drink a bottle of beer. I was secretly drooling at your booze! Tsk, tsk, tsk :(

Xiexie China, Xiexie Naoko (Part 1)

2010-06-09T22:40:00.001+09:00

Dear Naoko,

I’d like to thank you for coming with me to Beijing. If you hadn’t been there, I might have dwelled either on the sadness farewell brings or on the excitement of going home. So imagine how grateful I was when you went backpacking with me in this big promising city of China.

We arrived at about 1:00 p.m. in Beijing with a very foggy weather. I remember when we took that taxi from the airport, the fog grayed the bare trees quietly lining up along the main streets. When I first wanted to point out the nests I saw on many branches, you were already nodding asleep. That’s when I suspected I was on a trip with a sleepyhead like me. And with your white pocket calculator, I also reckoned it was going to be a thrifty adventure. Lol.

Naoko at Tiananmen Square

When the taxi dropped us near Leo Hostel, we didn’t know which street to follow for the first time. Since the map I got wasn’t as detailed as we wished, we had to ask some Chinese people around us. Do you remember the couple whom we first approached? Haha, I can still remember the disgust on the guy’s face and the way he dragged his partner and swerved their direction so they couldn’t entertain us. Good thing not all Chinese are like him so we were able to arrive at our hostel safely. Did I tell you my two backpacks weren’t that light as I thought? Or maybe it was obvious; you just didn’t lend a hand because the broken wheel of your luggage was a bit of a bother as well. Maybe we were two cute but pathetic travelers then. I can imagine that with chuckles.

Qianmen Da Jie at night

Our nook in Beijing turned out to be a very popular one among foreign travelers. Passable amenities, nice staff, luscious food, lively bar and most of all, very ideal location. Right after we checked in, we walked to Tiananmen Square, the widest in the world, where both locals and travelers flocked. Our eyes were occupied looking at the important buildings, monument and colorful temples nearby. We waited for the flag retreat regularly done by Chinese soldiers but I couldn’t even peak. It was just too crowded and my height wasn’t very helpful. I didn’t want to get through the crowd either. :p

Luscious Peking duck

That night we decided to have Peking duck for dinner. We walked to this Quan Ju De Duck restaurant recommended by the hostel staff. What we didn’t know was it was located at Qianmen Da Jie, a very famous walking street in Beijing. Though shopping wasn’t part of our plan, our eyes rolled at the evening glittering lights of branded shops there. That night, it wasn’t that crowded and people seem to walk relaxingly. The duck at the restaurant was indeed toothsome; no wonder why it’s sought after by travelers.

The time we got to our room, I wasn’t feeling well. My nose was stuffy and I was feverish. Ugh!

Gugma

2010-06-04T08:35:00.004+09:00

Sa pagsutoy sa bugnaw nga tubig gikan sa ipisan
Usa ka piskay nga ideya ang napamalandungan
Ang tao murag way sud nga basong naghandum
Nga mapuno ug gugmang langit ang kaayuhon

Sa paglad-ok sa tubig ang tutunlan nakasinati
Gugmang pait, tusok og hubag sa kinabuhi
Shagit ug dangulngol, luha niligid sa aping
Kangitngit, kasakit, kalibog gibati sa kasingkasing

Sa pagkahubas sa tubig adunay nahimamat
Sa gugmang naay kapakyasan nagpasalamat
Kay niusbong sa yuta ang semilyang gitanum
Nahimong buwak nga nisidlak ug nagpahiyum

My apologies to non-Cebuano readers.

Under the Same Roof

2010-06-03T10:40:00.002+09:00

We didn't choose to live under the same roof. That probably was the reason why we didn't agree on many petty things. Whose turn was it to get up earlier and cook? How about the laundry and the dish washing chores? Did you know I really hated it when you messed up my room intentionally or unintentionally? Often times, the small stuffs we argued about annoyed me and at times, they just got into my nerves that I blew disturbing silence for a couple of days.

I had no choice. I had to put up with you. You were my significant partner for a few years despite the absence of a written document that we should stick together for richer or for poorer and in sickness and in health. So when I decided to leave our place, you completely understood my move and didn't even hold me back. I had to find myself through other people. They say it was a daring and brave act but I just had to do it. Leaving you then meant living for myself.

When you walked me to where we last saw each other, we knew there would be no more trivial arguments for us. But then I was sad and there was no doubt you felt the same way. It was dawn when you kissed my cold cheek goodbye. When we hugged, I realized a cat can miss a dog’s pestering. It also came to me that our lives ahead were going to be different because we wouldn't have each other anymore. And when that sank into the deepest, the ocean seemed bluer than blue.

Two months have passed and I can say that I dearly miss my best enemy. I chose the label “best” because we can turn all of our little scraps into laughingstocks. This person, who also happens to be my reasonable shopping buddy and adventurous travel companion, can tickle me with her jests and stories, has empathized my life overseas and has shared with me not only a piece of bread, a pitcher of green tea, a plate of spaghetti, a recorder, some clothes and most of our house expenses. She has also shared her stubborn yet kindhearted self.

But last May 26, I’m pretty sure my sister missed me more because she didn’t get any flowers and surprise dinner parties on her birthday. :D

Belated Happy Birthday sis! I finished writing this entry a day before your birthday. I just couldn’t post it because as you know, I was away from my computer.

Here Comes the Sun

2010-05-07T13:34:00.006+09:00

with a rainbow ring.

Amazing!
To know what it means, click here.
To know what can be more amazing than this photo, click here.

If I Become a Mother...

2010-05-06T13:20:00.004+09:00

Inspired by Jen Aguinaldo

...I'll think of trees.

On my first year as a mother, I'll offer my gift of utmost understanding for my child is still incapable of words. I'll wake up when he cries at night because of hunger, fear or discomfort. I'll shake a rattle when I see he's bored or annoyed to ease him. I'll carefully observe when he wants to lift his head, kick his arms and legs, sit with support, crawl on his hands and feet, roll over and begin to stand by himself. I'll try to figure out what he means with his cooing sounds, laughter, screams and smiles. And after a year of being with us, I'll celebrate this milestone not only with a simple thanksgiving. I'll also plant trees.

Doodled by Dan

The following years, I'll give him the gift of patience. I'll tidy up the scattered toys and mess he makes from time to time. I'll watch him walk, run and play here and there, hush him when he trips and nurse him when he's bruised. I'll read him fairy tales and share some folklore as he goes to bed. I'll teach him how to dance hokey-pokey, climb, do somersaults and cartwheels, sing children and pop songs, trace or draw cartoons, color characters, scribble anything and talk about children matters. And just before he's ready to enter primary school, I'll celebrate this milestone not only with a simple thanksgiving. I'll also plant trees.

During his elementary years, my gift of encouragement is what I'll wrap. As he start to make friends at school and neighborhood, I'll remind him to be friendly and sensitive to others' feelings and needs. As he loses his baby teeth, I'll capture his innocent toothless smile with my camera. After his circumcision, I'll let him wear a skirt to experience how ladylike women feel with it. I'll ask who his favorite teachers are, what subjects interest him more and what sports he loves to practice. And as he graduates from elementary school, I'll celebrate this milestone not only with a simple thanksgiving. I'll also plant trees.

When he's in high school, guidance is what my child needs. Since puberty is at full swing, I'll tell him that hair growth is sometimes loved or detested and that the change in voice is a sexy sign of growing up. I'll assure him that it's exciting to go gaga over teen idols, memorize numerous rock band songs, hang out with friends on weekends as long as studies remain the top priority. I'll appreciate if he looks great with his preferred getup or say my unsolicited opinion if he doesn't. When he argues with me, I'll listen as he freely talk but will also explain my side. And when he's done with his exciting high school life, I'll celebrate this milestone not only with a simple thanksgiving. I'll also plant trees.

During his college years, I'll support him all the way. I'll let him decide what he wishes to major and will try to send him to the best university possible. When he thinks of his future, I'll differentiate idealism and reality. When he thinks of what he can do for the society, I'll inspire him with the success stories I know. As he gets into relationships and becomes curious with activities done behind closed doors, I'll remind him that the most delicious eggs aren't cooked but revealed at the right time with the right person. And as he toss his graduation cap into the air, I'll celebrate this milestone not only with a simple thanksgiving. I'll also plant trees.

From then on, I'll hand him my gift of independence but will still plant trees for every milestone he achieves: when he becomes a regular employee, when his position goes a step higher, when he ties the knot with his fiancee, when he's able to own a car and house, when he hopefully gets a masters or doctorate degree, when I finally have my grandchildren and so on. I'll plant trees as long as my body is capable because if only all the aspiring mothers out there will join me in this cause, can you imagine what we can leave to our children even when we pass away?

Trembling Hands

2010-04-21T10:14:00.004+09:00

My hands were trembling. It was my first and last time to be on stage.

“Hello. How are you?”

As an introduction, I asked all the students gathered in the gym, sitting quietly on the floor, listening intently to the speeches of the teachers who would retire, leave or be transferred. In Japan, they have that kind of farewell ceremony and since I was going back to the Philippines, my elementary school invited me to participate in it.

“Me? I’m…”

Actually, I wanted to tell them many things then.

The last two weeks before I left Japan, I must admit I wanted to have 25 hours a day. As we all know, any kind of major move demands time for packing and unpacking of things, settling of various accounts and all those city hall troublesome stuffs. This part made me tired as doing standard procedures, though necessary, can be a pain in the neck.

Sadness also tinged my face. The crybaby in me has always been clumsy with bidding farewell. So to appear cool and unaffected during my final classes, I showed them the ever popular, heartwarming and amusing video, “Where the hell is Matt?” as my message. I didn’t dwell on saying goodbye. That would have been very painful. Instead I emphasized that the world can become one even with stupid dancing.

On the other side of the coin, I also felt overwhelming joy. I didn’t know how thoughtful Japanese people are until I had my parting dates with my close colleagues. They gave me different presents as tokens of gratitude or mementos of friendship. On my part, I take them not only as super early Christmas gifts (yeah, I already have enough…lol) but also signs that they were contented with the little things I’ve done at work.

I was also counting the days. I had been thinking about going home for a long time and I was glad waiting for the ‘ripe’ time was over. I felt like a rose with one less thorn or a child with a new pair of rubber shoes. Apart from that, I looked forward to my two-week on the road trip too. It was another dream coming true so I couldn’t wait for it to happen.

Mixed emotions.

I couldn’t tell all these things at the ceremony. It was too much. It was too difficult for the students. It wasn’t proper, either. So I rehearsed a brief Japanese speech that fortunately did not let the audience doze off. But at present, I’m letting myself freely type everything because I was challenged with what somebody has told me, “We know you want a bolder paper person.”

So how did I answer my own question?

“Me? I’m… cold.”

My hands were trembling. It was my first and last time to be on stage. And it was freezing in the gym.

Petal Plucking

2010-04-18T18:33:00.008+09:00

Written on March 15, 2010

Nope, this post isn’t about a teenybopper desperate to know whether the boy next door is into her or not. I’m absolutely done with that stage (lol). But I wish decision making is as easy as that. Or as fun as playing rock, paper and scissors. Or as fast as tossing a coin. Unfortunately, reality strikes that the longer you live, the harder the process of petal plucking can be. Sometimes, it lasts for months or even years.

Stay or Leave?

When I pulled off the first petal, I considered affordability as the primary benefit an ordinary Filipino working abroad can get. True enough, living in a wealthy country can be quite expensive but because it offers good financial opportunities, one can readily buy the basic needs and a few, if not many wants. Probably in other countries as well, this ‘affordability’ is a privilege all Japanese people seem to enjoy. When I look at Japanese people, it’s quite difficult to draw a line between the well-off and the unfortunate. Everyone seems equal, there’s no obvious gap. And for someone who grew up in a country known for its pyramidal economic structure, this perk is something you don’t want to lose.

Plucking the second petal made me think about what I want to do with my life. When I came to Japan, there have been no rooms for complaints when it comes to employment. I’m not saying that my main and part time jobs are perfect but other foreigners (especially fellow Filipinos) were so affected with the recession they had to leave untimely. But don’t you think there are times when you feel something is missing even if everything around you is ideal? And before you fall into dreamland, that angst whispers in your ear that contentment is a very difficult word to define. Sometimes it’s tantamount to happiness but sometimes it can also mean settling in your comfort zone and unheeding the calling for something more.

Pause. A very long one.

The third petal was for all the people I met in Japan. I admit I learned much more than a handful of things from my students, especially the joy of being with children. They even helped me dream of a career path, which is a major diversion from what I first aspired after graduation. I also thought of my acquaintances, colleagues and new-found friends and though they are dissimilar from my crowd in the Philippines, weaving memories with them in a culture totally different from mine proved to be exciting and insightful. My family also came across my mind because the whole time I’m in Japan, I have spent quality time with them during our simple gatherings and short trips.

When I plucked the fourth petal, I reminisced all the beautiful memories with my old chums: our long conversations over dinner or a cup of coffee, endless laughter and giggles, singing and dancing at karaoke rooms and all those little spices that add flavor to life. I started to ‘miss’ them terribly when I realized I ‘missed’ weddings, baptisms, birthdays, reunions, funeral and other significant occasions where I should have been by their side. I miss him too, he who has made music more soulful and letters more meaningful. And that kind of “missing” just let you do the countdown to your next meeting, just like the way we welcome New Year.

Pause. Long and deep breath.

The fifth petal was allotted for my favorite things in Japan: cherry blossoms in April, fireworks in summer, healthy food, cycling and bicycle lanes even on main roads, soft and sticky rice, shabu-shabu, champon, sushi and other healthy Japanese food, napping during short and long train rides, well-planned railways, time-conscious individuals, outstanding customer service, bidet at toilet bowls, well-segregated trash, meiji chocolates and yogurt, disciplined drivers hardly using horns, great opportunities for travel, pocket tissues given for free at stations, green tea, vending machines everywhere, well-preserved trees and mountains, temples and shrines…

The sixth petal was allotted for my favorite things in the Philippines: red bougainvillea, naturally scented sampaguita, green mangoes with shrimp paste, lanzones, mangosteen and other tropical fruits, wearing shorts, shirts and slippers all year through, lovely beaches and unexplored islands and spots, the comfort of using one’s language for communication, more stars at night, more cloud formations at daytime, plenty of comfort zones, smiles, easier way of talking with strangers, home…

Pause. I sighed at the impossibility of having all the good things in one country.

The seventh petal was reserved for the reasons of my mind again. Very clear, very promising, very practical. It sure has the easier way.

For the eighth petal, I closed my eyes and listened to the reasons of my heart. It painted a smile on my face even though it will make my life a bit complicated. The risks involved will require me face the fear of the unknown (or lost of the known) but isn’t life always like that? When I raised my eyelids, I saw there’s nothing more to pluck.

The hEARt owned the LAST petal.

Thank you for walking with me in the land of the rising sun. I hope we’ll continue to watch each other’s steps now that I’m back in my home country. Welcome to the new chapter of my life!

The Unmissable Island

2010-04-16T18:23:00.005+09:00

About an hour away from central Hiroshima by train and ferry, you’ll set foot in Miyajima island, known as one of the most scenic places in Japan. When my sister and I went to Hiroshima last month, we made sure to include this world heritage site in our itinerary as this is a spot one should not miss.

One reason why I’ve always wanted to come here is to see the most famous o-tori (shrine gate) of Itsukushima Shrine. When it’s high tide, the gate stands in the middle of seawater, the waves highlighting its orange color and the mountains serving as its backdrop. When it’s low tide, tourists can walk from the shrine to the gate to take a closer look at the coins scattered near it. Since we stayed there whole day, we were able to witness both breathtaking scenes.

Shrine gate at high tide

Shrine gate at low tide

This island has many other tourist spots but one of my favorites is the Komyoin Temple located uphill. On the left side of its long steep stairs, there’s a narrow way that will let you see a group of Buddha miniatures with different faces: one is laughing, one is frowning, one looks tired, one is holding a gardening tool, one is begging, one is scratching his head, etc. Each seems to convey a feeling or activity human beings express or carry out every day. Cool.

Different faces of Buddha

In the island, you’ll see tamed deer walking everywhere. At about 2 p.m., the wind blew my map to the bank of a creek where a deer was resting. Though I rushed to get it, the deer was fast enough to pick it up with its mouth first. It then turned to me and stared, as if asking if it was mine or not. But when I was about to nod for confirmation, he started nibbling it!!! With frozen hands, I cried, “Noooooo” because I was scared of its possible harm. A couple nearby heard the damsel in distress and the man hurried to save me (or the deer). He gently took the map away from the deer’s mouth, patted its head, gave the map to me and smiled. I beamed back and thanked him. I didn’t know it was that easy. Lol.

A deer in Miyajima

The island’s Momijidani Park is said to be a sight to behold in autumn. When we stopped there to eat at its restaurant, Cecil and I just listened to the rustling of green leaves of the tall maple and pine trees. We enjoyed eating delicious oysters in shells, another dish the island feels proud of.

Oysters

After feeding our stomachs, Cecil and I took the ropeway to the upper part of the Mt. Misen, the highest mountain on the island. We thought there’s just another lookout of the island’s surrounding above. What we didn’t expect was the trail to the topmost of the mountain from the highest ropeway station. We just followed the crowd and walked through tall well-protected trees without knowing that our effort would be paid off by the scenery viewed from the top:

unusual shaped rocks

sacred primeval forest

exhilarating view of the surrounding islands.

The following day, we visited Himeji castle, the biggest and most beautiful castle in Japan. Aside from being considered as a world heritage site by UNESCO, it was also one of the settings of “The Last Samurai” movie.

Himeji Castle

However, it was tooooo crowded we couldn’t enjoy the visit. From the time we entered the place until we got out of it, we stayed in a line. While we were on the fifth floor of the castle, we could still see people lining up at the entrance. Whew!

Blast in the Past

2010-03-28T19:58:00.002+09:00

My father told me Japan would lose in the war and I felt he was more credible than the victory newspapers were manipulating. I shared this truth to my buddies when we met at a river for a dip but I got bullied. They thrust my head into the water for a few minutes, angered at the thought of possible defeat. But the whole time they did this to me, I couldn't care less about my last breath. I only tried to answer my own question, "What would happen to Japan in the future?"

The Atomic Bomb Dome

65 years after the "Little Boy" atomic bomb was dropped over Hiroshima, I knew the answer to the question of my colleague's father, a Japanese man in his late seventies who had his share of depressing war memories. But if Japan horribly suffered from that wrathful blast on a bright summer day in 1945, I couldn't see a trace of it except for the well-preserved Atomic Bomb Dome standing strongly by the river. Though the bomb exploded meters above it, the used-to-be Product Exhibition Hall of the city is the only edifice that serves as the living remnant of the war. Yeah, during my trip to Hiroshima with my sister, I affirmed that Japan has moved on from that horrifying past.

Epitaph of all victims at Peace Park

My boyfriend said it's crazy to think that the place that was once burned into ashes is now a major tourist spot that has a WiFi connection. I guess he was right. Can you imagine this place brushed only with shades of black and gray after the explosion? Can you imagine thirsty people walking limply because their bodies were burned with the 5000-degree heat brought by the bomb? Can you imagine the river filled with floating corpses and debris? A visit at the museum will let you do that but you'll surely feel a punch or at least a pinch. The facts, stories, pictures and other remainders were just too painful and dreadful.

Sasaki Sadako' spreading hope

But of course we know the conservation aims for peace as the mistakes of the past have taught us. It is for those who hoped, and who hopes, that such will never happen again. Before I headed to Hiroshima, I only knew the sad story of Sadako, the girl who suddenly had leukemia at the age of 12 because of the radiation effects of the bomb. She folded a thousand cranes, hoping she would be cured and she will be the last victim to suffer from this madness. But when I read the other stories, I came to realize she was luckier because she could live a little longer. Some kids were unable to bear the heat and just dropped dead.

Colorful paper cranes from different parts of the world

If I could meet the father of my colleague again, I would congratulate him for his nationalism. He and the other war survivors have not only withstand the anguish, the impoverishment and defeat but have worked long and hard to make their nation a very peaceful and safe one. They didn't cage themselves in the nightmares of the past. They held out for the children of the children of their children.