Child of Earth

An old love story and stuff like that

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 15:34:00 +0000

It's been a while since I last posted -- yeah yeah I know, understatement much. I hope to have more time to blog now that I'm supposed to be on vacation. [What's rest, mama?] And more time to notice more interesting things to talk about and actually sit down and analyze them.

Anyway, since it's Valentine's Day, I figured it would be fitting to do this post.

You see,. I'm back at home, so I'm pestering my old aunt to tell me more family stories. For the first time, she told me how my great-grandfather won a princess for his bride. I've always known that one of my ancestresses was a binukot, but I didn't know who exactly.

According to my aunt, my grandmother --her and dad's mother -- was beautiful when she was young. Her father-- my great-grandfather, Tatay Mal-am-- was an encargado on a large estate in Iloilo, and had only two children, my grandmother and her brother. Before he was an encargado, however, he was a revolutionary, and he and his fellow members of the local Katipunan [where my grandfather's father's distant cousin, Teresa Magbanua, later rose to prominence] met and camped somewhere in the middle of Panay, where there were Sulodnon people, the so-called tumandok, the indigenous people of the island. The Sulodnon still carried on the practice of binukot-- the most beautiful women in the tribe were shut away from the eyes of the world, and they were never allowed to set foot on the ground. But Tatay Mal-am, so my aunt said, somehow made up his mind to win one of these princesses for his bride... so he went to the house of the woman's father and thrust his bolo into the foot of the stairs leading up to the house, announcing his intention to court her. He and his men often brought gifts-- meat of the wild boars they had caught, among others. Anyway, he finally got the father's permission to marry the girl he wanted.

The problem was that the village required the marriage ceremonies to be long and elaborate... he was going to marry one of their princesses after all. Tatay Mal-am, my aunt said, got fed up with all the hoopla and stole his bride away to the lowland, where he married her in a church. She was my great-grandmother, Nanay Mal-am. After the Revolution, he became encargado on an estate, and raised my grandmother and her brother in luxury. Aunt says that when grandmother was younger, and even after she married grandfather and had children, she liked to wear silk dresses and silk stockings -- in many different colors, each wrapped in tissue to prevent snags and runs -- and pretty shoes. Guess I know where I got that streak, huh?

Anyway, Tatay Mal-am wanted his precious daughter to marry someone he liked, and when he set eyes on my grandfather --who was fifteen years older than grandma-- he wanted him to be his son-in-law. Grandfather was then just a visitor to their town-- he ended up marrying grandma and moving in with them, since Tatay Mal-am wanted his daughter to go on living in luxury. Their oldest child-- my oldest uncle, the one we tracked down on Friendster after he left home over 30 years ago-- was born in the encargado's house, and my aunts spent their early childhood there. It was only after World War II-- a time when villages were warned by tambulis [carabao horns] that the Japanese were coming, and the people hid in bamboo thickets and cornfields until they had passed, for if the Japanese found anyone they would kill them-- that Grandfather brought his family back to his own hometown, and there my father, his youngest child, was born.

Sabi Ko Na Nga Ba, Nag-iisang Ikaw, Sayang Na Sayang

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 03:11:00 +0000

So, random post for 11/11/11. What is it with today's date, lol. Feeling sort of nostalgic today-- and it's Friday after all-- so here are three songs from way way back when. I was in Grade Four when these songs became hits-- I know, because we kept singing them until we'd memorized them and they are the first pop songs I've ever memorized. Some may say they're old and sentimental and bakya, but the lyrics are beautiful. As usual, I provide a loose translation. "Sabi Ko Na Nga Ba" means "I said so" or "I knew it." "Sayang Na Sayang" is kind of hard to translate, because "sayang" can mean regret or waste, but the English words kind of fall short. Used in this song, it signifies regret for a love that had been thrown away.

Here are the lyrics of the songs "Sabi Ko Na Nga Ba" (Sheryl Cruz), "Nag-iisang Ikaw" (Ronnie Liang), and "Sayang Na Sayang" (Manilyn Reynes) with translations in English.

Sabi Ko Na Nga Ba
(Sheryl Cruz)

Sabi ko na nga ba, kapwa'y mayroong pag-ibig na lihim
Pagka't sa tuwing magtatama ang ating paningin
Umiiwat ako't di makatagal at ika'y nauutal
Hindi ba't tanda iyan ng nagmamahal?

Kung alam mo nga lang, na kay tagal na kitang pangarap
Ang sabi ko sa puso ko, ikaw lang talaga
Ang nais na makasama, ngayon at kailan pa man
Kung hindi ikaw, huwag na lang sana

Kung alam mo lang na kaytagal ko nang naghihintay
Upang malaman mo kung gaano ko ikaw kamahal
Tanging buhay ko'y ibibigay sa iyo sinta
Sabi ko na nga ba, iba pag nagmahal

Akala ko nung una, malabo ang mga bagay sa atin
'Di ko inaasam-asam na ako'y mahal mo rin
Dahil kung kani-kanino ko pa nalalaman
Ang damdamin mo sa akin, sinta.

Kung alam mo lang na kaytagal ko nang naghihintay
Upang malaman mo kung gaano ko ikaw kamahal
Tanging buhay ko'y ibibigay sa 'yo sinta
Sabi ko na nga ba, iba 'pag nagmahal

I Knew It
(translation by Laya)

I knew it, we both secretly loved each other
because whenever our eyes met
I would look away immediately and you would be speechless
Isn't that a sign of love?

If you only knew I'd been dreaming of you for so long
I told my heart that you were the only one
I'd want to be with, now and forever
If not you, I don't want anyone else.

If you only knew how long I'd been waiting
for you to know how much I love you
I'd even give you my life, my love
I knew it, it's different when you're in love.

I thought at first that we could never be
I never dreamed that you loved me too
Because I was always finding out from someone else
How you felt about me, my love.

If you only knew how long I'd been waiting
for you to know how much I love you
I'd even give you my life, my love
I knew it, it's different when you're in love.

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

Nag-iisang Ikaw
(Ronnie Liang)

Araw-araw na lang ay naghihintay sa 'yo
Nananabik na mahagkan at mayakap ka
Iniwan mong alaala ang s'yang lagi kong kasama
Bakit kapag wala ka sadya bang kulang pa

Bakit kaya gano'n ang s'yang nadarama?
Sa bawat sandali hanap ka ng aking mata
Marahil ay ikaw na nga sa aking puso ang ligaya
Dahil sa 'yo ako'y wala nang hahanapin pa

Ikaw ang pag-ibig ko, ang tawag ng damdamin
Ang mabuhay ng wala ka ay hindi sapat
Dahil kailangan ko ay laging ikaw
Na sa t'wina'y natatanaw
Sa aking puso'y may tinatangi
Ang nag-iisang ikaw...

Bakit kaya gano'n ang s'yang nadarama?
Sa bawat sandali hanap ka ng aking mata
Marahil ay ikaw na nga sa aking puso ang ligaya
Dahil sa 'yo ako'y wala nang hahanapin pa

Ikaw ang pag-ibig ko, ang tawag ng damdamin
Ang mabuhay ng wala ka ay hindi sapat
Dahil kailangan ko ay laging ikaw
Na sa t'wina'y natatanaw
Sa aking puso'y may tinatangi
Ang nag-iisang ikaw...

Kahit na anong mangyari, magmamahal pa rin sa 'yo
At ang lagi kong iisipin, mahal mo rin ako...

Ikaw ang pag-ibig ko, ang tawag ng damdamin
Ang mabuhay ng wala ka ay hindi sapat
Dahil kailangan ko ay laging ikaw
Na sa t'wina'y natatanaw
Sa aking puso'y may tinatangi
Ang nag-iisang ikaw
Ang nag-iisang ikaw...

Only You
(translation by Laya)

Each and every day I wait for you,
longing to kiss and embrace you.
The memories you left behind are my constant companions.
Why is it that without you everything feels incomplete?

Why am I feeling this?
Every second, my eyes look for you.
Perhaps you really are the joy of my heart.
Because of you, I don't need to look for anything else.

You are my love, my longing
To live without you is not enough
Because what I need is always you
Always in my sight.
In my heart there is only the one
and only you...

Why am I feeling this?
Every second, my eyes look for you.
Perhaps you really are the joy of my heart.
Because of you, I don't need to look for anything else.

You are my love, my longing
To live without you is not enough
Because what I need is always you
Always in my sight.
In my heart there is only the one
and only you...

Whatever happens, I will still love you
and I will always believe that you love me too...

You are my love, my longing
To live without you is not enough
Because what I need is always you
Always in my sight.
In my heart there is only the one
and only you...
the one and only you...

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

Sayang Na Sayang
Manilyn Reynes

Araw at gabi ikaw ang hinahanap
Panaginip ko’y laging kasama ka
Tamis ng pag-ibig mo napapangarap ko
Sa ‘ki’y walang ibang katulad mo

Kayganda naman ng ating pagsasama
Ikaw at ako ay laging masaya
Ngunit biglang nagbago, mga pangako mo
Tayong dal’wa ngayo’y magkalayo

Sayang na sayang lang ang pag-ibig mo
Laan pa naman ang puso ko sa’yo
Naalala ka kung nag-iisa
Sa pangarap ko’y kasama kita

Kung iibig kang muli sana’y mag-ingat
Nang wala nang puso pang masasaktan
Piliting matupad mga pangako mo
Ganyan ang pag-ibig na totoo

Sayang na sayang lang ang pag-ibig mo
Laan pa naman ang puso ko sa’yo
Naalala ka kung nag-iisa
Sa pangarap ay kasama kita

Sayang na sayang lang ang pag-ibig mo
Laan pa naman ang puso ko sa’yo
Naalala ka kung nag-iisa
Sa pangarap ay kasama kita

Sayang na sayang lang, sayang na sayang lang
Sayang na sayang lang ang pag-ibig mo
Naalala ka kung nag-iisa
Sa pangarap ay kasama kita

Regrets
(translation by Laya)

Day and night I look for you,
In my dreams I'm always with you.
I long for the sweetness of your love;
For me there is no one like you.

We had such a good relationship,
You and I were always happy
But your promises suddenly changed
And now we're apart.

Your love was such a waste,
just when my heart had already been given to you
I remember you when I'm alone--
In my dreams you're still with me.

If you ever love again, I hope you take care
that no other heart will be hurt.
Try to fulfill your promises,
because that's how true love is.

Your love was such a waste,
just when my heart had already been given to you
I remember you when I'm alone--
In my dreams you're still with me.

Your love was such a waste,
just when my heart had already been given to you
I remember you when I'm alone--
In my dreams you're still with me.

Such a waste, oh, such a waste,
your love was such a waste.
I remember you when I'm alone--
in my dreams you're still with me.

Finally, an Anti-Epal Bill, thank you Senator Miriam

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 02:35:00 +0000

So I suddenly came back to this blog because of this:

Senator Miriam Defensor Santiago has filed an "Anti-Epal" Bill entitled “An Act Prohibiting Public Officers from Claiming Credit through Signage Announcing a Public Works Project.”

"Epal" is slang for scene-stealers-- those people who try to take over a conversation, or grab others' attention, or even take credit that is not rightfully theirs. As in that ubiquitous term "Weh" which is said to be short for "Wag epal ha."

I for one am among those who feel distaste whenever they see one of those huge signs announcing a government project, with names and photos of the public officer/s "heading" or "facilitating" the project sometimes taking up the biggest portion of the signage. Why? Because I know that the project is using government funds. Funds coming from the taxes that take a huge chunk of my salary every month. Funds coming from the pockets of the ordinary working folk. And yet those huge signs seem to imply that the project is being undertaken due to the generosity of so-and-so politician-- as if he or she were a feudal lord of the manor who deigned to expend the contents of his treasury for the benefit of the serfs.

In the past, I was one of those who didn't realize it was wrong-- who thought that that was just the way things were.

I was a student council officer for my four years of high school, way back in the 90s. When it came time for us to plan and propose our project for the year, our advisers (with all due respect) always advised us to put up a structure with our names on it so that people would know that we were the student council officers for that year and were responsible for that project. It didn't matter if it was a bulletin board that no one would use, or a trash can, or a bench along the walkway, or even a stretch of decorative fencing, as long as it was something that had our names on it. We were spending the student council budget on it, of course, a budget which came from the students' contributions during enrollment.

I do know we put up a student council office (which is still there and does have my name on its wall) in my second or third year -- but I don't remember much about the other projects we were supposed to have put up. What I do remember is the year we didn't build anything at all. [Where are we going to put another bulletin board in this place? our president asked.] That was in my fourth year, the year we broke tradition and implemented programs instead -- a Clean and Green contest for the year, a sports fest, a quiz show and writing contest. Stuff that would get everyone thinking, being creative, being competitive. Our advisers opposed it for being a lot of work and for being "temporary" in the sense that after we left, we wouldn't leave anything with our names on it. I know we all had fun, though-- both the officers and the student body. And we did feel that at least we were using that money for the benefit of the students who elected us.

Not that I'm against building-- some stuff does need to be built, if people need it. But that's it. You build it because people need it, not because you need to put up something with your name on it so people will remember you. Public officials are supposed to be there to serve the people, not to aggrandize themselves-- as such, they should think of how best to serve the people, not of what they can take from the position.

I don't know what happened after we left-- I guess no one carried on the programs and went back to building bulletin boards with their names on them because it was easier. Ozymandias and all that.

Some student council officers do end up as local government officials later on. And they learn young. If that's an attitude that people learn early, bulletin boards with your name on it may later become bridges and walkways with your name on it "for posterity." And it continues.

Thanks for the bill, Sen. Miriam. Perhaps you would like to include those pesky huge banners with fiesta, Christmas, New Year's, and all-around greetings from so-and-so local politicians in your bill as well. Especially the ones where the politician's name and face is actually bigger than the greetings. Or you could regulate the format and the size. I know a lot of epal will oppose this bill, but thanks. Thanks so much.

Temandan, Kayo Mdata, Bagbagto and Sang Isa Ka Gab-i

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Wed, 24 Aug 2011 04:51:00 +0000

This blog is really getting to be a repository of old songs and stuff. Har har. Here are some more songs that I remember from old school days. We performed "Temandan" in several choir competitions when I was in elementary school-- some old friends who didn't go to the same school with me may not agree, but we were the best choir in the municipality for two years!-- and "Kayo Mdata" was a staple for command performances. Yes, I sang when I was in elementary and high school. Don't believe my family when they tell you I don't have a voice. I like singing. So there. :P Both songs are fast-paced, and the fun with "Kayo Mdata" is that it's actually a round that gets faster and faster. Bagbagto is a song that my teacher aunt taught me when I was very small; I still have it memorized because of the pattern. Don't ask me what they mean though-- I have absolutely no idea. I think "Kayo Mdata" might be a T'boli or B'laan song. Also, spelling and some parts might vary because we learned these songs orally.

We also used the last song as a contest piece, but this one I understand because it's Hiligaynon, so I give you a translation. Also, it's my favorite folk song because it's really funny.

Temandan

U, u, u, temandan
Temandan bucay hahan
E, e, temandan
Sotulogi, temandan
Sotulogi, temandan
E, e, temandan
Temandan bucay hahan,
Temandan bucay hahan,
E, e, temandan
Sotulogi, temandan
Sotulogi, temandan
Temandan bucay hahan,
E, e, temandan.

***
Kayo Mdata

Kayo mdata bulol la kayo lumungoy daun
An wan do to icong lacaya
Palbok ne melong sama
Ne ungca nangal matan
Tem dem na mlatundan...
***

Bagbagto

Bagbagto, bagbagtolambik
Tolambik, tolambawikan
Bawikan, bawikalanay
Kalanay, kalanapunay
Napunay, napunayagta
Nayagta, nayagtakumpa
Takumpa, takumpayaao
Payaao, payaatimbao
Atimbao, atingawistan
Gawistan, gawistanabu
Tanabu, tanabugaay
Bugaay, bugaay madun.

***

Sang Isa Ka Gab-i

Sang isa ka gab-i masanag ang bulan
May isa ka tawo nga nagpanindahan
Uminom sang tuba* nahubog nagtalang
Diretso sa pilapil sa turugban nagtigpasaw*
Sang iya pagtigpasaw nakibot ang karbaw
Pumusnga ang sapat, ang hubog nagwawaw*
Gilayon tumindog kag tumingkaaw
Sulo ang nakita, ang lago* sa kahoy*
Ang lago sa kahoy nga doble ang tuktuk
Tiko-tiko iya balay kag nanabud-sabud
Wasay sanduko aton nga iutod--
Sugiran ta ka Nonoy, iya ngalan Tamilok*!

[Some of my classmates would add "...ok-ok!" at the end, just for fun, and it ended the song with a kind of echo. :D]

[English translation]
It happened one night, when the moon was full
There was a man who went to market
He drank some tuba, got drunk and lost his way,
Went straight to the rice field and fell into a mud wallow
The splash he made startled the carabao,
The animal snorted, and the drunk man cried loudly
He stood up and then looked up
Saw a torch, and a worm in the wood
The worm in the wood had two beaks
Its house was crooked and twisted around and around
A sanduko axe is what we'll use to cut it--
I tell you, Nonoy, its name was Tamilok.

*Tuba - coconut wine
*Tigpasaw - to fall in with a big splash
*Wawaw - an onomatopoeic word mimicking a loud cry or wail
*Lago - earthworm, worm
*Kahoy - wood or tree
*Tamilok - Shipworm or Teredo worm, eaten as a delicacy

Of language and culture

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Sat, 20 Aug 2011 05:50:00 +0000

Genesis: A writer was tasked to write an article on Language Month and came up with a piece advocating the use of Filipino alone, at the same time lambasting "misplaced regionalism" blaming it for "backwardness," "lack of unity" and "failure to progress." After getting my blood pressure back to normal-- and sending the article back with a few choice comments and a stern admonishment to do more research and rewrite the whole thing-- I wrote this piece in response.

* * *

Ask me what my native tongue is. I don't know what to answer. "Filipino" would be a safe answer. It's my country's national language, one I've been exhorted since childhood to love and master. But Filipino is not the first language I learned. I mastered English ahead of it, to the extent that I actually write and think in English, although I use Filipino for spoken communication.

I come from Mindanao, where Cebuano (or "Bisaya") is the lingua franca. Is it my native tongue? No, for I learned it in adolescence, when I had to go to college in a place where Cebuano was spoken.

I was born of Ilonggo parents, in a place where Hiligaynon is spoken. Is Hiligaynon my native tongue? You would expect the answer to be "yes." Hiligaynon is a language I speak almost by instinct when encountering a fellow Ilonggo.

Yet there is a memory of myself at age seven or eight, in elementary school. At the pump, after weeding in the school flower garden. Myself, saying "Hugas ta alima kag kahig." (Let's wash our hands and feet.) My classmates all bursting into laughter, ridiculing what I said (kahig in both Filipino and Hiligaynon refer to that motion chickens make when scratching the earth with their feet, although in Hiligaynon the stress is on the second syllable). "Alima kag kahig?" they asked. "What? It's kamot kag tiil. Say it. Kamot kag tiil. Not alima kag kahig." I did not know what to do-- at home we said "alima kag kahig" --but did as they said to keep the peace. I began listening to how they spoke and imitating it. And thus I lost my native tongue-- Karay-a.

My father was born in Pototan, my mother in Bugasong, Antique. It's not pronounced "an-teek" although that would be closer to its ancient name of Hamtik-- it's "an-tee-keh." We spoke Karay-a (also Kiniray-a or Kinaray-a) at home. It's only recently that Karay-a was established as a language in its own right-- for a long time, it was considered a cruder, more guttural variant of Hiligaynon, with its predominant "r" and "g" sounds where Hiligaynon used "d." Rugya, giya, rugto - diri, diya, didto - here, here, there. A friend of mine who went to college in Iloilo said some of her classmates ridiculed their classmates who were Karay-a speakers for their "quaint speech" and called them "mountain people" (uncivilized folk).

This also takes me back to a particular evening when I was still in college, traveling the 160-km journey home for the summer with my friends and townmates -- we often all went home together if we were from the same town or area because it was more fun and there was safety in numbers. In the van, on the last leg of our trip, there were two girls speaking in Filipino although with the local accent. After a while, one of the other passengers told them to speak in Hiligaynon because they were not in Manila. "It's obvious that you're not Ilonggo, you're in a place where Ilonggo is spoken, among fellow Ilonggos. Stop speaking Tagalog."

And yes, that accent. "Puntong Bisaya," they call it, although those conversant with the various Visayan languages will tell you that there is no generic "puntong Bisaya" because the accent varies with the language of the speaker.

Many people comment, upon hearing that I am actually not a Manila native, "but you don't have an accent!" I don't have one because I try to speak a language as correctly as possible, including its proper accents. Personally, I think that that "puntong Bisaya" isn't just about the speaker being unable to speak a language correctly. It's also a point of pride, of self-identification-- of saying that I may speak this language, but it is obviously not my native tongue. My native tongue is something else-- Cebuano, Hiligaynon, Waray, Karay-a, which I shall not abandon even though you insist I should use this so-called "national language." My fellow Cebuano, Ilonggo, Waray or Karay-a will be able to identify me because of this accent. Never mind that here, "Bisaya" is an insult, another synonym for "mountain people." I am proud of what I am, of where I'm from.

If I could go back to that moment in the schoolyard so many years ago, I would ask them why. Why should I forget my own language in order to embrace yours? If language is an integral part of my culture, why should I throw away what is mine? I can learn your language, but you must also respect that I have my own, and that it is part of who I am.

"Misplaced regionalism"? It all comes down to the perception that my culture should be considered as good as yours. Why should one cultural group out of all the hundred-plus cultural groups in this country be considered better than others? Why should its literature and culture, its language, its music, its history, be treated as more important than that of the hundred-plus others? If you want unity, can't we be united as equals?

Cesar Barreta's Parang Langit Na

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 02:29:00 +0000

Have you ever remembered an old song and found that it was hard to find, even on the internet? I have. That's why I was glad when I found this...

I remembered this song from the 1990s as "that song that went 'mundo ko'y parang langit na...'" I do have a memory of a DJ saying that it won some sort of song-writing award. That was circa 1992 - 1993. I remember because I'd woken up from a nap one Saturday afternoon on the second floor of our old house -- a house that was made of planks with a bamboo floor on which we slept. I'd had a good dream and was feeling great, and the radio, which was playing in the living room directly below my room, played this song. I thought it was the perfect complement to the way I felt at that moment.

So here, enjoy. This is Cesar Barreta's "Parang Langit Na". Thank you so much to whoever put this up on the 'net.

Parang Langit Na
(Cesar Barreta)

Kung mangyari man, aking mahal
na ikaw at ako'y magkatuluyan--
mundo ko'y parang langit na,
mundo ko'y parang langit na
kapag ikaw ay laging kasama

Asahan mo, aking mahal
ang pag-ibig ko sa 'yo'y di magbabago--
ang puso ko'y iyong-iyo,
ang puso ko'y iyong iyo
at sana'y sa akin lang ang pag-ibig mo

[Chorus]
Mundo ko'y parang langit na,
mundo ko'y parang langit na
kapag tayo lang dalawa ang laging magkasama.
Mundo ko'y parang langit na,
mundo ko'y parang langit na
kapag tayo lang dalawa ang laging magkasama.

Kung mangyari man, aking mahal
na ikaw at ako ay magkawalay--
ayoko nang umibig pa,
ayoko nang umibig pa
kapag ikaw sa akin ay mawawala.

[Repeat II and Chorus]
[Repeat II and Chorus]

Kapag tayo lang dalawa ang laging magkasama...

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

Just Like Heaven
(Translated by Laya from the original by Cesar Barreta)

If it happens, my love
that you and I will end up together--
my world would be just like heaven,
my world would be just like heaven,
if you're constantly with me.

You can trust, my love
that my love for you will never change--
my heart is all yours,
my heart is all yours
and I hope that your love is all mine.

[Chorus]
My world would be just like heaven,
my world would be just like heaven
if the two of us are always together.
My world would be just like heaven,
my world would be just like heaven
if the two of us are always together.

If it happens, my love
that you and I will part--
I don't want to love again,
I don't want to love again
if I ever lose you.

[Repeat II and Chorus]
[Repeat II and Chorus]

If the two of us are always together...

More songs from school

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Thu, 16 Jun 2011 10:30:00 +0000

I thought I'd post a couple more songs we used to sing during flag ceremony, if anyone still remembers these.

Panalangin ng Bayan

Huwag mo pong pababayaan
yaring mutyang bayan namin
Ipag-adya sa kalaban at mga mang-aalipin
Kasihan mo po ng lakas
ang bawat isa sa amin
Ituro mo po ang landas
na siyang dapat patunguhin
Inyong pagpalain ang Pangulo ng aming bayan
Yaring panalangin nawa'y inyong mapakinggan
Inyong pagpalain ang Pangulo ng aming bayan
Yaring panalangin nawa'y inyong mapakinggan
Amen.

The Nation's Prayer
[Translated by Laya]

Grant that you not forsake
this treasured land of ours,
protect it from the enemy and those who might enslave us
Please give strength
to each and everyone of us
and please show us the way
that we should go.
Bless the President of our nation,
this prayer we hope you will heed.
Bless the President of our nation,
this prayer we hope you will heed.
Amen.

_______________________________________________

Ako ay Pilipino

Ako ay Pilipino, ang dugo'y maharlika
likas sa aking puso, adhikaing kay ganda
sa Pilipinas na aking bayan,
lantay na perlas ng silanganan
wari'y natipon ang kayamanan
ng Maykapal...
Bigay sa'king talino, sa mabuti lang laan
Sa aki'y katutubo ang maging mapagmahal
Ako ay Pilipino, ako ay Pilipino
isang bansa 'sandiwa* ang minimithi ko
sa bayan ko't bandila laan buhay ko't diwa
ako ay Pilipino, Pilipinong totoo
Ako ay Pilipino, ako ay Pilipino
taas-noo kahit kanino,
ang Pilipino ay ako.

I am a Filipino
[Translated by Laya]

I am a Filipino, I have the blood of a free man
noble ideals are natural to my heart
for the Philippines my country,
pure pearl of the East,
where all of the Creator's treasures seem to have been gathered...
The intelligence granted me is intended only for good
for me, it is natural to be loving
I am a Filipino, I am a Filipino
one nation, one mind* is my dream
My life and mind are dedicated to my country,
I am a Filipino, a Filipino true.
I am a Filipino, I am a Filipino,
head held high to everyone,
the Filipino is me.

*This dates the song to the Marcos regime. However, the sentiments it expresses should still hold true.

These songs keep coming back to me, although I'm not sure of the titles and some of the lyrics. I suppose it's the musical equivalent of the "pass the rumor" game-- these lyrics were never really posted on the blackboard for us to copy and memorize. We learned them by rote, from listening to the students in the higher grades / years sing them! Gawd, I suddenly miss those class songfests.

The pink and white led by day and night
as a symbol of our youth
our banner great and the creed we've said
will symbolize our truth
one purpose binds us together
a purpose so strong and great
that we join each other in a song
to show our pride and strength
Future homemakers of the Philippines,
we are ever moving on
to live better lives and to build better homes
now and in the years to come
we strive towards new horizons
always trying to reach our goal
Future homemakers of the Philippines
so true, so brave, so bold...
--------
The sun and the stars are all singing
the song rises strong from the earth
the hope of humanity bringing
a hymn to a new world in birth
United Nations on the march with flag unfurled
Together fight for victory a free new world
Together fight for victory a free new world.
-----------
Isang gabi noon ako'y nangarap
namamangka ako sa dagat
nakakita ako ng isang bulaklak
lulubog, lilitaw sa dagat
at nang lalapitan ko at kukunin
hinahampas pa rin ng hangin
ibig mo ba giliw aking hahabulin
lulubog, lilitaw sa dagat,
lulubog, lilitaw sa dagat.

[translation]
one night I had a dream
I was in a boat on the ocean
when I saw a flower
sinking and floating on the water
and when I would go near and get it
the wind would blow it away
darling, do you want me to go after it,
sinking and floating on the water
sinking and floating on the water?
-------------
Isang gabi, maliwanag
ako'y naghihintay sa aking magandang dilag
namamanglaw ang puso ko
at ang diwa ko ay laging nangangarap
Malasin mo giliw ang saksi ng aking pagmamahal
bituing nagniningning kislap tala't liwanag ng buwan
ang siyang magsasabi na ang pag-ibig ko'y sadyang tunay
araw gabi ang panaginip ko'y ikaw...

[translation]
one bright night,
I was waiting for my lovely girl
my heart was pining
and my mind was often dreaming
Look my darling at the witnesses of my love
sparkling stars, starshine and the light of the moon
will tell you that my love is true
day and night my dream is of you...

The Friar's Daughter

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Fri, 03 Dec 2010 10:37:00 +0000

I came across this book, and thought I'd share it with everyone. It's a really sad story. :( I think I can figure out who some of the characters really are, though.

Dear people of Hongkong, I'm sorry

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Wed, 25 Aug 2010 11:13:00 +0000

Even these words are inadequate for the loss you and yours suffered last Monday, August 23. I can only say this, on my behalf and that of my family and the people close to my heart: We are sorry that such a thing has happened in our land, to ones who were and should have been our honored guests.

In the light of the recent tragedy, it is ironic that one of the things we Filipinos have always prided ourselves on is hospitality. Most of us have been taught from early childhood that guests should be well taken care of, that no harm or trouble should touch them while they are with us. That one of our own, even if he were deranged, should commit such an atrocity is horrifying.

Along with the world, we were watching last Monday as the events at Quirino Grandstand unfolded. Along with the world, many of us were shocked, horrified, and greatly angered by what we saw. We did not expect, we did not want things to escalate the way they did. Many things went wrong, and the errors proved to be fatal.

As I watched the events unfold on live television, I was wondering whether it had occurred to the media that the hostage-taker was also watching the coverage or knowing of it in some way. I was asking why it did not seem to matter to them or to the police if the gunman knew what was being planned to be done against him. If the police had remembered that the hostage-taker had been one of them and presumably knew what they would do, what they should have been trained to do, in order to neutralize him and save his hostages. At the end, when the police were trying to get into the bus, I was all but screaming at the TV, asking why they did not seem to know what they were doing. Many of us were mortified at the level of incompetence that was exhibited that day, resulting in the loss of many lives. So much could have been done in a different manner.

Today, I saw those photographs circulating on the Internet about people who had their pictures taken in front of the bus as if it were a tourist spot. It is not my place to speak on the behalf of the people who were in those photographs; if I could censure them for their apparent disrespect, I would. There are no excuses that I can make; it was a thoughtless, disgraceful act. Again, I am sorry.

We have lost face before the whole world. And we have to live with it.

I understand your anger and grieve with your loss. I wish that there was something I could do to make amends for the great wrong that we have done to you, aside from pushing for changes in my country so that such a horrifying thing will not happen again.

The best lesson I ever learned in Math class wasn't about Math

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Wed, 07 Jul 2010 04:03:00 +0000

When I was a bratty eleven-year-old first year high school student who thought she knew a lot about the world even at her young age, teacher evaluation time came around in our national high school. I don't know if this practice still prevails, but at that time, the students were given survey forms and asked to evaluate their teachers anonymously. Although the forms were the kind where you rated certain factors on a scale of one to ten, there was a space at the bottom where you could write "further comments and suggestions." Needless to say, all hell broke loose. It was the first time the students had ever been given that much power: to say what they thought of their teachers without fearing retribution. And we used it with a vengeance.

"Miss X always wears short skirts even though she does not have good legs." "Mrs. Y is boring. Why does she keep making us memorize those boring dates?" "Why do we need to learn math? Will the world end if we don't know the value of 3x + y? And the teacher teaching the subject is ugly, too." "Mr. D should lower his voice. He always startles me." "Mrs. G does not know how to iron her clothes correctly. Why does she come to class in wrinkled clothes? It's as wrinkled as the way she teaches."

Ah, the harshness of the young desperate to prove that despite their age, they knew something, thought something, should be applauded for something, should be lauded for pointing out the ills of society which they thought nobody else had noticed.

What we did not realize was that the teachers themselves were able to read the comments. Although they did not know who wrote which exact comment, they did know which class certain comments came from. Boy, did we not know what was in store for us that day that all our teachers marched into class carrying the survey sheets.

"Class, before we begin, I want to ask you something," Mrs. G began. She was the math teacher who got criticized for her looks and her clothes, and let's face it, math was definitely the least favorite subject in our class.

She held up a piece of white paper with a small inkblot on it.

"Can you tell me what this is, class?"

We all stared at her like she was crazy, and finally someone said, "That's an inkblot, ma'am." "Yeah, an inkblot," someone else chimed in. "That's an inkblot all right," everyone chorused.

"So it's an inkblot, class?"

"Yes, ma'am, what else could it be?"

"I have one more question for you, class. Why is it that you saw only the small inkblot and did not see the white paper?"

Total silence.

"Class," she said in a strong yet trembling voice, "your teachers are doing their best to give you an education. Sometimes you don't like your subjects, sometimes you think certain things are stupid, sometimes you even think your teachers are stupid. You are certainly free to question many things, but you forgot that everything is capable of being viewed in different ways. What if your teacher likes to wear short skirts because she can walk better in them? Do only people with good legs have the right to wear short skirts? If your teacher is ugly, does that reflect on her qualifications to teach you math? What if your teacher had to cook food and iron the clothes of her husband and children first, and had to leave off ironing her own clothes for last, so that she was not able to iron them at all because she would be late for class? Does that reflect on her knowledge of the subject she is trying to teach you? Class, I know you're one of the most intelligent classes I've ever taught in all my years in this school. But you forgot that your teachers are people, too. Why did you see only the inkblot, no matter how small, but did not even mention the white paper that was bigger?"

I am sure we all came home from school in a reflective mood that day. I certainly did. Why did we see the inkblot, and not the paper? Why did we take pains to detail all the things that we didn't like about our teachers, and did not ever mention anything positive? Perhaps it was because the paper was a given. It was there in the background; it went without saying. Perhaps it was because we thought the teachers were already too full of their power and their supposed infallibility as teachers, and they needed to be taken down a notch. (Most of us did hold the attitude that teachers and authority figures were not to be questioned or doubted, although my teachers would later tell me that that was not true of me, as I was their enfant terrible and some of them lived in fear that I would blurt out something they could not answer and put them to shame.) Perhaps we thought that there had already been a lot of positive things said about our teachers and that nobody had ever bothered to point out that there were things about them that were not so positive. We did forget one thing, as Mrs. G said: Everything can be viewed in many different ways. As with the donut and the hole, it depends on how you look at it. To dwell on just one aspect of it, however, would not be fair to the others, especially if you magnify it to the point that it is made to appear the sum total of the thing. If you see only the inkblot, what about the paper?

Also, she said, teachers are people, too. People should be treated with basic courtesy, with respect for what we call their human dignity. As there are always different ways to view things, so too are there different ways to state things: some offensively, others courteously but no less firmly. I realized that she was trying to tell us that although you may not agree with someone, although you may question someone, you should always keep in mind that he/she is also a person, that you can express that disagreement and doubt in a manner that is courteous without being less forceful. That you can argue with or criticize someone without calling them names.

"Class, most of all," Mrs. G said that day, "it would really help if you offered a solution to something if you must criticize it! Why criticize it, especially that harshly, if you cannot help the matter? You're only adding to the problem, not solving it." Well, yes. Although I might not agree fully with offering criticism only if you have a solution to propose, bashing really doesn't help, it just makes matters worse. Oftentimes bashing just serves to show off what a person thinks he or she knows, instead of correcting the problem. Instead of just pointing out the inkblot and making much of it, why not offer ways to erase it or turn it into something good?

----
Mrs. G, you know who you are. See, I never forgot your lesson. Thank you, Ma'am.

I went to the Inauguration

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Thu, 01 Jul 2010 12:04:00 +0000

(More photos here.)

Fortunately for me, my new landlady knocked on my door at 8:00 am on Wednesday, June 30, 2010, to ask me something, or else I wouldn't have woken up in time to make it to Luneta and would have been contented to watch it on TV instead. I had been debating with myself for the past few days whether or not I would make the effort to go to the Aquino-Binay inauguration. (It's a holiday! It looks like rain! You'll go alone and there'll be a huge crowd. So what? You went to Cory's wake by yourself too, and waited in line for four hours along with hundreds of other people. You can watch it on TV. Nothing beats the real thing. There are too many people there already, your presence won't matter. What does it matter, this is history in the making!)

In the end, it was that "history in the making" thing that convinced me. I had read stories in the past, about people who attended presidential inaugurations, and about how it felt to be there, when Quezon, when Magsaysay, became president. When I was still in Mindanao watching events such as this on TV, my siblings and I would sigh and say, Ah, if only we lived in Manila, we would surely be there as well. Now, here I was... why was I dawdling?

A friend and I had been discussing it for days --we both voted for Noynoy Aquino-- and saying that we wanted to attend the inauguration. However, she bowed out at the last minute because she had to go home to the province. I knew everyone at home would be asking, did you go to the Luneta? Why didn't you? You were THERE!

So I donned something yellow, and sallied forth to Luneta. As I left the house, the little back alley I lived on was full of noise... all the neighbors had their radios on, and were listening to the broadcast coverage of the inauguration. I found a taxi immediately when I got to the main road. He said he had passed on Nagtahan just previously and met the convoy from Times Street going to Malacanang. It seemed I was just in time, since there would be protocols at Malacanang and I could still reach Luneta before the convoy did. The taxi let me off on UN Avenue, one block away from Roxas Boulevard, because the rest of the way was closed. I walked a bit on UN, crossed over to Kalaw, and joined the rest of the crowds headed in one direction-- Quirino Grandstand. It was some time past 10:00 am, and I heard the program would begin at 11:00 am.

Everybody I passed or walked with or behind seemed in a festive mood. There were old people and teenagers, friends and neighbors, even entire families dressed in varying shades of yellow. Some brought food (I brought a can of Nescafe Latte, which I was chug-a-lugging on the way, as I was too excited to have a proper breakfast). People all around were smiling.

After a few minutes of walking, I finally crossed Roxas Boulevard and plunged into the stream of people and vendors on the sidewalk. There were so many things being sold... food, commemorative pins and badges, yellow hats and umbrellas, caps and t-shirts, even birds. I stopped to buy a button for my bag (and promptly lost it after I'd walked a few steps, but luckily spotted the loss and was able to retrieve it before someone else picked it up or trampled it). The crowd was getting thicker, although there was still ample space to walk. Music was blaring from loudspeakers.

Things got a little tense at the gate into the grounds, though, because there already was a bottleneck and some people at the back were pushing. I got into a line that made the wrong turn and came up against a barrier, and we all had to go around and look for the gate. Finally we found it, and after some pushing and being pushed, got through.

At first, looking at the crowd, I was afraid I'd never be able to see anything, because there seemed to be so many people there. When I got a little further, though, the crowd thinned out and there was ample space to stand and look around. The day was overcast and there was no direct sunlight, but it was still kind of hot and many people had their umbrellas up, prompting people at the back to call to them to take the umbrellas down, the yells of "Pa-yong! pa-yong!" blending into the general chant of "Noy-noy! Bi-nay!" and "noy-bi!"

It seemed I had arrived just in time, as the big LED screens ahead showed the ex-President and the new President getting out of the car. People around me began shouting "Babay Gloria, umalis ka na (Goodbye Gloria, go away now)" and when she finally got back into the car a while later, a lot of them waved at the screen and laughed. "Sa wakas, aalis na rin siya! (Finally, she's leaving!)" I heard a woman beside me say.

I realized that the oath-taking was traditionally at noon, and that there was still some time before that. Vice President Jejomar Binay was arriving in his electric jeepney -- I learned later there was some to-do about his being "late." After that, things kind of blurred into one song number after another, with the accompaniment to "Sabihin mo, ikaw ay Filipino" serving as background music for the most part. Charice Pempengco rendered the National Anthem beautifully (Ha! Let the NHI find fault with THAT! I thought) although some people behind me complained afterwards that it was very fast. I remembered, though, that the anthem was originally a march, so I figured the tempo was just about right. Noel Cabangon also sang "Mabuting Filipino" which I had previously heard him sing at an event we held last year at PLM, and his iconic "Kanlungan" which had people around me singing too.

Finally, the Vice President stood up to take his oath, and after him, the President. People around me were rapt, craning their necks and listening to the words being broadcast over the speakers. The Laban sign was being flashed everywhere.

The President's inaugural speech was well-received by the crowd, who cheered spontaneously at key points and laughed when he said "magtatapos na ang pagtitiis ng sambayanan... Ito naman po ang umpisa ng kalbaryo ko. (The people's sufferings are about to end... now my calvary begins.)" I looked around me; everyone was intent upon his words (a rare occurrence!), as if he were speaking to each and every one of us. I thought to myself; this is why I'm here. That is MY president up there. Let him prove to be worthy of the trust that we have placed in him, in who he is, in who we hope he would be.
(Read transcript of the entire speech, with English translation here.)

A weird thing happened as I stood there, looking and listening. I could see only the roof of the grandstand from my vantage point, but had a fine view of the LED screen in front. As I watched, as I listened, it seemed to me that I could hear at times the voice of Ninoy and Cory Aquino, as I had heard them speak in recordings and video clips before. It seemed to me at times that their faces overlay that of their son's as he spoke. The thought occurred to me again: Had Ninoy and Cory ever thought, when they looked at Noynoy as a boy, that he would be the Benigno Aquino who would become President someday?

After the president's speech, there was a "people's pledge" where representatives of various sectors, as well as the audience, promised to work with the government to reduce corruption and make the country a better place. It was a proud moment for me, as I stood there with my right hand raised and watched everyone around me raise their own hands and repeat the words of the pledge as they were spoken.

Even when the program was already over, people seemed to be reluctant to leave. Many still stood in their places, looking thoughtful, as I headed for the exit. Now that I had seen my president sworn into office (how I'd worried before that even though he'd be elected, something might happen to prevent this day!) I suddenly realized that I hadn't eaten a thing yet that day. As I walked down Roxas Boulevard to look for somewhere to eat, the clouds that had been so thick during the entire program parted, and the sun shone brightly.

Globe Tattoo Internet is not for people on a budget

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Wed, 23 Jun 2010 16:47:00 +0000

I do not recommend Globe Tattoo Internet to people on a budget.

Professionals, students with ample allowances, and those who want portable Internet without consideration for the price at which it comes, would be much better off. Globe after all does have a reasonably wide coverage across the archipelago; I am just not familiar with how its coverage compares to Smart's nowadays, considering that there's Smart Bro to contend with as well. Otherwise, if you only stay in Manila and have a good signal from Sun, there's that to consider as well... and Sun did start the unlimited internet for a fixed charge/time thing. I really need to be able to save up enough for Sun prepaid broadband and see if I fare better with it. At the moment I can't afford to buy another USB modem so I am stuck with Globe Tattoo and I mean stuck.

I've been a Globe internet user for over a year now; I started with Visibility and changed to Tattoo when it came out. My problem has always been the erratic signal. I live on the third (and highest) floor of a house located in an area reasonably high enough to not have been flooded in last year's Ondoy, and while Globe's signal there is strong at times, it also keeps dropping or cutting off every seven to ten minutes, which renders the P5/15 minutes charge illusory if you spend half of that time just waiting for a website to load because your signal just dropped. To tell the truth, my Visibility started out well; there were many times that its speed rose to 2mbps and hovered there for the duration of the session. I theorize it's because there were only a few users at that time to share in the bandwidth. That only lasted for a month or so, maybe two, before things fell apart.

(Backgrounder of my Globe Tattoo experience here.)
I spend a lot of time on the Internet... nine hours a day, five days a week at work, plus maybe another one to three hours when I get home. I used to run through P60 a night just doing my daily rounds of websites at the normal rate of P20 an hour. When the problems with the fluctuating speed started, that P60 wasn't enough because I could run through it in less than three hours. Why? Because once the signal drops and you get disconnected, you get charged another P5 every time you reconnect. Reconnect five times in an hour and you get charged with P25 instead of P20 and would have spent half that time waiting for a page to load.

Okay, so Globe Supersurf50 comes along. It seems a sweet deal: all the Internet time you care to spend for P50. Since I normally spend three hours a night on the Internet at home, I thought it would be a good deal because I wouldn't get charged every time I disconnect and reconnect, and I would have saved P10. Oh, except of course for the fact that you need to have an extra P5 load in order to use your internet.

You'd think of course that oh, it's for 24 hours, so if I register at such and such a time, I shall be able to use it for tonight and tomorrow night until this time. But sorry! Registering to Globe Supersurf50 is also erratic. You can't be sure that you will automatically get registered at once. Aaand. When you need to register, count on Murphy's Law to strike: when you're down to your last P55 and you need to maximize that, you may depend upon it that you will never be able to register. It always happens to me. You'll just keep receiving that maddening: Sorry hindi pa ma-process ang iyong request. Please try again later. And don't even try to register at around midnight. That's the worst time. I once even joked that Globe must be able to detect that I am down to my last P50 so that it could chisel me out of it in exchange for the smallest amount of Internet time possible, because whether I like it or not I'll have to connect to the Internet to get things done even if I am not registered to Globe Supersurf50. And what does Globe care about people on a budget anyway? We are not big spenders, after all; they only get about P50 a day (or 30% of the daily allowance I allocate myself) from each of us. I once even wondered that since there are websites where you have to check in at a certain time daily to be able to win a certain game, and you've invested a lot of time and money in it but your internet connection caused you to lose at the last minute because it's erratic, could you sue your provider for damages? Or what if you were a freelance writer/editor or a pro blogger on a deadline that your erratic internet caused you to miss? Ah, those would be interesting cases, I'm sure.

Oh, and here's another thing although I am not sure if it's related to the problem: the USB tends to heat up after some time and might possibly contribute to the weaker signal. Sometimes it says "cannot detect, reconnecting," and when I touch the USB it's hot. I have to keep the electric fan aimed at the laptop and the Tattoo USB (and not necessarily at myself) since I'm not rich enough to afford an aircon (and the electric bill for one, especially at Meralco's current rates).

So if you're someone with a relatively bigger income than most, and you need portable Internet without having to consider how much you spend on it, by all means get Globe Tattoo. If you're an indulgent parent who's okay with giving your child an Internet connection and allocates more than P50/day for him to spend on it, same thing; but then maybe DSL would be better and faster and more economical in the long run. If you're a student who's used to being given an ample allowance and Internet money by doting parents, and need a portable Internet connection because you're not able to be in places with free wifi all the time, then why not get Globe Tattoo.

But if you're an office worker, a parent, or a student with a fixed budget of, say, P50/ two days to spend on internet time and you're thinking of getting a Globe Tattoo, I'd advise you to forget it. You'd just break your heart and spend more than you wanted to. Just go to Internet cafes: they have faster and more reliable Internet connections, you get your money back in case of connection problems, and some offer a rate of P25 /two hours or P50/five hours as well, which is more than you can expect from Globe Tattoo.

I'm voting for Ang Ladlad party-list

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Fri, 07 May 2010 07:02:00 +0000

Just because I'm straight doesn't mean I'm not voting for Ang Ladlad party-list on Monday.

Logically, I should vote for a women's rights party-list. Or something. But, I figured, there are many women's and children's rights advocates in Congress already. On the other hand, there are no LGBT rights advocates.

This is a decision that crystallized, actually, long before the infamous Comelec decision on Ang Ladlad, and its subsequent overturn by the Supreme Court.

Credit it, in part, to BB Gandanghari. Yes, that BB Gandanghari and her “Be all that you can be” thing, when she tried to explain the death of heartthrob Rustom Padilla and the birth of BB Gandanghari. Assigned to write articles about her, I had to find a deeper understanding of the larger picture, the situation of the LGBTs, in order to do justice to her story. This article was one of the results, the reason why I can easily address a member of the LGBT sector by the gender he/she prefers, in BB's case, “she.”

When Comelec came out with their homophobic decision to disqualify Ang Ladlad as a party list, I was one of those who reacted in indignation. The memory of BB and Dee came back full-force: why deny them the representation they so badly need in Congress? If women's and children's rights groups had representation, why not the LGBTs? Even security guards could be granted representation, but not, it seemed, a much-maligned and misunderstood, often denigrated and overlooked, substantial sector of our society clearly in need of representation. Ang Ladlad did not disappoint me; they fought it out all the way to the highest tribunal in the land. When the Supreme Court decision came out, I cheered.

That does it, I said. That's the party-list I'm voting for. They want representation, they fought for it, they deserve to get it. Besides, I asked myself, in which other congress in the world do LGBTs have a voice in their own right? Perhaps this is the first. And I want to give them, if only for once, that victory.

BB, Dee, and all the LGBTs out there: This vote's for you.

WTF Globe SuperSurf50 sucks...at least you fixed it. I hope.

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Sat, 01 May 2010 08:42:00 +0000

Dear Globe,

WTF. I was saving up to get a Sun Cellular broadband modem because it has unlimited one day internet for P50. With that, at least, I wouldn't worry so much over dropped signals and having to pay P5 each time I connected even if the connection sucked. With you I was paying P5 each time I connected whether or not I spent the full 15 minutes or the signal dropped and disconnected me after one minute. Do you know how much that adds up when you have something to do on the internet and your connection sucks?

Yes, you say it's only P20 for an hour. That's if the connection doesn't fluctuate and disconnect and is fast. Sometimes I get charged as much as P50 within an hour because of your bad connection. 10kpbs, you have got to be kidding me. With your connection, I am always better off paying P25 for two hours at an internet cafe... I pay only P5 more, get twice the time, get more done, and don't worry about bad connections. Your service really really sucks, and your people just mouth platitudes and reassurances. I don't even believe them anymore. I don't even make customer complaints anymore. Nothing comes of it.

The problem is that someone like me, who only rents a room here in Manila, can't really afford DSL. I can't even imagine the billing nightmare that would present each time I moved to another boarding house. But I blog, and my job also necessitates an internet connection in case of emergencies and me needing to check in on work while at home, or out of town. So I got your broadband... cheap, portable and versatile. Only it is costing me more than I ever bargained for. Don't get me wrong, there are good days. The wee hours of the mornings on weekends, for example, when no one else is up. Then your signal shoots to the full 3 mbps. The only problem is, I have to wait until that time in order to surf properly. You mean to say, I shouldn't sleep anymore just to take advantage of that good signal?

I was happy when SuperSurf50 came out. Ah, at last, I said, this will cut down on my expenses. I am already spending around P50 a day on internet anyway. So I registered. It was fun, the first time I registered, even though I really only spent the amount of time I'd have normally spent P50 for. At least I didn't need to count the number of times I had to click the connect button again.

Then, when I wanted to re-register after, I thought, 24 hours had passed and my Supersurf50 would have expired, I received a message saying that I was still registered to Supersurf50. What, I thought. Glitch. Delay. I waited some time before registering again. And got the same message. I finally did a balance inquiry of the Supersurf50. No surprise,

"Sorry, you are not registered to Globe Tattoo SUPERSURF. For 1day unlimited internet surfing, txt SUPERSURF50 to 8888, P50. For 5days, txt SUPERSURF220 to 8888, P220. Shld maintain P5 to use the svc. For help, txt SUPERSURF HELP to 8888 for FREE."

The problem is, that was last night. Until now I am still getting the same problem. And your signal right now is dismal... 15 kbps, you must seriously be kidding me. I do not want to connect to that, with my last P70. It'd eat up my remaining balance in no time. But you are not letting me register to SuperSurf50 either.

I've been a Globe user for over five years now and do feel some loyalty towards you, which is why I bought your Globe Tattoo, but I keep thinking I should have gone and bought Sun Cellular broadband instead of getting up false hopes, because your internet is running me into the ground.

P.S. I did the screenies and composed this blog post offline. Even then, just uploading the screenies, copy-pasting the text, saving and publishing it took me more than 15 minutes! That's already P10 off my remaining P70.

Update: (May 5, 2010)
Well, finally, Globe. I've been able to register to Supersurf50 without a hitch. Though signal still fluctuates, I'm not so worried about my connection anymore. Thank you for fixing that. It gives me hope.

Poster kids

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 02:23:00 +0000

Ito ang Teresa St. sa Sta. Mesa. Nagmukhang piyesta, pero ang nakasabit na banderitas puro may mukha ng pulitiko. Akala ko ang karatula sa nagmistulang arko sa dulo ng kalye'y pangalan ng lugar, iyon pala'y banner ni Sandy Ocampo, kung sino man siya.

Napakarami talaga ng nakasabit. Hapon na nga lang nang kunan ko ito at medyo naghihingalo na ang battery ko, kaya eto, madilim ang litrato. Hindi ko na lang sasabihing lalong pinadilim ng mga nakasabit na tinatakpan ang langit.

O, di ba, ang ganda ng banderitas. Este, "guwapo" pala. Kung sino man siya.

Pati sa papuntang Albina St., sa gilid ng simbahan, aba'y Abante, para sa Bayan!

Pati poste sa basketball court ng Teresa ay hindi pinalampas ng mga may dalang pandikit. Sana lang may dala rin silang pantanggal pagkatapos ng halalan.

Hindi ko alam kung ito ang official posting area ng Comelec sa Teresa, ang alam ko lang, nakukyutan ako sa posters ni Mayor Lim at sadyang kakaiba.

O di ba, kakaiba? Parang front page ng dyaryo? Ang batas ay para sa lahat daw, o. Nga naman.

Poster ni dating Mayor Atienza, ewan ko kung sinong nagdikit sa pader dito sa eskinita. Ang mas gusto kong malaman ay ang kung sino'ng nagdrowing ng bungi sa ngipin niya, at tila ata siya'y ngumuya pa ng nganga.

Dito naman sa kabilang pader, may katabi si dating Mayor. LOL.

Hindi ko alam kung anong street to... Castaneda, Ocampo, o.. Boy sino? Napakarami naman kasing karatulang may pangalan. Linawin nyo naman.

Ito ang pinakamatindi. Huhulaan ko, supporter nina Atienza at Joey Uy to at ginawa na yatang wallpaper sa labas ng bahay nila ang mga poster nitong mga kandidato.

Photos by Laya. Licensed under Creative Commons BY-NC-SA-3.0-Philippines.

I want a man!

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 11:47:00 +0000

Ohoho, the raised eyebrows. The shock on your faces. It tickles my funnybone.

I actually first thought of titling this "where have all the nice guys gone?" Then, having read all the rants asking why girls pass over nice guys in favor of guys who are not so nice, who mostly treat them like dirt, and enumerating all the virtues of the nice guys that the girls have passed over, I realized: I don't really want a nice guy as described in those rants-- I want a man. That word implying not just a nice guy, but a guy who can stand up for himself, who knows his own mind, speaks it, and acts on it.

Sooooo...

I don't really want just a nice guy-- I want a man.

I wouldn't mind a nice guy. I wouldn't mind a shoulder to cry on, a pat on the back, having doors opened for me. I would appreciate it very much if a guy waited outside the department store dressing room for me without grumbling (and passed honest and appreciative judgment on whatever I tried on). But, as a friend of mine once said, it's to a girl's advantage to have a guy best friend-- most of the advantages of having a boyfriend with none of the advantages (er, guy best friends, you know I love you, come back here).

It's just that I'd like a guy to be more assertive. Girls like bad boys, so they say-- and being a girl myself, I'd say it's because the bad boys are always so assertive. If they want you, they tell you without hemming and hawing about it. A girl does like being swept off her feet once in a while. If we already know you are a nice guy, it won't tarnish your image if you threw caution to the winds sometimes. As Amelia Peabody Emerson once told her son in one of Elizabeth Peters' books, a lady might like it when a gentleman finds her beauty so irresistible that it overcomes his scruples. So you may dance attendance on a certain girl all you want, but unless you decide to cross the line, the girl won't think of you as anything more than a best friend, even though she might have entertained the thought that perhaps you were having different feelings for her. As long as you act like a best friend, you'll get treated like one, because the girl won't be able to read your mind and won't want to assume something that isn't there. (Go watch the K-Drama Shining Inheritance. Pay close attention to Sun Woo Hwan and Park Jun Se.) Then, when a badder guy than you comes into her life and latches on to her first, she will turn her attention to him... and even if you confess after that it will be too late. She saw him first, and she might think that you just realized you liked her as more than a friend when she was already with somebody else. Either way, once someone gets her attention ahead of you, you're doomed, unless the other guy is such a jerk that she realizes you're a knight in shining armor in comparison. But even then, human nature being kind of tunnel-vision in that way, it's a long shot.

I know someone who does the best-friend routine as a way of weeding out the wimps from the men. She calls them all "kuya," and waits to see if someone would dare to break the "kuya" assumption. Until now, she bewails the fact that even when the guys show signs of interest in her, none of them ever tells her that they felt any differently. One of our other friends told her that it was likely none of them ever would because they thought she would not be interested in them aside from being a friend. Which begs the question: Does the guy only show open interest, then, when the girl does? To me that would be wimpy... why should it be the girl that first crossed the line? The guy who would wait for the girl to do that is not worth crossing the line for. Corollarily, a girl who would still deny you once you crossed that line for them either really isn't interested in you apart from friendship and will act that way, or go on with that "we're just friends" schtick but take advantage of your feelings, in which case they're probably not worth it.

Sometimes, too, guys simply seem too good to be true (and have girls secretly asking themselves the questions: Is he a saint? No wait... is he gay?). Then they begin to doubt themselves: If he's a saint... then he's too good for me and I don't deserve him. We're illogical that way. If he's gay, then I shouldn't fall for him as I might just get hurt if he rejects me. It's that "too good" thing that really traps us. (Go read Jane Eyre and watch Queen Seon Deok. Pay attention to St. John Rivers and Edward Rochester in the former, and to Yushin and Bidam in the latter... then ask yourself why Jane fell for Rochester and Seon Deok fell for Bidam. Until now I want to whack the quintessential nice guy Yushin on the head with a palu-palo for being too nice. He had Seon Deok right there... and he stepped aside and let her fall for somebody else.)

The part about not wanting to ruin a friendship also rings true: for girls who've been dumped, friends probably last more than boyfriends. In which case she wants to keep you for as long as she can, logic being that boyfriends come and go, but friends are forever. So you're more important to her, really. It's up to you to prove it to her that a best friend can be a boyfriend; better yet, that a best friend can be a boyfriend who will never leave. Otherwise, she'll settle for half a loaf... a friend who will always be around, even if she has to share him with other people.

All of this really poses an knotty dilemma. Some people who put emphasis on trust might view falling in love with a friend as a betrayal of that trust. A guy may be hesitant of telling a girl his feelings because she might feel that he really wanted something else all along and was just stringing her along with his talk of friendship; a girl might think, and for good reason, that a guy friend would leave if she fell for him. It happens. It comes to an impasse between one's own concept of what is honorable and what is not. If you really were just going through a nice guy act just to get laid, then "get thee away," you're worse than the baddest of bad boys, and don't have the right to gripe about how nice guys finish last, because you really aren't a nice guy at heart.

A real man, on the other hand, to me is a completely different thing. He'd be the guy who does all the things the nice guys do but knows when to put his foot down. He'd be the guy who'd tell me honestly, but nicely, what he feels, and who'd have the strength to face whatever I told him in return. He'd insist that I stop playing around and give him a straight answer, instead of giving in to me every time I dragged him along as "a symbolic warm body for my ego." A real man has enough self-respect not to let me make a fool out of him, and enough respect for me to speak to me honestly about how I make him feel. He would know how to be supportive and protective without being suffocating, and how to let me do my own thing without being too compliant.

So yes, I really don't want a nice guy. Bring on the men.

Eavesdropped conversations on the 2010 elections

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 02:17:00 +0000

Has it always been this way? Or has this year's elections made a lot of people think more over who to choose for public office this time around?

(I can't help it. I eavesdrop a lot when people talk loud enough for me to hear. Just following advice I read somewhere in a book on how to write fiction. LOL.)

A friend of mine told me that her 19-year-old younger brother approached her about the elections. He asked her for advice on whom to choose and how to choose, as he will be a first-time voter. What surprised her, she said, was that he asked the question at all, as he is sort of a happy-go-lucky tambay and sometime tricycle driver who rarely, if ever, asks his elders for advice on serious questions.

Cursing Globe Tattoo's wonky internet and the summer heat, I fled the house for my suking internet cafe noontimes last holiday weekend (free aircon, faster computer, faster internet service at P50/5 hours; beat that, Globe!). While I was catching up with various online friends, someone mentioning the names of politicians somewhere behind me caught my attention. The cafe owner, an amiable former OFW who often spends weekends playing DoTA and other MMORPGS with the patrons of his cafe along with his nurse/MMORPG-playing wife, was holding court at the counter among the "DoTA boys" who were perhaps waiting for their other friends to arrive since they were not playing yet. To my surprise, these guys, whom I remember more for yelling imprecations at one another at the tops of their voices whenever a game was in full swing, were discussing the pros and cons of voting for this or that presidentiable. They narrowed their choices down to two: Gibo Teodoro and Dick Gordon; the lone voice who suggested Manny Villar was jeered out. Gibo was gravely considered (good workable platform, articulate, intelligent) and somberly discarded (he's admin, we never know what he might do once in power), and Gordon was settled upon (Subic made good, he's had experience in administration).

Recently too, I met a friend from home for lunch, and she filled me in on local politics, alliances shifting, friendships rearranged. As she works in our munisipyo, she said they'd conducted a recent spot survey among our kababayans for the national elections. What came up was interesting. Villar; no, he has too many issues and his ads are getting to be annoying. Noynoy; he's not his parents. Gibo; he would have been good were he not affiliated with the administration. The others were dismissed as relative unknowns... and we were left with Gordon, who was perhaps not as annoying as Villar, not as too-good-for-his-own-good as Noy, and not as identified with the Arroyo administration as Gibo.

The neighbors drinking at their habitual tables set out in our alley in own own stinking little corner of this metro also seem to be discussing a lot of politics everytime I pass by, interspersed with their problems with their wives and children and work or lack thereof. Villar and Gibo were also eliminated as possibilities for the reasons above mentioned, while Gordon was taken into consideration, although they seemed to be leaning heavily in favor of Noynoy.

It gives me hope.

Adsense fail

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 17:35:00 +0000

Let me get one thing straight. I am not endorsing any candidates.

I just noticed that the adsense ads on my blog are showing ads for Manny Villar and Loren Legarda. I am not endorsing any of those candidates, or any candidates for that matter, and most certainly NOT those two. Although I haven't yet settled on a president, those two are out of the running as far as I'm concerned. I have now blocked political ads in my Adsense. /looks annoyed/

In protest of more local adaptations of foreign TV shows

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 17:06:00 +0000

I saw a picture that had been making the rounds lately... a rumored Filipino adaptation (and we've been getting a lot of those lately) this time of Meteor Garden. Remember it? San Cai and the four boys of F4, which spawned such F4 mania that my mom still has F4 placemats and coasters to this very day. As we all know, Meteor Garden was but one of the small-screen adaptations of a popular manga... the other adaptations include Hanayori Dango and Boys over Flowers. I admit to being one of those who watched Meteor Garden off and on during the height of the F4 fever just to find out what the fuss was all about. While I did appreciate the charms of the four guys that made up F4, I couldn't help but think that it was the very foreign-ness of the series that made its quirks palatable to Pinoy audiences. I mean, really, what self-respecting Pinoy 'kada, in view of the "macho" Pinoy culture, would call itself the "Flower Four?"

On the heels of the rumored Meteor Garden adaptation comes the rumors of yet another adaptation of a foreign TV series, this time a personal favorite: Shining Inheritance, which had only concluded its Philippine run early this January. I don't think you'll find a fan of that drama in these islands more devoted than I am, but all I could think upon hearing the rumor was : Oh, shoot no, you'll ruin it for me! I had been thinking recently, what if Shining Inheritance had a sequel, since I hated that it had to end. But then I thought... nah, it's best that way, to leave it as it is. It's the chemistry between the characters of Hwan and Eun Sung that made it so great to watch, and Lee Seung Gi and Han Hyo Joo played them well. I don't want them to be superseded by another Juan and Inna. For that matter, I watched the series in both the original Korean with subtitles on the internet and the Tagalog dub on TV, and was annoyed with some of the changes in the dialogue, as sometimes perhaps the original words did not fit with the character's lip movements when translated, or perhaps the dubbers thought that the Filipino audience would not understand references to Korean culture, I don't know. For me, since the series was after all Korean, the references to Korean culture was part of the whole parcel and I was glad to learn something new.

Let's face it, local TV nowadays is full of derivative shows, either sequels to old shows, remakes of old movies or soaps, or local adaptations of foreign series. Everything is something old made over. It gives new meaning to the old adage that "Filipinos are great imitators," doesn't it? We've got the local versions of Deal or No Deal, Who Wants to be a Millionaire, Survivor, even Pinoy Idol. We have the Pinoy versions of Marimar, Ugly Betty, and now Full House... coming soon, Endless Love. Goddammit, can't you even give us something new to watch? What is this rut you guys are in? What's next, a local version of CSI or 24? Why can't you put on a series on Lapu-lapu, Bantugan, or Mga Ibong Mandaragit? Our school children know who Jumong and Jang Geum and Seon Deok are, but do they know who Maria Makiling and Bernardo Carpio are? They could probably name the hierarchies of old Korean nobility, but couldn't probably name all ten Bornean datus from the Maragtas (Datus Puti, Bangkaya, Lumbay, Balinsuna, Paiburong, Dumalogdog, Dumangsol, Padohinog, Sumakwel, Dumangsil.) They could learn Japanese or Chinese or Korean, but not Ilocano or Cebuano or Bikolano if those are not their native tongues.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that we should not learn something about other places. I'm just saying that it's just plain wrong that we don't pay as much attention to the richness of our own history and culture as we do to that of other places. Why does everything have to be an imitation of what's elsewhere? Why can't we create something that's uniquely Filipino? And don't give me any of that crap about it "not selling," about it being "not interesting enough." If you couldn't make the old stories, or stories about our own culture, interesting enough to sell, then you probably aren't good enough writers. And you have a captive audience, for goodness' sake. Look at the crap they swallow right now because there isn't anything better. I guess though, that it is easy for just any paid hack to churn out reams of derivative junk on formula. As long as it sells, it doesn't matter if it's junk, right? As long as the advertisers keep paying for ads, and people go on watching because there isn't anything better. If the Koreans could turn out beautiful versions of their own epics and capture a global audience, why can't we? Let's leave the foreign-made originals as they are, perfectly good originals that we all fell in love with, and create some good originals of our own.

Among the books I read in my early childhood were Nancy Drews and Hardy Boys. I was inspired to create something like that on my own, drawing characters from the people around me. The only problem was that they all ended up with American names, and I had written about twenty pages before it dawned on me that characters with American names do not live in a small barrio in the Philippines. I was about nine or ten years old, and the problem was that the American small town and its culture was more familiar territory to me in books than were the Philippine barrio and town. I would only learn much much later that it is always best to write about what you know, that no matter how fictitious your stories are, they should always be
rooted in something that is real to you in order for you to do justice to them. I ripped up what I had written and resolved from then on that I would always try to write about what I knew, with characters that were like the people around me, that I would try my best to come up with original stories and not derivations of those I read. From then on, I paid more attention to what was around me so that I could infuse local color into what I write. My recent NaNoWriMo effort, "The Secret of the Cottage," hearkens back to those stories I once wrote for fun when I was younger; the characters, Kat and her brothers Ian and Andy and her friends Pie and Michael and Eddie and Toffee could be any one of the people around me when I was growing up.

For God's sake, stop with these derivative things already and give us something new for a change.

Working holiday

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 00:20:00 +0000

Dear Congress and Malacanang,

Do you know the meaning of the word "oxymoron"? No, it's not a moron with too much oxygen in his brain.

Please stop designating "special working holidays."

A holiday is a day on which one is exempted from work. If we have to go to work on that day, then please don't call it a holiday at all, as you are only needlessly raising our expectations. Why don't you just call it a "special day" or "commemorative day" or something?

Kthxbai.

Hai yeah toos

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 10:00:00 +0000

In short, sorry for the hiatus, people. There were a lot of posts that never made it to this blog in that period of time I wasn't posting in it. For example, I was planning on my 30th birthday "midlife crisis" post which never materialized, lol. IDK... a natural reservation against baring all? A lot of other things have happened in the meantime, especially on the political scene, which I never got around to formulating concrete commentary over. Anyway, I'm back... I hope. LOL. *sticks charger in socket and zaps self*

Publicity for the sake of publicity

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 10:47:00 +0000

"If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' love those who love them. And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' do that. And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' lend to 'sinners,' expecting to be repaid in full."
-Luke 6: 32- 34

I promised myself that come the 2010 elections, I will not believe what TV, print and radio ads say about the candidates. It is hard to avoid these ads. They are everywhere: on TV in between segments of my favorite Koreanovela, on the radio when I'm in the taxi going to work, in the papers, even pasted on lampposts and hanging from street corners everywhere I turn.

So-and-so Congressman is a sponsor of this educational opportunity, such-and-such Councilor is the sponsor of this purok fiesta, this Senator is a pro-poor advocate, that one is the hope of the nation. Even the president is lauded as the benefactor of such-and-such livelihood program and scholarship. When the name of the politician is way bigger than that of the program / project / event he or she is supposed to be sponsoring, I end up wondering whether the said program / project / event is nothing more than a publicity gimmick to make that politician more visible to the public.

I guess that deep down, I believe that a candidate's track record and public life should speak for itself when it comes to elections. I am more inclined to be suspicious of and avoid candidates who never miss the opportunity to get themselves front and center of the cameras, the flashing lights, the microphone. Just like I always tell the writers I edit, "show, don't tell. Instead of describing such-and-such in generalized superlatives that don't mean anything, just set forth the facts and let them speak for themselves," so too I want to know the facts about the candidates and let them speak for themselves instead of listen to them blather on in glowing, grandiose rhetoric about their (public) beliefs, proposals and acts. But then, you tell me, that's politics.

Remember the film Constantine? It posed the question: If you do good in expectation of a reward, is the deed still "good" enough to merit such reward? Constantine, being a resuscitated suicide, was considered unworthy to enter heaven because he had, technically, killed himself. He kept on hunting, exorcising and killing demons in the hope that he would enter heaven. It may be argued, however, that the awareness that you are doing something not because it is good but because you hope to gain something from it has already cancelled out the reward. Thus, too, with the current politicians, I keep thinking that the moment they do something for publicity's sake and not for public service, the public service part of it has already been cancelled out by the publicity part. It's different when someone tries to get publicity for a cause. I'd be more inclined to accept that if someone put the cause ahead of themselves. But when someone acts as if the cause was there for their benefit... no thanks.

But tell me, which among the politicians, especially the presidentiables, that we have now do not have those ads and publicity gimmicks? Now that it is election time, they are everywhere, kissing babies, hugging old people, and promising reforms. Jokes are being cracked about politicians wanting the position not because they really want to serve the country, but because they only want the power and the benefits that come with the position. With that view... are there any politicians left that I might honestly wish to put into office? If I thought for just one second that writing "abstain" in all the places in my ballot would teach them a lesson, I'd do it. Unfortunately, that would just make my ballot irrelevant, and would just help to put someone else in power. The people who might have probably made a difference, if not in action, at least in mind shift, such as Ang Ladlad and Danny Lim, have been disqualified anyway.

This reminds me once again of the Katipunan, and Aguinaldo and Bonifacio. Bonifacio, who helped to found the Katipunan, who helped to lead the revolution from its early stages, ultimately was struck down by politicians who wanted to use the cause of the nation to further their own agenda. In the end, the people who wanted an independent nation were all gone, replaced by men who accepted a payoff in return for voluntary exile. Well, come to think of it... if that was the way this republic began, no wonder it's this way now, a century later.

Ides

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 14:46:00 +0000

Beware the ides of March, a soothsayer once told Julius Caesar. If it were March instead of December, perhaps the saying would have been appropriate for today.

As sarahcada, a plurk friend of mine, posted, "Today MS made a Plurk clone, a car exploded near our office, voters' reg is reopened, Mayon is erupting, and MS pulled out the Plurk clone."

And yes, Comelec released the official list of candidates for 2010, economist Paul Samuelson passed away, and the Yangtze dolphin was officially declared extinct. Sigh.

Bah. Humbug.

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 01:33:00 +0000

I was in the middle of the crush in Divisoria yesterday, looking for a black dress I needed for an upcoming event, when I happened upon a vendor of those small cheap "stuff toys" that look vaguely like a cross between pigs and bears and are wrapped in a sort of netting and tied at the top. All they're good for is sitting on your dresser and gathering dust, like cloth bric-a-brac. I should know. I've got some of them on my dresser, all "gifts" from people on some holiday or occasion or other.

There was this guy, making a selection among those stuffed toys, cradling about a half-dozen of them in his arms and choosing more. "Dagdagan mo pa, marami pa akong pagbibigyan (Add some more, I have many people to give these to)," I heard him tell the vendor as I pushed my way past them.

I wondered to myself why, of the myriad gift choices one can make in Divisoria, the guy ended up buying those. Was it because he couldn't think of anything more to give and these were the cheapest? Or that he didn't really care about what would happen to the gift, as long as he was able to give something? I couldn't help but think that it would just be a waste of money. All in the spirit of giving.

I remembered my own Christmas list. Family members and friends and godchildren. Many of them would be expecting at least some little gift from me, although a very few of them would manifest their disappointment if the gift didn't materialize. To many of them, there were so many things that I wanted to give, but because there are so many of them, my budget would be up in protest if I did what I wanted. After all, for the past several years, that's all my 13th-month pay has ever been good for-- Christmas presents, and the cost of either sending them through LBC or traveling to be able to give them out myself.

My aunt once asked, perhaps unwisely, why I didn't have any substantial savings to buy myself the things I needed for Christmas. She asked this on the occasion of my last trip home for that holiday, the bulk of my luggage being Christmas gifts. Since I had also just shelled out the better part of the cost for the noche buena, I snapped, "Because I keep spending it on tickets to go home, since you keep reproaching me that I can't even be home for that one holiday in the year that the family should be together. Because I keep spending it on gifts and presents for all of you, since you would say Paskong Pasko na nga lang, ang laki ng sweldo mo, hindi mo man lang kami maalala, Paskong Pasko na nga lang, nagdadamot ka pa (Even on Christmas, with a big salary, you couldn't even remember to give us something, even on Christmas, you would be stingy)."

I couldn't help but think: To hell with this Christmas thing. What if I didn't give anyone anything next year? Picture the sad faces of my godchildren, the surprise on the faces of my so-called friends, the annoyance on the faces of my family.

Don't get me wrong: I love giving. Sometimes I find excuses just to give people things. It's when the thing becomes an obligation, when people begin expecting me to give them things, that I begin to find it irksome, that the joy goes out of it. I end up looking for cheap gifts that don't really mean anything, like those stuffed thingies, just so I've fulfilled the obligation. I don't have an obligation to be nice and generous to everybody just because it's supposed to be Christmas, dammit. To tell the truth, I've given up believing in that holiday a while back-- it's just that old habits die hard.

I've been living on my own for the past five years. Christmas has ceased to be the wonderful thing that it used to be for me, for a long time now. It's ended up as just another day when there's no work; if I don't go to my parents' house, I end up spending it alone. If friends don't invite me to spend the holidays with them and their family, I do spend the holiday alone. Even then, spending the holidays with them just makes me sad because I know that I would not have had anywhere else to go, that I'm just a saling-pusa in their festivities. Even then, there have been one or two Christmases that I've spent sitting at the back of the church, crying.

For this Christmas, I am very seriously considering getting so stone-cold drunk that I will pass out and not wake up until the next day. To hell with it all.

Bah, humbug.

Thoughts on the Maguindanao massacre

noreply@blogger.com (Laya) — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 01:43:00 +0000

The taxi I took last night to get home had its radio tuned to GMA teleradyo, and the driver was listening to the news. Just as we entered the traffic along Araneta Ave., Jiggy Manicad's report on the Maguindanao Massacre came on, where he interviewed Buluan Vice-Mayor Toto Mangudadatu, who had finally seen the dead body of his wife, one of those killed in the massacre. By the time I reached my destination, I was already crying from sorrow, anger and frustration.

“My wife’s private parts were slashed four times, after which they fired a bullet into it. They speared both of her eyes, shot both her breasts, cut off her feet, fired into her mouth. I could not begin to describe the manner by which they treated her," Mangudadatu said, trying to hide the tremor in his voice. "I cannot cry. I have to show my people that I am strong," he added.

Two of Mangudadatu's sisters, Bai Eden and Bai Faridah, were also killed in the massacre. One of them was four months pregnant. One of their aunts, Bai Manguda, was also reported to have been with them.

Aside from the Mangudadatu family members and relatives, the massacre victims also included two female lawyers, one of whom also had her elderly father with her, many journalists, and even some people who were on their way to Cotabato City to consult a doctor, and whose vehicles had gotten into or near the convoy when it was attacked.

According to news reports, Mangudadatu said that there were witnesses who had been able to escape from the convoy and who said that the attackers belonged to the Ampatuan clan, whose stronghold was the town where the attack happened. He also said that his wife had managed to call him over the cellphone and tell him of the attack, that the attackers were forcing them to rip up the papers they were to file with the Comelec for his candidacy, that the attackers were forcing them to even eat and swallow those papers, before the call was cut off. In one of the interviews of him after news of the massacre came out, he said that he had already been threatened with death if he filed his candidacy for the governorship of Maguindanao, the incumbent of which is an Ampatuan, and that the reason his wife went to file the papers for him was that he thought they would not dare to attack women.

He learned all too soon how high the price was of losing the gamble he made.

The massacre has provoked an outcry, not only within the country, but in the international community as well. Media watchdog Reporters Sans Frontieres has already called it the worst media killing in one day in the history of journalism, because of the number of mediamen who were killed, covering what would been an ordinary news event.

Perhaps the reason why the massacre has provoked so many reactions is that it hits so deep and touches on so many nerves. The senseless and brutal gunning down of so many people for the simple reason that they were trying to exercise the right to run for office in a democracy, because they dared to challenge an incumbent in his own stronghold, is one. Another is that many of those killed were women, one of them even a pregnant woman. Still another is that among the victims were lawyers and journalists, members of professions which are by tradition to some degree entitled to protection, one for its function as mediators and negotiators, the other for its function as recorder and reporter. Yet another is that even bystanders who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time became collateral damage.

Try as I might, I cannot begin to fathom the mindset that would perpetrate and even condone the commission of such atrocities. The manner of killing, as well as the treatment of the dead bodies, by the (said to number about 100) killers, displays such contempt, such scorn towards the victims as to show that they regarded the people they killed to be nothing more than pieces of trash to be thrown out and destroyed. What sort of people are they? Are they still human, at all? What manner of environment, of upbringing, even only of personality, do they have that they can commit such things the same way a mad dog singlemindedly attacks everything in its path?

Arguing for the sake of argument without all these statements necessarily being the truth, if all the rumors were true, if Mangudadatu's allegation concerning the Ampatuans were true, if all of these were for the purpose of teaching a lesson to an "upstart" who dared to challenge the king, then the twisted rationale to the Maguindanao massacre would be this:

A politician, wishing to extend his area of influence, decides to run for office in his rival's territory, and this rival, who has so far enjoyed unlimited authority in said territory, becomes incensed at what he views as an insult to his honor. Instead, however, of letting the election process run its course, he decides to nip it off at the bud by making the first politician abandon his plan. But the former is determined; come the day of filing for candidacy, he has a brilliant idea and sends to file his papers in his stead the people who by law and tradition are entitled to protection and safe-conduct: women, ambassadors, mediators and scribes. It was a good plan; had his rival been a more reasonable person, he would have acknowledged his loss in the first round. But no, the rival's anger grows even more. How dared they? How dared this woman come here on behalf of her husband, thinking to outfox him in his own den? Very well, if she would enter the field, she would then be a player, and she would learn the price that losers pay. Let all their deaths be horrible, so that no one would dare to challenge the king again. So he orders, and so his orders are carried out.

The rival, however, forgets that his "kingdom" has long since been a part of a democracy, and that he is in that position technically not because he belongs to a clan that has long been regarded as royal, but because of the democratic processes of the country where he lives, and that any misuse and abuse of power would hold him liable for his misdeeds to the people of that country.

Even if he were made liable, he thinks, they would have to come and dig him out of his fortress first. Who would dare? After all, this is his territory and he has friends in high places. He once got them out of a tight spot; he played a key role in getting them where they are now. Let them return the favor; if he goes down, so will they.

(That's why I should be writing fiction instead. I'm good at cooking up conspiracy theories.)

A great deal of the indignation we now feel at this is fueled by what we perceive as impunity granted to these monstrous killers to murder anyone who stands in their way. It is an indignation born of the knowledge that the common man is nowhere safe, that even the legal processes meant to protect them may also be their downfall if they do not have the money or influence to protect their rights. That it is always easy for one to earn a place in a cage when he is sufficiently non-entity enough. That on the other hand, one who deserves to be put in a cage can always avoid it or walk out of it at will if he had the money or influence. It is an indignation born of the realization that even monsters can go on a killing spree in broad daylight and their identities will be protected if they have the money and the influence with those who think they're the ones who matter. That in the end, the laws and legal processes of a democracy only work for the elite and not for the common man for whose benefit and protection they were originally intended and on whose backs, on whose sweat and toil, these elite built their empires.

It is an indignation that grows even more every time we read or hear words like these:

"Under the current government, the Philippines has become the most dangerous place in the world for media workers. At least 74 journalists have been killed during its eight-year tenure, yet the government has not acted to end the culture of impunity. At last count, only four convictions had been secured..."
(Being a journalist: one of the most dangerous jobs in the world.)

"an incident between two families in Mindanao... We cannot be affected by that… This has nothing to do with President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo or the administration... If the public would know that we are sincere and that we are doing our best to give justice to the victims, I think that would vindicate us in case there would be impressions later on.”
(Why do you need vindication?)

“We don’t have full control of the situation on the ground, mortals as we are."
(...)

"If we use the iron hand on them, they might fight back. We should take precaution. These are not ordinary people."
(Weren't you quick to use the "iron hand" against the MILF and the Abu Sayyaf? Didn't the government fall all over its own feet to declare an "all-out war" in Mindanao? What makes these people different? Why are you so afraid that they will fight back?)

In the end, all we have are rumors that refuse to be substantiated, and this sorrow, anger, indignation and frustration that refuses to be assuaged. Wanna bet that after a while, all this will die down, and people will refuse to remember anymore... until the next, more horrific massacre occurs? And meanwhile the underlying problems continue, and the impunity remains.