Note that students WILL NOT leave their assigned room; we teachers will go to you.

Download: PSHS Sched for March 15 (1-3Y)

Source: CISD

I consider it a happy problem therefore that on the last day, you guys wanted more time. It shows me that you have really done your research and that you’ve come to appreciate the work we were trying to do. You weren’t cramming at all; I was just expecting three resolutions, but you produced double digit documents. That was a truly wonderful surprise!

How can I not give everyone an ‘A’? (I actually will, except for some who could have really put in more work, and some who deserve an ‘A+’.)

In this post, I share some thoughts about the activity now that we’re done with it. I welcome your comments for I would really like to improve on this for the coming years. Kindly leave your name and section when you comment so I know where you’re coming from and I can address your concerns and comments appropriately.

Now, my thoughts. The first five are things I will DEFINITELY implement in the next version of the forum.

1. MORE TIME: 5 DAYS MINIMUM

This is a no-brainer. We need more time. But this is not just about quantity, but of programming. Refer to the next changes for how I intend to make most of five days.

2. ESTABLISH CAUCUSES ON DAY ZERO

The first of five days is actually Day Zero. Even before the forum begins, classes can divide themselves into caucuses on either issues or regions. They can then discuss strategy, appoint a secretary, and nominate a keynote speaker (see next item). Bottom line, this session should make the committee work more efficient since students already know who to go to. We did this to a limited degree in Dahlia (they had an additional session between the end of my lectures and the start of the forum), though the advantage was not clear to me. That could be my fault as well since it was not so clear what we were to do that day after dividing the class into issue areas.

3. KEYNOTE AND SUPPLEMENTAL SPEAKERS

This is one way to limit the amount of speeches we listen to in class. By appointing keynote (1 person) and supplemental (2 to 3) speakers, we can avoid a lengthy speakers’ list. For example, the topic is climate change. Japan can deliver the keynote speech were general principles and objectives are outlined. Then countries such as the Maldives and the Philippines can deliver speeches that support the ideas presented by Japan. Their presentations outline the general direction that the Climate Change caucus wishes for the entire forum to follow.

4. ONE ISSUE/CAUCUS PER DAY

This was done by Ethel Viray, the chairperson of Dahlia. During that one additional day before the forum, she told the class that each day will be devoted to one issue area.I doubted the plan at first since I wasn’t too confident that resolutions will be discussed and passed on each day. But to their credit, the class was more focused in discussing the issues. They were the only ones who had an informal debate where actual questions were raised to the entire body. Making this a practice together with item #3 (above) will improve the forum greatly.

5. BE CLEAR THAT I EXPECT THREE RESOLUTIONS — NO MORE, NO LESS

Students may not agree with this, but I’m thinking of pursuing this. From a teacher’s perspective, it forces students to really interact and compromise. What if, for instance, I will only accept one – and only one – agreement that deals with peace, order and security issues? Students will then try not to be bogged down with bilateral agreements and instead pursue wider ranging agreements.

What worked against us was time. If we had more, I would have asked the different countries to reconcile resolutions that talk about the same thing. When we ended our forum, the classes were practically at the working paper stage where each caucus, informal committee, and even bilateral meet had their own resolutions. Ideally, all resolutions regarding climate change, for instance, would be compiled and compressed into one.

What if the different countries don’t agree with the final resolution? Then that should make the voting more interesting. Then we will certainly see ‘abstain’ and ‘no’ outnumbering ‘yes’. In the future, I will make it a point to devote one session to just passing resolutions.

The next items are other things I am still thinking of to further improve the activity. Perhaps you guys can comment.

6. HONOR BILATERAL AGREEMENTS

I am still thinking of a way to recognize Bilateral Agreements (agreements made by two countries on trade, border conflicts, resource sharing, etc.) since these tend to be very common but don’t really require a General Resolution. One way I’m thinking of now is to task the Secretary-General to keep track of all agreements by requiring the involved parties to submit a one-page summary of their agreement. From my perspective, this is an easy way to monitor the performance of each one of you since coming to simple agreement with another country is the simplest sign that you are participating in the activity.

7. GIVE STUDENTS THE ABILITY TO GENERATE THEIR OWN ‘RANDOM EVENTS’

We really didn’t have time to have random events, and to those sections which had, we didn’t have enough time to take them seriously either. But I’ve thought of a way to make this even more interesting.

While working on their country profile, each student will be required to research one or two events involving their country which required a regional or even global response. For instance, Indonesia can cite the 2004 tsunami and the 2005 Bali bombing. These will be the ‘random events’ which can occur anytime during the summit.

Then I’ll come up with WILD CARDS – actual cards that give you the authority to initiate a random event. I’ll hide these cards throughout the entire campus (and to make things more fun I can give out clues). If you find them, you can then use the card in the forum to start your random event. The Chairman will have to announce it and the class will have to resolve it within a certain amount of time.

This sounds like a fun idea. It introduces a game mechanic to the activity while opening the door to the tragedies and crises that haunt actual, real-world summits. It is not so realistic, but this ca definitely challenge those who tend to plan out everything for everyone. What do you think?

8. PROVIDE AN ACTUAL CRISIS FOR THE CLASS TO SOLVE

While designing the activity, I debated with myself whether I assign each class one crisis they have to resolve. I would have definitely done this if you guys didn’t do your research, but I am glad that I didn’t have to. Very glad. This is my last resort but I am certain that future batches will be challenged to do ever better.

And I’d like to end by sharing some ideas of things I would have really loved to do but are challenging or impossible for some reason or another.

9. EACH SECTION WILL HAVE A SIX-HOUR SESSION FOR THE FORUM PROPER

Just like what other schools abroad do, this would have been most awesome but is logistically impossible to pull off considering the schedule of the second years. My biggest chance would be to schedule a special Saturday per class, but we were having too many Saturday classes to begin with. Using the afternoon of the perio is also off the table. But just imagine how much work you can really get done with so much time. Yes, we caucus in advance. I will also have to train you in the format beforehand and ensure that the Chairpersons know the format inside and out. Maybe some day we’ll get a feel of how this works.

10. HAVE AN ASIAN FORUM – MIDDLE EAST TO EAST ASIA

This will require even more time and training. But what if the Middle East peace problem is just one caucus in the forum? Nice to think about, but again the logistics are against us. Would be awesome though. But for now I’ll stick with my new 4th quarter formula: Win As Much As You Can –> Middle East Peace Summit –> Model East Asian Regional Forum.

11. FOUR SECTIONS = ONE FORUM?

At the earliest stages of designing this activity, I was actually considering this. Instead of working alone, you will be working in pairs. One will be the ambassador, another will be the secretary. The ambassador represents while the secretary manages and gathers information. Hence, we are looking at 60 ambassadors from different Asian countries and observer states and organizations. But thinking about this made my head explode. So much can happen and so much had to be worked out in advance. This idea will always tempt me but I didn’t want to do too much too soon.

FINAL REMARKS

The Model UN is a very diverse format. So much can be done with it and we have just begun to explore what it can do. My students know me as somewhat perfectionist, so rest assured that there are a lot of things I still want to polish, enhance, and improve.

I will be eternally grateful to my 2012 students for being great partners in this grand adventure. This is uncharted ground for me too, but we always have to start somewhere. If this becomes a much better activity next year, it will be because of you guys.

I couldn’t have done this without you and I will incredibly miss you!

Good luck in all of our future endeavors! Until our paths meet again.

P.S. I have already decided to rename it to Model ASEAN for next school year.

Click the poster to confirm your attendance in Facebook!

Download the overview as PDF here.

Download the Sigaw 2 pieces here!

• “Republikang Basahan” by Teodoro Agoncillo
• “Ang Aklasan” by Amado V. Hernandez
• “Makapangyarihang Kamay”
• “Sa Aking mga Kabata” by Dr. Jose Rizal

Towards the end of last school year, a student asked The Most Important Question Ever.

“Sir, is it true that as one grows old, he becomes more practical?” Somehow he looked guilty. ”I am just worried that when the time comes, I will lose my ideals.”

What ideals? I asked.

“That there are things I want to do for this country. That I want it to be better.”

I recall fumbling for an answer. Caught unprepared, I didn’t have anything coherent to say. Or more likely I wasn’t ready to say what I really wanted to.

At that time, I was at a crossroads. The economic downturn left so many in a bad place, myself included. I was about to send myself off to graduate school, but my savings were nearly wiped out (one month I spent more for gasoline than food) and the prospects of finding a new, more fulfilling job simply wasn’t there. I was also at a sore spot emotionally. Despite being given a position of authority and responsibility in the school, support wasn’t given to me by the higher ups when I needed it most. It was demoralizing. It felt futile to dream, taboo to hope.

It was so difficult to answer that student because I just wanted to give up. I just wanted to take the easy way out and quit. So the plans I’ve set for my batch wouldn’t push through? “I’m sorry. It was beyond me.” The stress wasn’t worth the pay check. And the call center seemed so attractive all of a sudden. I was ready to say, “Yes, it is true what they say about growing old.”

Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.

Read more.

We are about to begin the last week of school on Tuesday. Thanks to the People Power holiday, we have Monday off but don’t let that deceive you: there will hardly be any rest.

The last two months of school are usually the busiest for me. It is when I culminate everything I’ve been working towards, tie up loose ends, or make up for lost time. That toxic triad makes for a race against time — a race I have every intention to win and a race I have had a good track record of winning. And yet, at the risk of mixing my metaphors, let’s borrow another one from basketball (since tennis, though I love it, does not convey the same urgency even when you’re 0-40, 0-5 down in the fifth set; desperation yes, but not urgency).

I am forcing the game into overtime. Last two minutes and I am three points down, and I have to make my play. I just need to make one shot. Or maybe two. Do you have my back? I want another five minutes and so do you.

This school year has had a very odd pace. We started a week late, lost two weeks to AH1N1, and lost another to Ondoy. The passing of a colleague left the community in a squalid pall for about a week, and then I had the honor of being sent to India for two weeks. We are ending this school year a week earlier compared to last year. And there have been oh so many long weekends sprinkled throughout the calendar to make a time management freak like me disbelieve the existence of time.

In sum, I haven’t spent as much time with my classes as I hoped to, or rather, as I would want to now.

I struggled in teaching Batch 2012 at the start.

We could hardly get any momentum off the ground. Whenever classes would be canceled, it would force us to adjust and reacquaint ourselves with school whenever we resume from an unscheduled, extended break. The students struggled to get into the rhythm of school, making it difficult for them to meet the high expectations of a teacher that relies a lot on independent study, full and focused attention during lectures, and undivided participation when it comes to class activities.

And I could see that they were having a difficult time. Many hated (and still hate) my pre-lecture quizzes. I literally felt them dragging their feet through my lectures. The intermittent class schedule in the first semester was unfriendly to the sort of time table-based group activities I design, forcing me to rely on lectures – which I really hated as well.

(Nonetheless, I did make it a point to make them look as good as I can. )

Trapped in a cycle of lecture after lecture, I made a silent commitment to myself that I will persevere. I wasn’t teaching the kind of class I wanted, but I will the moment the first semester (a combined first and second quarter) is through. If I were to rely on lectures, I had to do it well. If I were to expect my students to really read up before my quizzes, I had to push them harder. In my mind, I had to pay all of this off somehow. So towards the end of the semester I began reciting an unbreakable vow — “If I lecture half of the year, you will not hear me lecture in the other half.” By promising my students more activities once the third quarter began, I set the bar for myself. I knew I could do it; it was just a matter of time.

True enough, I began teaching the class I wanted to in the third quarter. I forewarned that it will be a project-oriented quarter and that in eight weeks I will only lecture a maximum of four times (I think I only lectured twice).

We kicked things off with their own version of The Amazing Race where I had my four classes cover different Asian regions. Each class was divided into six teams – one to oversee different aspects of the project, and five to be responsible for five different legs.

It was my way seeing what they were capable of. The first semester didn’t really allow me to know who the leaders were, but this definitely did. I also met the artists, writers, and performers; I’ve also seen who tend to take initiative versus those who were just in it for the free ride. I am generally satisfied with their work, though we are all in agreement that much more could be done if they had more time (they just had two weeks). And as their teacher I would’ve had more fulfillment if I had time to sit down afterwards and talk about every single thing that happened. But I was on my own Amazing Race – soon I had to board a plane to India.

Nonetheless, their projects did look very fantastic. You can check out their amazing race reports here:

CHAMPACA – Sand and Sword (Islamic World)

DAHLIA – All Under Heaven (East Asia)

ROSAL – Silk Road (Central Asia)

SAMPAGUITA – Spice Islands (Southeast Asia)

Upon my return we began work on our East/West Debates, a favorite of mine from last school year. I reprised it with a lot of modifications; in particular, I revolved each mock trial around a specific historical event rather than a general issue. Students can compare the guidelines for 2011 with the one for 2012.

For Batch 2011:

For Batch 2012:

I am very, very satisfied with the results this year. Revolving around specific events is simply the best thing I’ve done, since it allowed students to focus on building their arguments (rather than rely on my talking points like last year) and beefing up their witnesses.

In addition, this exposed them to my real teaching style and I got to see how they measure up to the high expectations I’ve set. I only delivered a two-session lecture on basic concepts about imperialism, and in some sections I didn’t even finish (and it doesn’t really matter). Then it was mostly research work at the library. Then I pointed students towards some websites they could use. To those who had difficulty contextualizing their research, I provided frameworks. What they came up with genuinely surprised me. They discovered texts I never really studied yet and made characters out of historical figures you can’t find in standard history books. It sounds cliche whenever teachers say that they learn from their students too, but in this case it is very real. If next year the East/West Debates get even better, it is only because of Batch 2012.

My Third Quarter Periodic Exam gave them a taste of what I really look for in my students. Dealing with texts we haven’t touched on a single second in class, they answered a pure essay test where they had to choose questions that fit their interest, knowledge, and individual capabilities. While difficult and seemingly impossible to check, it continues to be the most important exam I administer to my students.

And finally, the fourth quarter.

We started big. The Middle East Peace Summit has been done since Batch ‘09 and since then it has been reserved for the last week of February. Instead I pushed it a month earlier, kicking off the new year with a four-part lecture on the Middle East to provide them context for the summit. I also set the tone with a personal favorite, Win As Much As You Can, an ingenious game utilizing the principle of game theory. From a teacher’s perspective, this is a brilliant combo. It teaches them about cooperation and betrayal without having to utter a single word. It sends them off to the Peace Summit knowing that what they are about to do isn’t impossible – if people really remained true to their word and left themselves open to compromise. I didn’t have to say anything to teach them this, they just did it.

(By the way, 2012, do you want to know how previous Batches did it? I wrote reports for ‘09 and ‘10 but stopped with ‘11 since the reports spoil the action. But you can read about how other batches did here: Batch ‘10, Batch’09)

And this, in another wonderful twist of fate, sets up what we’re about to do starting next week.

Batch 2012 is the sixth batch I’m handling. Yet, I am introducing an activity for the first time.

It is something I’ve wanted to do since I started teaching Asian Studies – a simulation of the ASEAN in a truly open-ended and student-driven format.

I am confident enough in my abilities now to pull off something this ambitious. I can see from the preliminary requirements – a Country Profile detailing their objectives for the forum and a Position Paper that basically serves as a draft of their privilege speech – that my students are ready as well. I can see that they have gotten used to the rigor and hard work I expect from my students, and for that the First Semester paid off somehow.

Throughout the year, students have often asked me about things I personally believe in. What is your religion, sir? Who are you voting for? Does our country have hope? I often decline answering. Over the years I’ve realized that education is not about telling students what to think, but to help them – and empower them – to think for themselves. And yet, if they ask me what I believe in now, I will gladly answer.

I believe in you.

I will say nothing more about the coming Model East Asia Regional Forum for I want us all to be surprised with what happens next. But for sure, there is no struggle on my part now. I’ve seen my students grow tremendously over the past months; I no longer see the weariness of trying to keep up with my expectations but the anxiety of whether they will in fact meet them one last time.

You guys will.

Hence, I can’t help but look back at how things could have been (I do teach history). If we had all the time we lost, there is so much we could have done with five more weeks. There are films we could have watched; lectures on Japan and Southeast Asia I could have delivered. Perhaps I could have thrown in an extra week for The Amazing Race and I could have lectured a bit more before the East/West Debates in order to provide more context. We could all take a session after the activities to talk about what happened. And perhaps you could have known me a little bit more than the teacher with super planned time tables and detailed guidelines.

But alas! Such is the fate of every teacher. We’re given only so much time, and there are no last minute plays to force the game into overtime. In the end, I can only hope that you learned a thing or two and felt that all your hard work was worth it. I make no apologies for being tough, but am willing to hear you out if you feel that I haven’t been fair.

We teachers never really get second chances despite a new year that awaits in June; our current batch has come and will be gone, and I hope we’ve made our limited time together truly mean something. For I will be eternally grateful just for that, and it is always a teacher’s prayer that the same is true on the other side.

Batch 2012, good luck in your last two minutes!

fin

BONUS! Below is one activity which we had no time to do at all. I was planning to, but replaced it with The Amazing Race instead. Did I make the right choice?

When I was starting out, I saw the three content areas this way.

Chinese history appeals to my heart. I am simply in love with the culture, its food, and its movies. My studies there stem from this playful love for the subject matter.

Islamic history appeals to my head. My first encounter with it was during my college days learning Political Science. 9/11 just happened, and hence interest in Islam increased; I was part of that statistic.

But India always appealed to my soul. There is just something so entrancing about the story of the Buddha, so eerie about the Taj Mahal, and for some reason their imperial experience under Britain feels all too familiar. To confront India was always to confront my deepest self, and I could attest to that now that I have actually been there.

The Community Development and Leadership Summit 2009 was really for our students. The teacher chaperone has to do pretty much that – chaperone. “Get them there, and get them out” was pretty much my job description. And yet between the margins I found the time to encounter India in its entirety, though I think it is really impossible to do just that and arrogant to think that that is even possible.

But we sure tried. There were times when some fellow teacher delegates and I excused ourselves from some sessions to steal some time outside the school walls. We affirmed that the Indians do love their tea more than their coffee, that no two saris looks the same (though it can be impossible to tell the Indians themselves apart), and that the colonial experience reaches its way to their comfort rooms – when you enter you can take your pick: toilet or ‘Western’ toilet.

Having taught India from a textbook for the past five years, I was more curious to see whether my readings bore out in reality. Indeed, there were hardly any Buddhists around anymore and so it is no surprise that some have this misconception of Buddhism coming from Thailand or China. I was also sensitive to the caste system, which I had no idea how to bring up. But I had a firsthand experience with a dalit or untouchable.

Though banned in theory, the caste retains deep socio-economic divisions. I had my shoe ‘shined’ inadvertedly; while walking through an underpass in Delhi, a dark skinned man walked up to me and offered a shoe shine. I declined; he insisted. Then he crouched to my shoe to give me no choice; I politely ran away and said I’m being left behind by my companions (which was true). As I exited the underpass, I noticed a light green goo on top of my right shoe. It was monkey poo. I just had an encounter with a con man. I just had an encounter with a man who was trying to make a living.

Back at the school, I asked a sociology teacher how much he could’ve asked a foreigner like me.

“100 rupees?” I guessed. One rupee being almost equal to one peso.

“100? Too much.” The teacher replied. “20 would have been a lot already.”

Twenty rupees for a con job. That’s twenty pesos here. Unbelievable yes, but this was happening every day and in different spots throughout New Delhi.

People speak so easily about change and progress in India. The politicians and economists all talk about a coming Golden Age, and they do have many reasons to be optimistic. What is important is that in their quest for progress, they do not forget the shoe shine guy and many others like him. But thankfully, I am optimistic.

I just have to remember a boy named Mukul.

Throughout the summit, the foreign student delegates were assigned a Modern School student to accompany them and help them through everything they need. We teachers weren’t. But there was Mukul. His small unassuming bespectacled stature betrays his low, deep voice that echoed nothing else but warm, sympathy and concern. He who followed, trailed, and struck a conversation with me whenever he could. At first though, I was a little annoyed since there were moments when I preferred to be alone. And then one night, I received news from Manila that my uncle passed away.

A forum just ended and everyone was heading back to the dormitories. I decided to hang around the auditorium area, use their WiFi, and see how everyone back home was doing. But I couldn’t get a signal and just sat there, frustrated that I couldn’t get in touch. My mother was very concerned about uncle during his last few months, and I was very concerned for my mother whose heart doesn’t easily break but breaks hard when it does. But I only planned to get in touch through the Internet and did not get a local sim for my phone. Now I was regretting it.

Then Mukul arrived. He called on me and asked me to join everyone for dinner back in the dorm. I politely declined and said that I wanted to try the WiFi one last time, so he insisted to stay with me. He then asked if something was wrong; I looked upset, he said.

Not one to just let emotions spill, I assured him that it was nothing I couldn’t deal with. “But enough about me,” I said. “Tell me something about you.” Then we walked back to the dormitories.

During the walk he told me about how he wasn’t accepted as one of the Modern School volunteers for the summit, but will insist that he becomes one just so he can hang around. He found me interesting and funny, like a mentor he could learn a lot from. So as a mentor, I asked him what his dreams were. He said he wanted to be an accountant and he dreamed about earning the big bucks to live a good life. I asked if that was all. “Well, that’s what I can do to help my family.”

As we neared the dorm his phone rang. It was his mother. “I am being summoned home now, sir. It’s my mother.”

“Well, Mukul, if I were you, I’d be a good boy and go home now.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be on my way then. See you tomorrow, and I hope all will be well.”

* * *

It has been more than two months since I got back from India. Since then my head has been swirling with ideas for my classes and new dreams for myself. I can now speak of India more confidently and more convincingly. I have enough anecdotes to write my own book with.

I readily admit that I haven’t seen everything I would’ve wanted to see in India. I’d like to see Varanasi for myself and witness a burial ritual along the Ganges as other people bathe. But this only gives me reason to return. Maybe then the shoe shine guy won’t be around anymore. And perhaps I’ll drop by Modern School and look for Mukul, just so I can say that all has been well. That evening conversation wasn’t the last I saw of him, but it was then that I realized something I’ve long since known.

India is all about soul.

Mukul and I at a Concept Paper Discussion

Candidates criticized for having no experience — like JFK or Obama — counter this by proving themselves as people with the judgment to be President. Noynoy is facing the same criticism, yet has hardly shown any judgment. His latest ad, while to a lot is just the same cheap gimmickry, is for me the clearest sign of his lack of judgment so far.

His ad shows a lack of judgment for several reasons: it misrepresents who he is, the pandering presentation is not congruent with his call for us to seek our higher selves, and he has resulted to traditional political parlor games, casting him in a light no different — and perhaps even worse — than the most-trapoest-trapo-of-them-all, Villar.

So if I were you, I’d share this video with all those still making up their minds on who to vote for. Help our country by not getting Noynoy Aquino elected in May.

How dare he speak about change after this; the campaign is bringing out the worst in him

1986, Never Again. Say No to Noynoy Aquino.

The bell rings.

I wrap up my lecture and bid my class goodbye. I entertain a few questions – this time someone asking me what would happen if the USSR just nuked the Middle East – as I turn off the projector and shut down my laptop. I reply with my characteristic answer — “What do you think would happen?” – as the buzzing of my students steadily stream out of the Seminar Room and into the halls outside.

We finish our conversation – the phrase “World War III” came up several times – and soon it is just me and the timid humming of the LCD projector as it finally cools down and quiets. I coil all the loose cords, replace my laptop and other devices into their respective bags, shut off the airconditioner, and switch off the lights.

Done with my classes for the day, I return to the Faculty Room. But on the way I pass by the Student Services Division to make sure my planned event for February pushes through (it will). Then I drop by the library photocopier lady — “Roxy” as she is affectionately or degradingly called – to check on whether my students have been copying their assigned texts (they are except for one class). Next I pass by the Guidance Office, help myself in, and say “Hi!” to Sir Ed. We catch up on the latest with Batch 2011 (So who asked who from prom?) and I tell him – at least once a week – how much I miss everyone. Then I pass by Ma’am Jeng, the Guidance Counselor of my current batch, and ask whether the kids in my advisory class are all alright (they definitely are).

Halfway back, I pass by the cafeteria. There are hardly any students there at 9am, save for the fortunate few (as they see themselves) who are spared from a Biology class, or the Seniors who fill the lull by catching up on breakfast and other things they need to survive to graduation. I just skip to the cold store and grab myself a bottled ice tea (Real Leaf Lychee being my favorite) for a quick picker up, say “Hi!” to some students along the way, and finally rush back to the Faculty Room.

It is just the 3rd period and so there are hardly any teachers sitting by their desks; often there are just about two or three besides me. One colleague on an afternoon shift arrives early to prepare. I register my cursory surprise at seeing her arrive early as she types away at a keyboard, finalizing her grades and trying to make a dent on the tower of student papers sitting on her desks. Almost always there when I return is Arghs, already checking his e-mail and scratching (more like rubbing) his head over the latest gaffe by Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. If not he is worshipping at the altar of Conrado de Quiros, or checking out Wikipedia then checks on me if I already have that latest episode of How I Met Your Mother or The Big Bang Theory, handing me his portable hard disc as he does so. I really should charge him for this service.

For the next hour I check on my e-mail and read up on the news. I reply to some university students asking for my input on their thesis survey, and I draft an invitation to a Congressman for a forum we’re having in February. I then do my rounds of The Daily Beast and Politico, following American politics ten times more closely than I do our own. So I can’t help but muse about how far Noynoy really is from Obama, and how Philippine politics is all too similar to American politics in the 1920’s when it was dominated by the mafia.

Then I hit a wall. My reading for the morning is hampered by the school’s White List – I can’t access a site that isn’t pre-approved by the school’s MIS department – and so I shut down my laptop and instead sift through some papers on my desk – student quizzes, office memos, and my random notes from my many meetings and quick readings.

Arghs and I have lunch pretty early as we try to beat his 10:50 class. I don’t mind this at all because at 10:20 the food is still pretty warm and we have a lot more to choose from. Cafeteria food, after all, is best in its first five minutes of existence.

Often joining us is Liz, a young and superbly upbeat teacher whose optimism always gets the best of you. Currently the Batch Adviser of 2013, she and I can talk for hours planning activities and sharing notes on how to deal with students, parents, and the loveable administration.

Lunch is dominated by a wide variety of topics from the TV shows Arghs and I share, to Liz’s questions on whether I plan to go into politics or not. We talk about our students, school policies, and love lives (or the absence thereof). But it is when Liz drills me on how I’ve gone from an idealist to a realist that I wish our lunch hours don’t end. It is something I think most intensely about every now and then.

The hour starting from 11:00 is what I call my dead hour. After lunch, my productivity is at its lowest. This is why I prefer to meet my AKSIS officers at this time, since being around my officers and discussing our projects really kicks me up a notch. But around 11:50 I am at my most zombified state, and so I head for the Faculty’s hidden couch to grab a power nap. I have mastered that art, and can get myself to wake at exactly 12:30, the end of my official time.

On my way out of the Faculty I grab my course’s textbook and some quizzes I have yet to check. I put them all in my bag as I unzip a side pocket to grab my iPod. I scroll to my 60-song playlist and hit shuffle, but really won’t settle for any first song unless it’s something by The Fray.

Home is a good hour away in Paranaque, and I don’t head for it first. Since January 4, I haven’t missed the gym and so I mentally prepare my route from C5 to Makati.

Driving under the noon sun can be quite the test. The blinding glare and the heat make me fall asleep – hence the power nap before I leave – but I’ve discovered that listening to something loud and bassy can really get me up. Sadly, Staind, Drowning Pool, or all the hard rock acts I grew up with don’t work. But Lady Gaga does. Ra Ra Ah Ah Ah, Roma Roma Ma, Gaga Ooh La La. (In my defense, even Chris Daughtry sings her songs.)

I reach my gym in Makati by 1:30. I stow my car in Parksquare, get out of my leather shoes and into my rubber sandals, put on a cap to keep off the sun, and walk to EDSA corner Pasay Road. I spend a full half hour stretching my body and rotating my hips in anticipation of my Tennis Camp from April to May. Then I jog a full kilometer for warm up. Focusing on cardio work for January, I hit the transport machine for a good half hour clocking in three kilometers by the time I’m done.

As I run on the machines I think about how my day went. Actually, this is when I do all my deep thinking. I review the lecture I delivered today, and reflect on the class discussions we’ve had. I think about what to do for my classes next – Middle East Summit perhaps? – and begin mapping out what our last month will be like. I think about that subtitle for our AKSIS event, and draft a text message I’ll send to my officers once I step off the machines.

Then I think about my life and where I’m headed. I try to define what happiness means and rationalize why I didn’t call back that girl I went out with once (and think about what could have happened if I did). I think about how much longer I’ll be teaching in Pisay and plot what my next step should be if indeed I decide to go into politics. But as I near the end of my run I go back to the here and now. I breathe in, breathe out; I feel the tightening of muscles and pat myself on the back for another good work out.

The I finally head home.

I wonder what mom’s dinner surprise will be. I expect to see my dad on the couch, standing guard over Gibo Teodoro’s Facebook page and fending off anti-Gibo comments with his own snarky defenses. Just before dinner my 13 year-old sister arrives from dance class, and my 20 year-old brother won’t be home until later tonight after his orchestra rehearsal. In the closing hours of the day I finally get some work done. I finish checking quizzes and convert handouts to PDF and upload them on the blog. As I do so I respond to student messages in Yahoo! Messenger while going through my shelf to pick a book for tonight.

By 10pm I shut everything down, and flip open a book to the chapter I left behind the previous night. I go through about half a chapter before my eyes fall and I ultimately catch myself sleeping on a page. So I close the book, slide it down my desk, and I slip into my blanket. I turn off my reading light and soon it is just me and the steady buzzing of cicadas outside.

The next sound I hear is my phone’s alarm at 4:50am. But that just starts a new day.

It is when that bell rings again at 7:25 that my life starts again.