Kamusta ka, UP?

Aaminin ko… when I was a freshman back in the ‘90s (won’t say what year hehehe), I used to be really proud to be an iska. Being the probinsyana that I was, I stayed in Kalayaan (the freshmen dormitory). Thus, my entire freshman life revolved around UP. I went to mass at the UP Chapel, had meals at the dorm or CASAA or shopping center. I took frequent walks around the academic oval and sunken garden. I bought UP stickers and pasted them on my books and folders (I didn’t have a car back then). I proudly wore UP shirts.

But after a year of studying, I realized that being in UP is not a bed of roses. I experienced a lot of not-so-pleasant things in UP. I had my first quatro (4), singko (5), incomplete and dropped. I have tried writing a song at the black of my blue book during an exam in Math 53 just to kill the time, so that my terror teacher would not castigate me for turning in a blank blue book. I have been wrongly accused by a teacher of plagerizing a book in one of my reports (of course, I proved him wrong, and I got a 1.25 in his class). I’ve been burned really bad not just in academics, but in a lot of things that a gullible probinsyana is not used to.

But… although UP may not be a bed of roses, it became my enclave, my shelter and my comfort zone. Until now, when I’m at the lowest of lows, I drive around UP. Just seeing the familiar trees, green grass, the old buildings and dormitory, smelling the familiar scents of the shopping center, and feeling the UP air, I suddenly become enveloped in a blanket of peace and quiet. It’s as if I have put on a cloak of invincibility. I leave the campus feeling lighter, calm and composed.

So a few days ago, I did what I’ve been wanting to do since a few months ago. I went to UP with the dyosas to shoot the Oblation. Sitting in front of the oblation, memories of my undergrad and graduate years came flooding back. I felt content just sitting at the Admin Building, shooting Oble in different angles, while waiting for the sun to set.

Salamat UP, for being very interesting, accommodating and open. I owe a lot of what I am today to you.


10:29 pm
26 Feb 2008
Fairview, QC

Unang Hirit

It's been a while since i saw the sunrise. It's been months ago that i woke up this early.

Today, i was up since 4am. I suddenly woke up from a very bad dream, and couldn't go back to sleep after.

So after an hour of tossing and turning in my bed, i decided to start my day... very early.

Today is February 25, a non-working holiday, the anniversary of the People Power revolution.

I looked out my window... the compound was very quiet, not a soul in sight. Not even the roving guard was on the street.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by 4 individuals, all male. They were walking towards the main gate of the compound. Looking closely, i noticed that 2 of them stopped walking, and kissed right there, at the middle of the road. As if on cue, the other couple did the same. I sighed, happy at the thought that at least 4 souls were happy and content today.

For i know that today, a lot of hearts will not be as happy. On the contrary, hearts will be pumping with rage, dissent and discontent. People will be marching on the streets. Prayers and litanies will be spoken. Fists will be held up in the air, clenched in anger and disgust.

It's half past 5. I turned on the tv to a local channel. Unang Hirit (an early morning/breakfast talk show) was about to start.

The hosts were criticizing Gloria Arroyo, the woman some call president. According to Gloria, the world cannot forgive the Philippines should there be another EDSA revolution.

I am now wondering if her comprehension and mental faculty is as wanting as her height. Doesn't she realize that what the world cannot forgive, is for Filipinos to completely abandon their passion to fight for the truth, accountability and democracy?

I do not want to agitate my heart some more, so i will stop ranting now.

I will just pleasantly go on with my day. I want to be blissfully ignorant and apathetic to the causes, struggles and advocacies of the marginalized Filipino people. This is what 30-something people today are good at, anyway.

This is certainly not my unang political hirit. But I certainly hope this is the last.


05:50 am
25 Feb 2008
Fairview, QC

We are the ones...

happy valentine's day everyone!

may today be like any ordinary day for you -- hopeful, blissful and love-filled.

here's a poem sent by a friend (salamat sa iyo, i'm sending this back to you). a deviation from the usual mushy stuff... but more relevant and grounded.

pat yourself on the back... smile at the mirror... stay happy... love yourself! remember, we are the ones we've been waiting for :)

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


*Message of the Hopi Elders of Arizona....


" We have been telling the people that this is the Eleventh Hour.
Now you must go back and tell the people that this is the Hour.
And there are things to be considered.
Where are you living? What are you doing?
What are your relationships? Are you in the right relation?
Where is your water? Know your garden.

It is time to speak your truth
Create your community. Be good to each other.
And do not look outside yourself for the leader.
This could be a good time!
There is a river flowing now very fast
It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid.
They will try to hold onto the shore.
They will feel they are being torn apart and they will suffer greatly.

Know the river has its destination.
The elders say we must let go of the shore, and push off and into the river,
Keep our eyes open, and our head above the water.
See who is in there with you and Celebrate.

At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally. Least of all ourselves.
For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt.

The time of the lone wolf is over, Gather yourselves!
Banish the word struggle from your attitude and your vocabulary.
All that you do now must be done in a sacred manner
And in celebration.

We are the ones we've been waiting for..."

From the Inside, Looking Out

I am back in my hometown. I am now in the same house that I grew up in. I am at this moment, looking out from the inside, from the same window of the house.

My earliest memory of this spot is when I was around 5 years old. It was a rainy day, and both my parents were out working. Thus, I was left with my yaya. I was looking out the window, and I distinctly remember three things – rain steadily pouring onto the roses and daisies in our garden, the song which goes “Standing by my window, listening for your call”, and the deep sadness that I felt.

Up to now, I never knew why I felt that sadness at such a young age. But every time I hear that song… standing by my window… listening for your call… that same feeling of sadness overcomes me, like a familiar blanket.

Today, I saw three familiar people pass by.

An old man with white hair passed by. I distinctly remember him because I used to hear my mom and tita talk about him every time he passes by. They say he never got married because he was drug dependent. I don’t know if he ever got married, nor if he was really on drugs. He looked old for his age. Was it the effect of the drugs? Was it because he didn’t have the motivation to live because he never felt loved?

A plump woman in her late 30’s also passed by. She has her 5 year old daughter in tow. She is my neighbor and my playmate’s older sister. She had an operation when she was in elementary. The doctor had to take out one of her ovaries. I think it’s a miracle that she was able to bear 2 children.

My 21 year old cousin also passed by. He’s in college now, and looking very different from the image I saw 20 years ago. As a baby, he was carried then by his yaya. But now, he’s all grown up to carry his own baby.

Time indeed changes everything and everyone. For some, time becomes their friend, but for some, their worst nemesis.

I hope that after 20 years, I can still sit by this same window, listen to the tapping of the falling rain, see familiar faces pass by, hear that same song in the radio, and feel that familiar but comforting feeling of sadness.


09:35 am
07 Feb 2008
Santiago City

Bahay na Pula

Since I was small, traveling from the province to manila, we've always passed by this "haunted house" in San Ildefonso, Bulacan. Little did i know that this haunted house is also called Bahay na Pula (Red House) because of the color of the stones used and also the roof.

I did some internet research about the house, and found that this house is actually haunted... not by ghosts, but by the gruesome crimes committed against young women during the world war.

The japanese soldiers used this house to violate the countless young women who are now known as comfort women.

I will never look at this house the same way again. it is indeed haunted... haunted by the scariest element there is... violations to human rights, self worth and respect.

06 Feb 2008
Santiago City

Lightbulb Moments

Have you had that moment… when everything seems so clear, when all your questions are answered, when all grey areas become either black or white, when you suddenly see a flicker of light in pitch black darkness? I call that a lightbulb moment.

How many times in the past have I had these moments, when I think of something very interesting, funny, or witty, as possible topics for my next blog entry. The weirdest thing is, I get these ideas in the most unlikely times and places – when I’m driving, when I’m taking a bath, when I’m trying to get a good night’s sleep, during the wee hours of the morning, when I’m doing something else.

It makes me want to get a pen and paper, or to turn on my laptop and write… write… and write, until my thirst for putting my thoughts into paper is quenched.

I also noticed that my best ideas (well, at least for me) are those that came from these lightbulb moments. My first blog entry, “Boylet”, was from a lightbulb moment – while I was in a toxic state in my previous organization, rushing a dozen of things for simultaneous deadlines.

“My Precious Stones” was written while my stomach was growling (before dinner), on Valentines Day hehehe.

“Van Gogh Wanna Be” was written in front of the tv in Penang, in between watching the local Malaysian channels and making chika with my housemates.

“Bagay sa iyo, Foreigner” was written while I was stuck and spooked in an old creepy (and haunted, I think) apartment in Sorsogon.

“Will Lightning Strike” was written while my cousins and I were on our way to Manila from Isabela.

Writing “Incoherence” was the first thing I did that one very cold morning.

I am hoping that I can still have more lightbulb moments, so I can still write, even without my muse.

P.S.
By the way, while I am writing this article, I am on Yahoo Chat with the dyosas, and also on the phone with my friend, Sienna.



03:15 pm
01 Feb
Santiago City