Matagal din akong tumira sa Late (read: latian). Kung tutuusin, di naman kalayuan ito sa Maynila. Isang sakay ng jeep mula sa Malabon tapos ay punduhan na ng mga bangkang patungo doon. Ayon sa mapa ng Obando, ang lugar daw na iyon ay tinatawag na Sapang Tukol. Nasa hanggahan nito ang mga kalapit na Barangay Calistro at San Rafael at sa di kalayuan ay ang isang islang kung tawagin ay Binuangan. Sa kabilang ibayo naman ang bayan ng Navotas.
Iba sa Late (hindi namin tinatawag na Sapang Tukol ang lugar na iyon dahil mas nakasanayan na naming tawagin iyon na Late). Bagamat tanaw mo na ang Maynila mula sa bubong ng mga bahay doon, masasabi mo pa ring malayo sa kabihasnan. Kailan lang nalagyan ng linya ng kuryente ang lugar na iyon. Dati nagkakailaw lang ang mga bahay sa pamamagitan ng Coleman, ito yung ilaw na may gasa, nilalagyan ng alkohol at saka binobomba. Ang iba naman ay sa gasera lamang nagkakailaw. Minsan, nanunuod din kami ng TV na gumagana sa tulong ng baterya ng sasakyan. Pero madalang lang yun. Magastos kase sa baterya. Ang plantsa naman ay di-uling pa.
Tumira ako doon ng mga isang taon. Siguro, limang taon pa lang ako ng panahon na yon. Ewan ko pero ng mga panahong iyon, nabuhay kami ng walang refrigerator, walang vhs, walang magagarang laruan. Libangan na namin ang maglaro sa tabing ilog, manuod ng mga nagtatalunang hipon at isda, manilo ng kokomo, mamintol ng alimango, maghintay ng mga kalabukab (ahas sa tubig) na lumabas sa kanilang mga lungga, mamansing ng tilapya, magbilang ng higad sa mga puno ng api-api at bakawan, tumawid sa magkabilang pampang ng makitid na ilog lulan ng maliit na bangkang di-sagwan o kaya ay sa isang bangkang ginawa mula sa mga styrofoam na isinilid sa lambat o sako, manguha ng talangka at mag-abang ng mga inanod na tsinelas at styrofoam sa ilog. Mula sa mga inanod na tsinelas na ito, gumagawa kami ng mga pamaringas sa lutuang di-kahoy. Minsan naman ginagawa naming mumunting bangka ang mga gomang tsinelas at styrofoam. Tapos ay paanurin muli sa ilog para umaliw naman sa ibang nag-aabang ng mga ligaw na nilikha.
Makailang ulit ko ring tinawid ang mga malalawak na palaisdaang pumapalibot sa maliit na baryong iyon. Binaybay ang mga makikitid na pilapil. Minsan na ring nalubog ako sa hanggang tuhod na putik nang biglang napatapak ako sa isang malambot na pilapil. Nanguha rin kami ng mga lawe lawe na sya naming ipinapain sa pamamansing ng isda. Ewan ko ngunit hindi ako nandidiring hawakan ang mga bulateng iyon ng mga panahong iyon. Sa baryong iyon ko rin natutunan ang gumawa ng asin - mula sa pagpapatuyo ng palaisdaan, paglalatag ng mga tisa sa mga kwadra kwadradong pinatag na lupa, pagwawalis ng mga tisa, pagpapatubig sa mga tisang ito ng tubig dagat, pagkayod ng namuong asin sa mga tisa, paglalagay sa tiklis ng mga nakuhang asin at pag-iimbak ng mga ito sa kamalig. Inaabangan ko rin ang pagdaong ng gremarine at kasko na hahakot sa mga asin upang dalhin sa pamilihan.
Bagamat ito ang aking naging kabataan, di ko itinuturing na hindi ako naging masayang bata. Sa mura kong isipan, naging kasiyahan ko na ang mga bagay na sa tingin ng iba ay walang saysay. Sino bang bata ang maaaliw sa pagbibilang ng mga higad? Sinong bata ang kasiyahan na ang maglakad sa mga makikitid na pilapil sa ilalim ng nakasusunog na araw? Marahil, tila sa isang sanggol, naliligayan na ako sa mga bagay na aking nakikita. Hindi na mahalaga ang pamdama, amoy, lasa at tunog.
Gayunpaman, isang malungkot ang makita ang paglubog ng araw sa Late. Sa mga mahilig sa sunset, marahil ay napakagandang tanawin nito. Hindi ko alam, pero sa tuwing lumulubog ang araw sa Late ay nalulungkot ako. Siguro senyales na rin ito ng pagtatapos ng araw. Nakalipas ang maghapon ng walang pagbabago. Naroon pa rin ang mga higad, ang mga naipong water lily sa pagitan ng mga bakawan.
Linisan ko ang lugar na iyon ng magkahalong lungkot at saya. Malungkot dahil mawawalay ako sa lugar na nagmulat sa kin sa simpleng buhay. Masaya dahil may kutitap ang mga ilaw na pangako ng Maynila.
Lumipas ang panahon, napadako ako sa iba't ibang lugar at muli akong inihatid ng mga paa ko sa Late. Ibang iba na sya. May kuryente na, ang ilang mga bahay ay may refrigarator, TV, karaoke, dvd at component ngunit wala na ang asinan. Ang mga sanga ng nauubos ng mga api api at bakawan ay wala ng mga higad, napalitan na ng mga langaw. Ang mga mumunting tsinelas na inaanod nuon ay di na ganun karami, mas marami na ang mga bag bag ng basurang galing pa sa mga ilang lugar sa Maynila. At sa di kalayuan, tanaw mo ang crane na tila isang malaking halimaw na humahakot ng mga basurang itinatambak doon. Wala na ang kaskong ginagamit sa paghakot ng asin bagkus, malalaking barge na lulan ang basura ng mga karatig bayan ang syang pabalibalik sa kahabaan ng ilog na iyon.
Muli akong inabutan ng dapithapon sa Late. At tulad ng mga nakaraang pagkakataon, nalulungkot kong minasdan ang paglubog ng araw, wari ko'y kasabay nitong inililibing ang baryong minsan ko ring naging tahanan.
29.6.07
15.6.07
Fruit of Boredom
It's a very hot day. Too hot to enjoy summer. My day is restless. I feel bored. Maybe I need to do something. I read some of my favorite books. I know, I read them a couple of times before. But it doesn't matter. I still find my idols' works as amusing as the first time i read them.
While watching ASAP, I scan the pages of Jessica Zafra's Twisted 5 and Twisted 6. I like Jessica Zafra's writings. I find her works amazing and amusing at the same time. Her looks alone is enough to bring in me a sense of nostalgia. Her vintage looking eyeglasses make me remember my mom's picture while attending a "pasayaw" in a town fiesta sometime in the 1960's. I can also relate much on her not-so-pointed nose. Her looks makes me think I belong to the top 30% of this world's population when it comes to cuteness. Going back to her works, I like the way she cannibalizes herself for her own consumption. The way she recounted her experiences makes me feel she lives a very colorful life or makes it appear so. She makes the experience of being frisk by security guards of Glorietta or Megamall appear bigger than a mere security issue. It is more of a social isse and a person's concept of aesthetics. I one of her articles, she says that she is a "usual suspect" when she goes to malls, her bag is always closely examined like a laboratory specimen hoping to find explosive or a detailed plan of a terrorist attack - and this simply because of her looks. Fortunately, unlike her, I enjoy the luxury of entering malls with less scrutiny, and without being frisked at times. Well, not because I look extremely godly gorgeous but because, as one of my colleague once said, "Marlon looks decent and always smells good." And if you don't really know me well, you will find me shy, timid and boring. But I beg to disagree. I'm capable of plotting a coup and perhaps dominating the world. Ok, enough of me and Jessica Zafra - you might think she's my love interest.
By now, ASAP is over and I'm watching Your Song with Nikki Gil and Zanjoe Marudo. Call me nuts but I watch these stuff especially when I feel lazy, when I don't want to think much. THese are the shows that you already know the ending just by listening to the background music. And ok, I'll be honest, I have this what they call "pangmasa" taste. That's what I like about Bob Ong's works - comical, satirical, true - patok na patok. Some of the books of Bob Ong are what I considered as my precious collection of literary works. His works are easy to ingest, easy to digest and therefore have greater impact. Some of my frieds who read my works say that I write like him. But I refuse. I am not a clone of anyone. I wrote my first satirical essay in high school, around 1994 and my first published comic story was in 1999 under the name of teh "infamous" Paquito Paquiao (Pac Pac for short). At these times, I had not read any of his works nor heard his name in my dreams yet. Is he my clone then? I won't accept that. I'm younger, fresher, and conceited at times. But I'm not a narcissist.
The sun is about to rest. The heat is no longer as intensed as it was when I starting this article. I think this is done. I don't feel bored anymore. Killing time isn't really that bad afterall.
While watching ASAP, I scan the pages of Jessica Zafra's Twisted 5 and Twisted 6. I like Jessica Zafra's writings. I find her works amazing and amusing at the same time. Her looks alone is enough to bring in me a sense of nostalgia. Her vintage looking eyeglasses make me remember my mom's picture while attending a "pasayaw" in a town fiesta sometime in the 1960's. I can also relate much on her not-so-pointed nose. Her looks makes me think I belong to the top 30% of this world's population when it comes to cuteness. Going back to her works, I like the way she cannibalizes herself for her own consumption. The way she recounted her experiences makes me feel she lives a very colorful life or makes it appear so. She makes the experience of being frisk by security guards of Glorietta or Megamall appear bigger than a mere security issue. It is more of a social isse and a person's concept of aesthetics. I one of her articles, she says that she is a "usual suspect" when she goes to malls, her bag is always closely examined like a laboratory specimen hoping to find explosive or a detailed plan of a terrorist attack - and this simply because of her looks. Fortunately, unlike her, I enjoy the luxury of entering malls with less scrutiny, and without being frisked at times. Well, not because I look extremely godly gorgeous but because, as one of my colleague once said, "Marlon looks decent and always smells good." And if you don't really know me well, you will find me shy, timid and boring. But I beg to disagree. I'm capable of plotting a coup and perhaps dominating the world. Ok, enough of me and Jessica Zafra - you might think she's my love interest.
By now, ASAP is over and I'm watching Your Song with Nikki Gil and Zanjoe Marudo. Call me nuts but I watch these stuff especially when I feel lazy, when I don't want to think much. THese are the shows that you already know the ending just by listening to the background music. And ok, I'll be honest, I have this what they call "pangmasa" taste. That's what I like about Bob Ong's works - comical, satirical, true - patok na patok. Some of the books of Bob Ong are what I considered as my precious collection of literary works. His works are easy to ingest, easy to digest and therefore have greater impact. Some of my frieds who read my works say that I write like him. But I refuse. I am not a clone of anyone. I wrote my first satirical essay in high school, around 1994 and my first published comic story was in 1999 under the name of teh "infamous" Paquito Paquiao (Pac Pac for short). At these times, I had not read any of his works nor heard his name in my dreams yet. Is he my clone then? I won't accept that. I'm younger, fresher, and conceited at times. But I'm not a narcissist.
The sun is about to rest. The heat is no longer as intensed as it was when I starting this article. I think this is done. I don't feel bored anymore. Killing time isn't really that bad afterall.
On News and Papers
I like reading newspapers - broadsheets and tabloids alike. I read Philippine Daily Inquirer, Philippine Star, Manila TImes, Today, Manila Bulletin, Manila Standard, Tempo, Ngayon, PM, Bulgar, Taliba, People's Journal, among others. The primary purpose of me ready newspapers is not to be informed but to be entertained. Don't get me wrong. Don't think that I go straight to the entertainment section of the newspaper. There's no need for movie stars like Kris Aquino and Ruffa Gutierrez to grace the front page (or headline) of a broadsheet of national circulation to be "entertained." Philippine politics in itself is a soap material; the growing economy as claimed by the government, a fantaserye; and the Filipino life, a reality game show much like the Survivor. That's why I like PDI. News are presented in a bit sensational way. Like a soap opera, it makes you crave for more "what's next?" scenes; and like a showbiz talk show, the President's wardrobe is of national concern. Unlike PDI, Manila Bulletin presents news as they are. Like a history book, it tells you the what's, who's, when's, why's and how's of the story with less drama. MB's headlines are of less interest, at least based on my standard. MB sounds more like a Malacanang's spokesperson and to be me, blunt. Thanks to its 100-or-more pages of classified ads during Sundays, it's still the unemployed's newspaper.
When I was in college, I attended a journalism seminar in UST. We were told that news should be presented as they are, not sensationalized. But with the kind of news (often disappointing) we get from the papers on a daily basis, the readers might as well be informed and entertained at the same time.
When I was in college, I attended a journalism seminar in UST. We were told that news should be presented as they are, not sensationalized. But with the kind of news (often disappointing) we get from the papers on a daily basis, the readers might as well be informed and entertained at the same time.
I am a Superbeing
Twenty seven years, whew! antagal ko na palang nabubuhay sa earth, at sa 'Pinas pa. That only means one thing - I am a superbeing!
Having spent my entire life in this country, I have survived all kinds of disasters. Mula sa hagupit ng kalikasan - gaya ng bagyong Milenyo, baha sa Malabon, 1990s killer erathquake, pag-alburuto ng Pinatubo at ang magkapatid na si El Nino at La Nina - hanggang sa mga man-made disasters gaya ng Marcos' dictatorship, Honasan's kudeta, mga pagdukot at pagbomba ng Abu Sayaff, ang regimes ni Erap at GMA at ang maholdap sa Divisoria. Naranasan ko rin ang iba't ibang kawalan at kakulangan - brown outs, gripong hangin ang ibinubuga at hindi tubig, mga pader at postent mistulang public urinals, gobeyernong semi-functinal. Kasama rin sa daily routines ko ang mga katatakutan at adventures - mga malalaking potholes na maari kang lamunin at iluwa sa kabilang bahagi ng daigdig, mga banta sa buhay gaya ng "Huwag tatawid. Nakamamatay!", mga footbridge na kalahati lang ng paa mo ang kasya sa bawat hakbang ng stairs, ang makipagpatintero sa mga sasakyan na akala ng mga driver nito ay Chinese name and "PED XING" (pedestrian crossing), ang pagsinghot sa usok ng mga bus sa EDSA with matching scent ng mga nakabuyangyang na kanal.
This is my life. Sobrang sanay na ko sa stress, I can't live without it. Stress at hindi Stresstab ang aking daily supplement. Stress at hindi Centrum ang kumukumpleto sa vitamins at minerals ng katawan ko. Stress makes me COMPLETE.
I am a Pinoy. I am more than just a survivor. I am a SUPERBEING!
2:19am (advanced daw ng 23mins ang cp ko)
Election Day 2007
Having spent my entire life in this country, I have survived all kinds of disasters. Mula sa hagupit ng kalikasan - gaya ng bagyong Milenyo, baha sa Malabon, 1990s killer erathquake, pag-alburuto ng Pinatubo at ang magkapatid na si El Nino at La Nina - hanggang sa mga man-made disasters gaya ng Marcos' dictatorship, Honasan's kudeta, mga pagdukot at pagbomba ng Abu Sayaff, ang regimes ni Erap at GMA at ang maholdap sa Divisoria. Naranasan ko rin ang iba't ibang kawalan at kakulangan - brown outs, gripong hangin ang ibinubuga at hindi tubig, mga pader at postent mistulang public urinals, gobeyernong semi-functinal. Kasama rin sa daily routines ko ang mga katatakutan at adventures - mga malalaking potholes na maari kang lamunin at iluwa sa kabilang bahagi ng daigdig, mga banta sa buhay gaya ng "Huwag tatawid. Nakamamatay!", mga footbridge na kalahati lang ng paa mo ang kasya sa bawat hakbang ng stairs, ang makipagpatintero sa mga sasakyan na akala ng mga driver nito ay Chinese name and "PED XING" (pedestrian crossing), ang pagsinghot sa usok ng mga bus sa EDSA with matching scent ng mga nakabuyangyang na kanal.
This is my life. Sobrang sanay na ko sa stress, I can't live without it. Stress at hindi Stresstab ang aking daily supplement. Stress at hindi Centrum ang kumukumpleto sa vitamins at minerals ng katawan ko. Stress makes me COMPLETE.
I am a Pinoy. I am more than just a survivor. I am a SUPERBEING!
2:19am (advanced daw ng 23mins ang cp ko)
Election Day 2007
Why People Go To Street - A Personal View
View
To understand why people go to the streets and why the government of this country is under such a huge attack, one must look closely to the popular notion of a normal life in a Filipino family - that a man doing the productive work, while a woman as an ornamental consumer.
In a Filipino family, the role of the father is belived to be very important because without him the family cannot survive. "I have to take care of them. I am responsible. They are weak. Without me tehy would perish." These are just some of teh fatherly claims. Hence, he holds the highest authority in the family.
On the other hand, the mother nutures the child. The mother becomes the disciplinarian, the value giver, who tells what's right and what's not. In short, mother knows best.
But a small child recognizes what he sees more than what he is told. Words have less impact on him. A child sees his mother working around for him. He is told only that his fathers also works for him. When a father commutes to work, he has to leave early while the child is still sleeping and he comes home when the child s about to sleep. More often, the child sees his father watching TV, reading newspaper or taking a well-deserved nap. But to a child, these seem like sheer idleness. These experiences can hardly dispel the notion that his father is realy not up to much tasks. The father's work remains unseen and seems unreal, while the mother's activities are very visible, hence real. Now the mother becomes the carrier of the authority. While the child comes to doubt the legitimacy of the father's authority and may grow up to doubt the legitimacy of all authorities.
A child seeing his father at his place of work, with other strong men working hard, without him being aware of it, makes a deep impression on him. Such experiences make identification with his father seems worthwhile for a child.
Realization
I am not claiming that these observations are absolute and correct. I might not even have scientific basis for these. I am not saying that the a government that works in front of our eyes will shun people from going to the streets but this would at least lesses the occurence of demonstration. Afterall, the absence of tension is just as deadly as too much of it.
What the government needs to do is to recognize that unavoidable conflict exists, and it must not evade it. It must stand up and face real confrontation instead of giving demonstrators a dose of soothing syrup.
Yes, I may sound vague and too general. But the premises are simple, just the basics of life. Life is not about harmony. It is more of a conflict. Life results from an imbalance and the effort to establish balance. It is a conflict between thesis and antithesis, which is resolved in synthesis, which in turn generates a new antithesis for a new conflict. Without this process, life would come to a halt.
Next to sexual pleasure, one of the greatest experiences of life us climbing a mountain and growing hot and sweaty in the process then plunging into a cold lake. You may be shivering for a minute but what makes the difference is the sudden change from hot to cold. Where there is no tension, none is relieved.
But the present (and past) government wants life to run smoothly, doesn't want any difficulties. It wants the mountain to be lever and the pool to be lukewarm. Then it demands to be applauded. But what is the sound of one hand clapping? One hand alone strikes empty air and makes no sound at all.
5:20am (advanced by 23mins)
Election Day
To understand why people go to the streets and why the government of this country is under such a huge attack, one must look closely to the popular notion of a normal life in a Filipino family - that a man doing the productive work, while a woman as an ornamental consumer.
In a Filipino family, the role of the father is belived to be very important because without him the family cannot survive. "I have to take care of them. I am responsible. They are weak. Without me tehy would perish." These are just some of teh fatherly claims. Hence, he holds the highest authority in the family.
On the other hand, the mother nutures the child. The mother becomes the disciplinarian, the value giver, who tells what's right and what's not. In short, mother knows best.
But a small child recognizes what he sees more than what he is told. Words have less impact on him. A child sees his mother working around for him. He is told only that his fathers also works for him. When a father commutes to work, he has to leave early while the child is still sleeping and he comes home when the child s about to sleep. More often, the child sees his father watching TV, reading newspaper or taking a well-deserved nap. But to a child, these seem like sheer idleness. These experiences can hardly dispel the notion that his father is realy not up to much tasks. The father's work remains unseen and seems unreal, while the mother's activities are very visible, hence real. Now the mother becomes the carrier of the authority. While the child comes to doubt the legitimacy of the father's authority and may grow up to doubt the legitimacy of all authorities.
A child seeing his father at his place of work, with other strong men working hard, without him being aware of it, makes a deep impression on him. Such experiences make identification with his father seems worthwhile for a child.
Realization
I am not claiming that these observations are absolute and correct. I might not even have scientific basis for these. I am not saying that the a government that works in front of our eyes will shun people from going to the streets but this would at least lesses the occurence of demonstration. Afterall, the absence of tension is just as deadly as too much of it.
What the government needs to do is to recognize that unavoidable conflict exists, and it must not evade it. It must stand up and face real confrontation instead of giving demonstrators a dose of soothing syrup.
Yes, I may sound vague and too general. But the premises are simple, just the basics of life. Life is not about harmony. It is more of a conflict. Life results from an imbalance and the effort to establish balance. It is a conflict between thesis and antithesis, which is resolved in synthesis, which in turn generates a new antithesis for a new conflict. Without this process, life would come to a halt.
Next to sexual pleasure, one of the greatest experiences of life us climbing a mountain and growing hot and sweaty in the process then plunging into a cold lake. You may be shivering for a minute but what makes the difference is the sudden change from hot to cold. Where there is no tension, none is relieved.
But the present (and past) government wants life to run smoothly, doesn't want any difficulties. It wants the mountain to be lever and the pool to be lukewarm. Then it demands to be applauded. But what is the sound of one hand clapping? One hand alone strikes empty air and makes no sound at all.
5:20am (advanced by 23mins)
Election Day
Mayo Katorse
2007. Mainit. Tumatagos sa buto ang init. Hindi ko mawari ang pakiramdam. Tumatayo ang aking balahibo kapag dumadaloy ang pawis sa aking mga braso. Tila giniginaw ngunit hindi.
Naisip kong kagatin ang aking mga labi. Naghahangad na sana'y maramdaman ang hapding dulot nito upang maibaling ang nakapanlulumong pakiramdam ng init. Oo, lubhang mainit ang panahon. At ayokong lasapin ang parusang dulot nito.
Ngunit may pagpipilian ba? Kahit magsilbing bilanggo ang lamig na dulot ng makina sa silid, mahirap itong makaniig sa magdamag, sa maghapon, sapagkat bawat hapolos ng ginhawang hatid nito ay katumbas ng pawis na dumaloy sa iyong noo, mukha, katawan. Minsan pa nga'y dugo.
Ngayong araw na ito, mag-aagawan ang lamig at init. Rurok ng init, bungad ng tag-ulan. Magsasayawan ang mga palaka sa naipong tubig sa bitak na lupa. Ngunit ako'y nananatiling balisa. Giniginaw ngunit nag-aapoy ang kalooban.
Muli, hihintayin ko ang araw na ito. Hindi upang madama ang magkatunggaling init at lamig - ngunit upang makipagsaya sa awit ng mga palaka.
Naisip kong kagatin ang aking mga labi. Naghahangad na sana'y maramdaman ang hapding dulot nito upang maibaling ang nakapanlulumong pakiramdam ng init. Oo, lubhang mainit ang panahon. At ayokong lasapin ang parusang dulot nito.
Ngunit may pagpipilian ba? Kahit magsilbing bilanggo ang lamig na dulot ng makina sa silid, mahirap itong makaniig sa magdamag, sa maghapon, sapagkat bawat hapolos ng ginhawang hatid nito ay katumbas ng pawis na dumaloy sa iyong noo, mukha, katawan. Minsan pa nga'y dugo.
Ngayong araw na ito, mag-aagawan ang lamig at init. Rurok ng init, bungad ng tag-ulan. Magsasayawan ang mga palaka sa naipong tubig sa bitak na lupa. Ngunit ako'y nananatiling balisa. Giniginaw ngunit nag-aapoy ang kalooban.
Muli, hihintayin ko ang araw na ito. Hindi upang madama ang magkatunggaling init at lamig - ngunit upang makipagsaya sa awit ng mga palaka.
HiSkul ReUnion Na!
Hay... Malapit na ang hiskul reunion namin... Hindi ko mawari kung dapat ko bang ikatuwa na 10yrs ago, e inaawit ko pa and "Hark children of the great St. Paul..." at "My goal as a Paulinian is this..." o dapat akong maghinagpis dahil ang edad ko ay malapit na sa late twenties (hanggang ngayon itinuturing kong mid-twenties and age ko hehehe).
Biruin mo, 10yrs na yun! Ambilis talaga ng panahon. Muli kong makakasalamuha ang mga ex ko... ex-classmates, ex-crushes, ex-friends, ex-enemies. Muli kong magugunita ang mga taong binigyan ko ng love letters at stuff toys, ng friendship bracelets at 1/4 sheet of paper. Makikita ko ulit yung mga taong hinawakan ko sa ulo habang bumubulong ng orasyon sa tuwing may retreat {na mas mukang field trip sa dami ng baong pagkain, inuming ispiritwal (alak in short), at ang pinakamagandang tuwalya}. At napansin nyo ba ang paggamit ko ng bracket at parenthesis sa nakaraang sentence, natutunan ko yan ng hiskul, sa algebra - ang paborito kong subject.
Medyo kinakabahan ako sa papalapit na reunion... Balita ko, pag may reunion, ang mga tao daw ay nagiging walking resume. Ang topic... dyaaaraaan... college school, course, work experience at current work. Dapat maganda ang sagot mo, kaimpress impress lalo na kapag ang kausap mo ay si milenyo (kung hindi mo siya killala, sya yung bagyong kadaraan lang) Kailangan puno ng awards, citations, medalya, sampaguita at promotions ang iyong bukambibig. Kaya ako bibitbitin ko ang binili kong bahay at lupa sa sementeryo. Bwahahaha
Pero masarap gunitain ang hiskul life, ang sabayang pagbigkas (well, grandslam lang namin kami, never natalo from 1st to 4th yr), cheering competetion (na ni minsan sa apat na taon na kasaysayan ng aming hiskul life ay hindi namin napanalunan), nutri-jingle contest na kung ngayon mo kakantahin ay super duper corny ang dating at ang nakakatuwang college at foundation day. At kung natutunan ang pag-uusapan, dito ko natutunan ng maraming bagay - Algebra, Trigonometry, Geometry, Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Noli at El Fili. Dito ko rin nakilala ang iba't ibang personalidad, si Tata Selo, Ibarra, Simon, Elias, Salome, Maria Clara, Dona Consolacion at Padre Damaso (hindi ko lang sila nakilala sa mga aklat ni Pareng Jose Rizal kundi sila rin ay naging mga guro ko sa hiskul, bahala na kayong mag-isip kung sinu-sino sila). Isa pang hindi ko malilimutan sa hiskul life ay ang nakamamanghang friendships na may halong drama at action... may mga nag-uumpugang barkadahan.
Bukod sa mga itunuturo sa classroom, marami pa akong natutunang magandang aral sa buhay nung hiskul ako.. Una, dapat lagi kang nagnonotes dahil may mga gurong nagchecheck ng notebook pagkatapos ng grading period. Pangalawa, kumain ng mabilis para hindi abutan ng bell during break time. Pangatlo, huwag gumamit ng lumang libro kahit pareho lang ang laman ng luma at bago kase iniiba nila ang page numbers, lagot ka na kapag sinabi ng titser na answer activity no. 2 on page 32. Pang-apat, mag-absent ka na kapag pangpitong late mo na para di ka bumagsak sa conduct. Panglima, ang pagkakaiba ng lengthwise at crosswise. Pang-anim, ang paggamit ng binder, filler, at sign pen. Pangpito, na ang magandang brand ng coupon bond ay Corona at kapag ballpen o sign pen naman ay Pilot. Kasama na jan ang aral na huwag ibabagsak ang Pilot na ballpen dahil hindi na ito susulat kahit sindihan mo ng lighter ang dulo nito. Pangwalo, masarap maging lider sa group projects dahil hawak mo lahat ang budget. Pangsiyam, mahirap gumawa ng project kapag ipapasa na kinabukasan. Pangsampu, na ang karamihan pala ng mga estudyante sa St. Paul ay anak ng mga kasambahay, yaya at labandera. Sila kase ang madalas dumarating kapag ipinapatawag ang parents sa office ng prinsipal. Ilan lang yan sa mga ginintuang aral na natutunan ko sa hiskul.
Marami ding first ang naranasan, natikman at naamoy ko nung hiskul. First time kong gumamit ng chit instead ng totoong pera para bumili ng piattos. First time ko ring gumamit ng Post-it na totoo, hindi yung gaya ng reseta ng doktor na nilalagyan ko pa ng glue. First time ko ring umatend ng formal na party gaya ng JS Prom. Dati kase nakikinuod lang ako sa mga pasayaw sa plaza kapag may canvassing ng Ms. Caoayan. First time ko ring umatend ng first friday mass nung hiskul. First time ko ring makakita ng living rosary at huwag na kayong magtaka kung bahagi ako ng rosaryong iyon. First time ko ring nalaman na ang tawag pala sa kandilang nakalagay sa pulang baso ay vigil candle. First time ko ring nagkaroon ng Bench na body spray nung hiskul ako. First time ko ring tinubuan ng pimples, yung talagang PIMPLES! kaya first time ko ring natutunan ang gumamit ng facial cleanser a.k.a. eskinol at astringent. First time ko ring naranasang umabot ng halos isang oras sa ilalim ng araw dahil sa napakahabang flag ceremony... pambansang awit, panatang makabayan, flag ceremony prayer, St. Paul Hymn, Announcements at Korean exercise... at kapag minamalas ka pa, ipapaulit pa ang "Bayang magiliw..." kapag hindi satisfied ang prinsipal sa rendition namin ng pambansang awit. First time ko ring magsuot on PE uniform, dati puting tshirt lang at magarang shorts at rubber shoes - PE na! First time ko ring maging bahagi ng human pyramid at mag-acrobatic sa harap ng maraming tao. At marami pang first time na hindi ko na matandaan.
Pero higit sa lahat, ang hindi ko makakalimutan ay mga taong bumubuo sa akin ngayon - ang mga Sisters of St. Paul, ang mga kapitapitagang guro, mga kamag-aral, guard, janitor, tindera sa canteen, at ng aking mga naging superfriends!
November 23, 2006 in Me, Myself and I
Biruin mo, 10yrs na yun! Ambilis talaga ng panahon. Muli kong makakasalamuha ang mga ex ko... ex-classmates, ex-crushes, ex-friends, ex-enemies. Muli kong magugunita ang mga taong binigyan ko ng love letters at stuff toys, ng friendship bracelets at 1/4 sheet of paper. Makikita ko ulit yung mga taong hinawakan ko sa ulo habang bumubulong ng orasyon sa tuwing may retreat {na mas mukang field trip sa dami ng baong pagkain, inuming ispiritwal (alak in short), at ang pinakamagandang tuwalya}. At napansin nyo ba ang paggamit ko ng bracket at parenthesis sa nakaraang sentence, natutunan ko yan ng hiskul, sa algebra - ang paborito kong subject.
Medyo kinakabahan ako sa papalapit na reunion... Balita ko, pag may reunion, ang mga tao daw ay nagiging walking resume. Ang topic... dyaaaraaan... college school, course, work experience at current work. Dapat maganda ang sagot mo, kaimpress impress lalo na kapag ang kausap mo ay si milenyo (kung hindi mo siya killala, sya yung bagyong kadaraan lang) Kailangan puno ng awards, citations, medalya, sampaguita at promotions ang iyong bukambibig. Kaya ako bibitbitin ko ang binili kong bahay at lupa sa sementeryo. Bwahahaha
Pero masarap gunitain ang hiskul life, ang sabayang pagbigkas (well, grandslam lang namin kami, never natalo from 1st to 4th yr), cheering competetion (na ni minsan sa apat na taon na kasaysayan ng aming hiskul life ay hindi namin napanalunan), nutri-jingle contest na kung ngayon mo kakantahin ay super duper corny ang dating at ang nakakatuwang college at foundation day. At kung natutunan ang pag-uusapan, dito ko natutunan ng maraming bagay - Algebra, Trigonometry, Geometry, Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Noli at El Fili. Dito ko rin nakilala ang iba't ibang personalidad, si Tata Selo, Ibarra, Simon, Elias, Salome, Maria Clara, Dona Consolacion at Padre Damaso (hindi ko lang sila nakilala sa mga aklat ni Pareng Jose Rizal kundi sila rin ay naging mga guro ko sa hiskul, bahala na kayong mag-isip kung sinu-sino sila). Isa pang hindi ko malilimutan sa hiskul life ay ang nakamamanghang friendships na may halong drama at action... may mga nag-uumpugang barkadahan.
Bukod sa mga itunuturo sa classroom, marami pa akong natutunang magandang aral sa buhay nung hiskul ako.. Una, dapat lagi kang nagnonotes dahil may mga gurong nagchecheck ng notebook pagkatapos ng grading period. Pangalawa, kumain ng mabilis para hindi abutan ng bell during break time. Pangatlo, huwag gumamit ng lumang libro kahit pareho lang ang laman ng luma at bago kase iniiba nila ang page numbers, lagot ka na kapag sinabi ng titser na answer activity no. 2 on page 32. Pang-apat, mag-absent ka na kapag pangpitong late mo na para di ka bumagsak sa conduct. Panglima, ang pagkakaiba ng lengthwise at crosswise. Pang-anim, ang paggamit ng binder, filler, at sign pen. Pangpito, na ang magandang brand ng coupon bond ay Corona at kapag ballpen o sign pen naman ay Pilot. Kasama na jan ang aral na huwag ibabagsak ang Pilot na ballpen dahil hindi na ito susulat kahit sindihan mo ng lighter ang dulo nito. Pangwalo, masarap maging lider sa group projects dahil hawak mo lahat ang budget. Pangsiyam, mahirap gumawa ng project kapag ipapasa na kinabukasan. Pangsampu, na ang karamihan pala ng mga estudyante sa St. Paul ay anak ng mga kasambahay, yaya at labandera. Sila kase ang madalas dumarating kapag ipinapatawag ang parents sa office ng prinsipal. Ilan lang yan sa mga ginintuang aral na natutunan ko sa hiskul.
Marami ding first ang naranasan, natikman at naamoy ko nung hiskul. First time kong gumamit ng chit instead ng totoong pera para bumili ng piattos. First time ko ring gumamit ng Post-it na totoo, hindi yung gaya ng reseta ng doktor na nilalagyan ko pa ng glue. First time ko ring umatend ng formal na party gaya ng JS Prom. Dati kase nakikinuod lang ako sa mga pasayaw sa plaza kapag may canvassing ng Ms. Caoayan. First time ko ring umatend ng first friday mass nung hiskul. First time ko ring makakita ng living rosary at huwag na kayong magtaka kung bahagi ako ng rosaryong iyon. First time ko ring nalaman na ang tawag pala sa kandilang nakalagay sa pulang baso ay vigil candle. First time ko ring nagkaroon ng Bench na body spray nung hiskul ako. First time ko ring tinubuan ng pimples, yung talagang PIMPLES! kaya first time ko ring natutunan ang gumamit ng facial cleanser a.k.a. eskinol at astringent. First time ko ring naranasang umabot ng halos isang oras sa ilalim ng araw dahil sa napakahabang flag ceremony... pambansang awit, panatang makabayan, flag ceremony prayer, St. Paul Hymn, Announcements at Korean exercise... at kapag minamalas ka pa, ipapaulit pa ang "Bayang magiliw..." kapag hindi satisfied ang prinsipal sa rendition namin ng pambansang awit. First time ko ring magsuot on PE uniform, dati puting tshirt lang at magarang shorts at rubber shoes - PE na! First time ko ring maging bahagi ng human pyramid at mag-acrobatic sa harap ng maraming tao. At marami pang first time na hindi ko na matandaan.
Pero higit sa lahat, ang hindi ko makakalimutan ay mga taong bumubuo sa akin ngayon - ang mga Sisters of St. Paul, ang mga kapitapitagang guro, mga kamag-aral, guard, janitor, tindera sa canteen, at ng aking mga naging superfriends!
November 23, 2006 in Me, Myself and I
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