A TALE OF TWO STORMS

It was a weekend

No one suspected

A tragedy will bend

And bring a near End

Thousands were affected

Shining souls emerged

Genuine help surfaced

Though immensely devastated, we say WE SURVIVED ONDOY.

Another strong wind

In the north was sent

Floods were back in the scene

Destruction named Pepeng

It is high time people in the position works

It is the right time to test those promising words

True sympathy is what we need

Not the one that fulfills personal heeds

SUNDAYS GONE BAD

For so many times, I have mentioned in this blog my liking for Sunday mass. It’s always refreshing whenever I attend weekend church. I know you would agree when I say that weekend Sunday mass re-energizes our soul from the whole week filled of different stress and tiring factors.

But lately, I was disappointed with how the mass in our church proceeds. I am specifically disappointed with the two priests heading the mass. Now, before you raise your eyebrows, let me just say that what I’m going to say here are pure observations of a layman and a normal attendee of a mass. Also, I don’t aim to shed a bad light on my own religion- these are all isolated opinions from an isolated case. (Defensive much? He He He.)

Now, here we go with the stories. Let us tag the two priests as P1 and P2.

P1 would always enter stuffs about the government in his homily. He would actually sound like a radio commentator bursting in surreal madness about the moves and decisions of the current government. I actually checked the “separation of government and church” school thought and then I found it weird that a priest is actually talking about politics.

P2 on the other hand is a very conservative speaker. He would only speak of the current events then marry it to what’s written in the Bible - He is just straightforward, soft and very holy. The only problem is I can’t seem to get the significant points of his homily. I can’t get the point because he’s literally eating his words. I don’t know if it’s the echo or the microphone, but I can hear other mass attendees saying that they too can’t understand P2’s speech.

I don’t aim to disrespect anyone, but I hope in some possible ways the universe will conspire and our church will read this entry in my blog. I want my empowering and refreshing Sunday mass back.

Boto mo, iPatrol mo : Ako ang Simula

I am 22 years old, pure Filipino, non-registered voter and these got me thinking.

Swine Flu Galore

The Bus

The daily commute is a routine I’ve been living with for so long now. Unlike people who won a private vehicle, commuters like me need a lot of patience and strategy towards getting to a certain destination. A commuter also opens up into a lot of stories around him on a daily basis- Stories that can be fun, annoying, and sad; all worthy to be remembered. Now, let me share my own pieces of stories I witnessed throughout my daily ride in the bus.

Peanut, water, and candy vendors are usual elements of my daily roads. They are worthy of my attention if and when I need them but if I don’t, they are mere common articles that are sometimes annoying with their shouts just so that someone will buy their merchandise. Then I came to realize that these people are just trying to earn some living. They should be commended for finding means to survive. Then, one time I saw a mineral water vendor snatched a lady’s necklace from the bus somewhere in Kamuning area. I don’t aim to generalize, but what am I supposed to make out of these characters?

Then there was this one time- five minutes passed after I alighted the bus. A man on his late 40’s rode in with a paper on his hand. He appeared like a person who neglected hygiene. He’s talking to every person in the bus, from one seat to another. When he appeared in front of me, I learned that his asking for some help. He lost his wife the night before and the document on his hand is her death certificate. According to him, he has no one to seek help with that’s why he shattered all shame and lead to strangers. He can’t afford not to give his wife a decent burial. It came into me so deep. What if I am the one on his shoes? It just came so unbelievable to me that some people can be so helpless especially in this sad event of death.

Now, this story brought me into dropping a tear. The bus I’m riding is fast in escaping the wild eyes of MMDA people. A man with his two crutches pleaded for the bus to stop. Passing a few meters from him, he tried his best to ride in. Then the vehicle went running towards the Toll way. With my ear phones on, I tried to snooze away as I listen to Fall Out Boy. A little commotion awakened my senses. The guy in crutches wants to step out of the bus. It is prohibited to do this as commanded by NLEX rules. The guy then exclaimed in a soft objection: “I am exempted in that rule! Look, I don’t have money for fare, someone stole my wallet.” What person can do such shameless deed? -By all definitions, “to hell with you! Whoever you are bastard!”

I don’t know, but I always wonder how someone thinks. I always wonder how someone feels after an event took place – be it bad, sad or happy. With these stories, all I can do is think that Karma is a beautiful logic.

Student Activism

I am a graduate of PUP, an institution known for activism and massive student actions. I remember being asked if I was a student activist during college in almost all of my job interviews right after I graduated. I was never active in doing protests. To start with, I was never a student activist. I never grew interest to take the part. It’s not because I find the idea lousy or insignificant, but maybe I am not that brave and bold to siege the streets and roam the university to voice out opinions of opposition to our university policies.

I remember one professor say that the state of our university reflects the state of the nation. I would say partly true, except for the truth that no high class, well powered people are dwelling within our grounds. We are a state university which holds real “masa” students who are aware of the things happening around them. The “mass” segment that doesn’t fear people in ranks and position. We see what’s wrong. Some of us (including myself) will stay mum about it while most will go out and fight for what’s right.

I would always look up to those student activists. I commend them for their courage and stamina to fight for their beliefs and convictions. On a nutshell, I believe that activism is within us all. We may not be roaming the streets to shout and be bombarded by policemen, but we take participation in our own little ways. Getting involved doesn’t mean getting into the streets all the time. There are so many other avenues to fight. What’s substantial is that we know what’s wrong from right, and consult our conscience to decide which party to side with.

CHAKA DOLL

“If you want to look like Piolo Pascual and Dingdong Dantes, you go to Belo. If you want to look like Boy Abunda, then go to Calayan.” – Vicky Belo quoted on one of her interview at a Showbiz talk show. This could be mere rival of networks. This could be mere rival of brands. This could be a mere product of rival endorsements. This could mean a lot especially in Philippine TV where sensationalism is quite a daily bread. But one thing is clear here – a vivid discrimination between the ugly and the beautiful.

I remember this one time on the MRT. It was a Saturday afternoon and I stepped in at Taft station. Two “kolehiyala” girls went in with an obvious stance of class and society voice. These two girls stood in front of me, too close I Could smell their expensive colognes. The train started and a few minutes after we reached the next station. Men rode in - Men who are obviously employed with some menial jobs. I wouldn’t deny the fact that they stink. But I kept it in my mind and did not show any offensive reaction or gesture. I am very sensitive with smell, but I kept my cool and prayed that soon the smell may subside. But the girls i mentioned earlier couldn’t keep their mouth shut.

“Goodness to hell! What’s that smell?”

“Girl, it’s coming from the Chaka dolls who just rode in”

Apparently, “Chaka” is a gay lingo which basically means something or someone is visually unpleasant and unsightly. These girls thought the guys can’t comprehend English language because they uttered the lines so loud. I believe the guys did get the point because they were all silent after hearing the girls.

It would be hypocrisy if I will say that I don’t see the difference between what’s beautiful and what’s not. I am in an industry which requires definitive sense of taste and a clear command on which is aesthetically acceptable and which is not. But beyond these, I still believe in respect and humility. One can be better than the other but one should not be shouting it all loud to the entire world. No one has the right to tell someone about his/her inferiority especially if it aims to discriminate alone.

I like someone who is effortlessly beautiful but is unaware of it.

STARBUCKS LIMITED RED CUPS ON THE ROAD

Last holiday season, people on the roads were obscured by red Starbucks cups placed on top of vehicles parading/roaming around the Metro. This is a gimmick launched by Starbucks to give away free cups of coffee for those people who spot the limited edition cup attached in the vehicle. I find this marketing gimmick brilliant and very cost effective. We all know how traffic is so high during the holidays and vehicle volume is just crazy. This move of attaching fake limited edition Starbucks cups on top of the vehicles is quite a novelty.

The Starbucks people were surprised to see metro aids, traffic enforcers and normal street people spotting the red cups. According to them, those people who qualify within their market would usually ignore things around them because of their busy minds, perhaps because of busy lives. Those normal people who were handed stubs were all too surprised and frantic thinking that they might have been logged under the “Wow Mali” scheme! Now that’s very Pinoy!

Well, I will surely spot for these red cups if in case Starbucks will still hold same gimmick next holidays seasons. Wont you?

TAWAD SYSTEM

Having done a lot of shopping and purchases last holiday reign, I have noticed that a Filipino trait remains as ubiquitous as ever. I believe that this Filipino trait has travelled way past the old ages and it has evolved into many faces up until it reached the contemporary. I am talking about the “Tawad System”. Like “Filipino time” (being late for significant events) and “Manyana” Habit (procrastination), “Tawad System” has been deemed rather negative and an actual mishap in thinking that this can actually make us Filipinos look smart and well, practical. Say the term can also be concealed in business to be “negotiation” or “singing bids”.

I have to admit that I do “tawad” most of the time especially when I am in a very casual place with absence of security, parking and yes, air conditioning systems. Unlike the set trend of always asking for half the price (which is just outward wrong and “bastardic”), I always try to psyche up the “tindera” to what selling price is acceptable for her which will do great favour for both of us. For example, I am confident to have “tawad” when I am to purchase more than one unit.

But, “tawad system” can be so wrong. Business people are already aware of this practice so they have the tendency to over- price goods and/or services to give provision for “tawad”. Price negotiations can take place in all sorts of purchases and I wonder if prostitution can also welcome “tawad” in the industry.

I think that you also use this tricky Filipino trait most of the time. I see nothing wrong with this for as long as it’s always a mutual agreement and not a self-serving trick you do just to push your high belief in the cliche “customer is always right”.

Add on: The Menace was doing this article while he watches “You don’t Mess with the Zonan”. The Menace thought the movie was totally no-brainer and was done in honor of all the pervs out there. But, he can’t help but admit that the movie was totally funny. The Menace was also writing this down while negotiating with her sister on who shall be in-charge of the laundry now that their mom sprained her middle finger which was stacked in washing machine while doing the laundry. The Menace wins above her sister and accepted the compromise to do the dishes instead.