Traveling a Möbius Strip

We throw away rubbish, not life.

2010-09-14T11:35:00.004+08:00

A newborn baby was found in the trash bin of an airplane's lavatory.

Baby found in plane's trash bag (Inquirer)
Unwanted baby won't be wanting of a loving mother (Inquirer)

He was named George Francis, and by grace of God, he is now living.
But without a mother.

I want to condemn the mother who threw away her son.
What would be her reasons?
But the sad reality that the world is now placing a very low value on human life transcends the incident. It is an affirmation of what we have become.
Abortion. Death penalty. Murder.

God created the world, and breathed His air for us.
His air. Not ours.

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

I Hope

2010-08-26T15:54:00.005+08:00

I stumbled upon a link to a HuffPost article over Facebook; read on...

The Philippine Bus and Miss Universe (Daniel Wagner)

Have we, Filipinos, really lost hope?
Maybe. Maybe for some. Maybe for the majority.
But one thing's for sure, I haven't.

A friend once told me: "What would it take to prove the existence or non-existence of fairy-tale love? A million broken hearts? Or just one successful real-life story?"

Sans the fairytale and mushy love, this is aptly a question for all of us.
Nay, a challenge.

One's opinion is not absolute reality.

Daniel Wagner might have seen something in us.
We could prove otherwise.

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

My Day's Wisdom # 3

2010-06-18T00:42:00.002+08:00

"Never go on the offense.
Always on the defense.
But never use feelings.
Be defensive through reason."

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

My Day's Wisdom # 2

2009-12-14T19:28:00.000+08:00

"We can only learn what has been.
We can only guess what lies ahead.
Today, we are given choices.
Just decide."

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

If I Die Today...

2009-11-10T10:18:00.008+08:00

... I'm sure I'm not ready; 99% not ready.

I still have to see the world.
I still have to do everything in my Bucket List.
I still have to do something significant to change the world.
I still have to run for president (needs to be immortal to do this).

This is just a thought that struck me today; a thought I entertained as I passed by my usual route to office, finding myself in the middle of armed bank security personnel along Paseo de Roxas. Armored cars were ready for an apparent transfer of humongous sum of money (just assuming considering it's the bank's headquarters). What if the same group that made the heist in Greenbelt 5 suddenly appears? There will be gunfires. People will scramble for their lives. And I'll be there, standing numbly with a bullet on my chest. My life will flash before my eyes.

And then silence.

That same silence will overcome me as I face Heaven's gate; I'll be unable to say anything, anything good. Was I good? It is easy to say that I'm good but then it is just me. If I have the chance to look down and see my own wake, what would the people there have to say? Would they be crying? Would they feel that it has been a loss? Would they say: "He was good."?

I reckon all the good words we can say to a person can only be uttered earnestly on eulogies. I mean, words that never crossed anybody's mind when that person is living, or words we held back. Maybe because words are cheap and that action speaks louder than words. Words are cheap in this temporal world because we made it that way. We grew up with words to our whimsical disposal. When we lose someone dear to us, the only thing we can give are words but then, these are real words -- the sum of all the love for that person who'll not be here to hear those words.

If I die today (yes, even if I'm not ready -- aren't we all?) and someone whispers "he was good" even in the faintest of heartbeat yet heartfelt, it shall be enough.

Action maybe louder but words are eternal.

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

Death Has Lost Its Victory

2009-11-05T18:05:00.013+08:00

It is the same way with the resurrection of the dead.

Our earthly bodies are planted in the ground when we die,
but they will be raised to live forever.
Our bodies are buried in brokenness, but they will be raised in glory.
They are buried in weakness, but they will be raised in strength.
They are buried as natural human bodies,
but they will be raised as spiritual bodies.
For just as there are natural bodies, there are also spiritual bodies.

The Scriptures tell us, “The first man, Adam, became a living person.”
But the last Adam—that is, Christ—is a life-giving Spirit.
What comes first is the natural body, then the spiritual body comes later.
Adam, the first man, was made from the dust of the earth,
while Christ, the second man, came from heaven.
Earthly people are like the earthly man,
and heavenly people are like the heavenly man.
Just as we are now like the earthly man,
we will someday be like the heavenly man.

What I am saying, dear brothers and sisters,
is that our physical bodies cannot inherit the Kingdom of God.
These dying bodies cannot inherit what will last forever.

But let me reveal to you a wonderful secret.

We will not all die, but we will all be transformed!

It will happen in a moment, in the blink of an eye,
when the last trumpet is blown.
For when the trumpet sounds,
those who have died will be raised to live forever.
And we who are living will also be transformed.
For our dying bodies must be transformed into bodies that will never die;
our mortal bodies must be transformed into immortal bodies.

Then, when our dying bodies have been transformed
into bodies that will never die, this Scripture will be fulfilled:

“Death is swallowed up in victory.
O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?”

For sin is the sting that results in death, and the law gives sin its power.
But thank God!
He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ.

1 Corinthians 15:42-57

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

My Day's Wisdom # 1

2009-11-03T17:15:00.006+08:00

"Don't get mesmerized by magic;
be inspired by a miracle."

I woke up this morning with this wisdom in mind. I don't know why.
There were no prior events that may have lead to this.
There was no dream prior to my waking.
It's just one of those things that just strike you
when one is crossing that fuzzy area
separating reality from reverie;
so as miracle from magic minus the fuzziness. :)

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

Literary # 4

2009-08-27T23:55:00.007+08:00

Lights blinking.
Alarms resonating.
Engine pumping life to itself.

To where I sit I can see the one I set:

21 July 2009 20:00

Anticipation rushed like blood.

I pressed the red button.

Boom!

It failed me.

And in the silence after,
I found myself alone with my time machine.

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

Pilipinas 2010: A Case of Amnesia

2009-08-25T23:14:00.005+08:00

The penchant of Filipinos to teleseryes seems to efface the boundary that separates reality from that of a whim of a scriptwriter. Though the term is evolving (i.e. from soap opera to telenovela to fantaserye etc.), the recurring themes of these primetime melodramas remain unchanged: wealth gap of characters; goons, guns and gold; children separated from parents; and the most common of all, amnesia. I know most of us are drawn to real-life dramas we see on the boob tube; it is bad enough for this country to have a seemingly ill-defined difference between show business and politics. But to succumb to another amnesia? We might as well pledge allegiance to another country!

We must not forget what happened in the past, especially those that just happened in very recent history. No one is barred from running for president as long as he/she meets the constitutional requirement --

ARTICLE VII Section 2. No person may be elected President unless he is a natural-born citizen of the Philippines, a registered voter, able to read and write, at least forty years of age on the day of the election, and a resident of the Philippines for at least ten years immediately preceding such election.

-- unless he/she is an ex-impeached official. We had the country's first impeachment trial on a president but it was not concluded. The former president was not impeached, he was overthrown. What happened in the early days of 2001 is a political coup. So technically (plus the fact that he was pardoned; restoring civil and political rights), Joseph Ejercito Estrada can run for president in the coming election. Well after saying that he is 99.9 percent sure of seeking (again) the highest office in the land, I bet there will be a lot who will challenge this with the High Court. If ever there will be a ruling by the Supreme Court on the issue of either an ex-president who haven't finished his term (remember, technically he is not impeached) or an ex-president running again for the same position after the term of his successor, this will definitely be a landmark case. What ever the ruling be, this will resolve the ambiguity of the 1987 Constitution on the provision on presidential term; this can also answer whether GMA is allowed to run for Congress after her term as president. No one had ever done this in post-EDSA years -- Tita Cory and FVR retired to private life, albeit politically influential -- so it hasn't been really looked into as it will be in the coming days.

But let us leave all these technicalities to those who are legally equipped. The question now is if the Filipino people still suffers from amnesia. I didn't join the so-called EDSA II because it was not as noble as that of its predecessor; I believe it was done out of impulse and out of drama by that walkout of the prosecution team in the Senate eight years ago. Don't get me wrong, I didn't and will never like Erap. It's just that we could have just followed what was constitutionally right. It was just a brown envelope! Years later it was opened. Lo and behold, nothing inside. If they could have just continued on with the trial. If they could have just waited for the final verdict. If they could have just stopped watching teleseryes. I chose to just sleep in the dorm after the school announced "no classes" that time. I reckon it was a slap on democracy's face. I'm sorry to those who believe in the spirit of EDSA II but this is just my opinion. And I can say I made the right choice: we have GMA as our president instead and now, Erap is running again with a vengeful heart for sure! To those who made api to our bida, "pupulutin kayo sa kangkungan!" Hahahaha! (sounding like a kontrabida on a horse, wearing black boots matching a wide ranchero hat with a whip stick clutched by the hand) I'm sure Charo Santos-Concio and Wilma Galvante will scramble for this teleserye material.

I just hope people who watch us don't turn the TV off.

Unless we revise the script on the 2010 election.

***

Note that EDSA II, in my opinion, is the EDSA of Imperial Manila. So Erap still has a high chance of winning because those present in EDSA II were not his voters in the first place. However, in the 1998 presidential elections, he only got thirty percent (30%) of the votes. Seventy percent (70%) became fragmented to remaining candidates. If only we could rally on "one" president. I believe this 70% comprise the thinking public; not that I'm saying that the 30% are inutile, they can still be informed of the real facts. So go blog. Discuss with friends. Volunteer to voters' education campaign. In any way we can help is a start. Nine months to go!

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

Pilipinas 2010: An Introduction

2009-08-24T10:32:00.021+08:00

Where are the youth who will consecrate their golden hours,
their illusions, and their enthusiasm to the welfare of their native land?
Where are you, youth, who will embody in yourselves the vigor of life
that has left our veins, the purity of ideas that has been contaminated
in our brains, the fire of enthusiasm that has been quenched in our hearts?
We wait you, o youth! Come, for we await you!

-- Padre Florentino, El Filibusterismo by Dr. Jose P. Rizal

Ako ang simula.

I am the beginning.

This ABS-CBN campaign geared towards the 2010 elections is apt in this time of uncertainty and cynical Filipinos. Not that I personally advocate the campaign itself, but the "phrase" is just the perfect rallying cry to ignite a revolution and I don't think anyone will be sued for copyright infringement by using this on his/her blog.

Yes, a revolution. The word seems to be too strong and too harsh -- seems like I'm insinuating a political coup -- yet one might only think this way because one might be more like Simoun than like Ibarra. More like Simoun because he is the personification of vengeful Filipinos; tired of the current system and yielded to the only way they think is possible to exact change: remember in El Filibusterismo when Simoun tried to blow up Kapitan Tiago's former residence with all the government officials, friars and the rest of the upper-class inside during the wedding of Paulita? I bet there are lots of Filipinos (including me!) who, even once in their lives (many times for me..), out of desperation, thought of blowing up Batasang Pambansa complex during one of the State of the Nation Addresses. Imagine the fireworks. Imagine a total restart of our seemingly hopeless government. It is the start, I would say. But it would not, says my conscience. Because in order to reboot this country, we might need to ask Obama to lend us one of their Inter-Continental Ballistic Missiles and to zero in the heart of the archipelago because it was not only the upper-class who were present in that wedding party, we all were. And I'm sure it is what Rizal really wanted to say for in the course of his novel, he didn't let Simoun succeed; the explosion was prevented when Isagani throw himself in the river together with the lamp which was the detonator. Ironically, Simoun is really Ibarra; once an idealistic man who dreamt of change through diplomacy and education. No bombs. No explosions. Just a pure desire for change. And that is the real start of a genuine revolution.

I might need to stop whining.
I might need to stop being cynical.
I might need to stop thinking that the next elections will be futile.
I need to cease being Simoun.

My vote counts, and the votes of the many Ibarras out there.

***

And this will be the start of a series of blog entries relating to the 2010 Presidential Elections: analyses of current events, profile study of presidentiables and other candidates etc. It is never too late and the result of this election can change the face of the Philippines after 2010, and beyond.

As a start, let me re-post a link to an Inquirer article on presidentiable Sen. Manuel "Mar" Roxas II:
http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/inquirerheadlines/nation/view/20090824-221729/Bending-rules-for-success-only-in-RPRoxas.

Honestly, I started to dislike him. No thanks to his PR team who made him do the "pedicab" stint. I know melodramas can be a hit to a typical Filipino household, but to make it a background of a politcal ad (premature it may seem) leaves a bad taste in the mouth. At least Villar banks on the upbeat nature of the current generation. Though a typical "trapo" (i.e. TRAditional POlitics) ad, I can still hum to the beat of his jingle minus my vote. Not to mention the Mar-Korina love affair and the much talked about "wedding of the year", though it would be unfair of me to judge this delicate matter of the heart so I leave that to destiny. But I digress; back to the article.

He was invited in a "town hall" meeting with businessmen, professionals and the likes, and he shared his opinions on some pertinent issues of the country. To summarize:

1. Charter Change is not a requirement to improve economy; what we need is for foreign investors to do business without having to deal with harassment, coercion or corruption, not to own lands. (Clap! Clap!)

2. Transparency in Cabinet officials bank accounts. (Same song, same lyrics.)

3. Extra school year; from 10 years to, maybe, 12 years in elementary and secondary education. (I disagree.)

4. The country’s service-dominated economy was not healthy; focus on manufacturing and especially agriculture. (That's what I'm talking about! I hope he meant what he said.)

Read the entirety of the article. After what I read, I might consider Mar Roxas in my list. I just hope there will be a lot of venues where candidates can properly present themselves as if a job interview and the entire Filipino people as a panel interviewer.

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

Literary # 3

2009-08-20T00:02:00.003+08:00

Sana May Bagong Brasil...

Kung saan musika ang hangin mula sa dagat;
Kung saan ang buhangin ang nagbibigay-lapat;
Kung saan ang araw ay sadyang muling sisikat;
Kung saan ang pangarap ay unti-unting iaangat.

Kung saan kami'y magkakasama,
Busog sa mga kwento at tawa;
Magpakalunod sa kape, 'di nagsasawa
Dahil alam naming dito kami ay isa.

Ang Brasil ay isa nang masayang kahapon,
Alam kong maaaring 'di na magkaroon;
Ngunit may plano ang Dakilang Poon,
Nawa'y sa panalangin Siya'y sumang-ayon.

At sa muling paglipad papalayo sa tinubuan,
Dala ko ang pag-asa't iiwan ang kasawian.
Bibilang man ng taon, lilipas man ang walang-hanggan,
Alam ko, sa bagong Brasil, bagong AKO'y magkakalaman.

Layon ko ma'y lumayo,
Nais ko ma'y um-eskapo,
Mga Brasileira't Brasileiro:
Você gostar dele também, não?

Vamos!

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

Please Listen To What I Am Not Saying

2009-08-16T11:43:00.005+08:00

Don't be fooled by me.
Don't be fooled by the face I wear
for I wear a mask, I wear a thousand masks,
masks that I'm afraid to take off,
and none of them is me.

Pretending is an art that's second nature with me,
but don't be fooled,
for God's sake don't be fooled.
I give you the impression that I'm secure,
that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without,
that confidence is my name and coolness my game,
that the weather's calm and I'm in command
and that I need no one.

But don't believe me. Please.
My surface may seem smooth but my surface is my mask,
ever-varying and ever-concealing.
Beneath lies no complacence.
Beneath lies confusion, and fear, and aloneness.
But I hide this. I don't want anybody to know it.
I panic at the thought of my weakness exposed.
That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind,
a nonchalant sophisticated facade,
to help me pretend,
to shield me from the glance that knows.

But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only hope,
and I know it.
That is, if it's followed by acceptance,
if it's followed by love.
It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself,
from my own self-built prison walls,
from the barriers I so painstakingly erect.
It's the only thing that will assure me
of what I can't assure myself,
that I'm really worth something.
But I don't tell you this. I don't dare to, I'm afraid to.
I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance,
will not be followed by love.
I'm afraid you'll think less of me,
that you'll laugh, and your laugh would kill me.
I'm afraid that deep-down I'm nothing
and that you will see this and reject me.

So I play my game, my desperate pretending game,
with a facade of assurance without
and a trembling child within.
So begins the glittering but empty parade of masks,
and my life becomes a front.
I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk.
I tell you everything that's really nothing,
and nothing of what's everything,
of what's crying within me.
So when I'm going through my routine
do not be fooled by what I'm saying.
Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying,
what I'd like to be able to say,
what for survival I need to say,
but what I can't say.

I don't like hiding.
I don't like playing superficial phony games.
I want to stop playing them.
I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me.

But you've got to help me.

***
This was a literary piece assigned to me during my
High School (HS) Sophomore English Class.
We were asked to make a cassette tape recording of ourselves reading this
in such a way that our teacher can feel our emotion and,
in a way, our personal interpretation of the poem.
Also, this was read to us during one of our Recollection activities back in HS;
being a Catholic school, that is.

There has been numerous versions over the internet and other media,
and that the author seems to be unknown.
Though a site credits the latter to a certain Charles C. Finn
whose name appears to be un-Wikipedia-ble.

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

I Bought An Umbrella Today

2009-08-13T22:30:00.005+08:00

I haven't slept the night before. I don't know if it was my head or my chest that was going to burst. I just know that it was my longest night ever.

I came to work late. If it was the weeks before when overnight activities were like eternity, going to work at almost midday would be acceptable. But this week is like the "calm before the storm" of my current project. Less pressure. Sleep is like gold free for all. I have all the reason to be at my desk at 9AM, but at almost 12NN I was like a lifeless piece of organic slab dragged to a place it doesn't want to be at that moment. Luckily, no urgent tasks for the day and the said professional boo-boo went unnoticed.

Exhausted by an unlikely combination of a seemingly insignificant stint on MS Excel and of a burden from a sleepless night, I walked out of the office; out of the building; out to nowhere. I kept walking oblivious from everything and everyone I passed by. Maybe this is one of the advantages when working in a very familiar place (say, home country); going from one place to another is already part of the body reflex. My feet seemed to have their own consciousness that time while my own waking self wandered as if dreaming.

And then I stopped.

Suddenly I felt lost. From a well-defined route of the bridgeway came the familar confusion of a department store. People coming from everywhere. Salesladies crossing everyone's path. Shoppers stopping on every stand to check out stuffs and prices. Though asking the exact reason why I found myself in a shopping mall, I continued on with my wandering desperate to free my mind from the things that bother.

And then I stopped. Again.

An array of umbrella displays caught my attention. The usual saleslady routine greeted me. Five minutes and I found myself carrying a three-hundred-peso black Grosser Schatten full-sized umbrella. I don't know what's with the umbrella aside from it is German and it is the new Fibrella, as per the courteous saleslady. I don't know why I bought it in the first place when I still have my two-year-old Baclaran-bought folding black umbrella stuffed in my backpack. It was all spontaneous. It was unplanned.

It didn't rain today though. I may have taken a wrong move buying this umbrella. But then, I remembered the other day when I cursed my old folding umbrella for failing to shield me from a heavy late-night downpour. Maybe it is time to buy a new one; a bigger and sturdy one. Impulsive it may seem but later realisations affirm my earlier action. Today might be the "calm before the storm" but this umbrella will surely be a dependable partner when another Milenyo hits the Metro.

Maybe that's what I need, being more spontaneous in my life. I can be spontaneous on things that doesn't involved long-term result that could alter the course of my life. A bus ride to Rio. Overnight videoke. A roadtrip up North. An Indochine backpacking. A new umbrella. But I tend to be a master planner when talking about what I will be ten years from now. I think to much. I plan too much. I risk so little. That is why a plan that doesn't go as planned strikes straight to the heart. Nothing prepares me from this.

At least I'm sure I will not get wet tomorrow when it rains.

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

Children of Democracy, Let Your Voices Be Heard!

2009-08-07T19:42:00.020+08:00

Go out and register for the May 10, 2010
national and presidential election now!

For those who will be 18 years old and above during the same date, you are constitutionally eligible to participate in the most important right as a free Filipino. This is not only a privilege but a responsibility.

COMELEC has already gone out of its way to entice voters to register by establishing sattelite offices in schools, village halls, and other public facilities. Dapat silang i-clap clap!

For those who think that they are already registered, you can verify your status through COMELEC website:

http://www.comelec.gov.ph/

Go to Continuing Registration.

Then to Registration Verification.

And finally, fill up your personal information.

Voila!

You should be getting the same result.
If not, go to your nearest COMELEC office and personally verify.

Note that a registered voter should have a biometric voter's ID like the one below. I'm not sure if your ID having no hologram watermark makes it invalid, but it should essentially have your photograph, signature and thumbmark. Moreover, if you received it just in time for the 2004 election, it is definitely a valid biometric ID. However, if you still don't have it but your registration has been verified through their website, maybe you have to wait for it.

Or maybe verify the status of the ID by sending e-mail to voters_id@comelec.gov.ph with the following information:

full voter's name (first name, middle name, last name)
date of birth
address

Note that this process is crucial since the poll body conducted purging of the old voters' list in order to weed out demised or redundant individuals. They have removed four million names (imagine the possible numbers of "ghost" voters!) in the list. Of that number, only about 400,000 people have asked the COMELEC to include them in the list, as of June. So better check before the deadline on the 31st of October this year!

In the 2007 mid-term elections, there were some 45 million voters but for next year’s local elections, the poll body is aiming to get around three million more voters. [www.inquirer.net]

Shed tears for Tita Cory?

It's our time. Go, be heard and continue to defend democracy.

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

Woman Presidents of the Republic of the Philippines

2009-08-06T23:48:00.003+08:00

We only have two.

Both defied our traditionally machismo society.

Both ascended into power by way of people's bloodless revolt.

One reluctantly taken the office but morally obliged. The other hoped-for a sudden twist of luck; having readied the inaugural speech way before the office was declared vacant.

One expressed intention of stepping down, and she did. The other announced on national TV she is stepping down but lied.

One re-established democracy in paper through the 1987 Constitution. The other supports the rape of the said charter.

One had been called by the people to take her oath after a massive electoral fraud by her rival. The other taken her oath after calling an election officer to cover up her rigged votes.

One's voice has been trusted and respected even during her private life. The other's words are like poison if swallowed and that a "private life" will be unlikely in her vocabulary.

One, even to her grave, is still a driving force for people to unite. The other, even in a blunder, is a driving force for people to make a joke.

And a joke is one of the very few things that makes Juan dela Cruz sane in these trying times.

No wonder the recent editorial blunder of Manila Bulletin stands out to be funny rather than solicit outrage from the people. And yes, a sinful thought it may be, I can't help but grin.

Sifting through the blogosphere, majority of the reactions to this photo are leaning towards humour; a stark contrast on public indignation towards Willie Revillame's remarks on Tita Cory's cortege last Wednesday. I know as a Christian this is not a good thing to think and to do, but the social weather suggests how the Filipino people perceive the two woman presidents. It seems that the two are at the opposite ends of a very wide spectrum, and I don't need to elaborate which is situated to which end.

Four years ago, another blunder aroused collectors and jokers alike.

Remember this version of our 100-peso bill that was circulated Christmas of 2005 during the height of the controversy of our current president's legitimacy due to accusations of electoral fraud? The running joke back then was that this proves that even our printing machines cry out illegitimacy. What a good way to have an effective flyer!

In the medieval times, women were considered subordinates to men. And as Marcos put it, "just a woman whose place is in the bedroom." Today, women are regarded as men's equal; majority of world societies, if not all. They are no joke. They are a force to be reckoned with.

At least for Filipinos, one woman president to be remembered with.

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

Witnessing History from the Twentieth Floor

2009-08-03T22:46:00.022+08:00

Maybe I was one of those people who, few hours later, got hold of the ill news; having work-related activity that gloomy Saturday early morning. It was not surprising, really. And I know her family shared the same sentiment since it was a losing battle against cancer.

Tita Cory has died.

But only today did this fact actually sinked in to me. I didn't even know that her remains were to be brought from La Salle Greenhills to Manila Cathedral around noon today--unfortunately, it was news blackout for the sleep-deprived. I walked from my apartment in J.P. Rizal Street and then traversed Makati Avenue going to work this morning; yellow ribbons on every posts and sills along the way. There are people in yellow shirts. There are security details at every corner of Makati CBD. It was raining. It seemed sad and dejected. I was indifferent.

"It is snowing!", a Malaysian colleague called out while, with other people in the office, peering out of the windows. My initial reaction was comical but upon seeing his matter-of-fact face it seemed that it was indeed snowing: flakes of yellow replaced the dampening rains. And with ABS-CBN's DZMM tuned in from a live streaming on one laptop, it became very clear.

Tita Cory is near. She is coming.

I joined the group leaning on the thick hingeless window; after all, we were at the 20th floor. A sea of yellow crowd greeted me from below. As we were waiting, so were they under the scorching sun. It seemed that the sky was in one with the people; rains on a sudden halt. But still open umbrellas can be seen. The person on the PA system desperately asked them to close all umbrellas to no avail. In this country of skin whiteners, this request will surely fall on deaf ears. But as if by providence, an invisible blanket engulfed the sun and the scorching heat joined the rains at bay waiting for one moment to pass. Umbrellas now closed, and then goosebumps.

She is here.

Her flag-draped casket stopped right in front of her late husband's monument at Ayala Avenue corner Paseo de Roxas. Jim Paredes' Handog ng Pilipino sa Mundo can be heard in the air while yellow confetti continued to fall. It was like a warp speed back into history when people eagerly waited for Ninoy. Now, it was the wife-turned-president-turned-icon. I reckon no one in the post-colonial Philippines had received this kind of accolade and reverence from the people aside from Magsaysay and the Aquino couple.

Tita Cory has been called Tita Cory from Day One. Not even the highest office in the land changed that; she was never called President Aquino. I reckon it's because the Filipino people relate to her in close kinship rather than a political figure plastered on glossy posters. That's why she is loved. She may not have put the country back to the economic pedestal it used to stand before Marcos' plunder. She may not have resolved insurgency from the South. She may have been unsuccessful in addressing the problems of the previous regime. But still people at that moment in that intersection of the financial district still gave their sincere respect to so many is the greatest president we had. This is because of the one legacy no post-colonial president had ever done: genuine democracy. She served her purpose of restoring democracy and of smooth transition from revolution to republic. She could have just stayed home and, instead, consoled her grief-stricken children orphaned by a father. She chose not just to be their mother but the mother of a restarting nation. Technically that time she could have ruled by decree for she was both executive and legislative but she refused to be like the tyrant she toppled. She convened the first Constitutional Convention that drafted our present Constitution. She ensured that every democratic mechanisms of a new government are in place before stepping down. Her allies enticed her to seek re-election since the newly instituted term-limit provision of the Constitution does not apply to her. But she stepped down all the same and she exited with grace (choosing to go home in a Toyota Crown rather than in the government's Mercedes); not succumbing to lust for power. Come to think of it, she can be dwarfed by the modern infrastructure Marcos had built. But what stand out are the things that can never be seen.

I stood behind that windowpane at the 20th floor seeing the thing that was not there before, and I was not indifferent anymore. I was suddenly overwhelmed. I know this is history and this is one her-story not meant to be just witnessed from afar.

I know I have to go down, take the nearest elevator and be part of the writing of our story.

***

This was also one of those times that I wished I never had left my DSLR at home. I am meaning to go into photojournalism, and this is one event that can not go without capturing. At least I have my iPhone, my Indian colleague's Canon Powershot SX110 IS and an unobstructed bird's eyeview from the 20th floor.

For the last time, people are drawn to your charisma;

seas of yellow carried you to final rest.

Vox populi,

democracy reflected and defended.

With you standing up as our leader.

He said, the Filipinos are worth dying for.
You said, we are worth living for.
Now, both of you are eternal.

The yellow ribbon will continue to undulate with the winds;

A beacon that lights the path of those
bound to your noble cause -- a nation that is truly free.

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

Backpacking vs. Flashpacking

2009-05-07T22:28:00.004+08:00

I'm on Day 8 of my Indochine backpacking; that is, Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam. I've been to the temples and ruins of Angkor, to the eye-opening Killing Fields, to the hustle and bustle of Saigon and now, the relaxing beaches of Nha Trang; there are so much to see on this side of the planet. Then, I stumbled upon this article on Wikipedia:

Flashpacking is a neologism used to refer to affluent backpacker. Whereas backpacking is traditionally associated with budget travel and destinations that are relatively cheap, flashpacking has an association of more disposable income while traveling and has been defined simply as backpacking with a bigger budget.

A simple definition of the term Flashpacker can be thought of as backpacking with flash, or style. One school of thought defines the flashpacker as a rapidly growing segment of travelers who adhere to a modest accommodation and meal budget, while spending freely, even excessively, for activities at their chosen destination. Another school of thought defines flashpacking as an incongruous mix of 'slumming it' and luxury; of adventurous travel with those on a budget by day and sedate dining and comfortable accommodation by night. Flashpackers have been further defined as tech-savvy adventurers who often prefer to travel with a cell phone, digital camera, iPod and a laptop, although none of these is required in order to be a flashpacker. As with other forms of travel, the term flashpacker is mainly one of self-identification. The origin of the term itself is obscure.

The term also reflects a growing demographic of travelers who are forsaking traditional organized travel, venturing to destinations once the reserve of more adventurous backpackers, and the increasing number of individuals who leave well paid jobs or take 'career breaks', using the time to travel independently, but with greater comfort and many of the gadgets they are accustomed to at home. As a result, hostels are evolving and offering more up-market accommodation to those still traveling on a budget in order to obtain their business. The hostels have realized a need to evolve in order to meet the changing demands of travelers.

Time to be accustomed with this neology from now on; onward with my flashpacking. :)

GMT +7 Hanoi, Vietnam

Reflections on Lent

2009-04-10T23:36:00.000+08:00

Having studied in a Catholic school from pre-school to high school (oh, even College!), I practically grew up with the Paschal Mystery (Passion, Death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ) at the back of my head. Long have I reflected that this is beyond the syllabus of a Religion Class; this is my calling, our calling as Christians. It has been an on-and-off realization for me; only rekindling in this season of Lent. Maybe because there are not much to do or much to see on the boob tube or maybe because of the numerous Sinakulos on Good Friday. But whatever happens–I might stray away from this–I know that He will always be open-arms to a repenting son.

And that is basically the reason He died, so that we may be born again from the ashes of the past.

____________________________________________________________

Special thanks to the youth of San Roque Parish (San Pablo City, Laguna)
for their dedication on this year's Sinakulo where these photos are taken.
More photos on my Multiply Photo Album.

GMT +8 Manila, Philippines

Backpacking a Möbius Strip

2009-03-17T11:13:00.000+08:00

One of the things I want to do is to backpack; be it alone or in a group. I don't mind walking with a load on my back. I don't mind the sun; I'm dark-skinned anyway. I don't mind being lost; a sense of fulfillment when finding the way is inviting. Not to mention the adventure I can get especially in an unfamiliar place. I plan to backpack Europe before I die or before I get married (whichever comes first) prefering to be alone at first and then meet some fellow backpackers on the way. But then, I have to save up "big-time" for this adventure. Anyway, I don't think the Angel of Death nor Cupid is scheduled to arrive at my doorstep yet so I still have time. I just hope Cupid is faster but not too fast. :)

And then I stumble upon this article about Robert Alejandro (one of the hosts of The Probe Team) and his adventure across Southeast Asia. With a gel pen and a paper, he did sketches of the things he encountered and of the people he met. Nine countries. A tight Php 50,000 budget. Ten weeks. Interweaved cultures. Sights, sounds and aroma. Priceless memories. All of these in his illustrated book for us to be inspired. I have.

The Sketching Backpacker, a tome collecting the artist’s vivid journal entries while trekking with friends, is also a handy companion to travelers who wish to discover the region’s scenic destinations, historic landmarks, and unique bargains.

Available at Travel Club stores.

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

Friggatriskaidekaphobia

2009-03-13T21:45:00.001+08:00

Frigga
in Norse mythology, the goddess of love and fertility but then banished as a witch; Friday was named after her

tris
Greek for "three" (3)

kai
Greek for "and"

deka
Greek for "ten" (10)

phobia
from the Greek phóbos, "fear"

We have Friday The 13th thrice this year! One we had last February. Of course, today. The other would be in November. I personally don't know of anyone who is mortally afraid of Friday The 13th. If this kind of phobia has a declining rate in recent years, that I'm not sure of. But then, most of the living souls today believe in luck and all of them wouldn't like to meet the bad one. Who would? However, too much dependence on this belief breeds fear.

Do you want to enjoy life or what? :-)

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

A Game of Monopoly

2009-03-12T20:43:00.000+08:00

It's been a tough year for the richest people in the world.
Last year there were 1,125 billionaires.
This year there are just 793 people rich enough to make our list.
The world has become a wealth wasteland... [Read on Forbes.com]

Really? And we're supposed to empathize with them? As far as I know, the world has been a wealth wasteland from the day man started to gauge his existence on the mound of gold under his feet. Sadly, only a few can amass an Everest.

When I wrote one blog on the onset of the financial crisis, I thought that the world can go on bankrupt; afterall it was the common term one can hear over the news back then. I thought the money went up in smoke. I stand corrected. A friend of mine dropped a comment on that blog:

"Dude search and download for Zeitgeist and Zeitgeist Addendum on the torrent sites. That will explain where the money went. Wealth is never lost, it just get transferred to a few people who control the world's economy."

Haven't watched those downloads though; I'll save them for later, and maybe for another blog. But interesting to note is the fact that the wealth of the world is still in the hands of these few people. The news on the fall of AIG didn't solicited empathy for long when its top executives went on celebrating with a lavish party of champagne and caviar at the posh St. Regis Monarch Beach Resort in Southern California, just 2 weeks after US taxpayers bailed out the insurance corporation for $85 billion. It's funny to think–and you don't see me laughing–that Forbes is saying that the world's richest are also a lot poorer. Well, technically they are indeed poorer with the topnotcher Bill Gates' fortune from $40 Billion down to $18 Billion; more than 50% loss. Indeed it's a different and lofty bar and you'll see the rest of the world gazing at the stars, driveling. But most of them, starving. Yes, 50% loss is a lot. So what if Gates lost this amount of money? Maybe those people in the financial institutions that knows how this works might argue that in having a sound business or a healthy economy, one should not have losses in his account books. They might have a point. But then, really, will Gates be unable to pay his bill after he lost that amount? Will he die of starvation? Maybe he can die of depression, but that would be foolish. Now imagine a homeless man with less than a dollar in his pocket and 50% of it is lost, he has been depressed all his life and the only thing that separates him from an impending demise is the will to live; a will that can't be sustained for long with an empty stomach.

Social and economic inequality has been here since time immemorial. Well maybe after the fall of man from the Garden of Eden. And I don't think I can see Utopia in my lifetime. It will be hard for mankind to realize this perfect world where society's central role is played not by money, but rather by the need for transcendence. The world is not fair as we know it today, and it is a reality that greets me every morning on my way to work here in Ghana. I came to this African country as a consultant yet there are a lot of Ghanaians that can be educated to do the same things I do in my work. But I see them in the streets instead. If those Forbes' richest have the monopoly on the world's wealth, I reckon I'm part of a group that has a monopoly on one of the opportunities that can give a better life. Especially now that the world is on recession, companies abroad are somewhat picky on people they hire as expatriates; taking those with more experience. I bet there are lots of monopolies out there. One faction may be covetous of the other's monopoly and the others may go on envying everyone. I envy Bill Gates but envy is a sin.

Monopolies will not last forever; the game has to be over soon.

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

Dot-dot-dot

2009-03-07T17:51:00.000+08:00

For these past weeks–accumulating to a month actually–I had a hard time updating this blog. Project-end workload. Intermittent Wi-Fi in my flat (this one pisses me off). But mainly because I don't have any inspiring, or say worthwhile, subject that merits my "non-work" time. I better have sleep instead (no more vivid dreams). There are some instances, however, that I tried starting an entry yet nothing. It came to a point that for the sake of having a February entry, I attempted to post:

...

But I thought it's a waste of bytes.

Yet most of the time, in this age of instant messaging (i.e. chat and SMS), this symbol can say a lot more than a paragraph. Intended to denote either an intentional omission of a word or a phrase from the original text or to indicate a pause in speech, an unfinished thought or, at the end of a sentence, a trailing off into silence [wikipedia], ellipsis has become one of the staple typographical constructions in chat rooms and SMS. One can either use the standard three dots (MS Word ensures this when it auto-corrects) or an extended version of up to dozens of dots (it depends on the mood). Sometimes I think people overuse this. But then again, most conversations are not meant to be ended with a single dot. The question now is how to keep it going; not necessarily by words.

One should read between the lines but sometimes, it is better to act beyond the dots.

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

Take A Break, Have A Coke

2009-01-26T22:41:00.000+08:00

Not that I harbour diabetes but I must admit Coca-Cola never fails to establish itself by launching campaign TVCs; boob tube not so boo boo afterall. It was not so long ago, about 2004, when most of Filipinos were enchanted by this young girl and her knapsack that "magically" dispenses unlimited supply of Coke bottles (kinda reminds me of Mary Poppins). Not to mention that song that made me slow down, stop at this very moment and say to myself: "Pre, take it easy."

As a kid I had this notion that a Coke bottle on a dining table is for special occasions or whenever our family is on a festive mood; always looking forward to that Sunday lunch, the whole family sitting together and one Litro of Coke. That's why I find the idea of giving out Coke as a way of saying "hello" nostalgic. It is also a symbolic gesture of reminding us to take a break and, of course with this TVC, have a refreshing drink. Good advertising eh? But then, it did not escaped me to notice that the whole TVC is a tapestry of Filipinos and the different facets of their everyday lives: middle-class work, religion (one can see a Muslim and a typical elderly Christian), relationships (lovers' quarrel), manual labor, education, adolescence and childhood. All of these in one flawless, continuous shot; the details and texture of downtown Manila perfectly recreated. I am impressed with Thierry Notz for the direction (he made the same with McDo's Karen & Lolo TVC). I believe he surpassed other versions of this global ad campaign of Coca-Cola. Though not Filipino himself, he sure knows the way to a Filipino's heart.

Here are the other versions (North and Latin American's) of the global ad campaign. Notice how they are very much alike from the street corner-turning to a man in the garbage bin and from that scooter to that parked car.

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

Another Coca-Cola TVC. This time on the best "pick-up line" ever. :)

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

On Side-effects and Vivid Dreams

2009-01-24T21:42:00.000+08:00

This is the last night of my 3-day treatment on Malaria, and I'm still a bit of unsure whether I have one in the first place. My lab test result, afterall, yielded negative infection from any of the Plasmodium parasites but the doctor prescribed the treatment nevertheless. Tomorrow I will be starting the prophylaxis; the one thing I should have done before coming here. It would be a weekly regimen; a regimen also shared by soldiers on a mission and peace corps. I have been sifting through the internet on some experiences when one is taking antimalarial and there is one thing in common: side-effects. Well I guess most of the modern world medications have side-effects. I remember this joke of a salesman who offered a man a drug to relieve the latter's headache but the salesman warned that it has a side-effect in which it will be relieved by another drug yet with a side-effect of its own. The story goes on with drugs and their side-effects only to find out that the last drug offered has headache as the side-effect. Funny because one of Malaria's symptoms is headache and so as one of Coartem's side-effects. Now I can't tell which is which. Interestingly one of antimalarial side-effects is vivid dreams. I thought it's a Neverland-Care Bears sort of thing but apparently it is a euphemism to nightmares. As per my research, it is exclusively valid to antimalarial with Mefloquine as the base drug (i.e. Lariam; Roche don't sue me, this is a personal blog). So I frantically drew the one I have. Pyrimethamine. Ok, the only side-effect I have to worry now is being folic acid deficient. But then, last night I had this "vivid dream".

There was this one "crazy" black dog that used to be part of my childhood phobia. I well remember her name, Blanka. She was one of our neighbor's dogs and it was a great effort everytime I have to bring a share of our media noche to their house. I would call out my kababata to escort me inside their house; it would be rude if I don't personally give the food and of course it's a tradition for them to give something in return. I don't know where it all started but I remember her to be the one who rallied up all the dogs in the subdivision to madly chase me to exhaustion; virtually strapping me to a coconut tree. Imagine the humiliation and trauma of a seven-year-old. I used to believe that she was the leader of the dog mafia in our subdivision back then so in order to save my bones, I have to avoid her. And believe me, during that time I could recognize her bark anywhere. She died when I was in high school. Poor creature but I thought it saved my adolescent years. But then last night she was reincarnated: same black hair, menacing eyes and those canine fangs! Weird enough, I was back to the same street of that fateful day. Everything was fast. One second she was on the far-side of the street, the next she was right in front of me. And she bit my left hand! I awoke. I don't know if I gave a loud cry but one thing I did was to check my left hand if it was still there. I felt the bite as if it was real; as if it was torn away from the rest of my arm. How vivid can you get with that? Maybe it was just a coincidence that I got that nightmare. I'm not taking Mefloquine and I checked the ones I'm taking and they definitely don't have vivid dreams as part of the undesirable list.

I don't know what I'll be getting tonight but I hope it has nothing to do with leeches!

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

I came across this short film on current.com:

After years of yearning to go to Africa, Joan’s three-month stint as a Peace Corps volunteer turns sour on Christmas Eve when she is 'psychevac'd' back to the states and admitted to Georgetown Hospital mental ward. The drug required by the Peace Corps to be taken as a protection against malaria is said to cause only vivid dreams, but no one mentions the other side effects of psychotic tendencies, including suicide and murder.

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

Meeting Malaria

2009-01-22T20:16:00.000+08:00

And that's the last thing I want to while I'm here in Africa.

Well there's no one to blame but me. Knowing that Malaria is endemic here, I should have taken prophylactic measure before going. I had my first blood test taken last month and it turned out to be negative. It was a relief. I even attempted to laminate the test result. Then I started to think that I am just being paranoid; maybe fatigue is due to overwork and chills is due to aircon running overnight. Plus the fact that I learned later that one Pinay died after going home. If I were in the Philippines, flu-like symptoms might just be a flu. But being in Sub-Saharan Africa one can not just dismiss the fact that this might be something else. It was since last weekend that I again feel exhausted and dizzy. Even sleeping a significant amount of hours on a Sunday didn't take away the discomfort. Though I will always think of Malaria, the lab test seems to be a psychological treatment; looking on a "No malaria parasites seen" statement alleviates worries. So I said to myself that I will just observe. Lab test doesn't come cheap. Then last Tuesday early morning I was waken and found myself shivering with some abdominal pain. I could feel twitches on some parts of my body. It was like some kind of Gremlin trying to get out of my muscles (if you watched the movie, you get the point). And I was palpitating (no Starbucks planner in Africa, take note). Not to mention my head in twice the gravity pull and my urge to throw up. You might want to laugh at me but at that point I unlocked the door of my room in case I might not wake up later that day; we have a household help that regularly cleans the room by the way. There were no life moments flashing before my eyes so it was no "time's up" for me then. But it was an hour or so of pangs, delusional or not. I managed to go back to sleep though; waken later by the alarm on my mobile. No more pain. The hot shower seemed to washed away a bad dream. But then I decided to have myself checked again. If before I went to a clinic in a mall, this time I went to a hospital just to make sure I am getting the right diagnosis.

The result? No parasites found. Ok, it was a relief again. But there was a catch. My white blood cells (WBC) count is nearing the higher mark for normal. Learning from my high school Biology, WBC is like my inner army against invaders; in this case, the Plasmodium parasite. Yes, malaria is not caused by a virus or strain of bacteria; it is caused by a parasite (I guess Malacanang can be diagnosed with malaria on its highest stage). The doctor said that this is an indication that something's going on inside me since the immune system is preparing for a battle. To be honest, I was a little skeptical on that diagnosis. But the symptoms are just hard to ignore. Maybe the parasites haven't been released to the blood to infect the red blood cells. You see, malaria in humans develops via two phases: it infects the liver first where they multiply for up to 15 days then they all go swimming in the blood stream. If left untreated, it will result to severe complications. And we have the ever-charming female mosquitos to thank for. So the doctor prescribed me a "treatment" drug. As per its leaflet, the drug is "a treatment for adults, children and infants with acute, uncomplicated infections due to P. falciparum." WTF! P. falciparum is said to be the most fatal and I am having a drug for that??! But then, this specie of Plasmodium parasite is still curable and I thanked God that I am having it (maybe) on its earliest stage. Of all the prescriptions I got so far in my life, this has been the one I really strictly followed: 4 tablets on the first take then 4 tablets 8 hours later (I have to wake up early for this; the thing I failed on other prescriptions). Then 4 tablets twice a day for the succeeding days (it means every 12 hours). The key for effective treatment is proper absorption of the dose so I need food intake first and it is recommended to intake food or drink rich in fat such as milk. If I really do have those bastard parasites I need to eradicate them once and for all. But it comes with side-effects like anorexia (me and less appetite?), sleep disorders, dizziness and cough. Just today I had a half-day work and making myself concentrate on those figures and numbers on my computer screen was great effort. Well, rather than go home in a wooden box.

So, for my fellow travelers heed my advice: have the necessary precautions when going to places where malaria is endemic. There is no vaccine developed so far but as per medical advice, take antimalarial drugs 1 week before the travel, continue the regimen while in a risk area and end the treatment one or more weeks after leaving the area. Malaria is present in Asia, Sub-Saharan Africa, Central and South America, the Caribbean, the Middle East and parts of Eastern Europe. Note, however, that these drugs will not prevent the parasites from entering the body but do prevent or supress the symptoms caused by the parasites. Afterall, they are parasites. That is the main reason why prevention by controlling, if not eliminating, is a major concern for those countries that are endemic. It means a war on mosquitos. I bet these pesky insects are contemplating in a Purpose Driven Life sort of way.

Note also that not all drugs are effective on a certain endemic area so one should consult with a physician on what drug is best suited for the travel plan. These parasites are part of the animal kingdom and they evolve; later being resistant to most of antimalarials in the market. In the Sub-Saharan Africa P. falciparum is the most common. The physician prescribed me Coartem (by Novartis; generic name: artemether-lumefantrin) for the treatment then Daraprim (by GlaxoSmithKline; generic name: pyrimethamine) for prophylaxis. So I guess these are the antimalarial drugs suited for this area. Moreso, one can use repellants when going out. Mosquitos always have feeding frenzy during dusk and dawn. So watch out!

Meeting malaria is serious but is not a reason for panic. Hey, even HIV can be treated on its early stage (though in our society, accepting that one has HIV is a different story). Malaria is both preventable and curable. Sad to say but there are still millions of people, mostly children, die because of this. My consultation, lab test and medications cost me about USD65. Lucky for me I have this to spare (there's a probability that I can even reimburse this thru my medical insurance). How about those who have none; barely making USD2 per day? In the news, the conflict-stricken Zimbabwe is nearing a Malaria outbreak on top of the worsening cholera and HIV. Prevention fails when tools for it are out of reach. We can help: http://www.fightingmalaria.org/.

After this treatment, I should start prophylaxis so as to prevent future infections. It means that when I come home the month after next I should continue taking antimalarial agent for 4 weeks just to be sure. That was the unfortunate lapse of that Pinay who died because of malaria – shrugging off the eventuality.

It will always hold true that prevention is better than cure, and that was my own lapse.

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

Seventh Heaven Co.

2009-01-18T14:47:00.000+08:00

For the Jewish, Muslim and other cabalist system, seventh heaven is the farthest of the concentric spheres containing the stars and constituting the dwelling place of God and the angels. It became synonymous to a state of great joy and satisfaction; a bliss, cloud nine and euphoria.

And it was no coincidence that this was once an idea not only for a business venture but the next level of friendship.

I've written my last blog in response to a photo of 7 people who tried to make "a better life" without even going abroad (though we are all planning to anyway). I'm re-archiving files in my laptop last night and there it was as colorful as before; clouds behind our backs. Then today Joya prompted me in YM and it was she who reminded me of this small group of entrepreneurs-to-be. It was a night after work on the last day of August 2007. We had this business idea and Heaven N' Eggs served as our place of brainstorming. Well actually we tried to get some ideas there. Too bad that resto in Glorietta 4 was renovated to a new layout.

Joya was right, that night was already a sign. We had different shades of shirts, and on the walls were clouds and famous landmarks around the world (Eiffel Tower, Leaning Tower of Pisa, Holland Windmills etc.). Sure enough, a week after one of us left. Every month after that one would follow. Come December 2007 when only 4 of us were remaining, maybe with a stroke of fate, we found ourselves aboard on one of the last flights of the year. Today we are now scattered all around the globe, spanning the continents. Indeed, looking on this photo makes me miss the good ol' days and wonder when will this exact pose is going to be reprised. I will look forward to that day.

It was a business meeting so I didn't detailed what had transpired.

But I know someday a new company is likely to rise; clouds behind its back.

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

For A Better Life

2009-01-17T22:00:00.000+08:00

One year ago, when the world was on a countdown, I was there sitting up in the night sky. While the world danced and sang merriments, I was there strapped in the rigidity of my seat. While the world was spellbound by fireworks, I was there confined and confounded. There was mixture of feelings, and with the high altitude pressure it became an unrecognizable concoction. For any neophyte Pinoy expatriate that would just be a temporary anxiety that is soon comforted by the very reason of taking that very first flight away from home: for a better life.

I am now part of the ever-growing diaspora of Filipinos; seeking better opportunities in places where they are strangers. It has been a year already yet the events leading to where I am now are as vivid as today. This has not been part of my plan actually. The plan was to establish myself in a local company and make myself all the way to the top. I guess this is what most fresh graduates would dream of achieving. Afterall, it's one hell of a package: money, entitlement and power. Wow! I could have sold my soul to the devil. But then I realized that the place on top seems like an exclusive club where members got into either by hard work or by other means. Moreso, one can't really be sure that having a view from the top is having a view of a better life. This realization might have been brought by an opportunity I didn't expect to come; an opportunity I discovered when I entered Globe Telecom (GT). It is an opportunity that I find difficult to explain to most of the people who ask about it, but then I found easy to be identified with the closest of my GT friends. We call ourselves FABL-ers: driven by one goal and the acronym says it all. We don't just exchange CVs and technical reference materials; we exchange personal stories. We don't just reveal new job positions abroad; we reveal secrets with one another. We laughed a lot in and out of the office, but most of the time inside when we're burned out with work. We had our share of dramatic moments, then back to laughing again (yes, that can be normal). Dinner outs. Movie trips. Out-of-towns. Sleep-overs. Road trips. Yosi breaks. 5th floor. Coffee sessions. Untill it was hard to say goodbye. One by one we left our desks. One farewell video presentation (a bit of a tradition) and a dinner, and we were one less of a count. It may be emotional but we always say to ourselves: "Magkikita-kita rin sa finals.". Soon enough, some of us met in Brasil but I bet it's still not the "finals" we're referring to. It is hard to leave the place one has been for the longest of time. Not only that I left my family and friends, I also left behind habits and comforts. For some, a better life resides on other lands. Personally I can still find my better life back home. Some FABL-ers found theirs. I will, soon. But hey, being with these guys is a glimpse of that afterall.

It kept me thinking: how would a better life looks and feels like? Would it be a significant amount in the bank account? Would it be land titles and cars? Would it be a family of my own? Yes, how would I gauge "better"? I guess I will soon find out. It's just that now I believe that the path I am taking would eventually lead me there. Maybe because I'm now able to do some things that I might not have done when I chose to stay. You see the word "better" begets an onward action; it makes me seek what lies ahead. In this temporal world we're living in, it can be a rollercoaster ride, and that's life where tomorrows will most of the time... better.

So why not just go for the best life?

Why would I? I'm still enjoying my stay; still preparing the way for the inevitable.

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

On Power, Federalism and One Incident on a Tee

2008-12-30T22:00:00.000+08:00

This can't go un-blogged before the year ends. I'll be expecting a surge in workload come 2009 and my thoughts on the above subject might just swish away. Unless I go home early due to the current political turmoil here.

Going back to that incident in a golf course involving a middle-class family and a notorious political clan in Mindanao, it made me think again the idea of federalising the Philippines. I personally am an advocate of federalism. On paper, it is best suited on a nation where regional and ethnic identity seem to create unofficial boundary within. Sen. Aquilino Pimentel's proposed framework is deemed fitting; for instance, a Luzon with states to Kapampangans, Tagalogs, Ifugaos, Ilocanos and Bicolanos. Moreover, it will bring an end to the Imperial Manila that deeply centralized everything in the country. No more going to the metro just to get paperworks you need in proving your existence. No more LGUs (Local Government Unit: Governor down to Barangay Chairman) that are like dogs waiting for scraps from his master's table.

But then again, decentralising power to states might just make power centralised to the ruling clan in that region. As MLQ3 pointed out, the warlord culture of the provinces is prevalent to this day. Mention a province and one can tell a Family Name attributed to it, nay, ruling it. Moreover, it is proper to quote his opinion on the recent incident:

So we have here a clear clash of civilizations: between the entitlement and warlord culture of the provinces, which compels obedience by force, and which doesn’t hesitate to use that force to compel submission by anyone who isn’t part of the ruling clan’s pecking order of enforcers; and the national capital culture which expects self-control of officialdom, which doesn’t think twice about standing up to official bullying; which, even if beaten to a pulp thinks it’s possible to rally support from like-minded people who actually believe in justice and notions of equality -because there are more decent people than the bad.

So here is where it all collapse; I mean my optimism to a federalised Philippines. I bet there are a lot of this kind of incident in the provinces but of course it wouldn't make it out and make a fuss such as this one. The mayor involved in the incident who imposed a Hindi-mo-ba-ako-kilala? threat reminds me of a feudal relationship between a peasant and his landlord; a picturesque of a future feudal state here where the only difference is that we own the land. Having to create state laws with these warlords on the pen is like having a death sentence written for us. Having to control the flow of taxpayers' money with autonomy given to these thugs is like having to invest in a scam; from GMA to little GMAs (Gremlins anyone?). And giving the power to the states is synonymous to making the gods more than gods.

Would there be anything higher than a god? Only the devil knows.

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

Spectator in Ghanaian Election of 2008

2008-12-30T13:21:00.000+08:00

Election in December? End of the year? I remember Anthony (my driver) lamented that this year's Christmas season has been overshadowed by their presidential election – imagine that happening back home. And I could empathize with him seeing campaign materials more than the usual holiday decorations and hearing bickerings over the airwaves instead of inspirational messages on the season's spirit. What's more interesting is the way they do the elections. There is a semi-finals then the finals. First week of December witnessed the first round of 5 presidentiables. Their constitution mandates that a president-elect should have 50%+1 of the total votes. As with our presidential elections, having so many candidates results to fragmented vote blocs; it was not surprising that in that round no one mustered the required number of votes to emerge as the victor. But the law also mandates that who ever got the top 2 spots on the first round shall qualify to the finals. Parang game lang. And that round went on last Sunday. I know because no Masses celebrated that day.

One good thing that I personally see with the Ghanaians as politically mature (maybe I'm just using a very strong description but something like it anyway) is their way of affiliating and identfying themselves with a political party. The question "What is your party?" is common here. They have the local versions of Democrats and Republican. There are also those you can call third parties. You can't hear them say that they will vote for this person or for that. It's usually this party and that. As for me, I don't know who I am with. Back home the game is about who throws a party and who's invited. But I have to check out this Kapatiran Party and see if I can start identifying myself to one (this would be for a future blog.)

"I will vote for the administration because I want continuity."

"I will vote for the opposition because I want change."

And you can hear these on any Ghanaian you meet on the street. Ok, if I were to pass through EDSA and ask whom to vote in 2010 (God forbids GMA's Cha-Cha) and why, I wonder what will the responses be? I can only wonder but with hope. Yes, we have our own versions of the administration and the opposition but we also have those political butterflies. Unfortunately, there are still some Pinoys who seem enthralled by the colorful wings of these bugs (no offense to butterflies).

But then, violence seems to mar any elections around; maybe, except classroom elections where classmates are friends. This vehemence seems to negate the abovementioned positivity. Apparently, the administration has lost footing in this year's election (second round). They say that in the first round they have the highest number of votes and now perplexed as to how numbers shifted away from them. Ah, the usual I-have-been-cheated mantra; and I thought it's only in the Philippines. I opined that maybe after Christmas Ghanaians had a change of heart with the Star of Bethlehem guiding them. Then I got some stern looks from the pro-administration that were in the same room. I should have just shut up. Learning from this, never give a political insight (even if said in jest) in a hostile environment; not to mention, foreign. You'll never know who's on the other side. But at least I just got frowns. Outside it's a different story. People are starting to mobilize; a looming clash between the two major political parties, between administration and opposition who usually get the top votes on the first round. And heaven knows what form of "clash" we are talking about. People in the office (yes, they were my only source of news outside) said that this Friday (walang New Year New Year dito) would be the height of this tensed period; one city is to cast its postponed vote and their number shall serve as a crucial arbiter of the warring sides. All Ghanaian eyes are now fixed to them. I might not witness fireworks this new year but I can expect either fires or works. I'd rather think not.

The management of the company I'm working with released a memo for early dismissal of their employees. Why was it so familiar? Ah, the Manila Peninsula seige by Trillanes et. al. in Makati a year ago. Globe Telecom issued a memo of the same kind back then and we went out straight to watch a movie in G4. Apathy? Maybe. But it was like a here-we-go-again moment that made an Andres Bonifacio falter inside me.

For Ericsson consultants, however, we stayed for work. We saw it as an opportunity to lengthen deadlines. Local employees started to stir an agitated environment yet in the middle of the commotion someone joked of airport being closed down; a direct gag on most of us expatriates in the office. Had I been anxious? No actually. Maybe because of that joke. I don't know. I am more concerned with the progress of our project though. And what else can I do? My flat is just a block away from the office. If someone would detonate an explosive it would be within the same radius. Nah, this is just too extreme to be reckon with.

Maybe they all just want to go home.

Maybe jealous of the 11-day holiday back home.

No, wait, that would be me.

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

Becoming Power

2008-12-29T19:40:00.000+08:00

"Power does not corrupt men; fools, however,

if they get into a position of power, corrupt power. "
George Bernard Shaw

One of the greatest legacy of modern civilization is government. May it be authoritarian or democratic, it places society into order. It is definitely preferred over anarchy. As Thomas Hobbes put it, we as rational animals tend to submit in an entity that embodies sovereignty for the purpose of order. And as pluralistic as we are, we cannot deny the fact that there should only be one who would have a final say on things, or else we go on forever squabbling. That is the ingenuity of it all: giving part of our freedom to the government so that we can live freely in peace and order.

And it is power.

Fools in our government misses this point. Yes, we have given them the power yet order, let alone peace, has not been in the same ascent. I reckon it is inverse proportional: as the politician's power increases, people's freedom decreases. The recent incident involving a cabinet member and his mayor son is an addition to the "power play" that has been plaguing my country. I used to believe that power corrupts. This is the reason I will never throw a hat on the political ring. But then, power is an abstract concept that will take form (either good or evil) depending on who embraces it. Why do you think there are lots of politicians vying for power? Personally, I believe there is a self-serving reason to start with. Usually you don't find those who have the passion and the real concern for the people and the country in the government. They are there on the grassroots – people in NGOs, non-profit foundations and community groups. They are not there on the same pedestal as these self-proclaimed gods or under the same spotlight as these buffoons. Most of them have personal problems of their own; barely making both ends meet. Yet they are there. They are there because they believe that they have the power to make a difference.

I initially intend to write this entry as a latest addition to the lashing out by the blogosphere to the appalling incident. I intend to name names and call them names. Afterall, in this digital age where SMS/text can bring down a president, a blogger has the power to stimulate minds; the blogosphere the power to spark a revolution. But then I realised anger is an impulsive response to a negative stimulus. The first time I read the news in the Inquirer I got infuriated. Even with a report deadline I suddenly stopped working and went on clicking every links there are. Any news on any folly by a politician is as sensitive as poking my head with a stick, nay, hit by it to contusion. But as I said I have the power and, also, the intension of not corrupting it by hate or anger. I will just be as fool as they are if I did. Not that I denounce those blogs that tend to lean to the idea that a curse can kill, but I personally believe that this will just be a replication of corruption; this time to the power of a blogger. Lots of bloggers, nonetheless, have re-posted the blog entry of one of the aggrieved (i.e. with lesser power than the gods) and it spread like wildfire. Everyone knows the incident and takes time to check on updates over the news. Hey it even reached me here in Africa. The power of information reaffirms itself. The power to get justice not only for the de la Paz' but for every Juan de la Cruz now comes through a high-speed highway. The power is ours to change the country, then the world.

As long as we stay not fools.

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

A Day Spent on Christmas

2008-12-25T19:09:00.000+08:00

I was waken not by the alarm set on my mobile but by the missed call from my driver Anthony. He was already on the compound to pick me up as discussed the night before. Apparently the exhausting workdays had taken their toll and my body just won't let go of the comforting slumber. Realising that I only have 10 minutes to get spruced up, I jumped to my feet; the warm water washing all traces of laziness. For a person who usually spend 30 minutes in the shower, this is a feat. With a hair still damp I got into the car; "Merry Christmas, Anthony."

The car passed the usual heavy traffic-stricken road (still not familiar with the names since going around Accra always involves Anthony and his Chevy). The scenario, however, is somewhat different. It maybe due to the fact that I usually pass this road on a rush hour (yes, Africa has a fair share of this urban mayhem). Or maybe because I usually pass this road at night when I want to replenish my week's supply of survival from the nearest grocery. The scenario is different. The sun is up. A handful of vehicles (quite the opposite of Manila's holiday frenzy). I can see green and blue. And I can make out the peddlers' faces that seem to be on camouflage at dark. Apples, chocolates and other street delicacies tapped on the window waiting to be bought. But aside from these, smiles and St. Nick's hats were there on the other side. Like them I know I have to survive; at least emotionally. I felt lucky still. I don't have to endure the Sub-Saharan outdoors. But the smiles were there and there is a reason to smile about.

The Christ The King Church is about 20 minutes from my flat. I am still blessed because I can celebrate this day with the community. Imagine if I'm still in Georgia where there is only one Catholic Church and I live 400 kilometers from it. Imagine if I'm still in Brasil and have to nose-bleed hearing a Portuguese Mass. The Mass here is in English and there is somewhat Lion King-ishness with the music they sing and dance to. Maybe because of the drums. Maybe because of the way they sing. Maybe because of the claps and hand-raising. And it was infectious. Then there were the smiles again. It was a two-hour celebration; mostly singing. Towards the end there was a small presentation from the kids from Sunday School and it reminded me how people attribute Christmas to children. Indeed, we all need to be children again; without the world's corruption, without worldly burdens. Just children.

I thanked Anthony as he brought me back to the compound. I know he has his family to be with. As for me, I still have the rest of the day to spend. Several SMS's and YM messages/greetings (friends, thank you!). A bowl of spaghetti I prepared myself and sharing it with some of the Pinoys left here. A nap to fill some hours of deprived sleep. A movie I intend to watch weeks before. And then this blog.

So it has been a day.

Not fancy actually.

Like I said, it will just be me.

But you know what stands out from the things I did?

His two-hour birthday party.

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

Christmas in Africa

2008-12-24T20:39:00.000+08:00

No Pinoy Christmas for me this year.

No puto bumbong or queso de bola.

No dancing lights or parol hanging by the window.

Tonight it's just me.

Tomorrow I'll wake up to a Christmas morning greeted by the African sun.

So much for a white Christmas eh?

Yeah, seems lame; being alone and all on Christmas day. But I will not feel sorry for myself. I chose this in the first place. Anyway, it will just be my first Christmas away from home. Everyone has his firsts. Besides, celebrating Christmas here is not that bad. I will be going to a morning mass which I believe is the one thing that will complete the day the world awaits. Afterall, Christmas is Christ's birthday. Ghana has 41% Christians so Christmas is a national holiday here; meaning I don't have to go to work tomorrow. It's better than being in an Arab country; better than not having a Christmas day off at all.

But of course, I must admit that nothing compares to a Pinoy Christmas. Being here in Africa makes me numb to the usual Christmas spirit that used to rouse me as the days enter the "BER" months. Then just now I realised that the thing I misses back home is the tradition. And when you take that tradition out, Christmas will still be there. It will surely feel different but Christ remains. Sometimes I think traditions outdo the very meaning and spirit they represent. For instance, people are too preoccupied with how to manage all gifts for friends, relatives and inaanak that they forget to stop and greet that baby who brought salvation to all of us.

Tonight it's just me.

Tomorrow, I'll be making the best out of the day.

Tomorrow it will be me and the birthday celebrant.

Happy Christmas! :)

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

Hiatus...

2008-12-23T17:23:00.000+08:00

... is over; from blogging, that is.

It has been over a month. Lots of things had happened. Lots of thoughts and ideas that failed to come into writing. The day I left Brasil I know that my blogging endeavor has entered a hiatus.

hi·a·tus
n. pl. hi·a·tus·es or hiatus
A gap or interruption in space, time, or continuity; a break (http://www.thefreedictionary.com)

The word seems hifalutin; maybe because most of the Latin words or phrases adopted verbatim by the English language have this sort of grandeur as with their former empire. I even have to "google" it when I first encountered the term in the height of my TV series following (yes, an episode is ready for download the night it aired). Then I became less fond of the word ever since; at least the meaning it applies to my engrossing TV series – having to wait for a month after a cliffhanging episode of Smallville or Heroes! US TV stations usually implement a hiatus for their programs for the sheer purpose of running it longer or to make avid audiences hooked to future episodes/seasons or it's way of evaluating ratings before totally cancelling the show.

Well, hiatus is not bad when in the context of corporate slavery; actually it is in the same pedestal with that of annual bonus and Christmas party. Sometimes, unfortunately, it is next to impossible.

All of us will definitely undergo hiatuses in our lives. We even have hiatuses in our daily lives. They can be forced or they can be planned. They can be desirable or they can be disastrous. It all depends on how we go through with our lives. Of course, everyone needs to have hiatus from the things they are tired of doing because they are simply tired. But then, hiatus from the things they love doing is a different story. There might be some valid reasons. Of course why would I want to stop when I am enjoying. I don't think I can even have that thought in the middle of it all. Yet somehow the universe has its ways of conspiring with itself; an unexpected force that will slow me down to a full stop.

And then, hiatus.

I now understand that this is a natural human cycle; a part of God's grand design. It gives me a chance to re-evaluate life. If the hiatus is due to exhaustion then I might consider doing different things. If the hiatus, on the other hand, just gives me a reason to continue on, then I live the old life yet another day. And then I just realised that a hiatus may also open doors to new things aside from those that I love. Not most people can juggle all balls with one hand so the hiatus becomes a turning point, a crossroad. One thing is certain: no wrong choices; only opportunities. Afterall, we have a lot of hiatuses to last a lifetime.

My archive will definitely regret the fact that November 2008 will never be part of its index. But I don't regret the hiatus that just passed.

It just made me continue writing.

GMT 0 Accra, Ghana

Traversing SLEX

2008-10-21T10:14:00.000+08:00

SLEX. South Luzon EXpressway. This major Philippine thoroughfare, which connects CALABARZON to Imperial Manila, has been and always be part of my life. Why not? As a kid growing in a province, I look forward going to the 'big city' whenever my family goes for Christmas shopping or to experience the things only the city can offer. After high school, I can't wait to take that first bus heading to my dream of higher learning. You see, most Filipinos have this notion that studying in one of the colleges/universities in Manila gives one a certain prestige back home. Not to mention being enrolled in those well-known institutions with their pride colors, animal mascots and basketball teams. And going to the city means traversing SLEX. So the recent editorial cartoon in the Inquirer didn't have a hard time getting my attention. I'm aware of the ongoing SLEX upgrading and rehabilitation project since May 2006, and I well remember the stressful bus rides due to these stone control devices/barricades that re-route traffic in a haphazard fashion. The usual one-and-a-half-hour San Pablo-Manila trip becomes a two- to three-hour butt torture. I bet the 1956 Ten Commandments or The Sound of Music or Titanic can be played on-board JAC Liner from the start and be able to finish it. But the cartoon depicts it a bit creepy: Death welcoming motorists to an unwelcoming SLEX; at least the coniferous trees are still there amidst the morbidness. This might be due to the hazardous nature of the recent construction works and the increasing probability of a vehicular accident. The editorial cartoon might want to tell those people involved that they are not doing a satisfactory job specially in traffic flow management and safety. Well, I already told myself that sooner or later the ongoing project will be messy since SLEX is always expecting a huge volume of motorists (CALABARZON, afterall, is on the rise). An irritated and exhausted driver sometimes looses sound road decision-making. Anyway, they say the project is set to finish by March 2009 and, like in the NLEX (it's northern counterpart rehabilitated by 2005), the temporary nuisance is a trade off to a much modernized highway. Just expect higher toll fees though. Haha! From one nuisance to another. Welcome to the Philippines!

The ominous caricature is far from the nostalgic picture in my mind. I still want to imagine SLEX with its tree-lined highway, the Mt. Makiling from the distant southern end and the rice field on either side that boasts of its lushness and of the fresh air waiting to be inhaled. This picture will stay even with the rice fields being bulldozed to make way for future subdivisions. It will stay. At least a fantasy of one who used to be a probinsyano (a Pinoy word concoction of "someone from the province") kid who takes joy traversing the SLEX en route the big city. At least a comforting bus ride of one who used to be a student then a professional working in the city en route a place for the weekend respite. And as I outgrow that childhood fantasy, traversing SLEX seems to reduce to traversing a one-way path – a direction that shall only lead me beyond the greens and blues of Mt. Makiling – back home. Yes, I had a change of heart. If after graduating high school I planned of getting the best education, build a successful career and then settling in Manila, today it remains the same but not the place to settle. If my adolescent impulse is to leave that place I consider lame and boring, now I like to go back and redefine those words: simple and quiet. I guess the smog and congestion succeeded in diminishing the value of being a Manileño on a personal level. Besides there are lots of Pinoys who are still city bound. I might as well be one less of that count. I don't hate Manila, don't get me wrong. I still love going to the malls and other places of interest (haven't been in Intramuros actually). But if I were to fulfill one of the things in my bucket list – that is, having a house overlooking Mother Nature at one of her glories (see the full list on the side frame) – I love it to be back in my hometown. I don't mind being far from the political, economic and cultural capital; I'll build my own version in San Pablo. The plans, however, may still change. Anything can happen in the next years specially now that working means traveling. I might end up somewhere else but I bet it would be due mainly to the future Mrs. Brosas. But for now, I would love to turn right to that exit at the far south end where the coconuts grow.

The kid had grown, the probinsyano is now homeward bound and an all-new SLEX will be there paving the way.

GMT -3 DST Sao Paulo, Brazil

Status Message

2008-10-20T15:45:00.000+08:00

I always enjoy checking out the status messages of my online friends/contacts when I sign in Yahoo!® Messenger. Maybe because of their diversity: from the verbatim to the personally tailored, from the trivial to the profound, from the lame to the overly creative, from the somber to the optimistic, from the hilarious to plain stupid rudeness, from the appreciative to the repulsive view of the world.

Status messages were introduced by instant messenging/chat providers to let users inform the rest of the online community whether one is available, offline, idle or busy. It's a convenient civil way of saying "ok, let's have a chat" or "leave me alone". Then it started to evolve towards the personal.

I am one of those people who usually speak to the world through status messages, and I believe that there are those who share the same pleasure in reading these. It's like a speaker-listener relationship. This only shows that no matter what's the medium or the venue, we all communicate. Everyone expresses sentiments. Everyone takes notice. Then there are some who shall respond. And I guess having personalized status messages is my subliminal way to solicit response. I reckon it's human nature. It's my nature to brave the social weather by letting people know my current status and by discovering theirs. My interest to status messages may be due to my inner desire to know other people's thoughts (even superficial) and feelings. You see, I'm always on a look out to people that I may be in a clash with and how I could formulate intra- and inter-personal compromise with them; in short, I adapt myself. I guess it's a defensive mechanism to eventually fit in the group.

Well, this is beyond the chat rooms.

But admit it or not, status messages are written all over us.

GMT -3 DST Sao Paulo, Brazil

An Hour I Lost

2008-10-18T23:43:00.000+08:00

GMT -03:00 Brasilia

This is my current timezone; a reminder that I am left behind eleven hours back home. And coincidentally my current location is the Portuguese equivalent of my hometown (i.e. São Paulo - San Pablo - St. Paul).

07:00(GMT-3 São Paulo) I woke up, took a shower and prepared some breakfast (sunny-side up)
18:00(GMT+8 San Pablo) On my way home probably coming from a friend's house, my work in Manila or SFC gathering

08:00 At Bras (São Paulo's Divisoria) buying Havianas for pasalubong
19:00 Still on my way...

12:30 Just arrived at the hotel; prepared late lunch
23:30 Watching late cable movie or hooked up on the net

15:00 Laugh trip: Supahpapalicious (Vhong Navarro)
02:00(the next day) Just pulled the blankets on

18:00 Laundry then dinner
05:00 Zzzzz

21:30 Suspense-thriller trip: Mirrors (Keifer Sutherland)
08:30 Zzzzz

23:41 Started a new blog entry
10:41 Out for a Sunday activity

Then on a blink, an hour passed.

Not in a metaphorical sense. Physically, and instantaneously, one hour has been skipped. Today is when Brasil's southern states implement Daylight Saving Time (DST). Yes, we Filipinos had this kind of practice, albeit experimental, during the Aquino's and Ramos' Administrations. Though I didn't share the same enthusiasm as with those who proposed it back then. Either I was too young (yes, believe it) or I didn't feel any significance, effect or whatsoever. And now, it's like an old idea that's beginning to sink in as a new one.

Now I'm just ten hours behind but 1 hour wanting. There was this awkward feeling when I adjusted all my clocks (i.e. laptop, PDA and cellphone) forward one hour at exactly 00:00H today. It's like loosing one hour of my life. But the funny thing is that DST is just a convention that everyone agreed to do at a specific time; physically nothing has changed. The integrity of space-time continuum is still intact and the universe is far from extinction. And I don't think anything in this world can change that.

Like I said before, we are living this life in only one direction. We can look back but then we are still pulled to that one direction, forward. We can stop for a while but then we are bound to continue on. Conventions invented by humanity such as the DST can make time look forwarded or its reverse but time is more than humanity itself; it encompasses it. It's like an invisible plane where we all stand and move. But unlike us, humans, it does not change form. Yes, one can argue that it's relative (maybe ask Einstein) but still it's one hell of a hard-wired frame – at any given point on that frame, everyone is bound to move towards the direction it goes. I can race time. I can make it slow. I can stop. But then it's just me. Before I know it, time just passed. And I can't blame the universe for not having enough time. Like I said, it's already hard-wired.

An hour or two can't be lost. Life is.

GMT -3 Sao Paulo, Brazil

Soulmate

2008-10-12T22:23:00.000+08:00

Does she exist?

But why would I consider the idea if I don't believe with it in the first place? Trust me, I don't. That is, if one will define a soulmate as the one and only other half of one's soul, for which all souls are driven to find and join. Or anything to that effect that draws definition from the mystical; a definition that has been here since Plato's time. The question, however, does not incite my personal belief rather it begs to redefine the very meaning of it. And if I were to rephrase the definition it would be like this: the ~~one and only other half~~ complement of one's soul, for which all souls ~~are driven~~ choose to find and ~~join~~ be in mutual union. To explain in parts:

1. complement of one's soul - does not necessarily mean compatibility; personally I believe she is someone that shall make a good monster slayer. I have a Mr. Hyde inside, a vicious monster, and I desperately need a slayer. Hmmm.. I'm looking forward to that battle soon. But the one thing I'm sure of is that she is not, and shall never be, half of my soul. The only half for that matter. Who said our souls are made in half? We were made in God's likeness and I don't think He is in half. Maybe that's the problem with some people I call 'love martyrs'; thinking that life's over if the perceived other half went gone. There is one good thing that we can learn from Narcissus: love your self first.

2. all souls choose to find - no magic; no supernatural force; no destiny. It's a choice. And if someone does not wish to embark on an odyssey, then I guess one has already chosen to cease the existence of a soulmate. So you see, there can never be another half. Just another one.

3. be in mutual union - one-way discernment shall never work. It should be mutual. I can call my all-time crush my soulmate but it just diminishes my own definition if she does not feel the same way back. She will only be a "soul" but not a "mate". See how can people misuse the term? Well, it's their choice of word as I have mine.

One will argue that the idea of a soulmate does not fall on that life's category I call love. It is just an idea that someone exists as the other half of you that sooner or later you will bump into in a place foretold by the stars. A soulmate, some say, can either be of the two natural genders. Well if that would be the other definition then I totally dismiss the idea. Yes, God created the world in pairs but that was in the beginning. Towards the end, all He wants is for us to be one community; one body (1 Corinthians 12). No need for that one and only someone (be it a girl or a boy) connected to me by a somewhat supernatural umbilical cord.

But then, I chose to personally define my soulmate as a she. And please note that it is a choice; we have been given free will. Destiny is just one of those Hollywood flicks. But then again, bells and butterflies are not all bad. Just don't get too mesmerized by them.

Come to think of it, I almost found her by way of definitions 1 and 2.

The third sucks!

GMT -3 Sao Paulo, Brazil

Shit happens...

2008-10-12T00:04:00.000+08:00

...everyday.

We can't do anything about it. It is part of the system. It is one of those things uncertain that we expect. If we try to prevent it we are doomed to constipation. And I don't want to feel constipated; it hinders other activities that are worthwhile. So it would make me feel better if I accept the fact that shit happens. It would make me better. Of course, the mess it will make is like falling in a pit of crap. And what do you do if you actually fall in it? You frantically try to get out. It depends on the depth how much time we can get out though. Yet somehow after falling on different holes and pits, we manage to be good at getting out faster no matter how deep. Then it becomes part of the system, and life goes on.

But some people will still be miserable with their shits.

I don't know with them but the last time I checked I did flushed mine.

GMT -3 Sao Paulo, Brazil

Literary # 2

2008-10-09T20:26:00.000+08:00

Who I am is You

In a sea of faceless crowd
Lost in thoughts, drowned by fear
For who I am is uncertain
Drifted by waves of pretense
Never real
Never me

Who I am is constant struggle
Seeking to cut out like the rest
A wearing parade of masks
That creates jaded illusions
Neither real
Neither me

I want to live out the truth
And show the world unmasked
Teach me cease pretending
And start living out Your will
Let me be myself, Lord!
Let me be free!
For who I am is You

In this life’s game of charades
I fail to see the self You painted in me
Which is real
Which is me

I want to live out the truth
And show the world unmasked
Teach me cease pretending
And start living out Your will
Let me be myself, Lord!
Let me be free!
You’re my Creator,
And I will never fear.
For who I am is You,
And in Your likeness
I'm worthy.
I’m faithful.
I give praise!

Found this while cleaning up some clutter in my laptop.
This was my entry to the Laguna SFC Pop 2006 - Praise and Worship Band Category.
Thanks to the Zion Band from my Singles For Christ San Pablo Cathedral-Calihan Chapter for the arrangement and interpretation. One of the reasons to miss home.

GMT -3 Sao Paulo, Brazil

The Day the World Becomes Bankrupt

2008-10-08T16:53:00.000+08:00

Ergo the end of modern civilization, if not end of the world.

Though debatable, I think global bankruptcy is a far-fetched scenario – if it really does happen civilization will just go on a re-boot; the world starting on a clean slate. Money, afterall, is just human invention. It's just like Filipino children of the 90's (yes, emphasis is needed here) playing habulan from dusk until full moon's high unanimously declaring a game over if they feel that no one's enjoying anymore. It would just take a unanimous vote of the UN General Assembly or, maybe, just the mere handshakes of the Group of Eight to declare a Jubilee Year like in Moses' Laws; all debts wiped out on the face of the earth! The only difference is Moses' Jubilee Year was mandated due to heavenly command whereas the latter is an escape from man's fall due to greed.

Yes, greed. It is the inevitable consequence of this human creation, money. Gone were the days where people works together, tills together and reaps together then festivities together afterwards; where all the harvests are communal and no one owes anyone. A scenario which, I think, existed when early homo sapiens walk the earth as nomads. As soon as people started to get settled, businesses commenced operations and the evolution of human avarice is history. It's paradoxically funny to think that the rise and advancement of human species aimed at life's simplicity come with such complexity.

And the recent global economic crisis serves as a reminder of how fragile and volatile this societal pillar we call financial institutions. For a common Juan de la Cruz such as myself, all the details of the recent events seem like Greek. All I know is just 'big-time' companies are either closing down or being bought or bailed-out with such names as Bear Stearns, IndyMac, Lehman Brothers, Merrill Lynch and AIG flashing over the headlines. A person immersed in technical engineering terms suddenly becomes interested in terminologies such as mortgage, credit crunch, subprime, recession, inflation and economic bubble – at least I find a somewhat kiddy comfort on the bubble thing. What interests me most is the idea of derivatives (ok, lower the geek-meter for this is not calculus). Apparently, financial world is as much complicated as our politics back home. Imagine investing on something that is said to have a value highly dependent on another which has obtained its value from a third entity which may have been invested on a fourth. Think of the multi-level marketing (MLM) scheme still prevalent in the Philippines. The top layer rakes in most of the profit, the ones in the middle get parts of the chunk and the lower layer, well, stays there. I'm not into these things so any 'financial gurus' feel free to correct me. But the basic idea is the volatility of it all. Imagine one card falls off the rest of the deck. And I think that what has happened on Wall Street a month ago. I read somewhere that it has its roots many years back though. Nevertheless, it may well boils down to the basic truth, that these companies, wanting to earn more, took risk investing on greed.

Picture this:

banks started to provide credit to borrowers deemed subprime (layman's definition: imagine your usual drunkard neighbor borrowing Php500 promising he'll pay back once his sick mother's pension comes or a friend's friend convicted of estafa years ago) but on a higher interest rate
people started to borrow and to buy expensive houses (here, I think, they felt rich)
then there was a boom in real estate; the demand for houses started to expand (hence the term housing bubble)
here comes the colossal financial institutions and invested on these loans and mortgages (here is a parody of derivatives):

Pedro: Hey Juan, Mario borrowed some marbles from me.

Juan: But he owes most of the kids here, do you think he'll pay it back?

Pedro: Don't worry he will. He just needed extra marbles for the game on the next block. Besides, I told him that I'll lend him if he agrees to pay me five-folds.

Juan : Whoa! That's a lot of marbles added to your collection.

Pedro : Yeah. So, do you want to have a share on that? All you need to do is pool some of your marbles to me so we can lend Tomas with the same terms. We'll split the additional marbles 50/50.

Juan : I'm in!

Then Juan did the same with Berto but the split is 60/40 from the 50% of the first agreement. Berto, who's also fond of trading cards, offered a similar scheme with Orli, a marble enthusiast: trade some of Orli's card collection for 40% of the marbles Berto can get from the previous agreement. Well, Orli wants to have more marbles so I guess he will look for a kid in the neighborhood to get a similar agreement as with the others. And you'll picture the rest of the story; no offense intended to children.

then like any bubble, it soon burst; people are now stuck, unable to pay for what they owe
the companies who invested on these soon accumulated liabilities (i.e. unpaid loans) surpassing what they have in assets; negative in the accounting books means corporate disaster

There you go. The gist of what had led to the current crisis in my personal understanding. They call it the US subprime mortgage crisis. Well, there are other factors that involves the government and other sectors of the society albeit too Greek, nay, alien to people like me. What stands out is that these Wallstreet biggies enjoyed quasi-autonomous run of the financial world; a seemingly exclusive club for those in black suits and top hats. Capitalists, afterall, are born to profit at any cost and this costs us big time! The world economy is now on a slowdown (Iceland is on the brink of bankruptcy!). I don't want this blog to be a sort of attack to this financial institutions. Afterall, they are just doing their job no matter how greedy they appear to me and now they are suffering the consequences of their short-sightedness. And so are we, thank you very much!

I bet the financial world will never be the same again with all the impending reforms and legislation to avoid the same fate as today. Wallstreet, in particular, will loose all its perks as a deregulated entity. Economies will not be seen as a Monopoly gameboard for a while. This period will be remembered and shall be written down on textbooks as lessons to be learned in Economic schools added to that of the Great Depression of the 30's and the Asian Financial Crisis of 1997.

I will never be the same again.

So this leads me to the microcosm of this global incident: my own avarice.

I admit I'm a materialistic person. I get this impulsive drive to buy things that I fancy. If I have the money, I'll buy it. If not, then what do my 3 credit cards doing in my wallet. Don't ask the credit limits! They say don't trust a woman with your credit card. I say, don't trust myself with my credit card. It's not all about women and their inherent love for shopping (ok, feminists feel free to attack me). It's not all about having multiple credit cards in the pocket regardless of gender. Borrowing money is not an evil thing (unless one intends to run away with it). More so, money is not evil. What's wrong is my immoderate desire, nay, lust for material things. And worst, I tend to borrow money through credit cards just to satisfy this. I remember having to owe the card company which I begun to find hard to pay. Sometimes I thought that I was just paying for the finance charge. You see, that was my problem before. I thought having credit card gives one much needed purchasing power. No worries, I can pay it anyway on the end of the month. But I fail to realize that it was a psychological warfare; having to give a self-perception that I am rich, it is also self-destructive.

So you see, I don't need to criticize and attack those companies for their greedy actions. Let authortities and experts deal with that. It's their world. I have my own world (no, I'm not autistic). Let them have their reforms, and I will have my own. Ironically, now that I'm earning more than before I become frugal with my finances; planning towards investments rather than liable expenses. No more to purchases where payment is drawn on credit. No more to purchases that exceed my income. I'll keep the credit cards though. It's still good to maintain a credit line. But I'll just use it for cashless purchases (no, this is different from credit purchases; instead of withdrawing cash, I'll pay through card and just pay in full online the same day). At least I'll earn more redeemable points (maybe donate these points to Children's Hour). At least it will be robber-proof!

I'll be buying a Nikon D90 and iPhone 3G when I come home this year. It will be my last liable swanky purchases (maybe for the next 2 years) then the rest of my savings will go to investments. But I'll be paying these with my credit cards. Only this time I'm sure I can afford them.

This time I know, personally and financially, I am far from being bankrupt.

GMT -3 Sao Paulo, Brazil

How’d I Fared the Marshmallow Test?

2008-09-26T16:32:00.000+08:00

This week is what I like to call Petix (Petiks) Week; that is, idle at work – who can blame me, there are no tasks coming from my boss. But it doesn’t stop me from becoming productive. Say I’m just being a wasted company resource of the week; I’m pre-occupied with myself reckoning the things around me nonetheless. And thanks to Yahoo! Messenger and my friend Joya, those things circling around my head finally rendezvoused.

Since our Globe Telecom days (or aptly, the day we became seatmates) Joya and I started a pun on the so-called Marshmallow Test. “Bagsak ka sa Marshmallow Test nung bata ka noh?”, you’ll hear us throw this line to the other whenever one of us would crack on a seemingly difficult exercise on restraint. Though neither of us underwent this (or so our memories say), it’s an added fun after a burst of half-meant revelation or near-miss remark on our pseudo-secrets. Plus, it relieves the tension on our feet iron-chained to our former job.

Then today (the last of the Petix days, so far) Joya greeted me over the chat line with “Bagsak ka ba ng Marshmallow Test?”. I became numb; wondering if I had made an unintentional comment on some of our recurring email group thread. Then I remember our chat early this week; a virtual conversation (minus the lattes) about waiting. I should have known better!

Waiting. Marshmallow Test. Seems like two things on each end of the spectrum. But who says impromptu conversations are random? Interestingly enough, this psychological test by Walter Mischel four decades ago is all about waiting: four-year olds being given a marshmallow and promised another, only if they could wait 20 minutes before eating the first one. Some children could wait and others could not. And, as reported, those who waited became successful later in life. Could have I passed the test? Well, I consider myself nearing success but why does it make me think otherwise? Maybe because I'm yet to be halfway on my journey. Maybe because until now I'm haunted by that test lurking behind me. Maybe because I'm yet to respond on my own marshmallow. Darn! My pre-school teacher should have given me the test already.

The test leads us to Sigmund Freud's theory of personality. It reveals that our psyche is composed of 3 parts:

id - pleasure

ego - reality

super-ego - morality; the conscience

He says that id rules our early life. But as one matures, one begins to learn the need sometimes to endure pain and to defer gratification because of the exigencies and obstacles of reality (ego), guided by a higher consciousness (super-ego). Tell me about reality and morality slapping the face! And I like Freud's theory. It explains everything. The test is not a one-time early childhood activity. It is a continuing endeavor for the rest of our temporal life. Id. It is my immature self always whining within me. It is the very thing that is impatient on waiting. So how to get rid of this id? I believe it will never go away just as like childhood memories becoming part of who I am; they form a trinity that defines me. Moreover, I believe that id can be more of an ally than a foe. It is considered my driving force. A force that, in the first place, kept me waiting. But allowing the id to further rule over ends sanity. There should be a balancing factor that would keep me from being sent to a psychiatric ward.

Reality.

And it bites. So why not have reality for breakfast, lunch and dinner until I get stifled? Then maybe, just maybe, I get to have my marshmallow for dessert. Afterall, the rewards of patience is sweet. I now understand that my ego and super-ego should be ruling my life onwards; the physical and the metaphysical; this temporal world and the Kingdom of Heaven. I won't rush. The days are young and I'm stronger than you think.

So how'd I fared? I may have flunked some of the previous tests but there are more to come. Trust me.

They say there will be a surprised test next week.

I'll be waiting then we'll see.

GMT -3 Sao Paulo, Brazil

The Grand Scheme of Things

2008-09-23T22:50:00.001+08:00

If the world hates you,

you know that it has hated me

before it hated you.

John 15:18

(click image for larger view)

GMT -3 Sao Paulo, Brazil

Literary # 1

2008-09-22T23:15:00.000+08:00

Crossing Lines

I’d like to go to the other side.
Even just for awhile.
Just to know how it feels to be there.
Just to see the things that are afar.

So I did.

And the thing in my chest started to pump out fuel to a morbid flesh.
It felt good and made me live again.
It felt good that I don’t want to go back.
But I know this is just for awhile.

Can I stay?

Then silence.
I have known the consequence of the intrusion.
I should have just enjoyed the moments I’m there.
But I have to know.

No answer.

Just the way leading back to where I stood before looking to this side.

GMT -3 Sao Paulo, Brazil

Decisions

2008-09-21T23:31:00.000+08:00

Stupor is almost upon me. But then a random thought strikes me.

How will I know the rightness or the wrongness of my decisions?

I always tell friends whenever they seek my advice that there are no right or wrong decisions, just consequences and the way one deals with them afterwards. But am I right or am I wrong with this? Indeed, it all boils down to what is right and what is wrong. It seems that the world is bounded by Boolean logic; of 1s and of 0s. And who says what is? This mere thought of defining the boundaries of rightness and wrongness seems to exceed any of us. It’s futile. I well remember a quote from Albus Dumbledore of the Harry Potter universe regarding a choice between what is right and what is easy. And yes, most of the time decisions I make are the ones that are easy. But does it mean it is wrong? Does it mean right decisions are difficult? So will this just reduce to choices between easy and difficult?

So what now? How will I know? Maybe if it feels right. Maybe if it feels good. Maybe if it makes others around me happy. Then it is right.

Or maybe I stick to my current principle of unbounded decisions. Because having bipolar path begets an end; that is, a perceived wrong decision means ceasing to exist (metaphorically). But if there are no right and wrong, just plain decisions we make and the consequences we are ready to face, life goes on. So it is not all about knowing on choosing. It’s about being a brave soul who knows what he/she is no matter what the outcome will be. Hah! Easy blogged than done.

But who says it’s easy?

GMT -3 Sao Paulo, Brazil

On Kung Fu Panda, Tortang Talong, Red Wine and Other Ingredients for Surviving Another 'Sloth'-urday

2008-09-20T21:17:00.001+08:00

It was another Saturday; idle that is. An excuse for me to wake up at 12nn, take a full meal at 3pm and just bum around the whole day. Well I have to blame it to the wet and cold São Paulo springtime. And I thought spring always brings happy thoughts just like in the list of Maria’s favorite things in the Sound of Music. I guess it wasn’t for me, at least not this time. Good thing that the hotel has free wifi; internet connectivity is considered lifeline for Pinoys away from home. Believe me it is, and see how we frantically confront the front desk whenever there is downtime. It is as essential as the air we breathe and packs of sinigang mix.

And having unlimited connection to the world wide web gives one the perk to access downloadables; essential of which are movies – sometimes cable TV does not give me the pleasure of preferable programming, you know. Thanks to BitComet I had Kung Fu Panda tickle my funny bones today. No, actually, I think it cracked it. That would be better than a happy thought for today. It’s the funniest animation I’ve seen since Shrek. The kind that makes you laugh out loud. Feels good and makes an effective cure to idle sickness. But what makes it “blog-worthy” is the fact that alongside all the laughs and fist-banging on the coffee table realizations made their way to my core, yet again. I don’t want to be a spoiler but on a gist the movie is all about an important lesson in life. Faith in oneself. Yes, a formulaic theme of numerous books, movies, talks and the like but it’s a theme needed to be repeated over and over again so as to permanently assimilate it to our way of life. And as human beings, we tend to linger too much on the past and be anxious of what lies ahead. Like Master Oogway said to an apprehensive Master Shifu on training the would-be Dragon Master, Po:

“You are too concerned to what was and what will be…
Yesterday is history.
Tomorrow is a mystery.
Today is a gift. That is why it's called the present.”

Of course, history teaches us life’s lesson and the future gives us the opportunity to plan the course over mysterious waters. But it all goes down to us, of what we are now and of how we believe ourselves that we have learned it all and have the capacity to chart our future.

And I do.

A question always asked to a successful person is the secret of success. Funny thing is, the movie somewhat made a parody of this. When Mr. Ping (Po’s father) revealed the secret of the family’s noodle soup, he said there is none. He just made it up just to entice customers; a psychological tactic employed even in real life. When Po finally receives the Dragon Scroll that will give him great power, he found nothing in it. It’s just a piece of parchment, reflected in it is the mirror-image of the holder. There you go. Secret to life’s success is overrated. It’s a secret no more yet a lot of people still are in search for the answer where in fact they will find it in the mirror in front of them. Or maybe let’s do away with mirrors. Ask ourselves upfront, sideward, inward… outward. And in an idle day like that was, I always sit in my place of respite and do nothing. Physically I’m idle but my mind wanders, travels. Today is a great day for me because I live yet another day. I survived. I didn’t hang myself or slashed my wrist out of depression. I simply survived. Today.

So I live life and thanking God for the present. One thing separates me from those manic-depressive is that I consider regrets my life’s footnotes, taking them out for reference but do not define me. One thing separates me from people fearful of the future is that I’m willing to take risks. Of course, I have a plan – risks are just part of it.

Long term plan: see the world.

Short term plan: survive today.

And I just did. Again. One idle day seems to be worthwhile and it will come to pass before you know it. With tortang talong (it was my first time and I thank Kuya Marky for showing me how when we were in Georgia) and strips of bacon matching red wine, there is no secret ingredient for a sumptuous end-of-the-day meal. Who would have thought it could be a nice dinner combination? Well, it could have been attributed to the fact that there were almost nothing left inside the fridge from last grocery. Nonetheless, it established the idea that it is survival instinct to ultimately rely on oneself. No secret ingredient. No secret recipe of some sort. Just me cooking and enjoying the meal afterwards.

Maybe next time I’m out of stuff in the fridge, I’ll try ketchup soup.

Or maybe I'll just go out to the supermarket.

GMT -3 Sao Paulo, Brazil

News from home

2008-09-16T00:54:00.002+08:00

It was another weekend in Rio de Janeiro; the 5th time actually. But unlike office routines or movie re-runs on cable TV on an idle dragging weekend, it was refreshing and stress-relieving though the place seems to reduce towards the ordinary due to frequent visits. Pinoys here already made a joke out of it: “Ginagawa lang pagluwas from Laguna to Manila ang Rio” (considering 6 hours of aching butt!). Nonetheless I will still return there over and over – with the Atlantic winds on my face, the powdery sand under my feet and the solace only Rio can give.

So now I’m back to usual hurly-burly that is São Paulo; a contrast to a laid-back Rio. Back to city routine: wake-up at 7am, spruce up, take a 15-min subway ride, get free coffee, boot up my laptop and then read the morning’s online newspaper. Well, considering an 11-hour time lag, the news is far from being hot-off-the-grill. Even so, I am still cognizant of what’s happening back home.

GRP-MILF MOA on Bangsamoro homeland.

Continuing air strikes in Mindanao.

Bribery in the Court of Appeals.

Lacson vs. Villar on C5 case.

Debate on Charter Change.

And the usual problem on corruption, political bickering and social injustice.

It comes to a point that these make me consider applying for residency visa here; pledging my allegiance to a new mother country. But home is still where my heart is. That’s why it saddens me to read news from there; an ironic way of stepping the morning up before work.

Peso tumbles.

This news, I know, can wake any OFW/Pinoy expat around. It never fails to wake me up. Cash-iiing! Thinking of the conversion, raking the rewards of being far from home. I hope it continues to fall. Umabot pa sana ng USD 1 to P 50! Every breaching of the all-month low barrier is good news that seems to dilute the melancholy of the others. It’s like Rio in a way that gives high satisfaction even on a negative premise. But this would be an absolute insult to the place.

Though it would really be glad tidings to every Pinoy expat (most of which are scraping the bottom of the fish tank), I think there’s more to the news that meets the “slot machine” eyes. Not that I am hypocritical but at the end of the day it makes me wonder if this really is the news I’m looking forward; somewhat a primer for my early retirement back home. Not that I am an economist but I understand that as an importing country, we are highly dependent on the foreign exchange rate. We are not like Brazil that is self-sufficient. We import oil. We import raw materials. We import rice even though we were once the leader in rice production (why do you think IRRI is established in the Philippines?). The side-news also reveals that since the fall of the Peso our national debt increased a certain percentage. Even I understand this since the reverse (i.e. Peso appreciation), on the other hand, would loose me some from lower conversion. Lugi! And look at the inflation today. My Php100,000.00 today might not even be the same in the next years! It’s a personal dilemma: choosing between raking in funds for my early retirement or stronger Peso. Actually, no one has a choice on this. I am just a spectator of the news. We all are. But one thing that strikes me is the irony of it all. It’s like during college when a student cheers over typhoons since classes will be suspended but fails to realize effects on flood-infested areas and aftermath such as landslides. Yes, it’s hard to exhort on things that are not beneficial to oneself. It leads me to think that Charles Darwin’s idea of natural selection or, aptly, “survival of the fittest” governs modern society than the idea of Sir Thomas More’s Utopia. But that would be for another blog.

Maybe it’s time for me to think out of myself.
Think of the long-term for all of us.

Then maybe news from home doesn’t have to be all bad.

GMT -3 Sao Paulo, Brazil

I am

2008-09-12T00:40:00.000+08:00

“Cogito, ergo sum.” - René Descartes

Well, I don’t want this blog to be tagged as if a discourse intended for passing a Philosophy subject; the field is certainly not included in my current CV. But in starting to write my own blog/journal/emotional-stress-outlet (the latter most unlikely; I’m not into ranting-on-a-public-domain thing), I realized that in the 26 years of my existence I never had a concrete idea on what I want to do with my life. You might say that it’s a cliché; a Purpose Driven Life rip-off. I read the book, by the way, and I will admit I’m influenced by it. But the question at hand is not whether the idea of “life’s purpose” is original or plagiarized (actually it has been here for ages). The question is the question itself. A cliché, yes, but has anyone answered it with a firm grip on a sword? An answer anchored on an immovable rock during a tempest? Rick Warren and other authors might have published books on this but for me these are mere guides. Self-help for others. I am still in the dark, nonetheless. One thing’s for sure, I am alive. I exist. I am.

“I think, therefore I am.” So there. The fact that I think, wondering my existence and writing it down now is the proof of my very existence. So what now if I exist? I know 26 years is such a long time and I know there are more ahead (crossing my fingers here). Have I just wasted those years? Is my “What-if” bin being half-full an indication of this? Wasted years? Wasted life? What if. I should have.

One thing I’ve learned as an engineer is that this physical world of ours is bounded by space and time, and that empirical evidences show that this continuum is moving one-way. Well if you want to step up the geek-meter more, one may contend hypothetical warping, but let’s not. Where we are now tells us that we are moving in one direction. No turning back, just regrets. We stumble. We falter, then remorse. But the only thing to do after a fall is to move forward, maybe stagnant for a while, but never try to build a time machine. The funny thing is I give this as advice to friends where my self seems uncertain. You see, I have my own “What-if” bin stashed under my bed. Half-full.

Good thing I finally started this long overdue blog; thanking the almost two-week idle time in the office. After all the browsing, Wikipedia-ing and useless pretending (hey, my boss ought to think I’m working on something) came the realization moment – a moment in one’s life where, like focal point under a magnifying glass, everything tends to be focused into.

Start.

Programs.

Microsoft Word.

And the cursor started to blink in front of me.

I am. The words came to life. The title of my pilot entry on this blog. The only subject in this world that I certainly am an expert of. I am a traveler all this time. A traveler that during some point in his journey stopped, looked at the map and adapted a new bearing. As a kid I always thought myself as a priest, genuflecting on every cross that I see. Then suddenly came the interest in cutting across human anatomy and the love for stethoscope dangling in my neck. Afterwards, why not a priest with stethoscope? But the stage called me and I felt as if it was my own, with all the lights and the applause. With a scholarship grant from Gerry Roxas Foundation waiting after high school graduation I saw myself in politics either as a public servant or one of the brilliant legal minds of the country. Then on a blink, I am now going places rendering my expertise on radio access network. Amusing. Retracing me gives comic relief albeit the regrets that end up banging my head. It’s quite a journey I had. And one thing I realized, my life’s purpose seems to reveal itself after all. Significance. I think I am here to be significant to others. I am here to influence; to make a significant change to them just by sharing my life’s souvenirs. And as a traveler I have with me all the souvenirs I’ve collected. Almost every day of my waking life I ponder on every question that strikes me. These questions seem to be incoherent before but now I think they are all parts of my purpose I long to understand. Anyway I’m still traveling. It’s still a long road for me. Like a Möbius strip, though the path is one-way and one-sided, I know I shall return from where I begin. When that time comes, my purpose shall be fulfilled.

So it’s time to put away that bin under my bed. Those in it are not existing.

I am.

GMT -3 Sao Paulo, Brazil