Sana nailunsad ang Magna Kultura Foundation bago pa man ako nakaalis ng Pilipinas, dahil masaya makiisa sa kanilang mga proyektong may pagkalahatang mithiin na itaguyod ang sining at kultura ng ating bayan. Hindi ko alam kung sino ang nag-imbita sa akin sa kanilang grupo dito sa Multiply, ngunit maraming salamat sa pagpaparating sa akin ng mga adhikain ng Magna Kultura. Ito na ata ang matagal ko ng hinahanap.
Ang ating sining at kultura ay ilan sa mga nalalabi nating kayamanan. Sa panahon ngayon na halos lahat ng Pilipino ay nawawalan na ng pag-asa sa pag-unlad sa iba't ibang aspekto ng buhay- ang ating natatanging sining at kultura ay nariyan lamang- mayroon pa tayong kayamanan! At kung ang kayamanang ito ay magagamit nang maigi at hindi aabusuhin, hindi malayong umunlad tayo, kahit paunti-unti lamang. Marahil sasabihin ng ilan, "Paano ka makakagawa ng malikhaing obra, kung walang laman ang iyong tiyan?" O di kaya naman ay, "Mas gugustuhin ba ng masang Pilipino manood ng isang dula kaysa sa Wowowee?" Ito ang mga katanungang nais tugunan ng Magna Kultura- ayon sa aking pagkakaintindi.
Nais ko sanang maging bahagi nito at ang pagpaparating sa inyo ng kanilang mga proyekto ay ang aking paraan upang makiisa.
Para sa mga naniniwalang may pag-asa pa tayong mga Pilipino sa pamamagitan ng ating sining at kultura, bisitahin niyo ito:
http://asiancenter.multiply.com/journal/item/103/TAKING_ARTS_AT_THE_GRASSROOTS_OF_SOCIETY_._._._THE_ART_OF_THE_START.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
BA-BE-BI-BO-BU
Months before I left the Philippines, I had the honor of teaching Mother Goose’s kids. It was somehow difficult to wake up at 6 AM to teach the kids who come to the house for what I call the Sunday school. Yes, you read that right- classes at 6 AM and on a Sunday. A real bummer one might consider. But the fact that the kids came knocking at our gate at exactly 6 AM and sometimes even earlier, encouraged me to become the professional instructor I claimed to be. The eagerness that they had was more than enough to stir or should I say, shove someone out of bed. The kids’ Saturdays were booked for their Catechism classes, while Sundays were for the review of the lessons they had in school. Hah! Someday, if time and resources would permit, I think Mother Goose would build a Catholic school for financially disadvantaged children. I was not ready to teach them about the Catholic faith and I don’t think I will be eligible to do so. It’s good that Mother Goose found a dedicated catechist. I believe you need to have a good training for that, and so I volunteered to tutor them instead on what I think I can handle- grade school lessons.
Some sessions were smooth-sailing and some were rough. From our sessions, it seemed that the main roadblock they had in fully understanding the concepts was the level of reading skill they had. I dealt with Grade 6 students who were still having trouble comprehending simple statements and explaining what those statements meant. Okay, maybe 6 AM was just not the most conducive time for some reading comprehension, but if that situation persisted throughout the day, that was really bothersome. This thought might bore the hell out of you or make the nerd ones rejoice, but I think it’s important that children be taught to read early and to communicate to others what they had read.
My interest in reading developed because of the various comics I grew up with. In effect, I also became a visual learner. One may question, “What kind of proper education would you get from comics?”. Others even consider them rubbish. Or Mark Twain may argue, “The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them.” Well, I am not saying that comics are the best materials for developing reading skills, but they definitely can serve as catalysts towards that end.
During my elementary years, Mother Goose used to bring home about 20 Filipino comics once a month- Horoscope, Love Story, Kenkoy, Hiwaga, Aliwan, Wakasan… those were some household names I remember in the Filipino comics industry. I remember myself, looking forward to reading those comics. I remember myself trying to finish all of them in just one night. I remember my fingers filled with black smudges from turning the pages (they came in newsprint those days). Most of the time, I was out of the house because Papirus and I were nangangapit-bahay. Apart from the computer games and toy blocks that I enjoyed playing at our neighbors' house, I found another joy- Happy comics. For those of you who remember this, this comics is about couples who fight over a third party in their relationship but they get back together in the end. Of course there were sensual themes, and those were never censored from me…haha. Every first Friday of the month, I looked forward to another set of comics- Funny and Bata Batuta and …where you would find Tomas at Kulas (the Filipino version of Tom and Jerry), Combatron, Eklok, the Planet of the Eyps, Mr. and Mrs…so these were the kiddie version. My yaya and I would pass by a newspaper/comics stand on our way home. Now I wonder where have all those comics gone? My English learning was a part due to Archie/Jughead/Betty and Veronica comics- I believe I have a wide collection of those comics, and for some reason I don’t know where most of them are right now. I remember one summer, because I just had to much of them, Mother Goose thought of renting them out to her office mates, and yeah I made quite a sum of money from those comics. But those comics just got too expensive. So there, my education was made more interesting by comics, and yes I pay tribute to them, by reading, guess what- the comics section of the newspaper! Haha. Currently, my addiction is Calvin and Hobbes.
In my previous entry, The Journal Club, I've realized the importance of reading and comprehension. I thought of making something relevant out of my current profession (science background) and my addiction to comics. I remember Eenai, who was taking Psychology at that time as she was amused by the children’s books made by Filipinos. To make the books amusing, they appeared in full color and stories were really interesting. Well I thought of making science books for kids, but I wanted to make it comics style. I know it had been done so many times, but not that marketable. That’s one of the things on my list. Hopefully, I would have the right contacts, like illustrators and smart story-makers who are willing to cooperate with me in this endeavor and not expect a pay at least for a couple of years. Because the goal is to distribute these for free to kids in public schools, just like the kids Mother Goose have. I believe we still have hope.
Some sessions were smooth-sailing and some were rough. From our sessions, it seemed that the main roadblock they had in fully understanding the concepts was the level of reading skill they had. I dealt with Grade 6 students who were still having trouble comprehending simple statements and explaining what those statements meant. Okay, maybe 6 AM was just not the most conducive time for some reading comprehension, but if that situation persisted throughout the day, that was really bothersome. This thought might bore the hell out of you or make the nerd ones rejoice, but I think it’s important that children be taught to read early and to communicate to others what they had read.
My interest in reading developed because of the various comics I grew up with. In effect, I also became a visual learner. One may question, “What kind of proper education would you get from comics?”. Others even consider them rubbish. Or Mark Twain may argue, “The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them.” Well, I am not saying that comics are the best materials for developing reading skills, but they definitely can serve as catalysts towards that end.
During my elementary years, Mother Goose used to bring home about 20 Filipino comics once a month- Horoscope, Love Story, Kenkoy, Hiwaga, Aliwan, Wakasan… those were some household names I remember in the Filipino comics industry. I remember myself, looking forward to reading those comics. I remember myself trying to finish all of them in just one night. I remember my fingers filled with black smudges from turning the pages (they came in newsprint those days). Most of the time, I was out of the house because Papirus and I were nangangapit-bahay. Apart from the computer games and toy blocks that I enjoyed playing at our neighbors' house, I found another joy- Happy comics. For those of you who remember this, this comics is about couples who fight over a third party in their relationship but they get back together in the end. Of course there were sensual themes, and those were never censored from me…haha. Every first Friday of the month, I looked forward to another set of comics- Funny and Bata Batuta and …where you would find Tomas at Kulas (the Filipino version of Tom and Jerry), Combatron, Eklok, the Planet of the Eyps, Mr. and Mrs…so these were the kiddie version. My yaya and I would pass by a newspaper/comics stand on our way home. Now I wonder where have all those comics gone? My English learning was a part due to Archie/Jughead/Betty and Veronica comics- I believe I have a wide collection of those comics, and for some reason I don’t know where most of them are right now. I remember one summer, because I just had to much of them, Mother Goose thought of renting them out to her office mates, and yeah I made quite a sum of money from those comics. But those comics just got too expensive. So there, my education was made more interesting by comics, and yes I pay tribute to them, by reading, guess what- the comics section of the newspaper! Haha. Currently, my addiction is Calvin and Hobbes.
In my previous entry, The Journal Club, I've realized the importance of reading and comprehension. I thought of making something relevant out of my current profession (science background) and my addiction to comics. I remember Eenai, who was taking Psychology at that time as she was amused by the children’s books made by Filipinos. To make the books amusing, they appeared in full color and stories were really interesting. Well I thought of making science books for kids, but I wanted to make it comics style. I know it had been done so many times, but not that marketable. That’s one of the things on my list. Hopefully, I would have the right contacts, like illustrators and smart story-makers who are willing to cooperate with me in this endeavor and not expect a pay at least for a couple of years. Because the goal is to distribute these for free to kids in public schools, just like the kids Mother Goose have. I believe we still have hope.
THE JOURNAL CLUB
At the dinner table, the night before our exam, this was how my conversation with Rockstar went…
K: O, ano yung pinakamagandang article para sa iyo?
R: Ha? (Isip…)
K: Ako, favorite ko yung kay XX at kay YY. Astig kaya yung ginawa nila!
R: Sus, hindi kaya. Simple lang naman yung kanila e. Mas okay yung kanila ZZ at AA.
K&R: Blah, blah, blah…
Ending: Humahalakhak kami. Because we never thought that reading so many journal articles would lead us to the kind of conversation that we had. As if we were talking about our favorite scenes in a movie or the most cherished places we had been too. No worries though, for it was just the first time we had that talk- just to laugh the jitters off before the exam day. Our daily conversations are still perfectly normal and sane, if you will.
I ranted in Facebook some months ago, “Why can’t journal articles be like novels? So that you can say- “Damn, this journal article is so hard to put down?” I didn’t really hate reading them- otherwise I should not be in this academic program I am in right now. The terrible part is when you get swamped by those articles (every lecture meeting that we have requires 2-4 papers for background reading and we have two meetings a week) and you haven’t even finished reading the first paper (because of the technicalities of the author’s experiments; and so you needed to read other reference papers or books to backup your knowledge on the techniques they used). In addition, attention span in reading scientific articles seemed so short. That was why I was looking for some elements of novels or short stories in those papers. But as Piolo said, “By then Ph.D. would just be another book club.” Oh well. It’s a matter of getting used to them. Eventually, it would be easier to see the big picture coming out of the abstract, introduction, methodology, discussion and conclusion.
K: O, ano yung pinakamagandang article para sa iyo?
R: Ha? (Isip…)
K: Ako, favorite ko yung kay XX at kay YY. Astig kaya yung ginawa nila!
R: Sus, hindi kaya. Simple lang naman yung kanila e. Mas okay yung kanila ZZ at AA.
K&R: Blah, blah, blah…
Ending: Humahalakhak kami. Because we never thought that reading so many journal articles would lead us to the kind of conversation that we had. As if we were talking about our favorite scenes in a movie or the most cherished places we had been too. No worries though, for it was just the first time we had that talk- just to laugh the jitters off before the exam day. Our daily conversations are still perfectly normal and sane, if you will.
I ranted in Facebook some months ago, “Why can’t journal articles be like novels? So that you can say- “Damn, this journal article is so hard to put down?” I didn’t really hate reading them- otherwise I should not be in this academic program I am in right now. The terrible part is when you get swamped by those articles (every lecture meeting that we have requires 2-4 papers for background reading and we have two meetings a week) and you haven’t even finished reading the first paper (because of the technicalities of the author’s experiments; and so you needed to read other reference papers or books to backup your knowledge on the techniques they used). In addition, attention span in reading scientific articles seemed so short. That was why I was looking for some elements of novels or short stories in those papers. But as Piolo said, “By then Ph.D. would just be another book club.” Oh well. It’s a matter of getting used to them. Eventually, it would be easier to see the big picture coming out of the abstract, introduction, methodology, discussion and conclusion.
25 THINGS
1. When I was younger, I had a picture of Lea Salonga pinned on the door of my favorite cabinet. The picture was a cut-out from Horoscope comics (see #2). To make things more exciting, I “signed” her name on the picture. And now I am wondering why I did that. It was probably just one of those days that I needed someone to look up to. And now I am wondering again (and scratching my head), why her?
2. I love reading comics. My affair with those reading materials started with Filipino ones- Horoscope, Wakasan, Love Story, Happy, Funny, Bata Batuta. Then, when I learned to read, write and speak in English, I tried Archie comics. Then when I learned to face intellectual and moral issues, I tried Calvin and Hobbes. Oh yes, you can get serious education from comics.
3. I had once been on the headline page of the Today newspaper back in 1995. The front page had my sole photo wearing our beloved Paulinian attire, waving mini-Vatican paper flags. That was taken when Pope John Paul II was about to leave the country. I think we were singing…”Viva, viva, oh viva…” Hahaha! I kept that paper. Sadly, I can’t remember where.
4. When situations suck the life out of me, I clean my toenails. Seeing my toenails clean somehow resurrects me.
5. I initially wanted to become a nun. Then I changed my mind and wanted to become a teacher instead. I guess the idea of being a medical doctor was brought about by some peer and family pressure (at least not by my immediate family). My father would always tell me that he can’t afford to send me to medical school. I didn’t feel bad about that. I wondered, “How come I didn’t feel disappointed?” That’s when I realized that having an “M.D.” appended to my name was not one my greatest dreams. I gave it a thought too because my classmates and relatives encouraged me (and I still thank them for that), but the idea of being in charge of a person’s life somehow scared me. Now, I am working my way to becoming a doctor, but a different one this time.
6. It’s hard for me to sleep without a blanket, even during warm days/nights. It has to cover all parts of my body except my feet. I leave my feet exposed, as I feel suffocated if they are covered as well. Why not just uncover my head? Beats me. I don’t know why. I think I breathe through my feet.
7. People at home think I don’t eat a lot, but I do. I just have this feeling that at home, you share the food in the table, that’s why I am conscious as to how many pieces of chicken or pork chop I should place on my plate.
8. I am orally withdrawn, but uninhibited in writing. For some time, I hated my lack of spontaneity and responsiveness when communicating verbally. I admire those who manage to maintain good and fun conversations with people whom they just met.
9. I used to burp a lot and I burped aloud, at least around people who know me. In one case where I believe I got drunk, but still fully aware of what was happening- they said that I burped for like 60 times. My defense? At least the air came out of my mouth and not from another exit point, where it could have combined with some notorious gases.
10. I can make loud sounds by striking my tongue onto my palate. Back home, I used this sound to call Manong Sidecar instead of the traditional whistle.
11. I wear eyeglasses now. I still can’t stand wearing my prescription glasses so I wear contact lenses.
12. I am a White Flower junkie. White Flower Oil is a Chinese embrocation for aches and pains. It’s my upper for boring lectures/seminars or a counter-scent for unwanted odors. I know sooner or later this addiction would affect a certain body organ. Let’s wait and see.
13. I love tasting non-edible items for scientific pursuit. I’ve tasted acetone. I’ve tasted White Flower (see #12). I’ve tasted isopropyl alcohol. I’ve tasted some water from salt beds- didn’t care where the water came from. I just wanted to verify for myself that they indeed had salty substances.
14. I love toddlers. I believe they are easier to deal with than adults who have so many issues and pretensions.
15. I used to think I had superpowers! When I was younger (as in very young), I had two small skin outgrowths on my left hand which I thought were special and which caused me to have special skills. Why? Because I didn’t see those in other people’s hands! (This kind of thinking is a side effect of #2) They turned out to be warts and I got rid of them by pressing them hard onto my skin.
16. I believe that human nature is essentially good, but at some point challenged by various personal experiences. Translating that to my relationship with people: I always look at the good side of a person, but leave some doubts about his/her personality at the back of my mind. Trusting safely, but not completely.
17. I can’t shop “properly” for myself when I have companions. I always think that I have to make them accomplish their purchases first and help them with those before I buy my own.
18. I am a loser when it comes to keeping track of my finances. If you borrow money from me, it is your responsibility to remember the amount, and it is your responsibility to pay me. Hehe.
19. I have always preferred being on backstage of the show rather than being in the limelight. By show I mean, any life event or situation. At some point I know I have to step up and show myself. But being behind the scene gives me a broader perspective of things and gives me more flexibility. It’s like being the guide on the side than being the sage on the stage.
20. I am an individual born to very generous parents. We are not materially-rich. But my parents emphasized through their actions that people always have something to offer besides money, to uplift other people’s lives.
21. I am a Cinema One fan! The truth is, I appreciate classic Filipino movies. But I hate this story line which most drama flicks had before: The bida was made to believe she was born to a wealthy and good-natured family, only to find out (after her debut: the right and legal age to know about a shocking truth) that she was a lovechild of a poor maid. She then rebels against her foster parents and searches for her true parents. That was actually irritating. It sent out a wrong message. But then, it happened to be the climax of the story. Oh well.
22. I have a knack for coming up with gift items made from scratch (i.e. from artsy bits and pieces I have at home). Hehe. Well nobody complained about them so far. Haha, now that you know, I guess you would no longer invite me to your birthday party. Waah!
23. I am not a competitive person if it’s just about me. This is something related to #19. But if people rely on me, then I tend to be.
24. Because most friends gave me key chains as souvenirs from places they went to, I was compelled to create a key chain collection. So if you happen to stop by anywhere, please send me an interesting one…friend.
25. I still carry a rosary in my pocket. I admit I don’t pray the rosary often, but somehow it has become my security blanket.
2. I love reading comics. My affair with those reading materials started with Filipino ones- Horoscope, Wakasan, Love Story, Happy, Funny, Bata Batuta. Then, when I learned to read, write and speak in English, I tried Archie comics. Then when I learned to face intellectual and moral issues, I tried Calvin and Hobbes. Oh yes, you can get serious education from comics.
3. I had once been on the headline page of the Today newspaper back in 1995. The front page had my sole photo wearing our beloved Paulinian attire, waving mini-Vatican paper flags. That was taken when Pope John Paul II was about to leave the country. I think we were singing…”Viva, viva, oh viva…” Hahaha! I kept that paper. Sadly, I can’t remember where.
4. When situations suck the life out of me, I clean my toenails. Seeing my toenails clean somehow resurrects me.
5. I initially wanted to become a nun. Then I changed my mind and wanted to become a teacher instead. I guess the idea of being a medical doctor was brought about by some peer and family pressure (at least not by my immediate family). My father would always tell me that he can’t afford to send me to medical school. I didn’t feel bad about that. I wondered, “How come I didn’t feel disappointed?” That’s when I realized that having an “M.D.” appended to my name was not one my greatest dreams. I gave it a thought too because my classmates and relatives encouraged me (and I still thank them for that), but the idea of being in charge of a person’s life somehow scared me. Now, I am working my way to becoming a doctor, but a different one this time.
6. It’s hard for me to sleep without a blanket, even during warm days/nights. It has to cover all parts of my body except my feet. I leave my feet exposed, as I feel suffocated if they are covered as well. Why not just uncover my head? Beats me. I don’t know why. I think I breathe through my feet.
7. People at home think I don’t eat a lot, but I do. I just have this feeling that at home, you share the food in the table, that’s why I am conscious as to how many pieces of chicken or pork chop I should place on my plate.
8. I am orally withdrawn, but uninhibited in writing. For some time, I hated my lack of spontaneity and responsiveness when communicating verbally. I admire those who manage to maintain good and fun conversations with people whom they just met.
9. I used to burp a lot and I burped aloud, at least around people who know me. In one case where I believe I got drunk, but still fully aware of what was happening- they said that I burped for like 60 times. My defense? At least the air came out of my mouth and not from another exit point, where it could have combined with some notorious gases.
10. I can make loud sounds by striking my tongue onto my palate. Back home, I used this sound to call Manong Sidecar instead of the traditional whistle.
11. I wear eyeglasses now. I still can’t stand wearing my prescription glasses so I wear contact lenses.
12. I am a White Flower junkie. White Flower Oil is a Chinese embrocation for aches and pains. It’s my upper for boring lectures/seminars or a counter-scent for unwanted odors. I know sooner or later this addiction would affect a certain body organ. Let’s wait and see.
13. I love tasting non-edible items for scientific pursuit. I’ve tasted acetone. I’ve tasted White Flower (see #12). I’ve tasted isopropyl alcohol. I’ve tasted some water from salt beds- didn’t care where the water came from. I just wanted to verify for myself that they indeed had salty substances.
14. I love toddlers. I believe they are easier to deal with than adults who have so many issues and pretensions.
15. I used to think I had superpowers! When I was younger (as in very young), I had two small skin outgrowths on my left hand which I thought were special and which caused me to have special skills. Why? Because I didn’t see those in other people’s hands! (This kind of thinking is a side effect of #2) They turned out to be warts and I got rid of them by pressing them hard onto my skin.
16. I believe that human nature is essentially good, but at some point challenged by various personal experiences. Translating that to my relationship with people: I always look at the good side of a person, but leave some doubts about his/her personality at the back of my mind. Trusting safely, but not completely.
17. I can’t shop “properly” for myself when I have companions. I always think that I have to make them accomplish their purchases first and help them with those before I buy my own.
18. I am a loser when it comes to keeping track of my finances. If you borrow money from me, it is your responsibility to remember the amount, and it is your responsibility to pay me. Hehe.
19. I have always preferred being on backstage of the show rather than being in the limelight. By show I mean, any life event or situation. At some point I know I have to step up and show myself. But being behind the scene gives me a broader perspective of things and gives me more flexibility. It’s like being the guide on the side than being the sage on the stage.
20. I am an individual born to very generous parents. We are not materially-rich. But my parents emphasized through their actions that people always have something to offer besides money, to uplift other people’s lives.
21. I am a Cinema One fan! The truth is, I appreciate classic Filipino movies. But I hate this story line which most drama flicks had before: The bida was made to believe she was born to a wealthy and good-natured family, only to find out (after her debut: the right and legal age to know about a shocking truth) that she was a lovechild of a poor maid. She then rebels against her foster parents and searches for her true parents. That was actually irritating. It sent out a wrong message. But then, it happened to be the climax of the story. Oh well.
22. I have a knack for coming up with gift items made from scratch (i.e. from artsy bits and pieces I have at home). Hehe. Well nobody complained about them so far. Haha, now that you know, I guess you would no longer invite me to your birthday party. Waah!
23. I am not a competitive person if it’s just about me. This is something related to #19. But if people rely on me, then I tend to be.
24. Because most friends gave me key chains as souvenirs from places they went to, I was compelled to create a key chain collection. So if you happen to stop by anywhere, please send me an interesting one…friend.
25. I still carry a rosary in my pocket. I admit I don’t pray the rosary often, but somehow it has become my security blanket.
SPRING CLEANING
The division labor in our apartment goes this way: Rockstar in charge of the weekly laundry and garbage disposal and I'm in charge of the monthly cleaning and weekly dishwashing (definitely not daily...for as long as we still have some dishes and utensils left, we leave the soiled ones pile up- hehe...hey, dishwashing soap can get expensive too...hehe). But March had been a very busy month for us and it was somehow hard to keep up with the regular schedule. And Mother Goose seemed to have a radar, for in her e-mail a week ago, she reminded me to clean the apartment! Hehe...mothers really know best. What do I expect? Back in UP, every time she visited my boarding house, she would often discover my electric fan with missing blades, as they were all covered with dust. That freaked her out. It's a good thing, we don't have fans here. Hehe. So I really have a bad reputation for keeping, even a very small room, sparkling clean.
So back to our apartment- we got a free carpet cleaning (just the carpet) by the end of March because we renewed our lease contract. Yey! I thought that would excuse me from my April cleaning duty. But then, the collections of dust, hair, paper bits, insects, etc. in the other areas of the house called my attention. So to make the story short, I heeded their call and tried to make the apartment conducive for human existence. And I was quite satisfied with my job. The only downside of cleaning is I often wanted to sleep after the job is done. It’s hard to resist the call of the fresh and sweet-smelling bed and pillow covers.
So, I did these house duties on a Black Saturday. Yes, it’s Holy Week by the way. I am missing the traditional, Pinas-style Holy Week. We still held classes and lab meetings Thursday and Friday of the said week. I managed to attend the masses though, for they were scheduled in the evenings. What I wasn’t able to do was to go to confession. This is the time of the year when I recall what I have done wrong and ask for God’s forgiveness. I know I can go to confession at any day during the whole year, but having missed this one led me to think if there was an alternative to asking for His forgiveness, at least at this moment. Then I realized, “Why not ask forgiveness from the people you’ve hurt or people you’ve instigated a fight with?”
-o0o-
In our Kasaysayan II (Asian History) class, our professor asked us to choose any book tackling relevant Asian events. One Saturday morning, I went to the Main Library to search for possible reading articles. I happened to see a thin book with glossy pages, much like a primer, telling the story behind the war between Israel and Palestine. As I was not really very enthusiastic about reading a book on Asian history, I thought I should borrow something which can be read quickly and of course something in full color to make reading enjoyable at least. It turned out that the book was worth-reading as it opened my eyes to never-ending struggles abroad. Our professor, who happened to be one of the feared personalities in the University, asked us to make a mini-book report during our in-class 2nd exam. He gave a good remark on my output, and coming from him- it made me think that I understood the text well and consequently, the motives and actions of each party for the continuing battle. In our Communication II class, we were asked by our professor to choose one topic we would write about for the rest of the semester. And as if I wanted to make my life miserable, I chose the issue about MILF and the government’s ongoing negotiations with the group. I chose the topic because the issue resurfaced that time. In addition, I knew I would have a lot of reference materials concerning the said topic. But it was a double-edged dagger. The numerous references available to create a well-researched paper would mean an in-depth reading of all the references, before I can sit down and actually write the paper. “Did I have the time?” was the major question I had in mind. This was just a general education subject. “Should I spend more time in this than the courses for my major?” This time, my professor was more demanding. I came up with “good enough” papers which my professor knew I could still improve further. The position paper was the most unforgettable one because it appeared that I did not really defend the side I was on. For some reasons I consolidated from my references, I supported our Muslim brothers. At the beginning of my write-up, I used the term “insurgents”. And my professor had a freaked-out comment, “How do you defend your position, when you yourself designate them as insurgents?!” And in the end, I somehow defended too the government. In short, there were things I did not understand. And the truth was, it was hard to decide which side to be on. I realized then that in war, there isn’t any gray area. It’s either black or white. And being the type of person who when asked to choose or decide, would usually say “it depends”, I knew I would not be able to live through war. Why didn’t I just write about simple matters? After all, the intricacy of the topic was not the one being tested in that course, but the writing skills. It was not about the grade, for I still got a satisfactory final mark. What bothered me was the realization about my deciding capabilities, which were revealed through my writing. Two years ago, I bought the book The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. It was a story, telling the journey for redemption-with settings spanning the Communist-occupied to the present-day Taliban-ruled Kabul in Afghanistan. I would say that that was one of the best books I’ve read. When the movie was shown in the Philippines, I never got the chance to see it. It was today, during the last day of spring break that I got to watch the film online. And all I could say is that it had all the necessary elements of an excellent film.
The three separate stories of battle in different places taught me that war is inevitable. People are different and clashes would take place once in a while. But how come they persist? I have asked many times before, “Why aren’t the authorities doing something?” It seemed so easy to initiate negotiations and come up with agreements which will benefit everyone. I always had the thought, “If I were the peace negotiator, I would have easily reunited these opposing forces.” I have always thought that people can forgive and forget- maybe because I perceive human nature as generally good. A year ago, reality bit me. It turned out that some wounds didn’t heal easily. I was caught in between two clashing individuals who were both my friends. It came to a point where I had to choose who to stick with. One of them made the decision not to communicate with me anymore, because of a sensitive condition that person was in at that time. I agreed. After some time, I tried to communicate with that person- hoping to patch things up, but to no avail. The other friend never intervened. I thought that in time, they will be okay. But now it appears that the most likely thing to happen is that mistakes will be forgiven but people will be forgotten. It was then that I began to understand the difficulty of bringing back people together. If I cannot initiate reconciliation between two persons, how much more among groups whose conflicts are deeply-rooted. It was also that year, when I got into an argument with somebody in defense of a friend and for upholding work ethics. I don’t know if I will ever get to speak with that person again. 2008 was the year when I had a share of enemies, with whom I never reconciled with. Oh, and I just remembered. There was also one person I’ve hurt three years ago. Again, I tried to make things okay again, but I failed.
-o0o-
In this lifetime, there will be always be people who would be hurt by our words or actions. Inasmuch as you want to make peace with them, you have no control of them or of the situations you are in. Inasmuch as you want to reunite people, sometimes you do not know the details…sometimes you have no idea of how bad the injuries were to both parties. So enemies remain as such and you just allow time to mend everything. I guess it works that way sometimes. But what I’ve realized was, I should not stop working our way towards reconciliation. I should not stop working my way towards my peace of mind. There were times that I gave up and just thought that maybe, at my deathbed we would all be at peace…maybe. It’s a continuous struggle, and that is part of being human. But what matters is realizing that there is a way to be good again (theme of The Kite Runner), at least in terms of making peace with other people. It may start with a simple “Sorry.” or “I forgive you.” or to the more meaningful “Let’s start anew.” And in the end I can say that I am satisfied with my job. And the call of the fresh and sweet-smelling relationships would be hard to resist.
HAPPY EASTER! =D
So back to our apartment- we got a free carpet cleaning (just the carpet) by the end of March because we renewed our lease contract. Yey! I thought that would excuse me from my April cleaning duty. But then, the collections of dust, hair, paper bits, insects, etc. in the other areas of the house called my attention. So to make the story short, I heeded their call and tried to make the apartment conducive for human existence. And I was quite satisfied with my job. The only downside of cleaning is I often wanted to sleep after the job is done. It’s hard to resist the call of the fresh and sweet-smelling bed and pillow covers.
So, I did these house duties on a Black Saturday. Yes, it’s Holy Week by the way. I am missing the traditional, Pinas-style Holy Week. We still held classes and lab meetings Thursday and Friday of the said week. I managed to attend the masses though, for they were scheduled in the evenings. What I wasn’t able to do was to go to confession. This is the time of the year when I recall what I have done wrong and ask for God’s forgiveness. I know I can go to confession at any day during the whole year, but having missed this one led me to think if there was an alternative to asking for His forgiveness, at least at this moment. Then I realized, “Why not ask forgiveness from the people you’ve hurt or people you’ve instigated a fight with?”
-o0o-
In our Kasaysayan II (Asian History) class, our professor asked us to choose any book tackling relevant Asian events. One Saturday morning, I went to the Main Library to search for possible reading articles. I happened to see a thin book with glossy pages, much like a primer, telling the story behind the war between Israel and Palestine. As I was not really very enthusiastic about reading a book on Asian history, I thought I should borrow something which can be read quickly and of course something in full color to make reading enjoyable at least. It turned out that the book was worth-reading as it opened my eyes to never-ending struggles abroad. Our professor, who happened to be one of the feared personalities in the University, asked us to make a mini-book report during our in-class 2nd exam. He gave a good remark on my output, and coming from him- it made me think that I understood the text well and consequently, the motives and actions of each party for the continuing battle. In our Communication II class, we were asked by our professor to choose one topic we would write about for the rest of the semester. And as if I wanted to make my life miserable, I chose the issue about MILF and the government’s ongoing negotiations with the group. I chose the topic because the issue resurfaced that time. In addition, I knew I would have a lot of reference materials concerning the said topic. But it was a double-edged dagger. The numerous references available to create a well-researched paper would mean an in-depth reading of all the references, before I can sit down and actually write the paper. “Did I have the time?” was the major question I had in mind. This was just a general education subject. “Should I spend more time in this than the courses for my major?” This time, my professor was more demanding. I came up with “good enough” papers which my professor knew I could still improve further. The position paper was the most unforgettable one because it appeared that I did not really defend the side I was on. For some reasons I consolidated from my references, I supported our Muslim brothers. At the beginning of my write-up, I used the term “insurgents”. And my professor had a freaked-out comment, “How do you defend your position, when you yourself designate them as insurgents?!” And in the end, I somehow defended too the government. In short, there were things I did not understand. And the truth was, it was hard to decide which side to be on. I realized then that in war, there isn’t any gray area. It’s either black or white. And being the type of person who when asked to choose or decide, would usually say “it depends”, I knew I would not be able to live through war. Why didn’t I just write about simple matters? After all, the intricacy of the topic was not the one being tested in that course, but the writing skills. It was not about the grade, for I still got a satisfactory final mark. What bothered me was the realization about my deciding capabilities, which were revealed through my writing. Two years ago, I bought the book The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. It was a story, telling the journey for redemption-with settings spanning the Communist-occupied to the present-day Taliban-ruled Kabul in Afghanistan. I would say that that was one of the best books I’ve read. When the movie was shown in the Philippines, I never got the chance to see it. It was today, during the last day of spring break that I got to watch the film online. And all I could say is that it had all the necessary elements of an excellent film.
The three separate stories of battle in different places taught me that war is inevitable. People are different and clashes would take place once in a while. But how come they persist? I have asked many times before, “Why aren’t the authorities doing something?” It seemed so easy to initiate negotiations and come up with agreements which will benefit everyone. I always had the thought, “If I were the peace negotiator, I would have easily reunited these opposing forces.” I have always thought that people can forgive and forget- maybe because I perceive human nature as generally good. A year ago, reality bit me. It turned out that some wounds didn’t heal easily. I was caught in between two clashing individuals who were both my friends. It came to a point where I had to choose who to stick with. One of them made the decision not to communicate with me anymore, because of a sensitive condition that person was in at that time. I agreed. After some time, I tried to communicate with that person- hoping to patch things up, but to no avail. The other friend never intervened. I thought that in time, they will be okay. But now it appears that the most likely thing to happen is that mistakes will be forgiven but people will be forgotten. It was then that I began to understand the difficulty of bringing back people together. If I cannot initiate reconciliation between two persons, how much more among groups whose conflicts are deeply-rooted. It was also that year, when I got into an argument with somebody in defense of a friend and for upholding work ethics. I don’t know if I will ever get to speak with that person again. 2008 was the year when I had a share of enemies, with whom I never reconciled with. Oh, and I just remembered. There was also one person I’ve hurt three years ago. Again, I tried to make things okay again, but I failed.
-o0o-
In this lifetime, there will be always be people who would be hurt by our words or actions. Inasmuch as you want to make peace with them, you have no control of them or of the situations you are in. Inasmuch as you want to reunite people, sometimes you do not know the details…sometimes you have no idea of how bad the injuries were to both parties. So enemies remain as such and you just allow time to mend everything. I guess it works that way sometimes. But what I’ve realized was, I should not stop working our way towards reconciliation. I should not stop working my way towards my peace of mind. There were times that I gave up and just thought that maybe, at my deathbed we would all be at peace…maybe. It’s a continuous struggle, and that is part of being human. But what matters is realizing that there is a way to be good again (theme of The Kite Runner), at least in terms of making peace with other people. It may start with a simple “Sorry.” or “I forgive you.” or to the more meaningful “Let’s start anew.” And in the end I can say that I am satisfied with my job. And the call of the fresh and sweet-smelling relationships would be hard to resist.
HAPPY EASTER! =D
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