To be honest, right now, I still have trouble believing it.

He's one of the first people you'll get to know in Zobel. He's also one of those rare people who have so many stories to tell, and at least one of these stories is sure to drive a point home into your heart.

Just last night, I was telling Joey how the Lasallian brothers have started being active in sociopolitical issues. Most of these brothers are relatively young ones, but Brother Ceci is one of the exceptions. He is a self-proclaimed Jun Lozada fan, and aside from hundreds of photos, he also posts editorials on political issues on his Multiply site.

Just a couple of weeks ago, I had my first and only personal talk with him. The Zobel faculty, staff and administration were in Batangas for the annual institutional outing. We teachers had been fooling around, playing games and singing videoke. I can remember how he enjoyed that day. He was snapping pictures of us who were pretending to do a videoke showdown of sorts and laughing as he showed us the pictures of those who'd been watching.

In the midst of all the fun, he called me and set me aside. He asked me if I had some vocal training, and I told him about singing in choirs and training with the UP Concert Chorus in college. He gave me the sort of smile which said, "Ah, kaya pala." And he told me that he'd noticed me singing in the faculty awards ceremony just a few days before, in the faculty concert and in Grease. "You really stood out. Kakaiba ang stage presence mo."

He might have told me to keep it up; what I remember most, though, is how he put a hand on top my head and smiled. I remember grinning all the time, and I just...felt so blessed and proud of myself then.

Like me, many people from Zobel and other Lasallian schools each has a personal story about him to tell. God knows the impact he's had into each life he has enriched. We who have been touched by him will never forget him.

I guess to honor his memory, we should also never forget how he loved Zobel, the Lasallian community, and most especially, his country. On reposting news about the Con-Ass, he asked, "Anung gagawin mo, Lasalyano?" I can't help but think that he left that challenge for us -- to look beyond ourselves and to look outward instead -- and that as we face the challenge, he'll be watching us, and he'll be smiling.

Kapag naisip ko bigla na mali ang naituro ko sa klase ko, hindi na ako makakatulog ng maayos ng ilang gabi. O 'di kaya kapag napagalitan ko ang isang bata o ang klase ko ng todo-todo. Iniisip ko lagi kung anong pwede kong gawin para maiayos ang pagkakamali ko.

'Yun kayang nakakuha (o nagnakaw?) ng cellphone ko at hindi nagsauli, makakatulog kaya ngayong gabi ng hindi iniisip kung ilang kakilala at kaibigan ko ang hindi ko na makakausap muli kailanman?

'Yun kayang mga kongresistang tumatanggap ng brown paper bag na may lamang tseke dahil sa pagboto nila ng oo para sa Con-Ass, nakakatulog ng mahimbing ng hindi iniisip na sa korupsyon napupunta ang pera ng mga Pilipinong tapat na nagbabayad ng kanilang buwis, gaano man kalaki, bawat buwan?

'Yun kayang nagpapapatay ng mga kalaban sa pulitika na nagiging senador pa, nakakatulog pa sa gabi at hindi kinakalabit ng konsiyensya niya?

'Yun kayang pangulo ng Pilipinas, marunong pang matulog?



*Based on a conversation with Joey. May copyright? :p

Technology's really great. Really. I mean it hit me a couple of months back when I was playing Facebook UNO with people from Brazil, Australia, Greece and others. And then I discovered Twitter, which I didn't get into at first, but which I realize now is probably the most powerful site on the web right now.

I'd thought it was silly updating everyone hourly with what's happening to you -- self-promotion, much? -- and that it's pretty much like Plurk* in that sense. But then I discovered the trending topics, and so I regularly check updates on #conass and #IranElection.

Right now I'm getting real-time updates from Twitters in Tehran, and everybody on #IranElection is basically clamoring for CNN to cover the elections since they've learned more about it over Twitter than on TV. And here you see how powerful a tool it is when you need frequent updates on an important event happening right now, at this very moment. The whole world is thus watching the events unfold. The whole world is shocked out of indifference when someone in Tehran gets teargas in his eyes. Telecom services have been apparently down in Tehran since the eve of the elections -- everyone knows the power of technology here. And we here in the Philippines who've been watching know that we should not let this happen to us next year.

* * *
On other news, FIRST DAY OF CLASSES TOMORROW! And I have this urge to let out a primal scream to say goodbye to one of the most awesome summers I've ever had, and to welcome the very hazy-looking year ahead.

*By the way, I don't Plurk nowadays, and I've been thinking of deleting my account there.

Feeling proud again of two former students of mine.

RP youth still hopeful on science

Angeli Joyce Yap-Dy, Jovani Tomale, Kevin Jer David and Orven Jules Dumaoang won in the recent Intel ISEF in Nevada, USA. Yap-Dy and Tomale were second place awardees for the Special Award division while David and Dumaoang won the higher Grand Award division.

[...] David and Dumaoang, both from the Philippine Science High School in Quezon City, also worked on creating an antibacterial compound, just like Yap-Dy’s milkfish bile. But instead of creating a compound that killed bacteria, David and Dumaoang went further and targeted the bacteria’s ability to communicate.

“Bacteria have the ability to group together, which makes them stronger. By inducing a quorum sensing inhibitor compound to confuse them, they are unable to communicate and thus organize an attack,” David said.

Say what? haha. Holy cow. Just reading about their experiment is giving me a bad nosebleed!

Congrats to Jer and OJ! Really amazing feat.

Teaching is a noble profession, if not the noblest of all. That's what I hear all the time. That's what's painted on walls of public schools -- to paraphrase: "Be proud you are a teacher. You hold the future in your hands." Then again, I sense hypocrisy in the way the profession is treated. The smartest kids in the family would be groomed to become doctors and lawyers, whereas the not-so-brilliant child would be enrolled in an Education course. Teachers get a lot of cr*p from parents who don't know any better; sadly, there still are a few who seem to treat teachers as people who get "paid" to teach their kids. And, heck, if our profession is so great, then public school teachers shouldn't be so overworked and underpaid. It's no wonder education graduates go abroad and work as teachers, caregivers, or even nannies there. The shortage of teachers isn't that bad; it's just that a lot of board passers do not practice their profession in this country. (And I say this, again, to our government officials: please increase the salary of public school teachers instead of summoning Hayden Kho and Katrina Halili to the Senate, dammit.)

I think this sort of hypocrisy is more evident in the way male teachers are looked upon by society. Again, they're considered to be doing a noble job of "educating minds and touching hearts," but attitudes towards them show a different thing. I've heard stories from quite a few male teachers and friends about how they've been dissuaded from taking up education by their family. "Magtuturo ka lang?" "Sayang ang talino mo!" And so forth. There are those who have been accused by their wives' or girlfriends' families of not being "special" enough or of not having such a rank in society that, say, a lawyer or a college professor has.

True, it probably has a lot to do with the fact that teachers aren't paid that well, or that most of us do not have a degree beyond our bachelor's. But, in my very humble opinion, male teachers are really awesome. The male teachers I'm close to are the smartest, funniest, most talented and most understanding guys I've ever known. They're full of charisma and they have superior communication skills. (I just sounded like our teacher evaluation form.) If guys are stereotypically insensitive to what you're feeling, then male teachers are an exception, for they have an almost feminine intuition on what someone is feeling at a certain moment. I bet it has a lot to do with dealing with kids or teenagers; they grow to be full of insights and to have heaps of patience. Not to mention that a number of them are cute. And the way these cute male teachers deal with stalkers, female and male alike, is simply admirable. haha.

Seriously, these guys deserve more credit. If you girls are looking for a guy, heck, look for a teacher! (Look at what I did! haha!) And as for my guy friends who are also teachers (and who can sense that I'm talking about them, specifically), and for all other teachers who've been let down by others, let's not be bothered by what society says about us, because really, we're awesome, and we rock. \m/

I learned this the hard way: You can't bring out P10,000 worth of peso bills or $10,000 worth of money in any currency. What I'd done was to bring more than P10,000 as I was told that I could get my money changed here. Also, apparently, Singapore customs question tourists (specifically Filipinos and Thais) who bring in only a little amount of money, accusing them of getting ready to work illegally here -- I got this off a blog which I'll try to look for later. So I brought enough.

But when we went through Philippine customs on our departure date, I was asked how much money I brought. And when I gave the amount, I was shown to this big guy whose front shirt was unbuttoned to show an undershirt under which his belly strained. Tita May came with me.

"O, bakit ka pinadala dito?"

I told him.

"Sige, ipaliwanag mo kung bakit ganun ang dala mo. Gandahan mo ang paliwanag mo ha, dapat magustuhan ko 'yan."

Jerk. I told him again the obvious reason why I brought that amount (P10,000 is worth nothing in SG if you plan on staying for two weeks) and what SG customs do if you bring only a little amount of money.

"Pakibasa nga 'to." He gave me a folded up document on which the rules about bringing money out of the country was written.

Okay, I was wrong. So I told him that it doesn't make sense to bring less than P10,000 to Singapore; how would I be able to shop? I was also about to tell him that I could go back outside immigration to change my money to Singaporean dollars when he said, "Wala akong pakialam kung ano yung rules sa Singapore, sinasabi ko lang ang rule dito sa Pilipinas."

"Well I'm sorry, I wasn't aware of this rule." Napa-English ang lola. "I'm just going to get my money changed, okay lang po?"

And he gave me the document again and said, "Pakibasa nga ulit, naintindihan mo ba ang binasa mo?"

I looked at Tita May, mouthed the mother of Filipino cuss words, and read again: if you bring more than P10,000, the money will be confiscated by customs.

The first thing on my mind was that I was going to be duped out of my money, and looking at this guy, I wouldn't put it past him. The second thing was that I would never give him my money. Incredulously I said, "So you're just going to confiscate it?"

"Andito nga, naintindihan mo ba ang binasa mo? Pinipigilan lang namin yung money laundering kaya kami may rules."

"Mukha ba akong mag-mo-money launder?" I said exasperatedly. "Sasabihin ko bang Pxx,000 ang dala ko kung i-la-launder ko 'yan? Ipanggagastos ko lang yan sa Singapore!"

"Wala nga kaong pakialam kung ano ang sabi sa Singapore, basta dito ito yung rules."

"Sige po, anong pwede kong gawin?"

"Eh dapat pag ganito eh i-de-detain ka."

Aba, nanakot ang gago. I couldn't believe the lengths people in power go to to dupe people out of their money! He was not talking reasonably. Sarado talaga ang isip sa paliwanag. Mukha tuloy syang tanga. "Papapalitan ko na nga lang po, pwede naman yun di ba?"

He looked daggers at me for a long time. "O sige. Ipakita mo sa akin ang resibo ha?"

I'm just glad I was made of stronger stuff; I would've probably cowered under such questioning if I weren't. So I went and got my money changed. I told the girl in the counter about the rule, and she said, "Nauubusan po kasi tayo ng piso."

Ah. That cleared things up.

I went back and gave the receipt to the customs guy. He looked at it, said, "Next time ha, wag kang magdadala ng ten thousand. Wag matigas ang ulo ha?"

I don't even remember being bone-headed. I told him, "May I make a suggestion? Sana rin po irespeto nyo ang mga pasahero."

"Ay hindi, nagpapaliwanag lang --"

"Hindi, yung pakikipag-usap nyo sa akin eh." And I walked out. (I would've said more, but I wanted to go to Singapore badly and I didn't want to risk it. haha.)

When I looked back, I saw him talking to another customs officer, staring daggers at me. I stared back till we turned the corner to the boarding areas.

Greetings from Singapore lah! :D I've been here since yesterday midnight and already I've seen so many fantastic things. I've been on a cable car (for the first time in my life), seen their Underwater World (a bigger version of Manila Ocean Park, and it has an octopus and a dugong!) and swam in the pool of this condo unit where my uncle resides. I'm staying here with his family and relatives. It's so clean here; I wonder if OC-ness is ingrained in every person.

But before all these, I had a confrontation with a customs officer in the Philippines, which is ironic because I'd been afraid I'd get in trouble with Singaporean customs.

Let me tell you about that later as I'm afraid we ought to be somewhere else right now! :))

Di na sya cute, baduy, o kumakanta ng "Walang Sabit". Girl band na sya. Hip-hop. Maganda sya ha.

Damn, this tune is going to stay in my head all night.

We Should Talk about This Problem
Hafiz

There is a Beautiful Creature
Living in a hole you have dug.

So at night
I set fruit and grains
And little pots of wine and milk
Beside your soft earthen mounds,

And I often sing.

But still, my dear,
You do not come out.

I have fallen in love with Someone
Who hides inside you.

We should talk about this problem--

Otherwise,
I will never leave you alone.

It's the end of March and there are no more students gracing the hallowed halls of Zobel -- save for the unlucky few who are taking remedial classes. But since I'm not handling remedial classes, I've been very idle. I still have a pile of work, actually, but I need to jumpstart myself to get myself working again. Obviously, that hasn't happened lately. But let me tell you what I do in school nowadays.

Almost every morning, I attend Mass in the new Zobel chapel. Sometimes I'm also involved in the service. Afterwards, it's breakfast time. A couple of times, we've even made breakfast for everyone. Last week, Emong, May and I made pizza on loaf bread, with sardines and cheese as toppings. (It was a Friday.) Yesterday, Emong and I prepared California maki and kani salad. Everyone learned how to prepare maki, which was eaten in the blink of an eye.

The rest of the day is made up of meetings (when we're called), little silly non-work-related projects, playing the guitar, preparing our portfolio, planning our level outing, snacking and chatting the day away. And then, twice a week, we have (free!) swimming lessons in the school pool after working hours. I guess that's my way of burning all that I eat during the day.

I do love this part of the year.

Thanks to Benj for this really cool video of SF '08-'09.

Link

P.S. "Adviser," ha?

This came with a disclaimer of sorts, that while I'm the master of Anglo-American literature and writing IN CLASS, some of my students write better than I do. Still, I wrote this, which embarrassed me a bit (I even had to use another poet's opening lines, geez). And I showed it to my Sophomore F on the last day of classes.

For S-F
(with apologies to E.E. Cummings)

I carry you in my heart—
and your names on index cards.
I keep your 37 names
and the names and numbers of those who truly
own you.

I carry you in my head—
and your faces grim or grinning.
You cause both its constant pounding
and its knack for learning about you
too much. Too much.

Now the time has come when I have to
keep your names in a shoebox
and let new girls and boys’ names
flood my memories of you.
Your names will be yellowed in time

and you will grow farther and farther
away
from me

till only the good memories
and your fragile young souls
remain in my head
and are enclosed in
my heart.

Last day of finals tomorrow! *dances*

I just love those moments when I pass by a bookstore, say A Different Bookstore, and find a copy of Borges' Selected Poems at 50% discount, and I just grab it and feel so proud of myself. :D

Oh, and to that person who borrowed my copy of The Shadow of the Wind</>, if you're reading this -- I don't remember who you are, but could you please give me my favorite book back? Thank you :D

The foundations of the original Globe Theater were found by archaeologists! This makes my Shakespeare-geeky heart smile.

* * *
My dog Clark nudges my hand -- again and again, if he has to -- just so I would scratch him on the head and behind his ears. He anticipates it whenever I arrive home. If this isn't love, I don't know what is. :D


My crazy, crazy dog.

* * *
Summer plans. I need summer plans.

Friday the 13th is D-Day.

And it's cramming time. Will be late again for grade submission. With good reason. I think.

I might have a writing gig this summer. Possibly two. I'm not really sure. The future looks hazy.

There's a reason why I don't have a best friend.

First, I'm averse to expectations. I don't like it when I'm expected to be with a certain someone -- and no one else -- at every moment of the day. I don't like being expected to tell the "best friend" every secret I have or where I am or what I'm doing. Sometimes it would feel like an obligation. Sometimes.

Likewise, I dislike expecting people to do things for me, like being there on moments that are important to me, or helping me out when I'm stuck in a rut. It only hurts when they don't deliver, and of course I'd rather not get hurt.

I have several close friends, though. I have several circles of friends, actually. Some circles I can say I'm close to; some, not so much. I'm happy to say that I've found friends who are really awesome, who are there for me in my successes and defeats, who always listen to me whether I rave or vent. I'm also happy to say that they give me space when I need it.

A month ago, I asked my students to compose a sonnet. This, as expected, was met by groans of "Miss, it's hard!"

True, it's hard. When I was in high school, though, I found it easier, as I wasn't tied down by literary techniques and criticism; I just wrote what I felt and what sounded good. I look at them now and squirm -- they're not good; what do you expect from a lovestruck poetry-writing teen with no background on poetics? -- but I'm posting them here just to show you kids how easy it is at your age.

My point, of course, is -- WRITE! While you're young and idealistic and carefree! It will hone your talent should you decide to continue writing in the future.

( And here be my poems written when I was 15-16 years old. )

Damn. I've NEVER tried buying a lottery ticket before, but knowing that the pot has hit P288 million -- who wouldn't be tempted, right? If I won the lottery, I really wouldn't know what to do with half of it, but because dreaming is free, I would...

• get myself and my brothers an insurance.
• pay my sort-of debts.
• build a suburban house here in the city. One with a library, a big bathtub, around four bedrooms, a flower and vegetable garden, and a big grassy backyard.
• build a beautiful vacation house by the beach.
• also build a small beach resort in some quiet place.
• build my parents a house with a garden.
• set up a restaurant for my mom.
• buy a Jollibee, Krispy Kreme, and/or a Starbucks franchise.
• get shares in Fully Booked. XD
• give my parents and brothers an around-the-world vacation.
• buy a car or two, and another one for my parents. (No to luxury cars though; I want a car that I can use anywhere and not worry about scratch marks too much.)
• tour the Philippines and the world -- even Antarctica, if possible.
• stay in New York for a while to see all those Broadway musicals.
• buy an iPod, clothes and shoes. (No to designer clothes though; I don't think I'll ever understand them.)
• keep some money for a laptop (but not till Maxi* is laid to rest)
• renew my gym membership. XD
• donate a big amount to charity and causes involving literacy, education, housing, and the environment.
• grant scholarships to deserving high school students and graduates.
• grant scholarships to education majors.
• donate to public schools -- build school buildings, classrooms, laboratories and libraries; buy books, school materials, projectors, computers, laptops, musical instruments, chairs and tables; and give monetary rewards to the outstanding teachers.
• start a foundation or a non-profit organization that encourages students to read and write.
• start a research chair on Philippine prehistory
• renovate the UP Kamia Residence Hall (specifically its water supply and drainage system :-)
• bank the rest and live off the interest.

I could get all these and probably not spend more than 1/2 of the money. Wow.

* * *

*Maxi. My poor hardworking Celeron M laptop. Still working like a champ although its hard drives are crammed and it gets too slow even when only two programs are opened. I still love it, though, and won't exchange it for the world. Part of it was a gift from my aunt and uncle, and I used my salary for eight months for the rest of it. We've also been through a lot, and I think I will cry when it dies. (I hope it'll live for a couple more years, though. XD)

Hangga't marami ang lugmok sa kahirapan
At ang hustisya ay para lang sa mayaman
...
Habang may tatsulok at sila ang nasa tuktok
Di matatapos itong gulo
...
Totoy kumilos ka, baliktarin ang tatsulok
Tulad ng dukha, nailagay mo sa tuktok...

And so I conclude that what happened in the UP Fair last night was not the fault of the number 13, but Bamboo's.

Kidding aside, "Tatsulok" was the last performance in last night's Loverage 3, and it wouldn't have been the last had the jologs (or the Jumping Jologs, or the Orcs, as they're called every UP Fair Week) not battered the galvanized iron sheets (yero) serving as fences around the grounds. The song was that...empowering, I guess. The shame. The organizers had to pause the program a few times, and then this happened. In the end, they just cancelled the rest of the program, and the thousands of people who came to watch all went home distressed, fuming, and/or really really bummed out.

Here's the news report this morning: http://www.gmanews.tv/video/36610/Riot-sumiklab-sa-Pre-Valentine

I'd wanted to relive the good old UP Fair days of watching Rivermaya, Sugarfree, Bamboo, Kamikazee, Orange and Lemons, MYMP and even Jay-R (haha!). And yes, I expected the jologs; I'd encountered their mosh pit during one Bamboo performance. But it was relatively peaceful the last time I went to the fair; it was in 2006, the first Loverage event and also the night before Valentine's Day, and the presence of bouncers everywhere was really imposing. I thought everything would go well last night. But, upon seeing those long queues (ending past Econ or probably Law on one side, and past the AS Parking Lot on the other), I should have preempted everything else that would happen later on.

Joey and I decided to let the queues whittle down, but when it hadn't yet, even by 10:30 PM, I asked my brother Yam for our tickets and we joined in the queue. But when we hadn't yet gotten in by the time Bamboo started performing -- this was past midnight -- we decided to give up and just watch the fair from outside.

And then these kids came. Sadly, the kids were the first who started ramming themselves and kicking at the yero during that Bamboo number. And then there were more, teenagers too I guess, and they apparently used the cobblestones being used to repair the Academic Oval sidewalks. By this time we were already inside the fair grounds (yes, the queue was gone, I thought that everything would sort itself out by the next performance, and I was really persistently stupid).

I couldn't see the jologs come in, but like an army of orcs entering Helm's Deep, they made their presence felt, as the droves of people who'd been enjoying the fair started pressing against us and backing off towards the exit. (Also, the jologs started raising their fist, rakenrol style like this: \m/ [haha] and holding up their emo teddy bears.) THANK GOD everyone didn't start running or else we'd be seeing another stampede in the morning papers. I was really scared then, but I was mostly kicking myself in the head for being stupid enough to enter the fair grounds even when everything started to go awry. The poor hosts (hi Danes :D), they were probably scared out of their wits too, for no one in his right mind would tell the jologs to "behave" while telling everyone else where the exit was.

I was texting my brother, who was backstage, and then he told me we should go home since they finally cancelled the event. (I told him that I shouldn't pay for our tickets anymore, but heck, he's my younger brother, so I paid him anyway.) There was clearly a lack of security, or at the very least, security which should have been there way earlier, when the crowd was beginning to swell crazily.

I just find it ironic how much I (and most of those who were watching last night, I'm sure) loved the song "Tatsulok" when we were all going to condemn those who are at the bottom of that triangle later on -- and for good reason. The (lack of?) rationale behind trying to get inside the fair grounds and ramming the barricades in the process is way beyond us. It could've been a gang thing, something about doing it for the heck of it. (See, I can't even wrap my mind around it.) Clearly, they wanted to watch but have no money to, and stirring up confusion was probably one way of getting around that. But even that does not stir up anyone's sympathy. UP students (and alumni like me), known for advancing the rights of the poor and understanding their plights, are suddenly at odds.

Times like these, I grieve for the sheer hopelessness of it all.

* * *
Valentine's Day truly is a marketing ploy of all these commercial establishments. I splurged today on books of love poetry and fiction. Ugh. I am disgusting. And Joey has been very encouraging, damn him. He was bitten by the Valentine's bug too as he bought a bouquet for me.

Of all the stars I admired, drenched
in various rivers and mists,
I chose only the one I love.
Since then I sleep with the night.

- Pablo Neruda

:-)

From Zits Comics, here's a sadly true observation.