Understanding Veronika

How would you react to a book whose title is, Veronika Decides to Die? It was written by one of the most successful authors of all time (based on the millions of copies of his work sold). It had been said that his works have changed a lot of people, hopefully for the better. So for those who are not familiar with the book, let me introduce its author, Paulo Coelho. Now, ring a bell?

Book fanatics (like me) probably have heard of him or have actually read his novels. Yes, they are considered novels although P.C. certainly does not make his' the same way other novelists write theirs. You will have the same conclusion once you have read any of his works.

A week ago, I came across his work, Veronika Decides to Die. It was among the books sent by my sister. I am no fan of P.C. Last Christmas, I was given a book of his, entitled, The Devil and Ms. Prym. I only finished two chapters before finally deciding that I don't understand what the whole thing was about.

So reading this one, about Veronika, was not about the author. It was the title that caught my attention. And in a way, maybe I wanted to see whether I had been wrong in judging P.C. very badly because of the other novel.

Had I been wrong? I couldn't say yet because I have not finished reading the story of Veronika. At least I finished three chapters this time.

I have not yet come to fully (or even slightly) appreciate the art of P.C., which means that in time, I will. Of course I have to make an effort to understand him and his style. But that could wait. For now, I will first understand Veronika...

Veronika decides to die for the following reasons (verbatim, as written by the author):

She believed herself to be completely normal. Two very simple reasons lay behind her decision to die, and she were sure that, were she to leave a note explaining, many people will agree with her.

The first reason: Everything in her life was the same and, once her youth was gone, it would be downhill all the way, with old age beginning to leave irreversible marks, the onset of illness, the departure of friends. She would gain nothing by continuing to live; indeed, the likelihood of suffering would only increase.

The second reason was more philosophical: Veronika read the newspapers, watched tv, and she was aware of what was going on in the world. Everything was wrong, and she had no way of putting things right - that gave her a sense of complete powerlessness.

I do not agree with her. Veronika failed to accept and understand that the world is not without flaws... It's imperfections allow us to have a life, to make decisions, to learn, to grow. If everything is handed to us, we will not come to appreciate life and all the blessings we have. How meaningless everything would be. We'd be robots. If one is born rich, it does not mean that life will be better for him/her; and it also doesn't follow that if you had been born poor, life would be miserable. We are the ones who will fulfill our destiny, not the riches or the burdens we were born with.

Did Veronika die? She was supposed to die of overdose but was unsuccessful. She was brought to a mental hospital where she was charged as crazy. But Veronika was persistent. She was firm on wanting to die. If further efforts were successful, I do not know yet.

Truly, Veronica and I do not agree on a lot of things. I could refute her arguments and give pages of rebuttals. But I won't even try. I admit that while reading the book, I was overwhelmed. Had there been someone with me at the time, he/she would have witnessed a one-sided heated debate - one that is against Veronika, who could not answer back.

And now, days after the encounter with Veronika, I am ready to accept that the story of Veronika is a reflection of life. Yes, we are different. That doesn't make me or her right though. And if I were not to judge, who will? Or maybe, she must not be judged at all.

..

Remembering Macky

Before anyone gets worried sick about Macky, I'd like to make it clear that nothing bad happened to him. We have the tendency to think of the worst when stories of remembering someone is heard.

My first encounter with Macky was when I went to a groupmate's (Jhaz') house more than a year ago to prepare for our Accounting 85 presentation. He was running and was being pursued by the house helper, for Macky did not want to take his bath. The Japanese spitz was hard to catch.

This is not yet the Macky my friend, mind you, but the very first Macky I came to know.

Actually, I met Macky the person some years ago. We were both in the leaders' circle in school. But I never really got the chance to work with him until two years ago. He was known to me then as Francis Rey. Then how come he was nicknamed Macky?! Wow, and I consider 'us' to be friends but I never bothered to ask.

He became known to me as Macky only a year ago and it was then that we became friends. So I'd say, I met 'Macky, my friend' only then. I hope I am making sense...

Why am I talking about Macky? Don't know.. I just feel like doing so at this moment. Macky is an interesting character and he is the most suitable friend to feature. My betsfriend Kris hopefully will not take offense. This is not really about friendship levels. Anyway, Kris in a way is a part of the story of Macky and me..

Imagine, while we were in the process of making the yearbook (I am the EIC, Macky is Associate Editor), Macky tried to take away my bestfriend (also a staff) away from me!!! But my bestfriend is loyal, well, hopefully. I am not really sure if Kris was tempted to change bestfriends. It would have been convenient for him because Macky would play the role better. I have not been the best bestfriend, but Kris had been the best (the story of him may come later)!! But in the end, of course Macky realized that I will always be Kris' best bud forever (bbf!!). The three of us remained friends.

.

The making of the yearbook had been very long. There were inefficiences and sadly, most of which can be pointed back to me. The staff were identified late, the activities were conducted late and everything was done late. And where in all of these is Macky? Well, he made everything easier and better. When all else failed and people were starting to point fingers and curse, I sometimes hid and let him face it all. He was a willing scapegoat. It was a VOX-joke that if anything wrong should happen, Macky would have to be the one behind it (even though he really wasn't). And Macky never complained...

.

The bottom line in the story of Macky is that he is the most loyal friend one could have, to the point that he becomes a martyr. So yes, we had been cruel at times to him (and his dignity) but we surely appreciate everything he's done for us. He will always be remembered as a true friend.

So where is Macky now!? He is supposed to be living the Makati-dream, working for a company there as an IT consultant, staff of whatever. And a true friend that he is, he texts once in a while (at least once in two days), saying the same things he used to say when we were still in college, 'Doncha forget to eat ur breakfast, lunch and dinner.' Now, there is an addition, 'I'm signing off. Just finished work.' And this message is received usually at 12 midnight to 4 am.... So nothing much has really changed. Macky is still a martyr, working until the wee hours of the morning.

Miss u much Mack!!!! Mwaash........

At this very moment, I received a text message from my loved friend, 'OT nanaman!!!'.......

.

On Books

While it was not my intention to write about Manny, I had every intention to get this through....

My sister will leave for Gibraltar (to work) on July 2 so she had to part with her precious acquisitions with not much choice. She is only allowed to carry 20 kilos so she has to bring only the necessities. And among the many things shipped back to our house in GenSan is her most-valued collection of books, product of two years' labor in an auditing firm in Makati.

Books are the most essential and important of all the material things in the life of my sister. I remember when we were young, both in grade school, she would buy Sweet Valley, Baby Sitters' Club, Goosebumps and the likes for around P100.00 each at Kimball. That amount was like a week's allowance at the time. She always found ways to support this addiction.

And while she was expanding her collection, I was secretly taking (stealing?) books then so that I could support my own whims. And how? I sold the books to a bookshop near Kimball for P30-40. I did not really care about the difference. I'm not sure if she learned of this. Well, I was away for a year after graduation in elementary and when I came back, I did not have to sell books to have money. I found other ways (legal). I engaged in some small ventures.

I was more excited than ever to go home last Friday so that I could rummage the goods she sent. I did not and do not care much about her clear instruction that I could take all her clothes but not the books. Come on, what good are those clothes when my sister is so much larger than me. She justifies her big body by blaming the hormones.... Hehe.

Anyway, I was not disappointed. I saw books of my favorite authors. John Grisham, Ken Follet, Dan Brown, Robert Ludlum and more. She sent more than 50, but only half of them are novels. The other half are inspirational books - on love, life and body. Yes, body. My sister must finally have gotten conscious of her size...

While I was not disappointed, I held some of the books with not much happiness. I don't think that they are worth the hundreds of pesos she spent for each. Each costs P200-P350. I'm not against inspirational books, which others might consider eye-openers. But I'm no fan. On my birthday two years ago, Ate sent me a copy of Boy Meets Girl and in another occasion, sent me I Kissed Dating Goodbye. Instead of thanking her, I scowled and was unappreciative. I appreciate the act, really, but not the product. And I don't know where those books are right now. I'm not into having boyfriends but I found some of the author's statements righteous and judgmental. He was like giving a sermon about relationships, assuming that everyone feels the same way he does or believes in the same principles.

Last Christmas, she gave me a book by Paulo Coelho, entitled The Devil and Ms. Prym. It was written in the cover that he is best-selling author (every author claims that). I read the first two chapters and decided that I was not getting what the author was trying to say. There were only two characters in the story (as of the last page I've read). The book was written in English but P.C. must have been giving a different meaning to the words he used. I gave up and let her take back the book, otherwise, I'd find a way to dispose of it.

I thought then that she must have made a mistake on giving good reviews for the book (last Christmas). And to my surprise, I saw four more books of Coelho on her package! She must really like him.

So among the many books I could have chosen to read first last Friday night, I decided to give P.C. a chance. And I chose the one with the most interesting title, Veronica Decides to Die. I had raised eyebrows upon seeing the title (the story of Veronica will be told in the next post). This time, I read three chapters before throwing the book. Don't worry sis, I threw it just on the floor. I've had enough of Coelho. I deserve better so I went on for Dan Brown's Digital Fortress. Hah, how good to read a real novel.

The next day, when she called, I gave her a long monologue (which did not remain to be a monologue for she responded), complaining about my second bad P.C. experience. I gave her and the author some insulting remarks.

And what did I get from her?
* a laugh, because, again, I am so affected by this thing;
* great reviews of the book and of the many other works of P.C., including The Alchemist, her most favorite; and
* an advice to stop insulting the author because I will find enemies in doing such. For apparently, Coelho is 'only' the second author to J.K. Rowling in the number of books sold.

I must have overreacted. The problem is not P.C. It must be me. I let impatience and lack of literary appreciation prevail. So what if P.C. does not write his novels the conventional way? Because he certainly does not. Imagine, he even found a way to feature himself in the novel! Yes, inside the book, in connection to the story of Veronica..... He is really different. But maybe, that characteristic makes him great and loved and appreciated by many readers.

As for me? When I'm done with the more conventional books I enjoy reading, I will go back to Coelho. Maybe by that time, I would not be as close-minded. And maybe then, I will come to understand his language.

Manny Did It Again

I never intended to write about Manny Pacquiao. I have only heard of his fight against Diaz yesterday so I was not exactly attached to this fight.

By the way, who is Diaz? I'm not a fan of boxing; but I am a Filipino, a General and for that, I am a supporter of Manny.

In Manny Pacquiao's former bouts, I was among the many Filipinos who stayed put at home (or anywhere with tv) and did nothing else but wait for the fight, watch it, rejoice and later watch interviews with him, Jinky and the famous mother. I did not plan to do all those today. And I didn't.

I made a promise to myself that I will not watch the game because it would consume so much energy. The fight may just be an hour but the hangover is long. I still got papers to check and a laundry crisis to settle. I haven't washed a single blouse and house clothes in three weeks now. I have washed some slacks and undies because I had not much choice. My room is a mess.

News will have to be broken by my parents through text. But I could not contain my feelings for even if I promised not to watch, I was worried. After buying groceries (with a short line at the counter, for once) composed mostly of junk food, specifically the E-aji of different sorts and flavors, I went to a store outside of KCC which had a tv that aired the match. Already in the 5th round, a man there assured me that Manny was leading. I could see his opponent's face bleeding. It was not a happy sight but I left the store with all fears evaporating. It was just sad that another face will be distorted after the game.

When I got back into my place, I had my lunch and consumed two servings of rice, a major violation of my diet policy of having only two cups of rice in a day. Huhu. I would not have rice tonight.

This fight, like many others of Manny's in the past, has again made significant contributions to the country. For starters, he once again proved the dominance of the Philippines in the field of boxing. The people, even for a short time have forgotten their burdens and were happy for Manny. This day had been a holiday for police officers for even the criminals had their eyes glued on tv. Filipinos, despite the many differences, were united in cheering and praying for our man. Manny is a resident of the Philippines, thus, his income earned inside and outside of the Philippines will be taxed (although there are exemptions. I don't know if his winnings are included in such). But then, he has shares in pay-per-view. Tax there is sure.

I have no intentions of watching the replay or watch tv interviews of him (I've not much choice, I have no tv). But I might check out newspapers. I am contented knowing that he won.... And afraid that in his next match, he might not. For nothing is ever permanent.

In the first place, what made me decide not to watch the game is because I do not want to be a witness to his downfall. So expect that it will again be a pass for me in his next game.

.....

I am Commander

My Sister and I on her college graduation

The Little Sister I Never Wished For
(Original title)

I have a little sister
Who never really had been
She doesn’t obey me
But I’m forced to obey her.

I have a little sister
Who kicks me out of bed
And calls me a sleepyhead
Whenever I wake up late.

I have a little sister
Who punishes me
And even if I’m right
She won’t accept she’s wrong.

All my life I never wished
For a sister like her
Never did I want to be called ‘under’
And she to be called ‘commander.’

Obviously, this is a work of a child, hehe. This was written by my sister 13 years ago; published in 'The Western Glow' in the year 1995.

I won't be surprised to find more articles/stories/literary pieces about me in my sister's journals and school papers. I saw this one while going through some of her many things.

Am I proud of all these? I don't know....

You see, my sister and don't hate each other. We actually love each other very much (she loves me very much that she is always affected by 'us') hehe.

Having a younger sibling.... anyone?

Angeli Benette Pidut, CPA
better known as Zea's sister (hehe)

Among the many things my sister sent home was a scrapbook which contains some of the articles she had written during her schooldays. And I was surprised to see one, written when she was in grade school (some 12 years ago), which again was about me.

I am certainly my sister’s favorite literary subject…

I remember so well when I was young how happy we were as a family – my parents’ closeness, the loving, the cuddling, the kissing and the tenderness of their looks were so inspiring. Their concern for me was so overwhelming. My mother never entrusted me to anyone, lest I will be hurt and she never gave me reason to be insecure.

Everything was so well until one day, I heard Father and Mother conversing. Father was so excited of the idea of having another baby. I didn’t mind at all because I did not understand what having another baby meant. Mother told me time and again that soon I will have a playmate. Father had to work harder, so I was told, to buy the needs of the expected baby. He comes home late and goes to work early. I was seldom awake whenever he was at home except during Sundays because we always went to church together.

Mother barely had time for me – she didn’t play with me as often as we used to. She was always busy preparing the things the baby would be needing. ‘Why had mother changed?’ I kept asking myself, but never got the answer.

I learned to play alone. I got used to doing it because we had no neighbors. We were living in the farm.

However, life was not at all that unhappy for me. I used to play with the animals my father raised. My favorite was a New Hampshire-bred swine I named Tibs. She was so beautiful, tall and sexy. How I loved playing with her. I used to ride on her back after she was bathed. She never resented, rather, I knew she enjoyed my company. I forgot all my worries and frustrations whenever I was with her especially when she gave birth to 12 cute piglets. I was amused looking at them chasing each other.

It was one moonless night when all of a sudden Mother woke Father up. She shook Father so hard that I was also awakened. I never saw Mother that way before. She was in intense pain, her teeth gushing and her voice moaning. When I inquired about what was happening, I was told that the baby was arriving. I was puzzled. There was my mother suffering from pain but still looking very expectant of the arrival of the new baby.

Nobody was around for me to ask question to. Father was gone in haste to fetch a midwife. While he was away, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to get near Mother to comfort her but she was hysterical. It seemed ages before father arrived with a midwife. They were just in time because Mother was already screaming. This time her voice was harsh and coarse and all of a sudden, a sharp shrill voice was heard. A baby girl was born.

The presence of the new-born baby brought me farther away from my parents. How I hated the baby. 'It must be she or I', I told my mother one day; and even threatened her that I’d stow away if they keep her. Mother shrugged her shoulders and smiled. I knew she didn’t believe me.

I felt more alone. Why can’t things be as they were. It was so difficult to describe how I felt. There were times when I wanted to scream because I felt the walls closing in around me.

One day, when this feeling assailed me, I ran out of the door and headed out to my grandparents’ house though I did not exactly know the way.

Mother rushed after me, hugged me and kissed me. She explained that everything would be alright. She told me, ‘Mother has to keep the baby and so must the Big sister.’

My story happened ten years ago, when I was only two. Today, we are five in the family – Father, Mother, the Big Sister (that’s me), Barbie and Daboy (the latest addition and the only boy).

This article was published in ‘The Western Glow’, the official publication of Dadiangas West Central Elementary School, in the year 1996.

Why is it posted here?!? Well, it's about me. I happen to be the younger sibling.....

The Deadly Punches of Frank

The Philippines suffered the most in mother nature's latest show of fury - Typhoon Frank.

For more than a month now, the country has been experiencing long, bad rains, most especially in the Luzon and Visayas regions. But nothing could beat the destruction and loss of many lives brought about by Frank. News of the MV Princess of the Stars tragedy flooded the televisions. The shock, caused not by the weather, but by its effects, came to the Filipinos last weekend.

While worry and grief consumed the hearts of many, I was living my solitary, unaffected life here in Marbel. I have not watched the news for three weeks now. I have no access to television and radio. And when I have the chance to surf the net, I was always checking http://www.starmagazine.com/ for juicy showbiz news about Angelina Jolie's pregnancy and Jennifer Aniston and John Meyer's romantic escapades.

So the shock came very late for me. During the Mass of the Holy Spirit conducted last Wednesday, the mass presider, at the end of his homily, said, Let us pray for those who were struck by the MV Princess of the Stars tragedy and those who suffered in Iloilo (something like that).

I was clueless and when I asked my seatmate about what the priest meant, he briefed me on what he had seen and heard on the news. I was on the verge of crying. It took so much effort to fight tears from falling.If I were alone then, I would have let my emotions prevail. But I was in public and I did not want to make a scene. My seatmate, looking at me, did not know whether to be amused or what over my reaction.

Today, I checked the newspapers and inquirer.net and learned that around 500 people have been confirmed dead already, excluding the hundreds of unrecovered bodies still left at the ferry, which at present is stuck hundreds of feet underwater.

Many relatives of the victims came out, wanting to claim the remains of their loved ones. There was one who lost 13 family members who were supposed to attend a family reunion. Now, they will be having a reunion plus memorial service.

While many people have lost homes, properties and loved ones, there are others who remain safe and unharmed, including me and my family. I could not say that we're lucky because luck has nothing to do with this. In some ways, I have lost a lot in this, too, even if indirectly. I could not claim that I know how they (victims' families) feel, I'd be a hypocrite. But I feel for them. I am with them. Their loss is the loss of the Filipino people. And at this point, the most that we can do is pray for the victims and those whom they left. And if there are entities who contributed in this tragedy by being irresponsible, then it's about time for them to face their responsibilities.

Nothing can bring back all the loss, but hopefully, this tragedy will prove to be a learning experience for everyone.

Missing them

My siblings - Angeli and Hansel

My sister Angeli is better known to our relatives and friends as Coco. She was nicknamed such because papa used to drive my grandfather's (mama's dad) truck which transports coconut. That was how my parents met. Father changed profession. He is now a principal in a public school in GenSan.
My sister writes well. She is a creative writer. I try to write meaningful articles but I will never pass. But I'm a good critic, hehe.
Ate, after passing the CPA Board, worked for Pricewaterhouse Coopers Firm. She wants me to follow the path she had taken. Oh well, we desire different things so I chose a different profession - teaching.
She is moving forward, following the path usually taken by most auditors. She is due to leave on July 2 for Gibraltar, a financial hub in Europe. May she find true happiness there. hehe. I believe such move will give me greater happiness, too, financially. It means bigger credit card benefits from her.
Seriously, I will be very sad. I actually feel very sad already. I never thought time would come when we would move away (physically) from each other. I've always considered us to be inseparable. She tells me always that I'm the person she loves most.

My brother Hansel, a.k.a Daboy (meaning, "The Only Boy"), studies at Maritime Academy of Asia and the Pacific in Bataan. He is taking up Engineering of some sort. I don't know what field exactly. He studied for a year at NDDU, my alma mater, but could not stand being in the same school with his older sister. Some things there might have affected him. Anyway, he is now in a good place where he excels. He is having the time of his life.
My brother was my first love. Even though three years separate us, I lowered down to his level, hehe, when we were kids so that he would have someone to play with.
He is a national winner in different arts competitions. He is an excellent visual artist. Again, I'm the critic. I tried very hard in that field. Just wasn't/isn't for me....
After finishing college education at MAAP, he will work for a shipping company in Japan. He is very much looking forward to it.

So, I'll be the only one left here in the Philippines...........

Debate 101

Many of us have a lot to say - ideas to be shared, newly-acquired information to be boasted and opinions to be aired. Human beings that we are, we are bound to reason, argue and debate. And most of the time, debating becomes heated; exchange of words becomes personal and we find ourselves fighting even with those who were once our friends.But debating need not have a sad ending. Friendships need not be broken. Debating can actually turn out to be a fun activity which provides learning and meaningful entertainment to the audience.\

Like every activity, formal debating has a history. It was patterned after the sessions conducted by the parliament during the time when men still wore wigs. The basic idea is that one side, the government, proposes for a certain thing; while another side, the opposition, firmly opposes. These elements are present whatever format of debating is applied - whether Asian Parliamentary, British Parliamentary or Oregon-Oxford.

Many high schools and colleges in the country have debate organizations that provide venues for students to develop their debating skills. There are also debate competitions in school, local, regional, national and international levels.

In debating, you don't get to choose which side you will defend. It doesn't matter very much what your personal view is. The motion will be given and a coin will be tossed to identify whether you get to be in the government side or in the opposition. So the real test for the debaters is how to defend the 'cause' of the side which had been assigned to them.

In a competition I participated in during my freshman year in college, my team (composed of three female all-first-year students) was given the motion, 'Priests be allowed to marry' and we were on the government side. All three of us personally do not approve of such proposal. But hey, we couldn't say that to them, especially to our opponents.

For the whole duration of the debate, we had to forget our beliefs and principles. We concentrated on defending our contention that priests, like all other men, must be given the chance to marry should they choose to. We won the match and afterwards, when we were away from everyone else and were feeling proud of our accomplishment, we provided counter-arguments and rebuttals to all the untrashed arguments we gave earlier.

You see, debating is about reasoning; influencing others to believe in you through the arguments that you give, which of course must be supported by evidence.

Debating also tests one's character. In a debate match on my senior year in college, where we were given the motion, 'Federalism must be applied in the Philippines ', a debater from the opposition side said, 'We cannot change our system of government because it is part of our tradition. Taking the B'laans as example, they don’t know anything about Federalism. They are ignorant of the law and because they are in the mountains, they will never understand the change in the system.'

That is an insensitive remark. Taken that B'laans do not know anything about Federalism and how it works, are we helping them by openly mocking them and by telling the world of what they do not know of? Wouldn't we be of more help if we find means to reach out to them and educate them so that they could also form opinions about the subject, thus, they can take part in decision-making. The opposition side could still have defended their contention without demeaning people/races. Debaters need not compromise their values for the sake of argumentation.

As a debater, I have learned that the best arguments are those which are grounded on values and sound principles. Even though I may personally not support the contention of the side assigned to me, it is still possible that I could give meaningful arguments and supporting statements because there are always two sides in a story. There is nothing totally absolute in this world and debating is a venue to find out which side is more necessary, beneficial and practicable.

Debating is a sport; where at the end of the game, a certain team will emerge victorious over another. And like all team sports, there are players who play better than most. If a "most valuable player" is named at the end of a basketball game, a "best debater" is declared at the end of a debate match.But no matter how good a debater may be, that is never an assurance that his/her team will win. It will always go back to how good the debaters are as a team and not as individual players.

After winning many debate tournaments and losing in some, I learned that the greatest reward is not a trophy and a best debater award, but the learnings and the experiences gained in the debate.

Debating is a venue to develop critical thinking skills because a debater does not accept things at face value. Debating develops both speaking and listening skills because you cannot refute the claims of the opposing team if you did not listen. In debating, we learn to become tolerant of different opinions. We cannot expect everyone to always believe in the same things we believe in. All these skills are also very useful to students in their recitation, essays and other school works. They will also be better-prepared for their jobs after graduation.

Through debating, we are building a society that is well-informed. We can practice democracy better because we can take sides in many issues. Debaters also have a great power to influence others to speak up.

Barbie, My Barbie

This was written by my sister when she was in high school; released nine (9) years ago in Reveille, the official student publication of Lagao National High School.


A perfect combination?

We were mirror images of exact opposites - my sister Barbie and I. We don't look alike and yet, we are not so different.

Do you ever wonder how she ever got nicknamed Barbie when her real name's Zea? Simply because our parents thought that I would love her more if she will be called my favorite toy, which happened to be my Barbie doll. Yes, my Barbie.... But who could they fool? Obviously, not me!!! I don't know, but at my first glance of her in my mother's arms, a strong feeling of indifference creeped into my whole being until I decided to despise her.

My early life with Barbie had not been good, for she dislikes me as much as I dislike her. We hated each other. She is someone who wouldn't get anyone get away from a wrong doing without paying back. What would you call us - a perfect combination?! Maybe, for we always end up wringing each other's necks.

But living with my sister isn't always the pit. Having only two years of age gap, we enjoy sharing each other's secrets and talking about our experiences especially about boys and crushes. We would then find ourselves making the other jealous and turn green with envy. But I guess she always wins. At grade six, she already got a love letter from a boy she really likes. That made me really envious of her. I was already fourteen then but for an unknown reason, I couldn't even make my crush look at me. But it was the special sisterly bond we started to share that made everything sweeter and extra-special than anything else.

Although I could say that through the years, we finally accepted each other's existence, I still couldn't help but hope for a little space between us. There were still times when I would want to choke her in her sleep and wish I had the power to make her vanish into thin air.

And.... after years of longing, waiting, hoping.... the day finally came that she has to go. Bringing her suitcase with her, she bade us goodbye to study in Laguna, up the magnificent beauty of Makiling and become one of the country's scholars in the field of visual arts. I couldn't deny how proud I had been of that achievement she had. But what truly made me jubilant were the words I long have wanted to hear from her - 'Goodbye......'

These leave-taking words seemed music to my ears. There could be nothing more I could wish for at the moment. 'Ah....' was all I said. A sigh of relief!

I was ready to shout then. Perhaps I had shattered the whole world into pieces with my shout if I hadn't controlled my ever-growing emotions. At last I would be free - with no more sister to pester me. See, free even rhymes with me; so does sister with pester. A thought of how would it be like to keep the room to myself like I had always wanted since I was just a kid; and won't have anyone to share things with all flashed in my mind. Ah... perhaps it would be truly different, but wonderful.

When we sent her off the port, nothing seemed to have changed between us. We just said casual goodbyes. No more. No less.

But when I went inside the house, I sensed that something is missing. I realized that my sister was gone and suddenly, I felt very lonely. An overwhelming sadness filled me.

After a month, when I heard her voice in the telephone saying, 'I love you Ate, and I miss you a lot...' I couldn't help but shed a tear. It was the first time I heard that from her, I guess. It's funny to think how distance could make the difference. But thinking about anything now, I would rather have her back by my side.

There were so many things I wanted to tell her. Oh, how I wish I could talk to her for as long as I want. But she is far away now, in the opposite pole where I stand.

While watching the setting sun fade in the west, tears fell from my eyes while I reminisced the bittersweet memories we shared through those short years together. Oh, how I miss her so! I miss Barbie, not because her name was of my favorite toy, but because she is my sister, my own flesh and blood. I thought I hated her all those years, but... the truth I guess is that I've always loved her, though I may not have realized it. It is indeed true that it is only when a person is away that you will realize how much she means in your life.

Ah... Barbie, you're really my Barbie, my life...


I did not stay far away for long. She welcomed me back into her arms (with not much choice) after a year's stint at Makiling. I was not meant to become an artist......... Haha. It was a struggle for us, once again.

Pangungumusta kay Juan

Si Juan pagdating ng takipsilim...........

Gutom. Walang pera. Eh hindi naman libre ang pagkain.

Nagkasakit. Walang pambili ng gamot. Ayaw tanggapin sa hospital.

Naglakad sa kalye. Umuugod-ugod. Nasalubong ng adik.

Hiningan ng pera. Walang maibigay. Sinaksak.

Natagpuan ng nagmamadaling ale. Walang pakialam.

Ang gabi'y naging araw.........



Kumusta kaya si Juan?

...

To Wage War against Terrorism

The government has called for every means to eliminate terrorists and bandits from the face of the earth.

War must be waged against terrorism. Nothing personal, you simply have to die, is what the government says to terrorists who are savages anyway.

And many people are cheering on. What does this bade for us? That a nation, for once, seems united in a bloodthirsty call to arms to wipe the terrorists out?

The anger and the need to redress are understandable. But the burning desire to strike out at whoever happens to be in the way is not.

The pain and grief are clear, as anyone who has suffered the loss of a loved one through senseless violence knows.

The scale of human suffering wrought by the hand of vengeance will happen again.

But in the war on terrorism, there are no borders. Terrorism is rooted more permanently in poverty and social exclusion. The backbone of terrorism is not ideology; it is poverty which by itself is more painful. And to salute it by mounting a total war policy is not the answer. It is only an aggravation of the difficulty.

To wage war against terrorism is to wage war against poverty. To gain success is to give them a chance to live a decent life, participate in social activities and create an environment that will enable them to be productive.

Waaah!!!

Yes, waaaah !!!!!!!!!!!! I'm getting obsessed over something, or someone, or something he's done or been doing. They are all related.

That's it. At least it's out. I hope I wake up or get bumped soon. But there's really no one who'd do that to me here or help me with it. Good thing pa-weekend na.

Bushed... And Complaining

Today, I faced another truth.............. Kelangan pumila!!!!! I had to apply for SS number and Philhealth card kasi to be able to get my certificate of employment, which I would need for my atm card application. I've postponed this task for a long time na and the pay day is coming. I couldn't get my atm card without the said requisites. I had to act on the matter now no matter how much I dread the process and the long wait. Actually, it wasn't very long. I only spent an hour and a half but it was dreadful. Huhu............ Why do I complain a lot?!

This had been a long day, made longer by the need for those numbers.......

No See, No Hear

I've been living a life of an hermit..... Alone and believe me, loving almost every minute of it. This change of heart is probably the effect of too much exposure for the past many years (hehe).

I used to avail of the unlimited text. Now, I could not even send more than 20 text messages in a day, most of which are lav u, mis u messages to parents and siblings. And that is not due to lack of textmates. It's the lack of will to text. Sayang nga ang alltext. Magastos rin kung regular load.

And here's the routine: bhaus - faculty room - classroom - faculty room - library - internet room - faculty room - bhaus. Boring!? But lots of thanks to the free library and internet service access. Hehe. But can you believe that I actually settle for this and probably won't change the routine. And who do I talk to? Co-teachers, students, dean......... I haven't had a real talk about life-related topics in many days now. Oh, except the 3 hours spent with friends in GenSan. And none since then.

For now, this is life for me.......... For how long, I don't know.

CHOICES

When you’re 21 years old, more or less, and you ask yourself, "What have I been doing the past 21 years?" And you would probably reach the conclusion that more than ¾ of your life had been spent in school.

Different people view school life differently and the differences can be greatly attributed to the (again) different activities that we engage in. For you see, school life is not just about lessons, assignments and other academic stuff.

A great part of what we are now and what we do is influenced by our experiences, which are directly or indirectly school-related. The school setting/environment gives us lots of opportunities to gain skills, develop talents, pursue dreams, meet friends, acquire and develop values and most importantly, make decisions.

How we lead our life and spend our time is our choice - no matter how much we are bullied to do this and that, or that we are too shy to join orgs, or that we have to prioritize. In the end, we make/made the choices and we can certainly change or modify those.

Having been what most would say “active” in school, I have acquired a fair understanding of the different types of students we have.

The primary purpose of going to school is of course, to learn. And there are students who actually take this more seriously than others; where they equate learning with having excellent grades. They are the competitive ones. I know because I was once an exaggerated, competitive student where a grade is not good enough unless it’s 1.00 (98-100) and that 1.25 (94-97) is not too bad but I would kill (or fight with) a teacher who’d dare give me 1.50 (90-93).

But not all competitive students are that exaggerated, especially if they know their limitations and weaknesses. 1.75 will not be too bad and it will still keep them in the Honor’s list.
The downside: The moment they get their first mark which does not fall under their expected grade category and the hopes of honors evaporate, they could lose faith in their studies and start to drift, welcoming depression and you can speculate the worse. Bitterness would rule over life. That is sad…….
Advice: Change the attitude. Do not let grades rule over your life. Yes, do strive to achieve your academic goals. But remember, life does not end with one low mark or by not getting the “laude”. For the real measure of success is not by the number of awards you receive but how you have put to good and positive use all that you have learned.

And there are those talented ones, the artists who see school as a venue to develop and showcase their skills and talents. There are many organizations in school for dancers, singers, writers and others; where students can be with people who share their interests and who can relate to them. And working together, dancers, singers and other performers give us wonderful shows and give the school honors if they win in competitions and perform in big functions.
The downside: Some of the students become “exclusive”, limiting their group of friends to those who belong to their org. Others also major in their org activities and treat academics as their minor. (Take note of the words ‘some’ and ‘others’).
Advice: Do not compromise your academics. It does not mean though that you have to give up the extra-curricular activities. Be a responsible student. Believe me, you can have it all. And do not limit your friends. It’s also rewarding to have friends of all sorts, including classmates. You can mutually help each other in schoolwork.

We also have politicians, public servants, and the likes……… You see them around – giving speeches (or lectures), initiating and organizing activities, smiling and waving. The school has a student government. It has leaders, funds and projects/activities. There are also curricular, extra-curricular, program and civic clubs and orgs. By being a member of an organization, one develops people-skills as well as leadership and management skills which will prepare him/her for the greater challenges of the working world. You serve people and at the same time learn. And there are innumerable benefits as well as pains (see my next article).
The downside: Student leaders can get so engrossed with the organization and its activities that they may forget the original and bigger reason for schooling. So much time might be spent for the org; that their life will revolve around it. It’s wonderful if the experience will help one develop values but it’s sad when being a leader will lead a person to believe and act as if he/she is above others.
Advice: Again, assess what your priorities are. Know your limits. There are people who can pull it off – do good in academics and at the same time, are responsible leaders. The best lessons, which are the values that we embrace, are learned not necessarily inside the classroom, so go for it.

The shy ones. Some people are awfully shy that they are never able to gain friends and would never consider joining organizations. They go to school, enter classes and at the end of such, will leave. They choose the people to whom they open up with.
The downside: They may be talented but their skills are unheard of and unseen. They may even be intelligent but would never recite and share in class, thus, would still not get good marks. The few friends they have acquired might meet other friends, thus, will not be exclusive to them.
Advice: Try to combat what fears you have. Seek help. We have guidance counselors who may do so. It would be better to start taking off shyness now because after college, we all have to deal more with people, whether we like it or not. Be prepared.

We can also encounter students who couldn’t care less and treat schooling as a requirement in life where passing the subjects and graduating are good enough.
The downside: Everything…….
Advice: Do yourself and your family some justice. Education costs a lot and you do not just pick up money from anywhere. It does not come to you for free. For starters, you don’t pay for your education. Payment of your tuition fee comes from your parents’ (or some others’) hard work.

And more (too many to mention)……………..

A student cannot be limited to only one of those mentioned; or might not even qualify for one of the above.

What kind of student you may be can greatly influence the person you will become. I hope that you make the right choices now.

(Haha...... As if I am in the position to advice or even comment. There is simply nothing else to do.)

No tragedy

Today, I attended my first mass here at koronadal city. I did not know what time exactly the mass would start. When I left my place, I wasn't decided whether to get in an internet cafe (get things done for the yearbook and check out my friendster), to buy my groceries or to go to church. The internet was more tempting.

I'm not yet familiar with the place, there was no one to ask for directions, it was so hot and I did not know what to say to the tricycle driver. No choice, I had to walk and find out things on my own. I walked and walked and walked and there was no open internet cafe. Is is like this here on Sundays?! And the next thing I knew, I was in front of the church. God does know how to guide. Deep inside, I know, I wanted to go to church.

And I was just in time. There were already so many people and the mass was about to start. I did not miss anything. I looked around, hoping to see familiar faces. Just like back home. But who was I kidding? I'm new here and seem to know no one. The first voice I heard was that of a child who was actually serving during mass. There wasn't just one, but there were many children taking part. Amazing.........

You ask me what the homily was about? I did not understand. It was delivered in Ilonggo. And you see, my knowledge of the dialect is so limited. But I grasped a line. The priest said, (in Ilonggo) Its a tragedy if you do not know what you want. Is it really? For I do not know what I want. Or more of, I know what I want but I make it an excuse to other people that I don't because they could not understand the reasons for my actions........ So this is not a tragedy.

I'm in a place I only considered being in just recently. I'm doing something that I never thought I'd even consider doing, well, until eight months ago. And here I am, in a not-so-far place from home but in a totally different world from where I was expected to be. And I am alone. But this is what I chose. And even at this time when I feel so sad and lonely, I would not choose to pack up and turn away...............

For a long time, the past 21 years, everything was simply given to me. I could say that I had been a brat, a spoiled one. I want something, I get it. If I do not want it, I'd dispose of it and turn away. A friend, Eric, always said then, What Barbie wants, Barbie gets. And in the biggest decision of my life yet, I got what I wanted. But I understand that it would have to be the last "bratty" decision I would make (and have made) because times have changed. I'm now in the world where I am not the boss; no more of getting something because I simply want it or giving it back because I do not want it anymore. I have to learn to be responsible for my actions and stand by my decisions.

Wherever I am now, whatever I do and though there were many great things I have forgone, I am where I belong and mine is no tragedy............