Willing Exile

Musical Optimism

2011-10-23T18:23:00.000+03:00

When all else fails, roll out the old show tunes for a pick me up. If we had no performance management training today, I would have stayed home. The weather has gotten to me.

Islands

2011-10-19T20:38:00.000+03:00

Manhattan, in a pond at Windows to the World Park in Shenzhen.

Listening to: "Oceans" by Pearl Jam

The end of a workweek brings with it a certain kind of sadness. The finality of the day summons all the ghosts of Things Left Undone, with the prospect of Things To Do still peeking at the horizon.

For a lifer like me, the end of work for the day is a sudden deflation of my self. My raison d'etre, so to speak, has ceased and the Case of the Big Man can now conveniently go into the closet. Without a life to which I can look forward, the end of the work week can be maddening. This is amusing and a bit of a pain in the ass at the same time - there was a time when I was the acme of indolence, existing on the point of letting things be - and even then, the remarkable thing that defined me was my own indifference.

What am I without this job?

The romantic in me would go jump up and down and say gardemit, give the old F**k you to the Man and get back, yeeeaaahhhhh.... get back to where you once belong! Find the spaces within and nurture the bridges to fill those gaps. Find love. Find fulfillment in writing the fantasy novel to end all fantasy novels. Do something. (Cue in Dick Dastardly, snapping at his canine sidekick, "Muttley, do something!" "Muttley, HELP!) Be involved. Wallow in weltschmerz.

Smack myself in the head and find joy that work this week ends! (It doesn't really, I'm administering a training tomorrow).

The realist in me says, grab whatever satisfaction you can, because, THIS, all of THIS, can end very soon. Sometimes we get so lost in the details we fail to see the big picture. There are a number of milestones to reach in my life - love and marriage and children and mortgages and bloated debt. Well, I have the last one, even though some of that debt isn't technically mine, but I'm paying for it nonetheless.

The Big Picture issue is simple - there is no way I can fight back old age and all the rest. In between, however, are the spaces of life where I can find joys, big and small, and bask in the fulfillment that I'm making a difference in someone else's life.

Now, the tricky question is how big and how wide an impact I want to create. Any kind of ambition, then, must start with getting the little things in order. Better performance - better fitness. Better fitness - better habits. Better habits - start developing the right ones. Keep on the path - have a positive attitude.

There's the Rock of Sisyphus right there.

I'm down. I feel down today. Watching "The Big Bang Theory" is a comfort. It's not epic TV, not like "Boardwalk Empire" but it does the trick. These guys are like my old buddies in grade school, though back then it wasn't that hard. It was only later in high school and in college that the difficulties began - and I had the ultimate trifecta in nerddom - short, unathletic, and hooked on show tunes. Yeah, it's that bad.

Still, that is not the source of my sometimes-unhappiness. It's the might-have-beens, the almost-theres in my life. I was young, I was misinformed, I was egotistical, I was insensitive, or a host of other reasons. Yes, the pragmatic decision is to sweep these away and start afresh, but sometimes you get to thinking ... are we really all that isolated?

There's this poem by John Donne that no man is an island. I would like to believe him - we are always surrounded by others. Still, there is this ultimate realization that we are all disconnected - we begin alone and we end alone. We are islands adrift in the ocean of life. One's best hope is to build bridges and connections to others, so that in the end we leave something behind, and became a missing space in their lives.

So back to my original premise - what am I without this job? The proper rejoinder - what am I while I'm at my job? - I spend more than half of my waking hours here. Might as well make them count.

Back to the grindstone, another week that the Company owes me.

Food Sampler

2011-10-14T21:44:00.001+03:00

Last night was my first "cultural" experience in Riyadh, in the sense there was something different other than just strolling through the mall and finding some architectural feature (which, over here, is probably a sail and a boat, and then, a sail and a boat).

Hamming it up with staffers of the Japanese Embassy at the ASEAN Festival.

I was invited to a food festival by one of my former colleagues and his new friends here in the city at the Royal Embassy of Thailand. My role was a food sampler (a small joke at my expense.) Well, it wasn't really a food festival but actually the cultural festival for the entire ASEAN, in cooperation with the Japanese embassy.

We arrived a little bit late for the start of the festivities. Riyadh's Diplomatic Quarter is a whole new community in itself, so being there is like being separated from the rest of the city. After some twists and turns we found our way to the embassy and mingled with the rest of the crowd. It was well represented by staffers from all the participating countries, plus some guests from other embassies. I'm sure somebody looking for a different kind of fun wouldn't want to be there. As we stepped in, three statuesque blondes in high heels, one wearing a sequined gown to boot, were walking away from the embassy. Automatic minus points. Still, quick thanks for that unique sight. Haven't gotten that kind of view since my last visit in Dubai.

Anyhow, almost all of the ten ASEAN countries had food booths set up in the front yard of the Thai ambassador's residence. Noticeably absent was Myanmar, which was only selling novelties and other gift items, and Vietnam, which had its big flag left all alone in an empty booth. (Edit: of course I forgot about Cambodia and Laos, both of which did not participate in any way. Maybe they don't have embassies here. I don't know.)

First up: the Malaysian food booth. Primary offerings - mee hon (noodle soup) and satay (barbecued meat - they had chicken and lamb) with its own sauce. They also had fried spicy noodles. Took a bowl of the mee hon. Tastes like your bowl of sotanghon soup, with some sweet notes in the spicy sauce, most probably peanut. Chicken broth was top-rate. Noodles - a bit undercooked. Sauce - toss-up. Took some of the fried noodles - tastes like factory spicy noodles. I didn't try their version of the satay.

The Thai booth was filled. As in filled. They were making brisk business. I didn't want to line up for that baby - I was hungry. Next up - the Brunei booth. I bought the nasi lemak chicken/beef combo which looked a little promising. Their smoothies were doing brisk sales, but I already had my sugar rush for the day, so I didn't get any. The beef tasted Pinoy bistek with added pepper. The chicken? No word for it. It shouldn't be gamey, but it was. Rice was slightly sweet - a common theme for the rest of the night. I hated throwing away food, but there it was. So goodbye.

Some Singaporean kids waylaid us with sweet cakes for SR1. Goodbye SR5. Didn't see any of that, my friends took their share and none for me.

Made my way to the Indonesia and Singapore area. The Indonesians offered dumplings and their version of satay (Brunei, Malaysia, and Indonesia offered some), while the Singaporeans had a curry served with French bread, which was amusing if they actually ate it that way in Singapore. So-so curry.

Two Thai teenagers in costume, flanked by two cement posts.

Took the Indonesian satay, which had a mixed sauce of peanut chili and vinegar/soy with capsicum and onion. Some rice balls to take the edge off. My winner for the evening.

The Filipino booth had the most potential, if only they knew how to present our food. First off, the embassy screwed up by not allowing other suppliers to do business, only their in-house caterer. That wasn't bad in itself, but the caterer didn't take the opportunity to do something creative. No Philippine flag either. As for the food, their chicken adobo and sotanghon soup were uninspired, because they were covered and people couldn't see how appealing they were, if only....

Their only saving grace was their sweets. I had a craving for leche flan, so I took one shared half of it with one of my companions.

After eating, we made our way inside and watched a group of Filipino highschoolers present four Mindanao dances. Great show.

We had a lot of laughs during the night and I wish I could post more pictures - have a schedule and my Internet connection right now is not helping. I put most of the good ones in Facebook, so any of my friends would have a treat looking at them.

About the only downer of the night was some miscreant puked at the side of our vehicle. We really have to make do with our neighbors. After all, their wealth is what is making us earn our keep.

Neighbors

2011-10-10T02:04:00.000+03:00

One of the few times I felt harassed while living in Saudi Arabia happened earlier tonight. While it may be par for the course for some other people, this is not the way I envision living in Saudi Arabia would be.

My colleague and I were bothered by a gathering of pre-adolescent Saudis outside my home. Normally I ignore these groups of youngsters and stay away a good distance to avoid any unpleasantness. Today, (well, tonight, actually), however, they gathered in front of my building on some kind of bonding thing. They could do that all they want, but I as sure wouldn't want to be around when they are there.

It just so happens there is an abandoned work site almost facing our building on the other side of the street. These kids gather there and look for something to do - because life otherwise for them offers nothing new. In the land of so much wealth, many of these kids end up poor.

When we first made the turn we saw almost a dozen kids gathered in front of the house, and my instinct for self-preservation - the same which makes me want to avoid crowded places - rang out a strong alarm. Incidentally, we have no street lights on our corner and our house has a very small fluorescent lamp on our front stoop. My colleague, who was driving, asked if we should stop and I said, keep on going. We turned a corner and saw another car in our rear-view mirror make a stop at the house.

After we made another turn (less than two minutes) it was put-up-or-shut-up. My colleague had to pick up his daughter from the sitter and then his wife from her place of work, and I had no more excuses to prolong the wait since it was almost Isha prayer and soon every one will either run toward the mosque or away from it.

As soon as we stopped, Murphy's Law went into overdrive as my house key conveniently trickled out from its loop with the rest of my keys and fell under the front seat. I had to step out and keep the door ajar for me to bend down and retrieve the key.

I knew from the onset that when the door moved one of the kids was kicking it. I tried my best to ignore the first two times, but after the third time I couldn't do it. I turned around and saw that the smallest of the kids kicking the door. It was easy to intimidate him - he was really that small - but I feared for the safety of my colleague, his baby daughter inside the car, and the car itself, of course. It was a good thing - the best of small things - that these young boys were afraid of bothering a man and his baby. This gave me the time to gather my things, warn my colleague to get out of there, and scamper inside the house.

I was wondering if someone would follow me, but nobody did.

When I got into the flat, my flatmates told me their story - somebody's bag was forcibly opened, while someone was pestered into giving up his cigarettes. Turns out they were in the car that arrived right after we made the first turn away from the house. They took the worst of the first wave - two of them even waited in our entryway to waylay anyone coming into the house - but the kids were not emboldened enough to make the charge. My flatmate, who owned his own car, had to drive away and wait for a half-hour before he drove back and got to park his car in front of the house.

This incident convinced me to consider alternatives to our current home. Maybe it is a random incident - I'll be on vigil for the next few weeks just to make sure - and maybe not. Then again, maybe the kids are not residents of our place, but instinct tells me no large group of kids would dare move into another's territory without expecting some resistance from the locals. This has been the way of gangs from times forgotten, and will be so as long as humanity exists.

We live in a neighborhood where many policemen live, and the front wall of the property faces the "plaza" of the mosque of our area. There are many reasons to expect some amount of security for our place. So now this - and I'm letting this unworded accusation fly - xenophobia is in much our hearts as it is in theirs, but we are just making an honest living, and nothing more.

I'm letting things cool down a little, but I hate being insecure just as I am heading for my own home at the end of each working day. They say there is a first time for everything, but shoot, I'd rather be absent for this one. Two more months, and then I could inform my real estate agent that I would like to move. Inshallah there would still be available space in safer, more accessible places in the city.

Until then, I'm on pins and needles.

Plain Inspiration

2011-10-09T08:06:00.000+03:00

Happy birthday John Lennon! You would have been 71 years old - you were in the same generation as my father so I guess he would never made you one of his musical idols. That man is strictly in the Frank Sinatra-Bing Crosby-Nat King Cole mode. I'm glad to say I followed your music even before the Internet made the musical landscape a virtual gobbledygook or a wonderful kaleidoscope of invention, depending on your place in the spectrum.

I would have wanted to post "Imagine," your most popular post-Beatles song, but that piece of cream puff has been suborned by the overly-romantic who look upon the ideal but do not think about the details in getting there. (Parenthetical thought: such cynicism! and coming back with a timely vengeance, I should say!) "God," however, is downright self-indulgent and thus almost offensive to those with narrow minds, while "Mother" is even more treacly and sentimental (and since my parents gave me a different upbringing, good for me!). So I choose this song, which is fitting since we're all slaves to the grindwheel called Necessity.

Someday they will call us salt of the earth.

Another Year

2011-10-05T21:06:00.001+03:00

So it's the fifth of October again and another year of my life has passed.

Every year continues to be a blessing. As the years pass, I am filled with happiness that in the midst of all the difficulties in the world and in my life there are still reasons for me to go on. For friends, family, loved ones, and even strangers who greeted me on my birthday, thanks. Your kind words and intentions are always a bonus.

All around, the world is in flux. Revolutions rage, economies rise and fall, the world weather has gone haywire, technology is moving leaps and bounds. Loved ones gather round and support one another as people fight off the inevitability of death. Or as they welcome the coming of new life.

On the other hand, life has become a steady drone for me. I welcome the regularity of the desert in Saudi Arabia. Work is now a familiar face, a worry that is rather welcome than feared. I like the constant pressure that each day brings. Though at times my mind is sapped, as it is now, to look for something new, I thank the silence that comes from having my mind go blank.

The What?

2011-09-29T10:30:00.000+03:00

It's easy to be caught up in a wave of pessimism when things don't go one's way. The world is imperfect, and by following one train of logic, the world is filled with imperfect beings. From there, one can infer that the imperfect being is oneself.

Reviewed word today - saw a re-run of the "The Big Bang Theory" where Sheldon Cooper uses the word weltschmerz - the melancholy feeling that stems from seeing one's imperfections and the imperfections of the world as reflections of one another.

I am not about to be taken in by that kind of feeling. That's the sure way to failure and oblivion.

"The only unbearable thing is that nothing is unbearable.”
― Arthur Rimbaud

Pressure

2011-09-28T12:23:00.002+03:00

We need pressure from everywhere - pressure from within to prevent being crushed by adversity, and pressure from without to keep from exploding from our own problems or ego.

Never (Gulp) Again

2011-09-22T18:09:00.004+03:00

Oh yeah, before I forget, something about our history.

I would normally put in something about the evils of the Martial Law period.

But no, some events and times must be put up with to educate the body politic.

Never.

Yeah sure.

Ooomph.

2011-09-22T17:34:00.003+03:00

This story could have been about me, under slightly different circumstances, just a few years back. Here I was talking about temperance and the first thing to put under control is eating.

Anyhow, I found some of the comments more interesting and no doubt not everybody wants to troll on these kinds of pages, just to share an opinion. Funny how we could have an opinion about everything and then choose to ignore the right of others to express their own. Just a thing with this "information age" - too much information, not enough discernment. And this isn't even a fingernail's worth to all of the other comments and tweets about everything that is happening.

Maybe it would be nice to turn it off. If only I could.

Temperance and Uncertainty

2011-09-21T18:13:00.001+03:00

"Your glory, O Israel, lies slain on your heights. How the mighty have fallen!". - 2 Samuel 1:19

A lesson for all OFWs is temperance.

It is always easy to think the world revolves around one's problems - the next bill to be paid, the next problem to be hurdled, the next loan to be taken out with all the accompanying guarantees.Life seems to be always about worry.

Worrying about the future, the unknown, the prospect of being powerless to stop the tide of the future. The odd thing, worrying always paints the future to either negative or positive prospects but trivializes the present.

Which leads us to my little additional realization for today - there is no antidote against the coming of the future. Problems, worries, consequences - we have no control over them. They come because they must, because with every effect there is cause. What we do control is the cause - our present.The vista of the future pales in comparison with the wonderment of the present - of being in the Moment, of seeing life as it is, and letting the world and one's self be.

Instead of appreciating life from our mere personal lens, we begin to understand the essential relationships that exist among us.

The present is more than just our own personal feelings and ambitions. There are other people too, and their feelings, thoughts, ideas, constantly interact with our own. Instead of enjoying this moment, many of us choose to worry about the next moment - a moment which we have already wasted thinking about instead of living.

Temperance, then, is the lesson of living this life within oneself - appreciating all that we have but taking no more than what we need. Temper one's ambition with the realization that goals, like buildings, are built one piece at a time. Temperance thus teaches patience.

Temper one's worry with the appreciation that we are blessed and that we still live, that there are a few more hours to live and that there is a prospect of a new day. Temperance thus teaches contentment, and in some cases, temperance teaches us fortitude - in the same way that we must temper our enthusiasm for change with the practical needs of the moment, where our determination is more folly than courage.

Temperance teaches us to conserve and to delay gratification, and thus learn prudence.

I was struck by this quote (wherein David laments the slaying of Saul and Jonathan) in that whatever we strive to build, so shall they can (and will) fall even with the best of our efforts. But we cannot worry about that uncertainty, we only know that we do what needs must.It is also a lesson that all good things have their limit, and we must tread carefully if we are to keep true to our course.

Living outside our home country is both a privilege and a burden - a privilege because we are given opportunities to learn about ourselves and the world - that bonus is much more important than the money itself. It is a burden because we must represent the best and the noblest characteristics of our people - because this is the picture other nationalities have of our entire country as a whole.

Keeping on point means we get closer to realizing our dreams for our family and country.

Winning Dirty

2011-09-18T17:56:00.002+03:00

Sneaky smart of Floyd Mayweather in his fight with Victor Ortiz. Details here.

Never liked the fellow, always thought he was much more gas than substance. But he was firing away and clearly outclassed the competition. Makes the cheap shot somewhat anti-climatic. Actually, it makes the guy downright boorish, arrogant, and unsportsmanlike. Made the headbutt by Ortiz in the earlier break in action almost justifiable.

But that's sport, not life. No one minds a sneaky-smart fellow from grabbing such opportunities afforded him even if he would get them later on.

So, congratulations for the meantime to new WBC welterweight champion Floyd Mayweather, Jr. Now if both he and Manny Pacquiao get off their tremendous backsides and get a fight done.

Go on, let's go dudes. No one would mind if somebody would pull off a sneaky-smart move again. At least the other guy can actually smack a few hard hits in return.

Wish and Hope, Pray and Weep

2011-09-17T11:00:00.000+03:00

I wish there could be something said
For the consciences of those with good intentions
Not that I have surfeit of any.
Still, it would be nice to know
If I could turn my life around
On the strength of wishes and prayers.

We all know very well
That faith may grant us the reprieve
To sleep soundly at night -
But tomorrow, our quandaries still exist
Nothing has changed from the time we slept,
Nothing has come about from wishing and hoping.

Sometimes, though, the state of mind we have
Prepares us for the inevitability of failure -
Saying, "such was not meant to be."
It was a nice ride, but one ends up with nothing
Nothing to show for the depths of despair fathomed
Nothing to show for the power of miracles expected
Nothing to show for the oceans of tears shed.

Life can sometimes be awfully cruel
That the things we enjoy are signs of her kindness.
Against the stark bleakness of loneliness
Truth, Love and Beauty find spaces to bloom.

Before we latch on to passing fancies
Or future glories that we will someday reap
Never let the slow escape of air from our life
Overtake us, and leave us gasping us air
Wishing and hoping, praying and weeping
That we will never be condemned
For the sins of our apathy and neglect.

Stakes

2011-09-13T18:03:00.002+03:00

Interesting that the word "stake" - even with its various contexts - purports to some form of action being taken. Staking a claim. Playing for high stakes. Drive the stake through the ground.

I've had an off week - I know this because I know I underperformed on my old standard. Part of it is some stress from last week, I would surmise. But mostly it's because my passport is missing and my residence permit (iqama) has not been processed.

I am in a whole boatload of trouble, if things don't get resolved quickly - at the very least, our people should find my passport. This incident is part of the sickness that ails this company - still, I wouldn't go so far as condemn the whole building for a few rotting walls.

Or would I? Should I?

So now this game has even raised its stakes - the better I get, the more challenges I have to hurdle. And keep on hurdling. Also, have to drive a tough stake into my indolent hide.

Ouch.

Thought Intrusion, or a Safe Title To A Rambling Post

2011-09-12T05:31:00.000+03:00

Almost two years ago, I wrote this piece on the suddenness of death and endless possibilities of life.

Still way further back, another piece I wrote six years back talks about how some things and people take on added importance in our lives, and the degree by which they enrich our lives is somewhat miraculous.

I realize I have been going on for such a long time. I don't know who it is out there that is reading this blog ... if what I am writing is doing something for you, I am glad and you are most welcome even if I don't receive your thanks.

But I am still pleased to tell my stories, if only to indulge my penchant for telling them.

Last Tuesday, I attended my first Toastmaster meeting in over a year. I was a charter member of our company club and was an integral part of the organization during its initial years, but my interest has waned as work and other projects took precedence. Also, something about the way our club was going on irked me. This may have more to do with me and my state of being than what was going on in general.

I'd rather keep the name of this new club to myself for the meantime. This is a club older than the one I used to attend, and is a more distinguished club because of its diversity and (most likely) more talented pool of speakers. Still, the air of informality in the club was both refreshing to me and at the same time, was an awful turn-off. This isn't a show-and-tell or a recital in school. Such things allow some pettiness. This is supposed to be a professional organization.

About the only thing going for the club was the fresh dose of youth among the officers, though I would surmise I only met the appealing half. (How mean! How tawdry!) The theme of the evening was about angels, which rang warning bells because normally TMI does not allow discussions regarding sex, politics, and religion. (That's why it's a stretch to get something meaningful, at times, during TM meetings).

Earlier that day we suffered a fatality in the factory. I knew this man personally, I had broken bread with him in the full sense that I spent a good time conversing with him. The man's chest was crushed in the concrete mixer. He was caught in-between the concrete chute and the pneumatic hopper chamber while cleaning hardened concrete chips from the machine with a portable jackhammer.

The machine was most likely improperly maintained as there not enough trained staff to conduct preventive maintenance. It is this kind of combination that often makes the worst kind of tragedies - complacency mixed in with trust/surrender. Such a cycle feeds upon itself until, in this case, something like this wakes us up.

I also knew the man's family personally - the man's brother-in-law is one of the pillars of the company. He too, struggled under the system. As an aside, dispassionately and without any trace of blame, this brother-in-law of course was also caught up in this cycle - I would like to believe he fought against most of its ills. But that is another story for another day. After twenty-plus years in the Company, he decided it was time to pack up and leave.

One delay after another prevented him from leaving. The day the whole family was about to leave, this tragedy struck.

I am thankful that the Lord has chosen to reward me with another day. Everything fades beside this reality: Life is precious and valuable because our hold over it is tenuous and uncertain. Now for those who don't believe in a higher power, I respect whatever order or symmetry they believe that gives sense in all this chaos and uncertainty. For me, it's simple - it's God.

Which now leads us back to the Toastmaster meeting - and I volunteered to speak first at Table Topics, which is essentially an impromptu speaking exercise. And I spoke at length about the event of the day, and the memories of my older thoughts were all combined.

It would have been much more impressive, had my fly not been open during the majority of the speech.

So yeah, blah, blah, this wouldn't have been all that great if I didn't win that day. But I did, and by all indications, I managed to make an impression. In more than leaving my fly open, that is.

To be honest, I was disappointed with the conduct of the meeting and the culture of the club - its standards and internal discipline need a review, in my opinion - to prevent complacency and neglect. If ever I am going to grow by continuing to attend this club's meetings, it will only be because of the people who go there. I am torn on this because I hardly know anybody there, and besides which, just attending is already an investment since I live and work in the outskirts of the city. As I have just arrived in Riyadh, I haven't marshaled all of my resources to ensure my mobility. Needs must I depend on other people to get from point A to point B. That surely cramps my style.

There were of course points of inspiration during the meeting that got me enthused about the entire enterprise.

Shall I wait on it, and let the ebb and flow of life decide for me, or charge on ahead, knowing that tomorrow may not wait?

New thought balloon: now things start getting more interesting. Welcome to Riyadh, buddy!

Quasi-Quiet Time

2011-09-02T23:20:00.002+03:00

The day is about to end though I have to say it ended much earlier.

Spent most of the day on the tube watching the last few episodes of "Game of Thrones." I've read the first four books and now working on the fifth of "Song of Ice and Fire" (the first novel of which is the source material of the HBO series), so I'm not really at all surprised at how it would go. The show is largely faithful to the source material, which is a good thing. I've seen the show twice over now and it's still good.

It's good to just unplug from all the work-related stress and kick back. Anyhow, trying to keep Monday from coming too soon, and work will be back in a fury.

Vacations like this one actually ruin the whole thing for me - it's long enough for one to get lazy, but not long enough for one to do something creative. I can't travel out of the country because my work documents aren't ready yet, which pisses me off. Out of my control though. Makes the prospect of working closer to the Philippines a lot better. Still a pipe dream at this stage, though.

One objective at a time. Inhale, say once, exhale. Only the passage of time teaches one the virtue of patience. Sure, I'd like my life to get somewhere else pretty darned fast, but there's always causality - one thing must be done before it leads to another, before I get to the desired goal.

I was about to get into some bit of gardening but I realize I am getting into a lot of unnecessary metaphors. The vision has been stated, just get it done.

All of a sudden, I'm excited for Monday to come. Bring it on.

Where is the Ticket Cutter? Oh, There.

2011-09-01T08:37:00.003+03:00

Now this idea of metering is something new.

I have to concede I like the Euro way of approaching prostitution - as an essential evil. That's not to say I condone the practice, just that like other issues, the practice can be regulated and contained.

I could imagine the same being done in the Philippines - and with the way things are done over there, it won't work. Some smart fellow would steal the meters and make a mark-up, or the tickets will be counterfeited. Such is our way.

End of Discussion

2011-08-30T15:53:00.006+03:00

Sometimes, doing the wrong thing earns you some amount of fame. Up to you if you call it wanted or unwanted publicity.

I insulated myself from much of outside news these past few weeks so I could bring myself to concentrate on work. Pinoy netizens were all agog about a student's essay on the English language. Worth the furor? Hardly. What is more revealing is that the Manila Bulletin mutilated itself by removing it from its servers.

I don't know Mr. Soriano personally - maybe in person he is respectful, refined, keenly observant, and boringly likeable. Maybe that is why his lack of intellectual depth is coddled by a content-hungry site like the Manila Bulletin. His article has enough candor and self-deprecation that it actually hooks the unattentive reader into his premise - English is important because it is essential to success and worldwide discourse; Filipino is our identity and we have trampled all over it, and we have to use it to survive in our own country whose masses are less educated for not being able to converse in English. Feel guilty for not being able to speak well in Filipino, but be thankful that you're a good English speaker.

Nice to get a thumbs up from this reviewer, but obviously there was not enough follow-through in reasoning. Honesty is not good enough in intellectual discourse as in all aspects of life. Ask any philandering husband, recovering alcoholic, compulsive gambler, or recidivist criminal. The right reasons are all there, but with no result or substance? Forget it.

Like Mr. Soriano, I think better and express myself better in English. I take no pride in this except that I can get away with letting people think I'm smarter than I really am, which says more about them than it does about me. I feel incomplete and cheated that I am not as fluent in Filipino as I would wish to be, God knows how hard I tried to be better in my mother tongue during my university years.

The pertinent question in this discussion is - we all know that our educational system, our culture, and our identity as a people still reek of colonialism and racial inferiority. In this case our own shibboleths create multiple layers of oppression and counter-oppression - the so-called "learned" vs. the so-called "hip." We deride the coño because he cannot speak the language of the streets, we laugh at those with regional accents, we create our own jargon for amusement, we nitpick at those with wrong grammar, we laugh at those who try too hard to fit in.

When does this all end? Our mental models of class and language also need to be reformed, perhaps along with the insistence that there is only one ideal way to make onself understood. More importantly, we also need to revisit our ideals of success and white-collar supremacy.

The currency of langugage is its capacity to inspire. If that is so, Filipino has already gotten a good headstart. Let's keep it going.

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. - Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

Staying Live

2011-08-29T23:07:00.003+03:00

Eid Mubarak!

Just keeping this blog rolling, just staying live until something more important or momentous comes up.

I am back in muggy Dammam for the Eid Al Fitr holidays, though at least it's no longer as humid as it was during most of the summer. It has dawned upon me that there is so much me that is into Dammam-Khobar. Despite that Riyadh is a World City in terms of its economic, political, and cultural influence, I am still at heart one with the Eastern region of Saudi Arabia.

For those who want a better explanation of what Eid is all about, this is not the place to do it. Suffice to say comparatively of the two great religious festivals of the Muslim faith Eid Al Fitr (as opposed to Eid Al Adha) follows a period similar to Lent in the Christian faith, but its celebration is closer to that of Christmas, where Eid Al Adha follows a period closer to Holy Week in nature, and is apropos celebrated like that of Easter. For me personally, I would rather celebrate Easter more than Christmas, but maybe all those companies and businesses have got it right - Christmas sells better.

On the 1st of September the new order in the office would have reached one month. It was a so-so month, Ramadan being what it is. No developments, no promises. I feel sad for a member of our team who had to leave the Company involuntarily (the new PC for getting sacked), and I don't want to go into the justifications for his departure. Everyone has his or her truth when telling their side of the story. As far as I am concerned, the current order has to be a bit tougher for the Filipinos. As the ranking official left - the former "Godfather" also exiting the company "officially" at month's end, this strangely gives me some extra amount of motivation. Konting tiis lang, mga kabayan. Kailangan natin 'to, masyado tayong nag-relax. Gitgitan na ngayon.

Some love-hate involved with this holiday - it's fun to kick back a little, but I am not too impressed. It's the just the way I feel, no offense to those who devoutly follow the rule and are truly appreciative of what Ramadan is to their faith. It's the same way I feel about major Christian holidays - maybe I'm just channeling my inner Scrooge.

Since I have just moved in my new flat, I haven't had the privilege of hooking up all the amenities needed for modern living, i.e. a good Internet connection and cable TV. My inner compass tells me that with so much going on outside of me, I need to take care of what's inside. Some creative force inside me wants to break out, and I would like to harness it fully this time. No sideshows or other distractions. I don't know where it would lead, only I hope to get something done. Keeping my fingers crossed.

Letting the creative force grow within me also means getting in touch with my own memories - as an observer of life, I can only convey it through the lens of my own experience. This time around memory lane brings me back to seventeen years ago, during the run-up to World Youth Day 1995. At the time, I was involved with the Volunteer Committee, which was tasked to recruit and train volunteers for the event. For all the great press WYD '95 received afterward, I wouldn't have believed it then - in the end, even the organizing committee was all about who knew who, not about who was most capable. Well, even the Church is not free from that.

(Before somebody grabs some incendiary material from all of this, let me stop you by saying: World Youth Day '95 was successful because God got involved, plainly and simply. Quote me on that.)

....

Oh yeah, the story. Somebody got a crazy idea to have a picnic/bonding activity in Tagaytay in the middle of August. During typhoon season. You bet, the best combo in the world for a failed trip. The four fellows in our organization who were most invested in this entire enterprise - Gerard, Feds, Robert, and me - were divided on this issue. The first two gentlemen were saying NO, THANK YOU (I'm pretty sure there was another event at that time involving women and food, I can't decide which one went first), the third one was saying, "Tagaytay? In the middle of a typhoon? You kidding?" and of course only one guy was all enthused about the project --- mainly because I was stupid enough to volunteer bringing food, and second, because I knew the girl who was my crush at the time was attending.

End result: Gerard and Feds fell by the wayside, having decided to stay back, while I begged and wheedled Robert to drive me (yes, only me) and we followed the rest of the campers to one of the private rest houses situated on the Tagaytay ridge. I don't know about Robert at the time, but 1994 me was really agog at the whole trip.

We arrived at the place at almost noontime, since we had to wait for everybody else at the meeting point before we left. (Ah, how things change. Those were the days without cellphones, when you said that if you were coming along, you would.) Since we didn't have PSPs or tablets, people actually sat down and talked, if only to shoot the shit about their favorite song, or share some silly jokes, or, as things went during the time, play Truth or Dare.

From a projected group of about 30, we ended up with around 16 or 17 people. There were people from the Kamanava (Kalookan-Malabon-Navotas-Valenzuela) group, where my crush was based, some people from the Manila group, and mostly from the organizers (associated with the Auxiliary Missionaries of the Assumption, or AMA). Since the rain ruined everything, we had no choice but to stay indoors. A good thing since the place was built like a ranch house or the main house of a hacienda.

Truth or Dare was the fun part. Maybe it's just me, or maybe I wasn't just about to play the "all holy" card (which, sadly, a lot of people involved in these things often do). I ended up with showing the white garter of my jocks and mock-kissing another guy on the lips. To be fair, a lot of the other volunteers were really God-fearing people and were very conservative in their ways. No doubt I shocked some people.

It was fun. Overcompensating sometimes has its rewards.

Afternoon came and it was decided that we couldn't go home because the storm had reached its full strength. We played Pictionary with girls versus the boys. The boys, apart from not knowing one another, were not really up to the demands of the game. So we were being badly beaten when some of the guys resorted to the oldest trick in the book - cheating. One classic example I still remember: one guy just put down a stick figure, and in just two seconds, another shouted, "Caveman!" And we still lost. Yup, we deserved it.

Late in the afternoon and the storm at its height, going home was ruled out of the question. Sometime after 6:00 pm the lights went out and the Luzon power grid was knocked out of commission. The place was big enough to accommodate twenty or more people in the bedrooms, but nobody wanted to be alone, especially since some mischievous fellow suggested that the place was haunted. End result: everybody ended up pulling out blankets, comforters, and mattresses from the bedrooms and we spread them all out in the living room.

We managed to get some candles and somebody brought a flashlight. As usual, it was ghost story time...

Throughout the proceedings, I couldn't sneak in a word edgewise with the girl. She was surrounded by her friends, and later on in the day, she was surrounded by other boys who were less circumspect about their intentions. I can't really say right now what made her remarkable - time does have its way in blunting some very obvious truths about people. She was beautiful in a way that was less about her appearance than it was about her personality. That's all I can say.

Later in the evening people gravitated towards their own corners in the living room. Finally it was just three or four of us talking and it was me and her (!) sitting across one another. The conversation was probably about the most mundane of topics, but that she talked to me, almost solely to me was the crowinng point of the day. Well worth it, dude. Well worth it.

Wait... it doesn't end there.

It was still raining when I woke up at around 2 a.m. (my estimate) but the winds seemed to have died down. What woke me up was the touch of somebody's foot on my thigh. Well, whaddya know, it was her right foot! Apparently she didn't like sleeping on the floor and decided to sleep on the couch directly above me. I had acutally offered earlier in the evening for someone else to sleep there, but nobody took the invitation (seeing as how I scandalized some of them earlier in the day, I could understand).

I'm sure the Gentle Reader would ask, what was her foot doing there? Was the foot moving? If it did, was the movement meaningful, as if she were sending a message? To this day, I don't have a clue. I just prayed, and I prayed with all my heart that I wouldn't give in to the temptation that opportunity offered. What can I say? I was young, and for all my sangfroid about these things, I was unsure and uncertain like anybody else.

I'm sure her foot landing on my thigh was innocent, whatever she felt about me. After about twenty minutes, she stirred and turned on her left side, lifting her leg back up to her level. Now that her foot was gone, I couldn't wait for ir to come back, sick puppy, that I was. It never did. And with that, the temptation to do something melted away.

In the morning, we all parted ways. It was a successful trip - for lack of fixed activities, but because we survived the night together, the bonding exercise worked. We packed up, got into our respective vehicles, and drove back to Manila. Tree branches, leaves, and other various debris were scattered on the way home.

I had wanted to ask her if she remembered anything during the night but perhaps a wiser being stood in my way and stopped me. Some time later, she asked our group if we wanted to attend their fiesta in Kalookan, which we did. The highlight of that evening was me managing to break my glasses on a ceiling fan. A story for another day.

About a month after Tagaytay the four of us were drafted into the General Services Committee, to which we only agreed because there was a stipend involved. I lost contact with most of the people in the Volunteers committee and with that, I lost touch with her. We managed to see each other later on during the event itself, but we were too busy with our respective duties that all we managed to do was say hello.

One could say I was an idiot for letting it go like that. How was I to know things would turn out that way? That is what being young is all about.

I remember her today because of that small touch and the foolish way I reacted to it, knowing I will never regain the innocence of that moment. Now, seventeen years past, life can remain so fragile. We human beings, if we so choose, would be weak and fragile instead of strong and proud as we should be. The past month of Ramadan holds that promise, weak as we may be, we gain strength through our faith and devotion to our Lord.

That small touch of humanity is what makes acts of kindness we do for strangers special and blessed. I was blessed to have met my crush, who I'm certain remained active in her way in her parish and was a vessel of giving to others. I will call her Evenstar, though her real name, which is probably after an ancient Catholic see in Syria/Iraq, is just as poetic.

Robert gave me no peace about this Tagaytay episode, and it earned me the name "studing" (pronounced STOO'ding) - meaning I was both a stud and a gay (bading) at the same time. Or maybe he created that name for Jay Pascual, whose long locks, pale white skin, aloofness and quiet elegance made him quite the target of young girls' affections. Jay's look at that time was not quite Goth, but it convinced me adolescent girls would love vampires. As they do now, in a different way.

To the Evenstar, I hope you remember in a good way - with the bleached blur of softness and sweet joy that nostalgia often brings.

Now, time to step away from the keyboard and enjoy this vacation....

Flicking the Blade

2011-08-01T01:37:00.001+03:00

I had actually meant to post my latest rant TODAY but I forgot to change the dateline! Tsk tsk. That's been how long I've been meaning to write, or at least put something down.

Somehow there is some balance in between work, not working, and finding something creative to do. Work is fine, or to use a swordsman's words, the blade remains sharp through gritted, and the blows come swiftly as if the weapon were part of my arm. Still easy knocking that down, not requiring a great lot of effort, though I wish I would. Put in a better effort, that is.

Not working means finding sleep since my mind is active almost all the time. There is always something that engages me, even by just thinking. In the longest of my ruminations I somehow come out with a mishmash of half-baked epiphanies, a few more bits of my symphony of gratitude to God, and all those precious to-do lists to tick off when I arrive at the office.

I do need a hobby. Not just this one, of course. I still shadowbox, but not enough to satisfy me.

Let me mark this space again - later today I will officially begin my duties under another formal superior. Let's see what happens next. I sincerely hope my daft parts don't come out of the woodwork and start experimenting again with my balance. I don't believe so, but this will be my systems check.

Grasp the hilt, feel the weight of the sword, and flick the blade... swing, step, parry ...and the dance continues.

Just a random rant - since I am getting loopy right now - I sincerely HATE all the bandwagon fans in football. Especially if they're ignorant. I can stand the frontrunners, but for the rest? Find something else to give meaning to your lives, you voyeurs. But all the same, these are the people who buy all the tickets and the merchandise just to prove their fandom.

Yes, I think it's just about time to sleep. Sword into the scabbard now.

Move It. Move In.

2011-07-18T10:53:00.005+03:00

I'm moving. Yes I'm moving.

I've been saying this for the last thirteen days and yet nothing has happened.

I have finally equipped my own flat - I don't have everything yet, but I do have enough for my bedroom - except that I don't feel like moving in.

Work has been the center of my small universe and somehow it isn't the same when you close the doors and go home. I am squatting in a friend's flat - but I know this wouldn't last forever. I have to leave.

One of the reasons would probably have to do with the fact that my bathroom isn't completely fitted after I replaced the toilet. I would have to get that finished ASAP. But being indolent when it comes to these matters I will probably procrastinate, again.

I am thoroughly enjoying Riyadh - there is a lot of charm in this city and I haven't gone around a lot yet. Never mind the malls, even though it would be great to walk around in free air-conditioning. But, as of yet, there is still no place where I would hang my hat and call home.

Solemn, Fail.

2011-07-07T12:09:00.004+03:00

The thoughts themselves have faded into the cracks,
Stilled, unseemingly by the mind eager to please.
The morning runs at inspiration have run out of breath ---
The evening jaunts into ecstasy have gone haggard and dim.
Such lies we feed ourselves, never setting foot on truth's hallowed ground
Once the exuberance of ignorance palls, night comes a-stealing
Taking the wonder and smothering it with worries and dreams.
For dreams push ever forward, ever taking us from the moment
While worries burden us with the convenience of the mundane.
That tail of starlight will leave us eventually feeling flush
But when we close our eyes the dream offers no comfort
For life, ever constant and ravaging, invades our helpless nest.

Sudden Death

2011-06-27T14:07:00.004+03:00

A man died in front of our factory as a result of major road accident. Another one may yet die from his injuries.

The highway that fronts us is a major road traveling northward and eastward - it is well-paved but does not have the features that makes other highways safer.

Death is like a thunderbolt - or in this case, like an accident that happens in a split second.

After Hours

2011-06-25T19:20:00.003+03:00

my background music: Bamboo

I am staring at the screen and no words come to mind.
Blank, devoid of anything original.
My only wish is that I had exchanged this lack of spark for endorphins from exercise rather than a long day of discussions.
But I am getting used to this.
If only I can settle my moving in to a new flat the soonest.
Yeah, maybe that will turn the trick.
Finally, payday is coming round the block.

From the Heights

2011-06-21T20:34:00.002+03:00

This is the sunset view from a hilltop overlooking the city of Cairo. I took this with my cellphone camera during my last trip to Egypt Dec 2009/Jan 2010. Not a great shot, given the limitations of my lens and the overall lighting. I just like to think what the view means - a) I actually got to travel to Egypt, even though it was mostly for work, and b) The view from any height has a sense of majesty.

It was Father's Day last Sunday and I found little time to think about my own father. It was almost half a lifetime ago when he passed away, and yet pausing to think about him on some basis is like looking at myself at the mirror for ten straight minutes. I don't have that kind of vanity. I just fall into the habit of acting and speaking the way I remember him doing. To honor him is to do right by what I was given. I may not have had the privileges of some, but I was privileged with the desire to learn.

So what's the connection with Egypt? Nothing really, except that I am happy to cross it off from the places I want to visit. One takeaway from being an expatriate worker is to enrich one's life and perspective from the viewpoints of one's hosts. Egypt takes pride in its ancient traditions. This is all well and good if that legacy is still active in this current generation.

I am not a believer in the authenticity of the so-called Arab Revolutions. I empathize with the youth and the women who wanted the change. But revolutions are not built on euphoria and chanting on the streets. The real hard work must be done by the bricklayers of society, not by bohemians. The ideal is great, but reality does set in after a while. A few more challenges await this country, and I'm hoping they would learn their lessons.

As for Libya and the Colonel, I actually have some sympathy for him given the poor record of the Western nations in armed interventions. Good intentions never guarantee good results, and I'm more than just skeptical of the motives of the allies. But at some point the Colonel has to go to stop the bloodletting, and the hawks in the West who demand his head should realize that diplomacy is the better option to secure a just and lasting peace.

The rest? People's actions can still be deduced using simple chemistry and physics.
You can only hold back the pressure of change for so long, and draconian tactics will set back the people for another generation. That is why expats are still very important in the affairs of the Gulf nations. They have a lot of wealth, but their people are still learning how to use that wealth and acquire the ability to ensure that wealth is self-sustaining. Break the spirit of the people again, and they will regress to children. Only, you can't have these kind of children running around and avoiding responsibility forever.

It is a tough balance to maintain.

Saudi Arabia is capable of change, but managing that change requires some amount of ingenuity and compassion on the part of its leadership, and patience and forbearance on the part of its population. Many theories abound on how to do this - but I only advocate two things - promoting accountability and upholding the rule of law. Naturally, these will run counter to some ingrained behaviors of this culture. In the end, I hope they will succeed.

Now on to the second thing - in some ways, the patriarchal, paternalistic nature of this society is what makes it strong. In excess and in abuse, it is also a glaring weakness.

Yesterday, I became an instrument of this paternalism, using the little authority I had to do so. It wasn't the best way to act, but it was the practical one, under the circumstances. I can't relate the details, of course.

For the first few minutes after the deed was done it was exhilirating. Now I understand why power is the ultimate narcotic. One can ascend to that figurative peak and survey the lay of the land - the people you can dominate as you choose.

The sobering part is that even from any height, you can't cover up the effects of your actions, and the higher you go, the more likely you would teeter and slip... Simple physics indeed.

Who knows what will happen when you take a fall?

On the Rails

2011-06-20T21:11:00.000+03:00

I arrived in Riyadh in the full eye of a sandstorm. I traveled on Saturday afternoon from Dammam and was due in Riyadh in the early evening.

It was my first real ride on an independently-powered train (as opposed to the light rail systems used in mass transportation) and I would say IT WAS A BLAST.

Not an earthshaking thing by any means of course, but it satisfied my initial curiosity about trains. It also helps that some of my most enjoyable moments in movies are about trains or had trains as settings: Silver Streak, Murder on the Orient Express, Narrow Margin, Manchurian Horror Express (outside the Philippines, it was known simply as "Horror Express"), Before Sunrise, and Unstoppable, among others.

Of course it isn't as cool as the movies make them out to be, but Saudi trains are fine by me. Even better than cramped airplane seats. One can complain about the speed but trains are really safe and the best mode of transport overland. I can only deplore why trains are not better utilized in the Philippines but that is a story for another day.

My recent posting is more operational and conceptual - a fact that dawned upon me the first day I came to work. After several years of being in this line of work, deciding what to do becomes less of a chore than proceeding on how to do it, and how soon. Which is the fun part - my brain will take a little backseat while I stick my nose into all the goings-on.

Yes, things could go so wrong. Life has a way of righting the ship, or to use my railway metaphor, derailing is a normal part of life. Getting on the skids may be really tough, but it is important to stay on track and keep on chugging.

If you ask me the homesick question, I have found a wonderful answer: I always yearn to be beside the people I love most. For now I am taking a break from them. They are not encompassed in my immediate space, but they are still there, just the same. The countdown has started.

As for the Philippines? Never mind.

Postscript: I am aiming for a sort of travelogue but then I realize I'm not yet sufficiently mobile to comment. They say Riyadh has its own unique wonders. Let's see.

Mr. Potatohead

2011-06-17T18:38:00.002+03:00

I have lain back several times on my hotel bed in this short week. Being in control of the TV has been a bit of a new thing again, really. Mind you, I have been sort of a couch potato in Manila, though mostly not in front of the TV, but the PC. Watching the tube means I only get to watch what the others get to watch. That means anything my nephew was watching - Playhouse Disney (Disney Junior) Nickolodeon, Animal Planet, Disney Channel, or whatever educational DVD that is playing.

Watching TV here can get to be cloying, since local content is something I don't understand and international content is limited to movie re-runs or watching CNN, the latter of which isn't so bad but one can get heartburn from watching all the depressing news in the world. The hotel does not carry Filipino channels except some public announcement channel - either based in Kuwait or Dubai. Watching that kind of stuff felt quaint, like seeing the plays I produced (haha, even I would say that my work is less than satisfying, at least for me).

Getting back control of the TV? I was expecting to be wowed, as all couch potatoes would, even though secretly in the back of their minds they know they would be disappointed.

Yup, you guessed it. TV has officially become boring.

Now, if only the hotel could hook up wi-fi access in our rooms instead of just the lobby cafe...

In Search of Models

2011-06-17T16:53:00.003+03:00

I'm reading on the La Salle Centennial and I feel proud to be part of that heritage. It isn't just about basketball, of course. My road led me to almost becoming a La Salle Brother, once upon a time.

I am almost tempted to criticize something, as is my normal thing. It is no longer as droll to dwell on something one wants to change when the viewscope needs some cleanng. Yes, some inventory required in my life now.

For now, I will be content with what I have been given. Woody Allen puts it simply - eighty percent of success is showing up. All I have to do is be here, right now, present in body and in mind.

Can't worry too much about the state of the world. The world has gone on millions, billions of years without our intervention as a species. It will unvariably find a way to balance the equation even while we try our best to despoil it.

Can't worry about the state of the land in the Philippines. One day, if I ever get possessed by some need to validate my values, I will run for public office. Everybody's a critic now you can hardly find anyone who wishes to perform. Am in no rush to join that queue, so many others think privilege should come first.

As for my career and state of being, I have tried to do it my way and obviously my way has so many hits and misses. Can't be too shy about that, either. It's either my way or somebody else's. Once, I would have liked to have been like my father - a valued contributor and somewhat of a wunderkind to the organizations in which he served. He had a wonderful gift, that man. He could inspire others merely by his presence, and his clarity of thinking, of getting to the needed point, was amazing. One could remark on his gift's greatness because so much of it was wasted.

If I were my father though, I would have had six kids by now, reveling in the prime of my life, and laying the fuse that would end my life less than twenty years from now.

However, that life has been served. It has served its purpose. In contrast, my life is always renewing itself, on another loop of discovery. I believe I'm overdue. Like the saint for whom I have been named, I have been taking care of someone else's children. It is time to rear mine, whether the fruit of my loins or of my intellect.

I can read as many self-help or management books as I can to look for inspiration, knowing that I am in search of models. Some other guys did it smartly, never deviating from the courses others set for them, trusting that their formulae worked.

I envy their success, because their success gives whatever insight they have gained some amount of credibility. Nobody really listens to the fool who tried to do it the hard way. The masses want their stars to be continuous winners, almost verging on the perfect.

I have the privilege of knowing that kind of perfection is an illusion. Everybody, in some form or other, experiences angst over the purpose and meaning of life.

There is only so much one can do, and that is to act responsibly with the blessings one receives.

I'm in search of a model who has achieved the balance of deriving meaning out of life and finding happiness while doing so.

I hope that person would be me.

Happy Returns

2011-06-14T07:30:00.002+03:00

I shut down writing on this blog while I was in Manila. For those waiting on me to update on this space detailing my life in the Philippines, well, so sorry, this is supposed to be my expatriate blog, not a life journal (though of course it has been, like so, for a long time).

Facebook is the culprit. It has managed to make a mess of the long form of writing. It gives everybody a chance to express an opinion without thinking that stuff through. Fortunately for many, that is just enough for the kind of expression that they need.

I arrived in Saudi Arabia on Sunday morning around 3:00am local time, made my way out of the airport with six others who would join our company at 4:30am, and arrived at my temporary accommodation at around 5:00am. After a short nap and a shower, I immediately reported for work that same morning.

There is enough excitement in me to get started on my job, but I am realist enough to admit that this initial enthusiasm is not the best tool for me now. It should, naturally, fuel my drive while I am adjusting again to life in the Middle East. As with all things, excellence cannot be guaranteed by wishes and words, but must always be validated by action, day in and day out. I can occasionally let off the throttle to give me some rest, but I am ready to blaze some trails.

I won't be defined by my job. Perhaps my reluctance to do exactly so put in me a position to squander a lot of opportunities. I have put myself and others to grief for that - be that as it may, I have squeezed as much comfort and lessons to ensure that I will not be a cautionary tale. Some of the good I put into my life had made that possible, for which I am grateful.

For the next months, while I regain my bearings, I will aim for the job to define me.

There are no red shoes to wear, but in case I am lonely, I will close my eyes and tap my heels together three times, and think to myself, "There's no place like home..."

Keeping my fingers crossed.

I Survived

2010-11-02T02:33:00.006+03:00

It's another rainy day here in Manila, one of many countless rainy days that characterize the All Saints/All Souls Days here in the Philippines. Apt that the world should weep while the souls of the dearly departed rest.

Restless could be the best way to describe how I feel. I wouldn't trade the Philippines for any other land - this is my own home soil - yet staying here makes me wish that I were far away.

It's been more than a month since I returned - I was planning to make a diary of sorts of my (mis)adventures in Manila since my return, but even that lost some of its appeal after some time. In the wake of misinformed posts on social networking media, getting into one's inner psyche for the appreciation of all isn't too healthy. If I wanted to do that, maybe I should launch my own reality show.

That being said, it still feels strange to be waking up each day in my own bed, whizzing into my own bowl, and easing into my own sofa watching cable from the TV I bought six years ago on my second electronics purchase in Saudi Arabia (the first being a handphone). Strange, but still very welcome, is the virtual omnipresence of moisture in the air, if not through the rain, through the humidity.

I MISSED MANILA. Not because there are people here who are very important to me, I literally miss the feel of being here. Of being home.

But now that I am here, isn't it ironic that I want to leave, again?

One can only start appreciating the expansion of time away from the Middle East when catching up with friends and family. All around, people are getting married, having their kids, graduating from this and that, burying loved ones.

Through all that, I hardly felt the passage of time in my own space since I left Manila. I hardly think that a credit to me, since despite my own learnings outside of Manila, my relationship counter still ticks zero.

Naturally, one can never run out of stories to tell to validate or refute the perceptions of others regarding the Middle East, though it's nice to know that a lot of the old stereotypes have changed. Fifteen to twenty years ago, it was about desert heat, strict regulations, and unabiding loneliness. Now, it's still largely that, but it has been overtaken by exoticism and the ubiquity of large shopping malls - a perception reinforced by the glamor of Dubai.

The Middle East is not all about that - it is just as unfair to stereotype the region just as a lot of non-Filipinos stereotype us in their own ways. There is a continuum of culture from the old Arabs to their Spanish descendants all the way to modern Filipinos. I appreciated more of my personhood when faced against the (somewhat) different personalities of theirs. There is likewise a bridge spanning our culture and that of the Indians, but amazingly enough, I didn't (and don't) feel a kinship with them than I do with the Arabs.

Despite the age of the Muslim culture, the Saudis are a young people - younger even than the Filipinos - and they are just coming to realize the amazing potential they have as a people. The insularity of their government, like all monolithic things, will not be able to stand up to the tide of change. I do hope that unlike the West, they will be able to manage and keep some of the beautiful aspects of their culture intact, while spreading enlightenment in areas where ignorance keeps them backward.

People I meet say I survived. Sure I did. I survived six and a half years of working away from home. But in exchange - I learned more about myself and my job, I began to appreciate the shared history of our people and of my hosts, I found reprieve from the daily pressures that make living in Manila a daily chore. How do I put this - once you remove the stopper on a wine bottle - you can't put it back. I understand, more than ever than being Filipino means you don't stop with making it here.

Making things better means going for more - "good enough" isn't going to cut it. Be it in work, in play, in family. I am not in favor of the BPO industry, for some reason (call it my Marxist heritage), but it does prove a point - given the right impetus, a level playing field, and sufficient resources - Filipinos are top-rate professionals who bring the most added value to any organization.

Being good means being better and looking for ways to improve. It can't be patchwork dress presented as a ballroom gown - simply because the patches are made out of gold thread. Patchwork doesn't hide the poor quality of the rest of the product. Expensive paint will not hide wood rot. Flashy dribbling will not disguise faulty passing or ill-timed jump shots.

If we want to deserve the best things in life, we have to start acting that people can expect our best as well.

Gayunpaman, Salamat

2010-09-23T03:46:00.003+03:00

Makatagpo man ng kabiguan
Panindigan ang pagkakamali
At gayunpaman,
Salamat, Panginoon
sa dumating na pagkakataon
sa dakila Ninyong biyaya ng buhay
Ng pamilya at kaibigan
Ng saya at kalusugan
Ng mahimbing na tulog
At paggising sa bawa't bagong umaga.

Hindi magwawakas ang buhay
Patuloy pa rin ang ikot ng mundo
Magsanga man ang daang tinatahak -
Manahimik lamang at maging banayad
Sapagka't naghihintay lamang ang kapalaran
Upang ating hulmahin
At bigyan ng kabuluhan.

Seven months after I had let my heart go free of this place my body is finally physically leaving Saudi Arabia. Saturday evening, barring any hitches, I would board the plane and fly back to Manila.

I have struggled to harden my heart like stone but it is impossible.

Just as it has become the fount of my sorrows, this land and the people I have met in it are forever the source of my joy and my complete personhood.

I harbor no bitterness for the mistakes I have made and while others may deplore the consequences of my actions, I thank them for their concern. Life presents odds and ends to the stories that we write for ourselves. Today's episode may end badly, but faith and hope teach us there is always tomorrow.

After all, through all the difficulties and challenges of life, we are still here. I am still standing. And as long as I am here, I might as well get on with the rest of my life.

Sure, it can get scary. But that's the fun in it. If everything were handed to us on a plate, we'd stop appreciating the beauty and complexity of life.

The Good Book says, "The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?" The lesson for me is - I don't have to understand. All I have to do is close my eyes, make a wish, and believe.

Balot man ng pighati at kaba ang puso ko ngayon, gayumpaman, salamat. Nagpapasalamat ako sa bawat sandali ng paghahanapbuhay ko rito. Salamat nagkatagpo tayo at naging bahagi ako ng buhay ninyo.

In Darkness There is Hope

2010-08-26T18:28:00.004+03:00

We have familiar experience of the order, the constancy, the perpetual renovation of the material world which surrounds us. Frail and transitory as is every part of it, restless and migratory as are its elements, still it abides. It is bound together by a law of permanence, and though it is ever dying, it is ever coming to life again. Dissolution does but give birth to fresh modes of organization, and one death is the parent of a thousand lives.

Each hour, as it comes, is but a testimony how fleeting, yet how secure; how certain, is the great whole. It is like an image on the waters, which is ever the same, though the waters ever flow. The sun sinks to rise again; the day is swallowed up in the gloom of night, to be born out of it, as fresh as if it had never been quenched.

Spring passes into summer, and through summer and autumn into winter, only the more surely, by its own ultimate return, to triumph over that grave towards which it resolutely hastened from its first hour.

We mourn the blossoms of May because they are to wither; but we know that May is one day to have its revenge upon November, by the revolution of that solemn circle which never stops--- which teaches us in our height of hope, ever to be sober, and in our depth of desolation, never to despair. - John Henry Cardinal Newman

I have always found this short piece very inspiring, though strangely enough, I first read of it in William Peter Blatty's "The Exorcist."

More Than Just A Sweet Dream

2010-08-01T22:45:00.004+03:00

Have no decent video of this song. Excellent vocal work by Dianne Reeves and instrument track by David Benoit is so smooth in rising in counterpoint to her voice. One of the staples of my chill-out music during the late '80s, it became more important after we started using it as retreat music.

One thing for certain, my buddy Des used it for a mix-tape of songs he gave to his then-girlfriend (awww, so sweet!). Well, what happened afterward... let's just say it was a learning experience for both of them.

This is dedicated to my little nephew Jeremiah Angelo, who is turning three years old on August 2. One can only truly be home when surrounded by the people whom one loves and loves one best. Only in the land of the loving am I home.

It is natural that as he grows, he will have to deal with the evils of this world, and shadow will one day be cast over his life.

May that day be far from coming. We can only guard against it, as his elders, and trust that our example and the Lord's grace will be enough to guide him on his way.

Ah, worries. What a song and a memory bring. Yes, distress is but natural, to one who is not nourished by the air and water of his native land. I will sleep, and tomorrow, all my hopes will be more than just a sweet dream.

May these words take wing and go straight to heaven, for this supplicant desires nothing more right now than divine inspiration.

"Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul." - Psalm 143:8

It Isn't Just Enough to Mouth the Words

2010-07-29T21:27:00.002+03:00

As I'm writing this piece today I am gently reminded by similar scenes at the close of each episode of "Doogie Howser, M.D." featuring Neil Patrick Harris. I am certain I don't have his IQ, but I would like to think that as an individual who has gone through life the normal (though at times, non-conformist) way, I'll have more mature sensibilities than him.

Or so I would like to believe.

Anyway, I have observed since the advent of more interactive social networking sites my capability to churn out blog entries has been clipped significantly. Gone are the links and other stuff I normally take note of. They're on Facebook. Gone are the smart-ish quotes (they've been posted as shout-outs.). Music videos? Jokes?

That irks me and disturbs me to some degree.

Yes, it's fun to have an audience out there, an audience which is helpless in chossing what stuff you are shoveling. In this case, we could be lucky if you one is some sort of internet maven who can look for unusual but interesting links. I have one such friend, though at times the posts are great and funny, they keep on coming in one after the other, as if the person cannot live without posting something. I'm not derisive, but in the minds of other people whose interests do not intersect, that could be sickening.

(Which reminds me, I'm so glad I've become my own censor since Facebook has become such a G-rated site, it could almost be called G-A-Y. No offense, everyone wants to be happy, right?)

There is that, so sometimes wishing for something gets you an unwanted surfeit of it.

How social networking has risen in the past few years has, for some reason, trivialized the whole process of communication. Our public selves have seemingly grown larger, but then again, our capacity to invent identities online also makes the process hollow.

Words are cheapened with all of this free communication.

It isn't just enough to mouth the words now, you have to think back whether you really mean them.

So Now I am the Boss, eh?

2010-06-30T22:31:00.004+03:00

... And I didn't even vote.

Earlier today, Benigno Simeon Aquino III, or "Noynoy" (now, comes the dreaded, somewhat catchy and absurd, "P-Noy," signifying his moniker for his administration) was sworn in as the 15th President of the Republic of the Philippines.

This new administration is conscious of its symbols. In an obvious break with the symbols of the recent regime, it has done away with the trappings of power and aspired for a simple, street-smart austerity. Or so how the PR handlers of P-Noy make it out to be.

While I watched this morning - the live satellite feed timing into right nicely between my morning shower and breakfast - I could not help but be moved. Yes, I am totally aware that our next President spent his entire life as a virtual mediocrity, always overshadowed by the legacy of his parents, and not even having the courtesy of going against the grain. In this his younger sister Kris seems to have inherited all the bravura of their late father.

But this mediocrity, strangely enough, is so indicative of my own generation of Filipinos, whose most significant inroads to the worldwide consciousness have been drama queens and starlets, boxing champs and sex scandals. When he took to the dais, and with his plaintive tone addressed the nation and the world, it was as if he took the form and shape of WHO WE WERE - a generation lost, weary of self-doubt, wanting both the answers and the relief and not having to know them or what they cost.

It was the voice of a generation wanting to be validated, wanting to hope against the very real and tangible taste of disappointment.

It was the voice which propelled the dream of EDSA.

Katulad ninyo ako. Marami na sa atin ang bumoto gamit ang kanilang paa—nilisan na nila ang ating bansa sa kanilang paghahanap ng pagbabago at katahimikan. Tiniis nila ang hirap, sinugod ang panganib sa ibang bansa dahil doon may pag-asa kahit kaunti na dito sa atin ay hindi nila nakikita. Sa iilang sandali na sarili ko lang ang aking inaalala, pati ako ay napag-isip din—talaga bang hindi na mababago ang pamamahala natin dito? Hindi kaya nasa ibang bansa ang katahimikang hinahanap ko? Saan ba nakasulat na kailangang puro pagtitiis ang tadhana ng Pilipino?

This statement did it for me. He didn't even have to sell me his program of government. Of course it would be foolhardy to fall for this line. Most of the substance of the speech was to send a message to outsiders that it was BUSINESS AS USUAL, and to everyone else in the crowd what they (what we) wanted to hear - a government that is more responsive, consultative, and proactive - to broaden the base of participation for all.

Mere platitudes? Yes, of course. But he is entitled, no, he is mandated to say these things. He made the sale during the elections, now he is in the aftersales portion - he has to show that what is inside the package is all that is advertised.

But on this day, P-Noy captured the element of what was needed by the common Filipino - the admission that he was incapable of doing all these things by himself. For at the very heart of things, to be simple, all President Noynoy Aquino has to do is to show up and be himself. Yes, he is a mediocrity. An idealistic one, yes, like what many of us aspire to be (or like to think of ourselves being), but the right one for our times.

He is the product of our yearning for a simpler time, where good meant one thing and evil was the other. If only things could be so in real life.

Sa mga nang-api sa akin, kaya ko kayong patawarin, at pinapatawad ko na kayo. Sa mga nang-api sa sambayanan, wala akong karapatan na limutin ang inyong mga kasalanan.

To those who are talking about reconciliation, if they mean that they would like us to simply forget about the wrongs that they have committed in the past, we have this to say: there can be no reconciliation without justice.

Braver words have his predecessors said. Harsher means at times his mother had to implement in order to distance her administration from the sins of the past. But almost a quarter-century after People Power, we are still here, a veritable Sisyphus forever pushing the stone of history, tradition, and political culture uphill.

The proof of the cooking is in the eating, I will give him a free pass to show that he is not corrupt. I have my doubts...

Nandito tayo ngayon dahil sama-sama tayong nanindigan at nagtiwala na may pag-asa.

The people who are behind us dared to dream. Today, the dream starts to become a reality. Sa inyong mga nag-iisip pa kung tutulong kayo sa pagpasan ng ating krus, isa lang ang aking tanong – kung kailan tayo nanalo, saka pa ba kayo susuko?

Kayo ang boss ko, kaya’t hindi maaaring hindi ako makinig sa mga utos ninyo.

I often said (maybe not in this space) that the strength of any organization is within its people.

If we are the good bosses that demand accountable government, if we are the bosses that seek the best in the good and perfection in the imperfect, then we have should have nothing in our hearts but hope for our new President and confidence in at least his willingness to try and in his sincerity to be our representative.

If, however, we remain as venal, short-sighted, and cynical as the last administration has turned us out to be... well, I don't have to say more.

It will be just more of the same.

Always laugh at your boss's jokes, it might be a loyalty test.

Post-Traumatic Therapy

2010-06-18T20:28:00.005+03:00

Decompresing almost the whole day after that disappointing loss in the NBA Finals. The Boston Celtics had it in their hands, but they took their collective feet off the pedal. I hate the fact that the Lakers won (and in such an ugly fashion), but the part of me that respects good basketball when it's played says the Black Mamba and his crew, especially El Matador Pau Gasol, deserve their props. I still hate them though.

Saw Korean vampire film Thirst in the afternoon and I'm squeamish as anyone can get (which is why I did not choose to take up the medical profession), and there were enough scenes for me to whimper (picture that, and that is even scarier than the movie). The movie lost steam with a subplot in the middle, but for the squeam scenes alone, the movie was cool! Bonus points for the leading female star for looking like Jennifer Lee of the Viva Hot Babes.

It's the evening and I'm already programming myself for the grind tomorrow. No need to be hopelessly obscure. Today on the whole, is disjointed, and there's no reason to fix it. I don't have pretend to know what it is, since I haven't got a clue.

Segue the Boys from Liverpool with this rip-roaring track. Great piano riff from John, Paul's bass is pounding, and George's guitar solo screams at me from the speakers.

Now if I can only bite someone head's off, if only figuratively, to complete my catharsis.

Rrrrooowwrrrr!!!

Looky-Looky...

2010-06-14T21:58:00.003+03:00

Chilling to the sounds of: The Beatles
Literally chilled by: Zamil Classic Premier (beats the 40C heat anytime)
Chillaxing event to look forward to: Game 6 stomping by the Celtics on the Lakers (Wednesday early morning Riyadh time). Keeping my fingers crossed anyway.
Cool thing but I'm not proud of it: Stealing wi-fi access from my next-door neighbor.

Switched desings to keep it fresh. However, keeping it real in terms of the green theme - I like the Celtics, but I like other green things too - like, uh... (pause)... my high school? The Green Lantern? The Green Arrow? Regan O'Neill's snot?

Methinks Blogger is trying its best to keep relevant in the face of other social networking media. Still, too much useless information comes out that doesn't really make any sense in the end. Sticking to blogging, thank you.

That will be the day when I switch to Twitter. Heck, one day I may eat these words. Keep posted then.

Making Ability Count

2010-06-14T20:26:00.003+03:00

Don't measure yourself by what you have accomplished, but by what you should have accomplished with your ability - John Wooden

Almost lost in the hubbub of the NBA Finals and the opening of the 2010 World Cup was the passing of a legend: UCLA basketball coach John Wooden. I didn't know a whole lot of his life story and achievements until later in my teens, but I do remember him a lot because basketball, much more than excessive alchohol, raucous singing, or womanizing, was the family religion, at least among us men.

Before I was born, it was the main way my father and his brothers, my uncles, displayed their machismo and bravado. I heard once that one of the older brothers, my Tiyong Salvador "Badong" de Guzman, was a highly-rated player and was invited to the national team. During those days, basketball was just reaching the apex of its popularity and there was hardly any money in it. I suspect though, that my Tiyong Badong was making the most of his time as a Customs employee and the cost of paying for the expenses without a backer was hardly appealing (since this was post World War II and the college leagues were just growing, and no hint of commercial leagues yet.)

Anyhow, basketball filled our conversations. My oldest brother had the unique experience of playing basketball camp in his teens when our father was still working for the Goodyear company. My brother had a beautiful release on his jump shot - he was schooled by our father and an American employee at Goodyear encouraged him to develop it further - only when I was watching footage of Pistol Pete Maravich did I notice the similarities.

But this is not a case of "my grandfather had a bigger, better whatever."

In any case, even though basketball was a test of character, all of us kids were directed to hit the books - any fool can dribble a basketball, but not anyone can cure cancer. Or so it went. We went out and played, but we had to study.

We had a backdoor basketball court (roughly halfcourt) where I learned the game and watched others play. My other uncles, my mother's brothers, were far more often at our house and so were their kids, my cousins.

Basketball - and sport itself - are not analogies of life. Sports are life. They offer an insight as to how you approach life. You could guess at somebody's character as to how he conducted himself on the court - never mind his skill (as talent and coordination is unevenly distributed) - but how he relates with his teammates and his opponents.

We love sport because through our sports heroes we can live those values we hold dear vicariously through them. Courage under difficult circumstances, achieving harmony in reaching a goal, practicing continuously to perfect one's skills, playing by the rules and knowing when to bend them, oh-so-carefully-but-cleverly in your team's favor. How we perceive our players and the ones we relate to is also an indication of how well we understand the game, and in turn, how winning on the court, while not the end-all and be-all of our life, could come pretty close in achieving one's personal high-definition personality picture.

The spirit of this post following the first Boston Celtics championship in twenty-odd years still reflects my estimation for people and the game.

You respect talent but don't subordinate your goals or your personhood to it; you take the talent that you have and compete to the fullest of your ability; you dish out the punishment that you can take, and acknowledge that pain is part of the process of winning (or even losing for that matter); you shouldn't stop yourself from trying to win them all but when the losses come, accept that you can't get them all; and when the struggle is done and whether you win or lose, you shake hands with the guys on the other side.

And, one succinct lesson that should always echo for all of us (especially me) - don't settle, don't ever settle. A win is not a win if it was handed out to you. In the end, the prizes lose their luster when they come too easily. Find a challenge and keep to it, never flog yourself for wanting too much but rather for not appreciating the degree of difficulty in time. "A man's got to know his limitations," so says Dirty Harry Callahan. But don't let those limitations, on the other hand, define your lack of desire to do the best that you can.

John Wooden really had it figured out back then.

Just a small postscript since I avoided commenting on the present political situation in the Philippines ---

I may not like Noynoy Aquino, or even profess to have the least amount of admiration for him, but he won the presidency fair and square. He is not his parents and he can't lay claim to their achievements. Which is all the better for him - he has the opportunity to chart his own destiny, free from the "what-could-have-beens" of his father and the "better-times-than-what-we-remembered" of his mother. He may not have the abiliity or sincerity of either, but he does have a chance to make the most of his time.

And this is his time, not theirs. And if we are to make it worth his while, we should make it our time too.

Typical

2010-06-06T22:09:00.005+03:00

In tribute to John Nash, and to illustrate the plight of the worst kind of nerdom.

Sometimes it sucks to be me.

Value

2010-06-01T23:40:00.000+03:00

Every positive value has its price in negative terms... the genius of Einstein leads to Hiroshima.
-- Pablo Picasso

It's Probably Me

2010-05-30T23:15:00.004+03:00

It's almost too easy to deflect the semi-embarrassment that many people expect from me when they ask my age and then ask if I'm married.

No, I'm not married, I would say. There are a hundred different reasons (perhaps you can even say a thousand, if you like) why it is so, and if you choose to believe them, I can start a list. Of course the catch is if you would believe.

Some people just can't get away from expectations. What else is our purpose in life, they would say. Men who hold out being single as long as you have must be gay, are you sure you aren't?

And then comes the right question, to put it into perspective: Do you really want to get married? As if this were a rhetorical question that asks: Do you really want to be happy?

It could be called semi-tragic, but when I answer all these questions most people walk away with two conclusions:

1) That fellow is downright strange.
2) Hmmm. Too picky. He will die alone.
3) It won't be long before he admits he's gay.

Ehem, I seem to be jumping the gun here. If people would bother to listen, before they conclude anything about me, my state of being is simply explained.

(And before I start, since I'm writing parenthetically, there was a time that one of my uncles, in a drunken stupor, debated me on this subject. It was a good thing I wasn't drunk at the time. I could almost quote him word for word. But then, that would be unfair. Abusing drunks that way would be like stealing milk from a baby.)

I am myself, first and foremost, defined only by my BEING.

I am not just someone's son, brother, friend, enemy, employee, co-worker, fellow citizen. Hard as I may try to be someone's husband or life partner, right now I am not.

I am not because several series of choices brought me to this time of my life where I don't have a relationship. Some would say wrong timing. I, on the other hand, would admit that many a time, I had fallen into foolhardiness. Came on too strong too soon for one girl. Came on too weak, too little, or too late for another. Not altogether impossible to change direction, but not an easy task either.

I wish that there would be someone in my life right now, but my wishing won't make it so, and in the meantime, it would be rather stupid of me to wallow in self-pity over my state. I'm like the best friend in the movie who's loveable but for all the wrong reasons. Like Janis Ian, I learned the truth when I was seventeen.

And finally, it would be oh so very convenient to say that I'm gay. Makes life simpler, a lot easier to fall back and become a stereotype. Naturally that isn't fair to me nor is it wise to stereotype homosexuals. They too, have deeper reasons for who they are beyond the understood convention.

So no, I'm not gay. Not even close. Not even that I love showtunes, dig the theater, or appreciate art. Gay people don't have a monopoly on the things I like.

Which goes back full circle - certainly it would be great to be in a relationship, to have additional purpose. But since I am myself, my own being, I am not and will not be validated by a specific relationship.

Wouldn't it be great to have my life defined by one?

I don't know. In the past two years, even here, I've had my chances. But no, still no ring. If it's not other people, it's probably me.

And that's the heart of it - I am not ready. Yes, I have a character defect. No different from others who get married and cash in on all the cliches - including infidelity, marital violence, or abusing one's children. No different from others who embrace misery for the sake of filling the social obligations of a marriage. They picked their poison, and so did I.

For now, I'd rather take the sin of omission.

Being married is not a bad thing - but it is not a good thing to get into because of social pressure. It will happen in due course. I won't be in this state of mind forever, or maybe someone will come along and help me take the next step.

Until then, I am single. I survive.

Epic Fail

2010-05-19T12:01:00.000+03:00

John Mason (Sean Connery): Are you sure you're ready for this?
Stanley Goodspeed (Nicolas Cage) : I'll do my best.
John Mason: Your "best"! Losers always whine about their best. Winners go home and f*ck the prom queen.
- "The Rock"

Thanks to Doug Benc/Getty Images.

I found some semblance of good news when I got up this morning. My beloved Celts won another nail-biter on the road against the Orlando Magic.

I'm sure the casual observer won't care and the rabid fan has probably had indigestion over this piece of news, so I won't rehash the details. Go find sports bloggers.

Just my little take-away from this --- in sports as in life, we have a surfeit of front-runners. And, as with most front-runners, when push comes to shove, instead of focusing, they fold. Instead of rising to the occasion, they crack under pressure.

I don't want to hate on the Orlando Magic, but no one assembles a team of "nice guys" and expects to win the ultimate prize. Cuteness and public relations win you fans, but they don't win you championships. For years, many people hated on the Spurs because they played a style of ball that hardly pleased the crowd. But no one could deny their championship record and performance.

Losers only whine about lost opportunities. Winners revel in making their own luck.

You Know You've Watched Too Much Political News When...

2010-05-18T23:31:00.002+03:00

Falling Down
(Music and Lyrics: Noel Gallagher)
(Oasis)

A summer sun that blows my mind
Is falling down on all that I’ve ever known
Time will kiss the world goodbye
We're falling down on all that I’ve ever known
Is all that I’ve ever known
A dying scream makes no sound
Calling out to all that I’ve ever known
Here am I lost and found, calling out to all

We live a dying dream
If you know what I mean
And all that I’ve ever known
It's all that I’ve ever known

Catch the wheel that breaks the butterfly
I cry the rain that fills the ocean wide
I tried to talk with god to no avail
I call him up in and out of nowhere
Said if you won't save me please don't waste my time

All that I’ve ever known is all that I’ve ever known

Catch the wheel that breaks the butterfly
I cry the rain that fills the ocean wide
I tried to talk with God to no avail
I call Him up in and out of nowhere
Said if You won't save me please don't waste my time

A summer sun it blows my mind
It's fallin' down on all that I’ve ever known
Time to kiss the world goodbye
Falling down on all that I’ve ever known
Is all that I’ve ever known

Wish I could be more elaborate about my state of the mind; well – this is the closest approximation. I could go on and on about everything else – but sometimes silence has the loudest voice, and all I can let out is a primal scream.

There, there. That’s the end of that nightmare. Time to wake up.

Beginning, Again

2010-03-04T18:42:00.002+03:00

The beautiful thing about life is that while you are not ended, nothing happens to you. Maybe that's not such a beautiful thing, after all. The opposite of progress is not destruction - it's entropy.

What I actually meant to say is that - while one lives, there is always hope that things, however bad, dark, or depressing, won't be so forever. All these burdens, they shall pass.

Still, rocky times make for interesting times - or at the very least, a lot of fodder for some overdue bellyaching (in my case, it can never be overdue, with the size of my belly, LOL!). In the past few weeks I had decided to travel and leave KSA, reconsidered and took another job, planned for vacation but never got around to taking it, and then started my job in response to what at best was, being ignored by one's former colleagues.

Yeah, I've got it bad. I should be depressed, maybe shoot myself, even. NOT!

The beautiful thing about life is that when something ends, another begins. In the eye of whatever storm one may pass through, one can still pull out a chance to start something.

Is it all that fun to do everything all over again? I hope, this time, I have learned the things I needed to learn and do something different. Life-altering, even.

Well, maybe.

Spaced

2010-02-17T23:46:00.002+03:00

"And above all things, never think that you're not good enough yourself. A man should never think that. My belief is that in life people will take you at your own reckoning."
--- Isaac Asimov

In the silence of my heart
I listen to You Lord.
In the emptiness of my mind
I submit to Your will.

There is no subtlety in which I can hide
There is no reticence into which I can sink.

Clipped Wings

2010-02-12T08:28:00.005+03:00

Where there is no vision, the people perish; but he that keeps the law, happy is he. - Proverbs 29:18

One realizes that there are just a few paths left when anger takes over. I prayed to God for a resolution to my quandary with my passport, and all signs point out that instead of taking an ill-timed and hurried vacation, I'd rather go back to work.

Mind you, this was not an easy decision and I still feel I need the time off to go back home. But as I have learned the past few months, patience is a virtue I must still embrace. I have to get back to where I started, when the limitations to this place were all mental and my estrangement from the Philippines is merely a mental construct.

I must keep that vision in focus, lest again I fall prey to my weakness and fade away. I forgot that lesson last year, and paid for it dearly.

Of course I could still do it. The problem is, life goes by so quickly back at home they may have more need of me than I of them. I guess, they too, have their own thinking to do.

All Set for Overdrive

2010-02-09T15:02:00.000+03:00

Nobody gonna take my head
I got speed inside my brain
Nobody gonna steal my head
Now that I'm on the road again
Oooh I'm in heaven again
I've got everything
Like a moving ground an open road
and everything

I love it and I need it
I seed it
Eight cylinders all mine
Alright hold on tight
I'm a highway star
--- Deep Purple, "Highway Star"

Yeah! Slot in the tape/CD/USB/iPod to the car stereo system and rev up the engine. My secret desire today is to drive a semi into the office of our government relations people and mow them down in one swift run-over. And if it isn't enough, back up a little and catch up on the stragglers.

I can't help it. I'm yearning to put my spirits on overdrive, and they're cramping my style. Seriously, they really are, but to give them the benefit, things aren't much in their control. On the other hand, most of them are doing so little to change the way they work.

Still, one learning I can pick up from here is that we often demand too much from others as opposed to giving ourselves a break when we fail. If we put the pedal to the metal, then we must do it for ourselves too.

Of course, the sneaky-dark feeling keeps on creeping up once and again. It's the fourth day of passport watch, and if I have to take the fifth I might seriously go "Jeremy" on these fellows. Yes, grasshoppers, run around and beg for your lives!

Scrunch, crunch.

Coming Home

2010-02-08T17:38:00.003+03:00

And the king was much moved, and went up to the chamber over the gate, and wept: and as he went, thus he said, O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son! - 2 Samuel 18:33

I wish I were writing of happier times now as I am making plans for coming home.

I haven’t been in the Philippines for twenty months – longer than usual for me, but not so much as for others who have made a life here in Saudi Arabia.

There was so much drama going on in my life the past two weeks – from the fateful decision to turn my back on my company, to the amazing opportunity made available by one of my former bosses, up to the time I accepted the job offer. That would have ended it, except that I couldn’t travel back to the Philippines because of formalities in processing my documents.

It’s been a week since that day that my life had been stopped and started – a few more dramas like not having funds available from the bank, the tension of waiting --- and waiting. I had packed Saturday evening since my flight was scheduled at 1:10 Monday morning. I could hardly sleep – anticipating, with half ruefulness, that the drama was about to end.

But another moment for drama came --- I received a text from our mutual friend Charlie that Kuya Josue was being revived at the hospital. The gravity of the news hadn’t sunk in yet --- he was being revived as he had already flatlined.

My own story wasn’t over – my passport hadn’t been stamped, it had taken some time for the Labor Office to un-cancel my cancelled work permit. I was on the verge of apoplexy – notice the parallelism – but I decided to let it go.

I couldn’t twiddle my thumbs for the next few hours waiting for a ride home, so I decided to call for a cab and commute to the hospital where Josue was.

What I noticed (even in my somnolent state) on the cab ride was the various roadworks being done around the hospital. It would have been hell trying to get to the hospital – memories of watching my father dying in an ambulance en route to the hospital welling up – I was certain that it wouldn’t be like that with Josue. The man was bantam-sized in all respects – soft-spoken, slight in stature, self-effacing for the most part – but in courage and compassion he was colossal.

I was numb at that point, but I was certain – he’ll get through it. He always delivers in the clutch. There could never have been a more clutch moment he will go through.

I was wrong.

I climbed up the emergency ramp and was met at the lobby by my favorite doctor and the father of one of my former students. His first line was something like, “You heard the news about Josue, right?” and before I could stammer an answer he dropped an anvil on me, “He’s gone, you know.” He had been pronounced dead just five minutes before I arrived.

I made my way to the Cardio-Thoracic ICU at the 5th level of the hospital and came upon a scene from a movie. The camera shutter moves and squeezes out pain from the very air of the place. Death has come into the room, and his grip is unrelenting. Oh, how he has fallen. Would that I had the power to prevent suffering such as this!

One of the things that helped me cope with my father’s sudden death so many years ago was re-telling the story of how he passed away. I watched over him in a lying-in clinic the night before he died, was with him when our family made the decision to move him to a larger hospital, and was in the front seat of the ambulance when he flatlined and died before we got there. There is nothing so excruciating as torturing oneself with those memories, it was such catharsis than facing the alternative – mourning such grievous a loss.

My other friends were doing just that – re-telling the story of how things unfolded, because it helped them cope. He was complaining of some bodily pain the previous night, so they said, but Josue never gave an indication that he was suffering. He was somewhat of a healer himself, he touched other people’s flesh and relieved them of their pain.

In the morning he picked up his wife, Lai, as she got off her shift at the hospital where she worked. He made it to the office, complained of some pain, and instead of going to the hospital, he called his wife so that she could accompany him to the hospital. Perhaps it was some kind of precognition working – we will never know, of course. He drove over to their place, collected her and then drove to the hospital (navigating through all the road work I mentioned), found parking(!), and made it to the emergency room.

After standard triage the attending noticed something irregular (this part isn't clear to me, and I didn’t want to inflict more torture on the storyteller) with his vitals and he was rushed to the ICU. At one point oxygen saturation level in his blood went down, and thenceforth he went flatline, and his doctors called for a Code Blue.

To their credit, they did all they could do to revive him. Two hours later, they accepted the inevitable – he was dead.

There was another movie-like scene as we trooped inside the ICU – life imitating art imitating life. Someone delivered a short eulogy and prayer – and then the tears began flowing. This was a big scene, even so, in a place where death is a familiar guest. Tears are a sign of the living; they are no good for the dead or dying.

I wish I could have shed those tears for Josue, by being a better friend, while he was alive. No portion of life is free from regret.

Looking at him, he seemed at peace. Gone from his face were his cares, his worries. After so many years of waiting, just three or so years back, he and his wife welcomed a child, a boy, into their lives. Life was good, things were getting better. He and his contemporaries were looking forward to seeing the older children finish college and to bring in the younger ones soon enough.

All gone, all seemingly too soon.

I am certain Kuya Josue lived a good life; it is because he left so many things unfinished. No one knows the hour where the Lord will take back the life He has given us; no one knows when his or her time is up.

All we can do in this life is to do as God has shown us. As the Prophet Micah wrote, “He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you -- to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

That we have lived, loved, and fought the good fight, should be enough.

We may have been cheated of having the privilege, no, the honor, of having Kuya Josue a little longer in our lives. I know I have been touched forever by knowing him, by having him as my friend, by his acknowledging me as his friend.

I pray for him so that the angels guiding him will speed him home, to guide him to where he truly belongs, where the Lord, will, in his justice and mercy, say to him, “Welcome home, my son. Welcome home.”

But Zion said, “The LORD has forsaken me, the Lord has forgotten me."

Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me." - Isaiah 49:14-16

Hindi kita malilimutan, Kuya Josue.

Perspective

2010-02-05T11:07:00.001+03:00

Well, this post must come in one way or another.

To our Lord in Heaven, I would like to say thank you for another day in this life. Another cycle has been completed, another year has been hurdled. Of course, it's just any ordinary day.

The world isn't any more special because I was born this day so many years ago. It was another day just like the others that we let pass through our lives.

Because we do. Sometimes, events awaken us and bother us to try and take stock of our existence. For some, it is observing the tides of history as they swirl back and forth and around the important figures in the life of our nation. For others, it is through the fortunes being made, about to be made, and soon to be lost in the world of commerce.

For others it is human achievement in the field of cooperation, in competition, and sometimes with both.

For most it is tragedy, whether direct and personal, or experiences lived vicariously in the lives of others.

My life, in perspective, is no more than the sum of experiences that come to bear on this moment, this reality. It can only be special because others make it so.

My mind tells me, intellectually, that some part of existence has made sense, that I should be glad that I am living the life that I am living now, that I am much more fortunate. I must have wasted more opportunities that life has made available for me than what has been available to others. And yet I am still here.

I am not dead. I am not ended. This life is not without purpose because today, and the past few months, have been personal lows. And yet, yes, I have to fight back my own tears welling up in me, of shame that I have not made the most of what I have been given, and of immense gratitiude that I have been given so much.

I celebrate the living that I have gone through and that others make me feel special and purposeful, even though at times it doesn't feel that way.

There were universes of regret that I went through when former President Aquino passed away. I smile at the people who belittle her contributions to the world stage; at the same time I squirm every time someone utters her name like a benediction.

This generation, my generation, must never forget what the first Edsa made possible --- that we are capable of coming together, inspiring one another, forgetting our self-serving agenda. That was the seed Cory Aquino planted. She tried her best to keep it going during her administration, but in the end, good intentions, and the desire to uproot or destroy the vestiges of dictatorship, are never enough.

The dream was there, but we woke up to something else. And for most, it was that the dream was betrayed, with epic fails at the Presidential Commission for Good Government, the flawed Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Law, numerous rightist coups, and the worst - that the mechanisms for oppression remained, only that new people were in the saddle.

For me, it was that the dream was fragile, and that like most people who had just broken out of jail, the prisoners savored freedom too much but did not want to take responsibility, or did not have the tools to do so.

I cried for Cory because I cried for that part of our nation's spirit that has been betrayed so many times, that, like a battered child, it knows no more than to batter back. But all that child needs is acceptance, and inspiration to believe. When we lifted the veil of mourning, that was the spirit waiting for another chance.

I hope this time Noynoy Aquino and Mar Roxas do something different. My cynicism derides my hope, but I can keep dreaming. So far, the "realists" have embraced the two-faced nature of Manny Villar, or the stolid business-as-usual stance of Gilbert Teodoro. Hmmm, yes, there are some attractions, but there isn't enough deodorant to go around to mask the stench of of decay and corruption.

All around the world, people have forgotten that it was we who made the banner of "people power" soar high. That many of the icons who rose during that period - Lech Walesa, Albert Fujimori, Vaclav Havel, Mikhail Gorbachev - have fallen short should remind us ideals do have a price, and to transform people it is not ideology, but integrity, that ensures success.

Harvey Dent in "The Dark Knight" says it so well- "You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

We have witnessed how things went topsy-turvy when the so-called moral guardians found themselves eating crow when their Anointed One, Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, just didn't turn out any more kosher than Erap - in fact, she was much more manipulative and Machiavellian than anyone expected. It was masterful and deliberate, the symmetry of her destruction has some appeal.

BREAK THE SEALS BREAK THE SEALS BREAK THE SEALS LET TARMON GAIDON COME!

When will we ever learn that the flow of history is against us, and without our own personal contribution, that tide will never be stanched.

I saw a Facebook post from one of my friends showing a YouTube video of "Banal na Aso, Santong Kabayo" by Yano which was filmed 15, 16 years back.

The generation that was ranting for change is the generation that is coming into leadership now. And that's us.

So what have we done so far?

Are we just mere witnesses? What happened to the optimism of "Yes We Can!" or the supposed sea change that was about to come? What now? Have we gotten too lazy, too jaded, to ever see that the light lit in the windy darkness, must now, more than ever, be protected against the forces of that darkness?

Where is the moral outrage now?

Just to put this world into its natural perspective.

And I still think my personal problems outweigh the world's.

It Isn't As Bad As You Think It Is

2010-02-03T21:50:00.001+03:00

An Arabic proverb goes like this: "When what you want doesn't happen, learn to want what does."

I just finished the last post when I realized I should have ended it with this turn of phrase. Things won't turn around quickly, but at least you won't be as miserable while you're digging yourself out of that frickin' hole.

Breaking The Faith

2010-02-03T21:03:00.003+03:00

Stopping updates to a blog is like rending a valued relationship to shreds --- it takes forever to get the tattered pieces back together, but you have to.

Because it feels good that I can be myself in this space, but don't have to be overindulgent.

You got me, Constant Reader (whoever you may be). I broke the faith, destroyed the covenant that binds the writer to his audience. I stopped writing. I lost my voice.

In much the same way I broke the tiny threads that bound this blog together, I pretty much fried 2009 - no great scientific discovery there - and let so many of the gains that I made during my stay here in Saudi Arabia ALMOST slip away.

Strangely enough, I find that most of what I did was necessary. Not correct, mind you, not correct at all, but we're not in the business of being prissy and perfect.

Long ago I already threw away a life of predictability and happiness for a life of meaning. Anyone can fault me, can reproach me for making that choice, and can smile in smug self-satisfaction over this and that material success or recognition they have accomplished.

People, you can do it. I know you want to. Say, "I told you so."

However, to quote one of my favorite existentialists, Mr. William Martin Joel, "You may be right, I may be crazy - But it just might be a lunatic your're looking for."

Face it, you need me. I may be all down and all that, but my karma is good, baby! I'm plugged into the purpose of my universe, and, to continue Mr. Joel's famous quote, "Turn out the light, don't try to save me..."

If it turns out bourgeois mediocrity is where most of us are headed, well, pardon me if I'm not rushing to be in line. I may be slow to the goal, but I'll appreciate all the more for savoring the sweets of the other side.

But enough of that. I almost closed down this blog - I even came up with a post, "Coming Home." Yes sir, I almost did that, but it just wasn't meant to be.

This land has a claim on me for a little while longer.

So, until then, I'll be seeing you around.

Just Because...

2009-11-27T03:06:00.001+03:00

Down in the Hole

2009-08-29T22:14:00.002+03:00

When you walk through the garden
You gotta watch your back
Well I beg your pardon
Walk the straight and narrow track
Iff you walk with Jesus
He's gonna save your soul
You gotta keep the devil
Way down in the hole

He's got the fire and the fury
At His command
Well you don't have to worry
If you hold on to Jesus' hand
We'll all be safe from Satan
When the thunder rolls
Just gotta help me keep the devil
Way down in the hole

All the angels sing about Jesus' mighty sword
And they'll shield you with their wings
And keep you close to the Lord
Don't pay heed to temptation
For his hands are so cold
You gotta help me keep the devil
Way down in the hole
--- Tom Waits, "Way Down in the Hole"

I spent the better part of my downtime watching the complete five seasons of "The Wire" from HBO. It has been some three-odd years since I wanted to see the show, but of course it isn't available on Philippine TV (it took some time before local execs warmed up to "The Sopranos," and then again, still with heavy censorship), and I didn't have access to the DVDs. The show came highly recommended from some of my friends, though seriously I only picked up on it because two of my favorite sports bloggers, Bill Simmons and Jason Whitlock, dedicated an entire podcast to it in March 2008.

The show is gritty, grey, and heavy on realism. Policemen and criminals are treated humanly, i.e. the cops are not white knights and the crooks are not outright blackguards. The show started slowly because of the dense backstory and preparation for future events, but once things got together BAM! I was hooked. For several moments in the show I was waiting for some deus ex machina or some cheeseball endings or events (alright, I have to admit Omar Little's portrayal in Season Five was a bit of a stretch), but it never happened.

Bonus is that most of the guys are virtual unknowns outside of TV, though I recognized some guys like Dominic West (as the dickweed Theron in "300," playing Det. Jimmy McNulty), Larry Gilliard Jr. (as the sidekick to Sarah Michelle Gellar in "Simply Irresistible," playing D'Angelo Barksdale), Frankie Faison, Wood Harris (from "Remember the Titans," playing Avon Barksdale), and my personal favorite throughout the series, Idris Elba (various movies, but the one I remember best is "The Gospel"). Elba's Stringer Bell is, without doubt, one smooth mofo. I don't want to spoil the show for you, you've got to see it.

The haunting title track is amazing. I am seriously looking into starting a Tom Waits collection.

Wizard's First Rule

2009-08-09T21:47:00.003+03:00

"People are stupid; given proper motivation, almost anyone will believe almost anything. Because people are stupid, they will believe a lie because they want to believe it's true, or because they're afraid it might be true. People's heads are full of knowledge, facts and beliefs, and most of it is false, yet they think it all true.

"People are stupid; they can only rarely tell the difference between a lie and the truth, and yet they are confident they can, and so are all the easier to fool."
--- The wizard Zedd, in Terry Goodkind's "Wizard's First Rule"

Watched season one of "Legend of the Seeker" and while it was a departure from the original "Sword of Truth" books, I didn't mind because Bridget Regan, who plays Kahlan Amnell in the show, is SMOKING hot. A little of the milkmaid-type along the Celtic prototype (examples: Lucy Lawless, Katherine Heigl, Meg Foster) but with a bit more character to her face. At least I can get a new inspiration. There's only so much you can get out of porn.

The Tragedy of Being Offline

2009-08-08T22:06:00.002+03:00

This new modern world is just becoming too...modern for me. I mean, getting through the day to finish work and everything else depends greatly on computers, e-mail, decent telephone lines not including handphones.

So when I lost internet connectivity in the middle of June, it was like my world collapsed. At least my Internet identity, that is. I lost track of my Facebook updates. I couldn't sign on for all the Michael Jackson updates, the Farrah Fawcett updates, the rites of indignation over PGMA's State of the Nation address.

And yeah, I couldn't rant about how hard it was to eat crow over the LA Lakers winning the NBA title.

I couldn't express my jubilation when Roger Federer won at Wimbledon and thus pass Pete Sampras in the Grand Slam race among men (People conveniently forget Steffi Graf had 22).

I couldn't say my say about the ongoing turmoil in Iran, or how the current administration in the United States is being hamstrung by its own ideals.

The tragedy of being offline is that somehow you become less of yourself to the outside world. The truth is, you are more of yourself when you are not facing the computer and living life.

(And in the meantime, when my internet bill arrived it was, literally, a hot poker up my ass. It hurt --- I never knew it could cost that much. Lesson learned.)

Simple, But Not Really.

2009-06-10T02:04:00.007+03:00

I'm sure many of you had that sick feeling of just having too much going on, you just want to shut down and stick your head somewhere like an ostrich in the sand. Well, that's how I felt about the past two weeks or so.

Sensor in my brain beeped loud and clear: INFORMATION OVERLOAD! Must shut down!

This whole Hayden-Katrina thing sends one clear message to the world about Filipinos - our concern about our public lives ain't worth no shit, please excuse the bad grammar. The sane things most people forget when they get into the discussion:

1) Private perversions, etc. --- If one wants to indulge in it, by all means get your partner to agree before going into it. Drugs, S&M, voyeurism, you name it, if you want to get into it, don't take unilateral action.

2) Public domain in private perversions --- Why the hell should we care? Unless...

3) Ethics in the public domain --- Hayden Kho, Jr. is a doctor and took the Hippocratic Oath. If he can't stay a decent person, he must, at least, for the sake of the profession, maintain the pretense of being one. Which leads us to the last premise...

4) Things that really matter "in aid of legislation" --- And investigations into the sordid sex lives of boy-toy cosmetic surgeons, the girls who become their thralls, their deluded mothers, or their Botoxed sugar mommies with aspirations to glory shouldn't be daily fare in our Senate. Thanks to the likes of Bong Revilla and Jinggoy Estrada, the circus is in town. Makes the notion of ethics being synonymous with "Philippine Senate" becoming all the more absurd.

As for the so-called "victim" (who ends up the winner in this issue all around, outside of the tabloids and showbiz talk shows), Katrina Halili, I have one message for you - You go girl! If you want to hook up with any random dude with looks or money (preferably both, if I read you correctly), go do it! Screw your way to the top of the showbiz heap if you believe that's necessary. It sure sucks to be notorious (but someone has to do it, 'no?), but it's always a good substitute for achieving success with your rather limited talent.

In the meantime, Congress foists on the Filipino public the monstrosity that is the Constituent Assembly for Charter Change. An abomination so vile I will endorse its abortion if it were a fetus. Jamby hasn't exactly killed off Manny Villar's ambitions with the C-5 scam, but it sure looks like Ping Lacson's withdrawal has been secured with the threat of new investigations. Hmmm, he may not have actually lost here, being kingmaker sometimes beats being king...

Also lost is the fact that for all the good work being put in by our public sector doctors, the Department of Health isn't up to snuff in handling epidemics. Be glad that Influenza A(H1N1) isn't your superkiller, the uncontrolled spread in the past few days shows we don't have the ability to fight back the virus, only to contain it...

I'm glad sports makes up for the vacuousness of life. I wanted Man U win the UEFA Champions League, but Barca winning it, and in such overpowering fashion, is a great substitute.

I'm happy that Roger Federer finally got over the hump and won the French Open this year. It's not the same seeing him beat Robin Soderling in the final, but Soderling beat that cabron Nadal and that's what matters. Glad to see Djokovic getting wiped out early, that fellow needs to be put down a peg or two. Sorry that Roddick isn't cut out for clay, and like Tim Henman, is proof that nice guys somehow don't succeed as much as they should. On to Wimbledon, Roger!

I'm glad that the ho-hum way Tiger Woods is stamping his dominance on the sport is turning me off; sometimes you don't have to witness greatness, just living in its shadow (and besides, I really hate watching golf).

And finally, I find myself strangely cheering on the Lakers in the NBA Finals. Maybe it's true I like mean mofo-egomaniacs like Kobe (who, like Hayden, should be listed as a confirmed sex offender). Maybe I prefer Phil Jackson's sangfroid than Stan Van Gundy's self-deprecation (to be fair, I haven't seen self-deprecation done with so much self-centeredness other than Larry "Nomad" Brown).

Or maybe, deep inside, I hate seeing nice guys like Dwight Howard --- though, in fairness to me, his "niceness" seems more to be a put-on than real. No real nice guy throws his coach under the bus just to flex his "muscles" in the team's pecking order.

Because, maybe, in truth, there are not a whole too many nice guys left.

Lubog Na.

2009-05-30T23:14:00.003+03:00

Bankruptcy looms for GM; Chrysler awaits fate - Yahoo! News

Some Earth Mover...

2009-05-23T10:40:00.002+03:00

Toddler buys earthmover in online auction - Yahoo! News

Now this is starting them early on that consumer lifestyle.

Congrats to the mom.

Underdogging

2009-05-19T06:49:00.002+03:00

So the Final Four of the NBA Playoffs are on and four intriguing storylines coming up:

- LeBron James and the Cavaliers, playing on a seemingly mystical higher plane, coming off two sweeps heading into the Eastern Conference finals with hardly a significant challenge;

- Kobe Bryant and the Lakers, myth of invincibility shattered after being taken to the limit by a scrappy and undermanned Houston Rockets team, troubled by not being able to focus consistently on winning;

- Dwight Howard and the Magic, finally validated by beating a battered Boston Celtics that was running on fumes, after struggling to turn in clutch performances in games they should have won outright;

- Carmelo Anthony and Chauncey Billups on the Nuggets, surprising everyone with their moxie, athleticism, and team togetherness after being written off in the preseason and the Allen Iverson departure.

I'll go out on a limb and root for the Nuggets on this one, even though I traditionally don't support Western Conference teams. Since the Celts are out there's no way I will root for the Magic (who could have been embarrassed big-time had they lost to the Celtics) or feel good about LeBron. Yeah, the kid is phenomenal but give me some time to warm up to him. After all, it took me ten years to like Michael Jordan. (I was secretly rooting for Barkley and the Suns to knock the Bulls off in '93.)

Well, there's Kobe. As much respect I can give to the man, who at this stage of his career is the best basketball player in the NBA (counting team and individual achievements), I just never liked him. Anyhow, it's not really his fault, I would have supported any egotistical bastard like him if he played on my team. Since he plays for the Lakers, I can afford to hate him a little bit more.

So I pick the guys who were ruled out to make the postseason after dumping Marcus Camby and sticking with Iverson. Thank God they threw AI out of town, and probably couldn't wait to scrape his tire-tracks on that team. Chauncey Billups has been a blessing, but after watching this team several times it's obvious that the play of their underachievers Nene, Kenyon Martin, and J.R. Smith has been their meal ticket to success.

Their odds aren't so good, judging by stats and head-to-head match-ups, but with the Lakers showing some wobble in the Rockets series, they still have a puncher's chance to take the series. From there, who knows?

Bawal Maging Emo...

2009-05-18T20:51:00.003+03:00

...kapag natalo ang paborito mong team sa Game 7 ng napakaimportanteng series. Pasensya na, Boston, hindi natin taon ngayon. Maging masaya ka na lang na hindi naman nakakahiya ang ipinakita nilang fighting spirit, at umasa ka na lang babawi sila next year.

...kapag mistulang nireregla ang kasamahan mo sa opisina dahil ayaw
makatanggap ng kahit ano pa mang pagpuna. Banatan na lang nang banatan, trabaho lang naman, walang personalan. Kung mamersonal siya, manigas siya, siya ang talo.

...kapag hindi ka na naman napansin sa sipag na ipinapakita mo. Pakshet, magsikap sigruro magsikap ka na lang ng 70% ng 100% ng oras, mas masaya sila siguro kaysa naman sa 100% sa 70% ng oras, even though mas magaling ka doon sa pangalawa.

...kapag nangangatog ang kasu-kasuan mo at nahihirapang maglalakad. Mas buwakaw ka pa kasi sa buwaya kung kumain ng nakakatabang pagkain. Mas baboy ko pa sa baboy kung lumapang ka ng tsibog.

...kapag iniisip mo ang ating inang-bayan. Iniwan mo nga siya, magrereklamo ka pa. Magpasalamat ka na lang may tumanggap sa iyo sa labas at binibigyan ka ng mas malaking suweldo.

...kahit gusto mong maging emo, dahil OFW ka. Araw-araw, oras-oras, hindi mo alam kung kailan ka pauuwiin, hindi mo alam kung kailan ka uutangan dahil kinakailangan, hindi mo alam kung mapapalitan ang amo, o kung magbabago ang saloobin ng amo mo sa iyo.

Bawal maging emo dahil wala ka sa tunay mong tahanan, at kahit palarin kang kasama mo ang mag-anak mo sa ibang bayan, wala kang pinanghahawakan.

Bawal maging emo dahil baka makalimutan mo kung bakit ka naririto, at malululong ka sa bisyo, sa pakikipagrelasyon kahit ikaw o siya o kayo pareho ay may asawa, o pakikipagrelasyon sa kapwa mong lalaki (o babae). Ang kahinaan, kahit nauunawaan, ay hindi sapat na katuwirang gumawa ka ng pagkakamali o manatili sa iyong kinalalagyan.

Kung magiging emo ka, eh dapat sariwain mo ang simulain mo bilang isang tao, nang matupad ang pangarap mong isang araw, hindi ka na kailangang mang-ibang bayan, at nang sa ganoon ay ganahan ka sa hanapbuhay kahit marahil wala siyang kahihinatnan.

Ikaw lamang makakapagsabi kung magiging piitan ang apat na sulok ng buhay mo, o isa lamang itong pasubok para maiperpekto tayo ng ating Maykapal.

Getting into the Zone

2009-05-16T12:40:00.003+03:00

I'm not really running up my blog posts, but it seems the past few days I've had the opportunity and the inclination to put down some of my random thoughts in this space. Obviously, I'm all over the place, not settling down on any particular one but trying to keep with my various interests.

I also noticed it has become rather "sport"-y here of late, because of the ongoing NBA Playoffs. I'm not into fantasy or other amusements others get into, but I do follow the game almost religiously. That's because basketball was one of the few things the men in our family all got to do and more or less agreed about. We watched the game not from a fan perspective of being entertained, but in terms of how each player displayed his character, and how well a certain coaching philosophy brings out the best from particular players. It was rather ironic (and unfortunate) that I didn't grow up to be athletic - I guess I hit the books more than I did the basketball court, but my jumper was solid and if I played "Base-ketball" (c/o Parker and Stone of "South Park") I would have done a lot of damage.

Anyhow, sports edifies life --- it captures the essence of the struggle of life, and through its duality of cooperation-competition we also get to understand what it means to be human. That sappy NBA TV commercial with the kids and basketball stars on the similarites of basketball and life rings true.

Watching sports, such as a tennis/football match or basketball game, breaks down life into simplicity. Naturally one wants to be a better person, but to get there one has to earn it, get the necessary repetitions, turn the habit first into a skill, then a mind-set. Of course it isn't that simple when one gets to implementation - while I believe in the value of coaching/mentoring, it's something that hasn't caught on with me. I haven't committed to it yet. Someday I will. (As to finding the right life coach...we-ell, good luck son!)

So far, sports has been the only bright spot --- the rest of life these days is a struggle to fight off monotony. As the groups with whom I am associated have no major production at this point (I don't know if I have the "fire" for this anymore) there is no variety in my life. As for romance, I'm not so sure. I am not as sanguine as I would have liked, which is hardly fair to the particular girl in question.

I don't want to make it another "it's not you, it's me" statement, because I like her a great deal - but I'm not doing enough to show it. Besides, no one gets away with that kind of cop-out without being savaged by recriminations (along the lines of "insensitive," "asshole," and worse, "gay!") or racked by guilt (also along the lines of "insensitive," "asshole," and "gay!") Let's say that however I want to change my personal life, I am not prepared to make the sacrifices necessary to make it happen. In my defense, I have acknowledged this failing and am not making any excuses. However, it's rather late in the day and the proverbial window of opportunity won't stay open forever.

As with sports I have to hunker down on my life and build the habit. Do as many repetitions as possible. Watch the form and the release of my shot. Get into better conditioning. Prepare myself for mental and physical breakdowns. Roll with the groove. Get into the zone.

Living life beyond watching sports, or whatever form of entertainment, means seizing the challenge within one's life and not projecting one's life in the struggle of others. If we knock our athletes/celebrities for not doing their job well, why can't we take time to shape up on our own?

Help Me Slash the Music of the Night

2009-05-15T00:18:00.004+03:00

Willing Exile: Phantasy

I'm sharing this video that amazingly captures the childish wonder of Sesame Street (with the puppets), the subject matter of the parody lyrics featuring "Psycho" by Alfred Hitchcock (and I really like those slasher flicks), and finally, the accompaniment of "Music of the Night" from "Phantom of the Opera" (see my previous post, link just above).

Special props to the writers of the song (one of whom also happens to have staged the puppet show) and vocal performers MooseButter, the real voices behind one of the most celebrated videos on YouTube (original lipsync version, by Corey Vidal / MooseButter response video).

Enjoy the show.

Extranjera

2009-05-13T13:55:00.003+03:00

Opposition to foreign wives for Saudis mount

I'm not sure if I follow the slant of the article, but then again, modern journalism has really gone to the crapper these days. But I digress.

The main points of the article are:
1. It is apparent that more and more Saudi men choose to marry foreigners.
2. Things fall apart at home especially if the man already has a wife, since he is likely to neglect his first family in favor of the second.
3. No support can be found for the rising number of unmarried eligible Saudi women.
4. The proposed solution is to ban intermarriage of Saudis and foreigners.

Number 1 is natural since foreign women are likely to be more liberated and by virtue of the cultural barrier, present something more interesting for Saudi men. A no-brainer especially in this repressed society.

Number 2 is not a natural antecendent of number 1; after all, the practice of neglecting and abandoning families is not unique to Saudis. It just seems to be a universal disease among men of any stripe, color, location, or persuasion. And no, I'm not kidding.

Now, Number 3 wouldn't be so hard if this society were more open to employing Saudi women and with that emancipation create the necessary social infrastructure to prepare these young women to actually embark on their own careers and be self-sufficient. As of now? The expectations of the entire cultural mindset (never mind their religion) weigh heavily against women being able to independently provide for themselves. So it is either a woman's father or husband who will settle her place in society. And if you lost the former and have no means to secure the latter, there you have it --- a woman with no means to support herself.

There is of course, the matter of presenting a considerable amount of dowry to the girl's family, aside from the man's family or the man himself assuming the burden of the wedding expenses (as directly opposed to the bride's family sharing or even assming the expenses of the wedding in the West). If this amount were less onerous, Saudi men would find it easier to look for wives.

(Side note: it is not altogether surprising why Saudi men seek foreign women - and men for those of that persuasion -for relationships especially to find an outlet for all those repressed sexual urges. And yet I digress again.)

Fix Number 3 and Number 1 will be less true. Saudi women can meet cultural expectations and yet remain exciting and viable at the same time.

As for the proposed solution - even the most humble Muslim would say that neither the Holy Quran nor the Hadith outlaw a man's choice in spouse unless said spouse is heathen AND unwilling to accept the teachings of the Prophet (peace be upon him).

Some people are just getting WAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY too ahead of themselves. Haven't you read the news? --- the Kingdom is no a longer an island of isolation.

Ouch!

2009-05-12T03:56:00.005+03:00

Lakers' Odom has back contusion, is day to day

Posted using ShareThis

Or as they say in the old neighborhood, "Aray ko po!"

The so-called walk-over by the Lakers suddenly has become much, much more interesting.

Hilarious Fare

2009-05-11T22:20:00.002+03:00

An interesting commercial, and probably reflective of the characters' actual psyches, but the LeBron character is probably on speed at this point and (old man) Kobe is probably feeling his years.

Looking forward to a Cavs-Lakers final, but Celts-Lakers will top that, of course.

Extinction

2009-05-11T00:13:00.004+03:00

GM bankruptcy is almost inevitable

With the bankruptcy of General Motors almost a done deal, it is time to close one of the chapters of modern history - the dominance of American manufacturing. The lack of competitiveness thoroughly exposed by the Japanese during the oil embargo and throughout the last 25 years has finally run its course - and as the old adage goes, the bigger you are, the harder you fall.

I'm not going to pretend I'm an expert here but it's pretty much evident that size and power can only go so far with cars. Of course, here in Saudi Arabia, upsizing is more the norm than the exception, but elsewhere, people don't want to spend all that much money on gas guzzlers. Especially if they drive badly and do not offer much value-added --- Japanese cars take the cake with reliability, while the Europeans have pretty much cornered the market on luxury.

American cars? They are neither here nor there --- too many brands, not enough exciting models, putting premium on muscle when finesse is needed, and on this I am certain --- not knowing enough of the paying consumer.

And the Floodgates Begin to Open...

2009-05-07T14:13:00.001+03:00

Bahrain ends sponsorship system

For good or for ill, this signals a lot of change.

I'm not drinking the Kool-Aid among the "rights" people that this is a great thing so that people working in Bahrain can move freely as regards their profession.

Since the whole concept of human capital is still in its infancy in the Middle East region, and that the paternalistic culture prevalent in the work environment still governs hiring and promotions, this ruling will basically guarantee that the subcontinental mafias (among the Indians and the Pakistanis) will have free rein.

It's not so much as the rights of people to work in Bahrain, but that they are qualified to do so. Or that the correct amount of opportunities are being created and given. Those are the more important questions.

Yes, this openness with the labor market is a great thing. But without the accompanying civil rights, the crowd that will come is a crowd that will be subject to oppression and remain huddled in fear. While Bahrain is a relatively open space compared to dinosaurs of tradition such as Saudi Arabia, it's no cakewalk either.

The lessons of Dubai should ring out clearly --- freedom is only so much of a commodity, but without proper fundamentals, the road from boom to bust is just another oil recession away.

Under the Knife

2009-05-06T00:42:00.003+03:00

Quotes of Thomas Merton: “Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone – we find it with another. We do not discover the secret of our lives merely by study and calculation in our own isolated meditations. The meaning of our life is a secret that has to be revealed to us in love, by the one we love. And if this love is unreal, the secret will not be found, the meaning will never reveal itself, the message will never be decoded. At best, we will receive a scrambled and partial message, one that will deceive and confuse us. We will never be fully real until we let ourselves fall in love – either with another human person or with God." - From Love and Living

It's official - my mother is having her hip replacement surgery sometime this morning Manila time. We (the family) had been expecting this for some time now, but it does not make it any easier for me.

I should have been there in Manila right now to support my family, but pride, stupidity and the difficulties of circumstance all conspired to keep me here. Objectively, of course, there is nothing I can do from here or there to aid in her healing process. BUT THAT'S MY MOTHER! You can exchange all the friends and the lovers in the world, but you will only have one beginning, and one mother.

If I could only be there to look into her eyes and reassure her that this is a standard operation, nothing critical, nothing to be really worried about. Of course half of that dollop I will say is more to reassure me than her.

Sure, it sounds lame that this bears down on me, but it's true. The best I can do, is to do what I always have done - live each day to the best. Well, I am not doing so good in that area, either, not yet 100%. But I'm getting there.

Hoping for the best and looking forward to her recovery.

Finishing the Bulls

2009-05-03T06:00:00.003+03:00

Well, at least today my Internet connection has been A LOT more reliable than yesterday. Whereas I couldn't get reliable audio streaming yesterday, ESPN Radio was really smooth today.

Something to smile about instead of imagining the game from the game track. =)

The Celts walloped the Bulls in the second quarter but they just allowed the Bulls to keep on coming back. Rondo has his first bad game of the series (he was due). Thank God Eddie House's jumper came back to life, Davis and Perkins really played solid games, and some good effort from the bench. And finally, both Pierce and Ray Allen played well consistently the entire game, the likes of which we haven't seen since the Celts sliced up the Bulls in Game 3.

Intellectually, it feels as if the Bulls shouldn't have had made a series of it, but in reality, these guys are DANGEROUS. As is any NBA team that clicks at the right place at the right time. (Recent memory --- Exhibit A: 1994-95 Rockets. Exhibit B: 1999 Knicks. Exhibit C: 2006-07 Warriors).

Now if they can put it all together again next season, watch out rest of the NBA. Thanks Derrick Rose, thanks Ben Gordon and (belatedly) Kirk Hinrich, and yeah, big thank yous to John Salmons (man, isn't that a horrible goatee?), Brad Miller, and Joakim Noah. Tyrus Thomas, get your head screwed on straight, you're one more bonehead play from being a Josh Smith.

I'm both pumped up and drained at the same time. Been up since 3:00am. Now the matador has finished the bull. Looking forward to the series against Orlando, where the Celtics have to conjure up some magic of their own against the Magic.

Quandary: some of the fellows are already set to play hooky just to watch Pacquiao-Hatton. Hmmm...I don't think so.

Edit - and I don't have to do it. This time, the bull gored the matador. Pacquiao in a second-round KO that should have ended in the first round. Told you it'll be a demolition.

Banners

2009-05-02T06:54:00.004+03:00

Just throwing out Green-and-White for the Celtics for Game 7 later today, and the red-and-blue (sorry, yellow would ruin the color combo) for kabayan Manny Pacquiao. Because of the time difference these sports events will occur sometime in the early morning tomorrow.

I expect a Pacquiao demolition of Hatton so that one I could watch via pirated DVD. No need to sweat this one. Dang I haven't seen a boxer this white in a long time (We've got a BLEEDER here!).

Game 7 of Bulls-Celtics? If I could transport myself to Boston to watch the game, shoot I would. But I would settle losing some sleep if our local provider televises the game. Otherwise, it would be business as usual on the Internet.

See, the small dramas of life lose their intensity when the raw fibers of humanity are on stunning display as they are in the Bulls-Celtics series. It hasn't been so ON for a long, long time, since the days when the Celts lorded over the East and Michael Jordan and his gang were still eating Pistons dust (and the Pistons were eating Celtics dust). The only time I felt some emotion in this match-up was when the Celts beat the Bulls at home during Antoine Walker's rookie year, and even if 'Toine happened to be on my favorite team, I never liked his play and his attitude much.

Fast forward to now and as other fans are rushing to see if either the Cavs or the Lakers will be hanging the banner of the 2008-09 champions, I'm not going anywhere. Bulls-Celtics it is, and even as I pray that they will live on to fight another day, I'm hanging a banner right here that celebrates their spirit and their determination to keep on going.

As for the Bulls, you'll get a small bandanna from me, win or lose. Thanks for being such worthy competitors.

Silver Lining, Somewhat

2009-05-01T15:11:00.002+03:00

Sizzling Philippine treats

MMMMMMM.... Yum yum!!!

Certainly a winner!

Just getting homesick.

Bleeding Green

2009-05-01T07:24:00.004+03:00

One of the sorry states of being here in Saudi Arabia is that there just isn't enough meaningful basketball coverage to go around. I mean, in the Philippines, coverage of basketball is even better than coverage of Sunday mass - you can choose which game to see, and you have choices of league --- the NBA, the PBA, college ball, or whatever bush league has managed to get some airtime.

I stayed up until about three in the morning to find out if there was coverage of the Boston-Chicago game (Game 6) on NBA TV. I got geeked up to watch the game (I was able to watch Games 1 and 4, at the least) since the series was really heated and Boston was gamely trying to fend off a younger, fresher, and (perhaps) more talented rival, what with injuries to their most important player, Kevin Garnett and to one of their substitutes, Leon Powe. To think their bench already had a downgrade from last year's team. The young players are doing fine, it's the veterans with whom I have a beef.

They showed the Houston-Portland series. Now, I know Portland is one of darlings of the Internet - among its fans and with a lot of bloggers, for having a system that works and young talent in action --- yup, there is much to like about Brandon Roy, LaMarcus Aldridge, and Rudy Fernandez (Greg who?) --- and that Houston has a compelling storyline with a history of first-round disappointments and a new chip on its shoulder with its highest-profile player (Tracy McGrady) apparently quitting on the team. But dang, I just couldn't bear to watch the game knowing that the real tussle was ongoing.

So I logged on instead and tried to follow the game on ESPN. Of course, I missed all the visuals and the usual commnetary that made watching meaningful, but shoot, was I hanging on every blip on my darned display and even with my neurons half-fried (too much Krispy Kremes, not enough sleep coming from Thursday night)!

Injuries are only one half of this series. The other half is made up of so many great storylines --- from the transcendent play of the point guards (the much-ballyhooed - vindicated many times over - Derrick Rose, and the underrated Rajon Rondo), the feistiness of the veterans of both sides, the decline of Paul Pierce and the rejuventation of Ray Allen, spotty officiating, and mind-numbing coaching blunders.

For much of the flow of the game, it was apparent that the Bulls (and their crowd, from what I could imagine) brought it to the Celtics, proverbially swinging away. The Celtics rolled with the punches, and then swung into counterattack. From his shot chart, Ray Allen was UNBELIEVABLE - the stat line shows 51 points, but the man was in a groove - he was connecting from his various sweet spots, and I could guess most of his shots were under duress. As I was saying from Game 4, they're not feeding this man enough shots. Sure, he stunk up the joint in Game 1, but this guy is running on all cylinders.

Paul Pierce is going to cost Boston the series, if he hasn't already. He basically blew the game in both Games 1 and 4 with missed free throws. To be fair, the young Bulls' nerves need some settling down, but from last year's Finals MVP? Come on! We all know he is the emotional leader of the Celts, but he just hogs the ball way too often, overdribbling and stopping ball flow. He needs to make a lot of clutch shots (and he has made several nice ones) because at times he put himself in that hole.

Can't say enough of Rondo and Rose --- I like the rookie's game more because it is less forced, but shoot Rajon is clearly the engine of the Celtics' train, and their victory in this series hinges on him continuing his stellar play. Alas, he is not immune to mistakes (mainly his questionable shot selection during crucial times), but give him credit, he's only on his third season and much wasn't expected from him coming out of college. But Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose. I hate him being on the other team, but the kid is officially treading the path of other greats.

I finally found some use for my big imagination --- projecting how it could have appeared onscreen, how the players reacted to big plays, especially since this has been a very, very physical series with both coaches coming from hard-nosed traditions (Atlanta/Lenny Wilkens and New York/Pat Riley for Doc Rivers, and San Antonio for Del Negro).

My heart was pulsing (more from lack of sleep I surmise) when the score was tied at the end of the game and we had to go to overtime. I was wondering how the hell they frittered that lead as regulation ended and I found my answer later on - Glen Davis (the Celts' most reliable forward with Garnett out) sat and Tony Allen played. What were they thinking? If they wanted to go small, they could have played Marbury and made use of his speed and ball-handling. Tony Allen?!

The Bulls took the initiative in all the overtimes, and I could guess Pierce played hero in the first overtime. John Salmons (my "WHO IS THIS GUY" of the series) tied up the game and Pierce clanked his potential game winner. EXHALED a little and muttered an obscenity.

Salmons was big again in the second overtime as the Bulls took the lead. But Ray-Ray saves the day with an assist, a long two-pointer (feet on the line), and an ice-blooded three pointer to tie up the game!

On to the third overtime. By now I could visualize the players with their legs all rubbery and joints aching all over. Things went back and forth with the game tied until Pierce lost the ball to Joakim Noah (the Bulls' top agitator), Noah makes the basket, and Pierce FOULS HIM and one! (WTF!)

Well that was pretty much it. Rondo makes another basket off a tip, gets the ball stuffed in his face by Rose on a potential go-ahead basket, and it could have ended right there had Rose made his free throws on what would seem to be an intentional foul by Brian Scalabrine.

Seeing the final score hurt. Apparently they called the last play for Rondo, who took a three-pointer from nowhere (again, to be fair, they had only three seconds left on the game clock) when RAY frickin' ALLEN was frickin' UNCONSCIOUS for the latter part of the game. (AGAIN, A HOOOOOYUGGGGGE WTF!)

Now that I couldn't sleep I just had to write this.

I really wish they would cover Game 7 so I could see whether the Celtics would redeem themselves at home. I won't be able to stand following the game over the 'Net. Not again. I already did that last year on the Celts' win in the NBA Finals. I just want to be there to watch the end of this series, and while I would bleed green if they lose, I wouldn't really mind. Chicago was a worthy opponent, and if they had a better coach, they might have put this series to bed already.

It's not the result, but that I could share in it and be with the team in spirit until the end.

The sun is way, way up and I haven't slept more than 40 minutes in the past 10 hours. Guess I couldn't do myself wrong by grabbing breakfast.

No. 400

2009-04-29T17:51:00.004+03:00

Just to get over with it.

One would think you would need something important to say to get what you need to say, said. (Was that clear? Hmmm.... yes, it is.) But, as Twitter has proven, you can be as trivial as you can bring yourself to on the Internet. As some people may have already said elsewhere, the quality of journalizing has gone from "reflecting on recent events and impressing upon oneself or others a lesson" to "posting your thoughts online as quickly as possible" to finally, "I have nothing else to do and I'm doing this to be with the 'In Crowd'!"

I mean, would you really care that I just took a dump on an eastern-style toilet struggling to just keep my waste from spraying all over because I overate at lunch and ate a bad pear? Would you really care that the front side of my pants (specifically my groin area) is all wet because I was stupid enough not to bring toilet paper to aforementioned toilet? Or that I had to run in between two toilets because some other people just happened to take a dump/read newspapers/God knows what, like, hey, mastrubate in the other available toilets?

Sure, while people won't generally go that low to Tweet or to post updates on Facebook, sometimes, it just isn't that important. The readiness of thought becomes more of a commodity than the depth and beauty of it. While this instant messaging has its own uses, I'm sad that the days of digesting words --- or marveling at the intricacy of well-written sentences --- have simply passed.

The lesson and the challenge then is to weave magic around the most trivial parts of the day and make them magical. Now that's tough.

What Darker Days May Come...

2009-04-29T11:56:00.005+03:00

Statement of the Makati Business Club

THE UNRELENTING SUPPRESSION OF TRUTH

The arrest of whistle-blower Rodolfo "Jun" Lozada Jr. and the filing of 16 criminal and civil cases against him and members of his family are blatant acts of harassment with the object of suppressing the truth about the overpricing and bribery that attended the NBN-ZTE deal.

It is highly ironic that while Mr. Lozada's testimony is now being used against him, the persons implicated in his testimony are still immune from prosecution. No less than a Cabinet member, former NEDA director general and now SSS president Romulo Neri, testified under oath that then COMELEC chairman Benjamin Abalos had offered him a bribe in exchange for the facilitation of the approval of the NBN-ZTE contract. And yet, the Ombudsman has yet to file any charges against Mr. Abalos.

The Makati Business Club joins former President Corazon Aquino and the Association of Major Religious Superiors of the Philippines in expressing our full support for Mr. Lozada and his fight against corruption. We remain hopeful that despite current setbacks to hold erring officials accountable before the courts of law, there will come a time for these officials to account and for truth to triumph in the end. We call on the Filipino people to remain vigilant against all efforts to use our justice system to intimidate whistle-blowers in order to suppress the truth.

29 April 2009

Postscript - I was skeptical of Mr. Jun Lozada from the very beginning, because he said little that was different from what was happening. What has made his journey unimaginable to inspiring to challenging is the crucible of spin doctors, harassment, character assassination, and now criminal charges that the government has arrayed to discredit him. Hindi na nakuntentong pabayaan dahil eleksyon na next year. I am so ashamed and dumbfounded people find excuses for the GMA administration because they have been conditioned to distrust everyone else. Such cynicism is one of the greatest atrocities that our leaders have perpetrated, first with the Estrada administration, then pushed to the limits of decency by the Arroyo administration. One can only hope that there is some learning or development we can glean from this.

Schadenfreude

2009-04-29T00:12:00.004+03:00

1. Nagdiriwang siguro ang mga relihiyong nagbabawal sa pagkain ng baboy. Mabuhay ang swine flu! Ibagsak ang mga oink oink!

2. Sadista lang siguro o mga kontra sa Celtics ang natuwa nung ma-injure si Kevin Garnett at di na makakalaro sa playoffs. OTOH, hayuf si Derrick Rose, idol!

3. Ewan ko lang kung proud pa rin ang mga Indiano sa style nila sa election. Sino bang engot ang mag-suggest na lagyan ang mga hinlalato nila ng indelible ink? Sa posing tuloy nakangarat sila. Panalo!

4. Sabihin nating ma-jinx natin si kabayang Manny Pacquiao, pero magkano kaya ang tinaya nina FG, Chavit, etc. at makakaya ba ni Pacman na matupad ang hiling ng mga ugok na sugarol?

5. Set na ang mga timers: kung kailan mahe-headline ang mag-asawang Judy Ann Santos at Ryan Agoncillo dahil sa gulo sa kanilang relasyon.

6. Saan ka makakapanood ng hero movie na papalakpakan mo yung kontrabida (X-Men Origins: Wolverine) ? Idol kita, Liev Schreiber (just stop appearing in crappy remakes like "The Omen"!), panalo ka bilang Sabretooth! Downside - mukhang advance copy with incomplete special effects and canned music ang napanood ko (hehe, wala pa nga sa mga sinehan, eh). Upside - panalo ang pirata ng pelikulang ito.

7. Ayaw kong mang-api (pero gagawin ko pa rin, hehe, 'lol!) pero ilan na kayang admirers ang pipila para maging syota si Susan Boyle? Ang siste, ilan kaya sila bago lumabas si Susan sa "Britain's Got Talent"?

8. Taong nagpakatotoo: si Nicole ng Subic "rape" case (ay, hindi pala rape, consensual sex pala). Tunay siyang mukhang pera. Pasipol-sipol (pa-dedma epek) - gobyerno ng Pilipinas. Lusot kayo mga tsong! Iwas-gusot sa mga Onaks!

9. Hirit na makukulit na sektor: dagdagan ang party-list representation (kahit walang matibay na pruwebang nailunsad nila ang mga isyu na kani-kanilang "marginalized sector")! Ang kanilang premyo - si "Terminator" Palparan, magiging Congressman.

UPDATE:
10. Bagong drama sa TV - suicide ba o homicide? Nag-umpisa sa "ayan, nasampolan ka na" at "KARMA!", ngayon, misteryo na. Ano na nga ba, Kuya Ted Failon?

Tatawa ka na lang minsan kahit mag-isip ka ng masama sa iyong kapwa. Kaysa naman maiyak ka at ma-depress.

Panalo Ito

2009-04-28T16:49:00.004+03:00

Tunay na Lalake Blog

Alam naman natin panay gagaguhan ang site na ito, pero panalo siya sa akin. Ito ang Manifesto ng Tunay na Lalake:

1. Ang tunay na lalake ay di natutulog.
2. Ang tunay na lalake ay di nagte-text-back, maliban na lang kung papasahan ng load. Gayunpaman, laging malabo ang kanyang mga sagot.
3. Ang tunay na lalake ay laging may extra rice.
4. Ang tunay na lalake ay hindi vegetarian.
5. Ang tunay na lalake ay walang abs.
6. Ang tunay na lalake ay hindi sumasayaw.
7. Ang tunay na lalake ay umaamin ng pagkakamali sa kapwa tunay na lalake.
8. Ang tunay na lalake ay laging may tae sa brief.
9. Ang tunay na lalake ay di naghuhugas ng pinagkainan o nagliligpit ng kanyang mga gamit dahil may babaeng gagawa noon para sa kanya. Mas lalong nagiging tunay ang pagkalalake kung di niya kilala o di niya maalala ang pangalan ng babae.
10. Ang tunay na lalake ay di nagsisimba.

Kapag ginamit ang ganitong batayan, lalung-lalo kung dinagdag pa ang kung anu-anong shit, dahil mahilig ako sa showtunes at mahilig manggaya ng sikat na sayaw noong '80s (para manggago at mang-inis man lang ng ibang tao), eh mukhang hindi ako tunay na lalake.

Talo din ako dahil mahilig akong matulog sa opisina (hmmm, consideration dahil hilig ko rin ang tumambay imbis na pumasok).

Kung may extra points ang number 8 at mga usaping kababuyan, swak na swak ako.

Surviving Saudi Arabia, or the Economic Laws of Expatriate Employment

2009-04-26T19:00:00.000+03:00

(Note: This entry was inspired by a speech delivered by Robina Gokongwei-Pe, journalist and entrepreneur, at the commencement exercises of the University of the Philippines-School of Economics, April 25, 2008.)

I have just celebrated my five years in Saudi Arabia, and while this may not be a worthwhile milestone to my seniors who have been here longer, it is also a significant milestone since this is also the longest I have spent with a single company.

Through the ups and downs of my employment here, including my weight and my waistline, the main quality that has allowed me first to endure, then to enjoy, working outside my native land was the value of persistence. So it is said, “Persistence is the twin sister of excellence. One is a matter of quality; the other, a matter of time.”

In persisting against the difficulties of working in a different culture with several other nationalities, the lessons of schooldays past have impressed upon me the unique situation which befalls expatriates in Saudi Arabia.

Given this world climate where institutions among our top corporations and banks have collapsed in the face of recession, I also would like to share these lessons with you, and you can verify it against your basic Economics textbook.

#1 THE LAW OF SUPPLY AND DEMAND – The standard law of economics, it is simple to note that the demand for affordable workers, plus the continuous supply of higher salaries being paid here than in our home countries, have made employment in Saudi Arabia. While this gives us the confidence that we expats will always have a place here, this also means that this demand, while still strong, may not last longer than we think. We have a joke among my colleagues in Human Resources that he who supplies the money can make all the demands.

#2 THEORY OF COMPETITIVE ADVANTAGE – This leads us to the second rule – competitive advantage. In order for us to retain the demand for our services, we have to continuously upgrade our own skills, not only in our given profession, but more importantly, in the way we communicate and present our ideas. Being in Toastmasters, among other things, can help us sharpen that edge.

#3 COST-BENEFIT ANALYSIS – We all know that there is a labor market out there that is calling out to be filled. However, even if there is sufficient demand, or even if there is competitive advantage, there are built-in costs to changing jobs. For those who recall their choice to work in the Middle East, the transition entails so many sacrifices.

For those who have no families here, being without family is a hardship many cannot endure. For those who do have families here, flexibility is now a premium.

For those who think that they are moving to a better position with higher pay, the uncertainty in this world market gives one very obvious lesson: today you may be in a better position, tomorrow your company may close. Conclusion: if you are in a stable position already and are experiencing sufficient work satisfaction, there is no need to change jobs, no matter how high or attractive the offer may seem.

#4 THEORY OF OPPORTUNITY COST – The next rule is closely allied to the previous one. When considering our careers long-term, we would always consider the packages being offered to us. A better package from another company is an opportunity to make more money, but taking the first offer means we will lose out on better offers that may come along. Or leaving this job means losing the opportunity to be promoted six months down the line.

In the past few years, I have noticed so many people readily switch jobs, going from one company to the other in a virtual criss-cross of the Gulf countries, sometimes not even completing their contracts. One lesson future employers will note here is that this kind of employee cannot be expected to stay. No employer will dare hire a perpetual nomad, because he will think the employee will leave after a while.

This now leads to Rule # 5 or LAW OF DIMINISHING MARGINAL RETURNS – After so many years of moving around, you have gone down in market value, because you have not steadily built a career. You may rake in quick gains, but in the end, your long-term value as a professional will diminish.

Finally, there is rule # 6 or THEORY OF MARKET COMPETITION – Building a career requires a combination of hard work, patience, and oftentimes, just good old-fashioned luck. However successful we may get, we still cannot be too comfortable. We still have to learn new things. We have to face challenges that did not exist in our work environment before. And sometimes, there are just others who will take what we have worked so hard for away from us, fairly or unfairly.

What to do with that? Nothing – it’s just a reality of life. Thriving with competition makes us better competitors – whether at work or in public speaking, or even in talent shows. We compete because this world is based on competition, but at the same time, as long as we are focused on our objective the quick wins are not as important as the long-term victories. We get by as well through cooperation and collaboration.

Surviving in Saudi Arabia is not only for the expatriates, but for the Saudis as well. This is a lesson they can learn from the professionals who have helped build their country.

Persistence, patience, and curiosity – they are among the tools we can use in furthering our careers. Remember, whatever works for you, your career is only one component of your search for happiness. But that is a story for another day, and for those colleagues who have persisted despite the odds, or because of them – congratulations!

Padayon sa Pabrika

2009-04-14T18:46:00.004+03:00

Walang kasintamis
Ang tagumpay ng pagpapawis
Ang amoy ng usok
Ang kaluskos ng makina

Hindi man ako ang siyang
Obrerong nagsisikap at naghihirap
Ramdam ko ang sikdo ng kanyang puso
Dahil ako'y hingal
Sa pag-akyat ng hagdan
Papuntang opisina

Minsan aking nakalimutan
Ang halaga ng paghahanapbuhay
Sinayang ang aking oras
Sa gawaing mali ang landas

Sadyang ganyan ang ating buhay
Hindi maiiwasan
Ang ganid
Ang sinungaling
At matapobreng amo
Lahi man natin
O iba

Wala mang dagliang
Dahilang makapagsaya
Ako'y nagpapasalamat
Ang trabahong siyang tunay na grasya.
Tulad ng mga nagbabanat
Ng buto at kalamnan
Tuloy sa padayon
Dito sa pabrika -

Sa pabrika ng ideya
Magpapanday ng sariling layon
Kahit di maaninag
Ang liwanag ng umaga

Moving (and Moving On)

2009-04-13T16:06:00.000+03:00

The days of spring here are moving on a glacial pace now that the school holidays for the Pinoy kids are on and most of the families I know have made their plans for their annual vacations.

I guess the pace has caught up to me as well. Been in some knot of emotions about how things are going on in the office. I don't like nitpicking about work; being employed is a blessing in these tough times and whining about work seems ungrateful.

However, it is true - I hate the whole situation about my job. It is only my sense of equanimity, or perhaps those bills gnawing at my insides like army ants, that has kept me on an even keel. Certainly I could do with better management, but as Johnny Rico says in "Starship Troopers" - "I'm your guy, until I'm dead, or you find someone better."

Trust me on this one, I'll be dead before they'll find someone better. At least for the price they're paying.

I have made peace about this situation but I need to do more. If I don't excise the negative influence it has over me, it will poison the rest of my life.

As it is, I feel that I am not a good person right now. At least the kind of good person with whom I am comfortable. Much too self-absorbed, methinks. Not even giving time to the people I have professed to care about.

The only bright spot in all of this is that I have moved offices (yet again), so that I can improve at the very least, my "physical karma."

But I'm marking myself down here, I must put myself in a position to move on. I'm too old to be acting like a petulant child.

Regurgitation

2009-04-01T17:21:00.001+03:00

Flashback to an episode one might have seen on the Discovery Channel, National Geographic, or Animal Planet : the she-wolf, back from a successful hunt and feeding, makes her way to her cubs, and she regurgitates the chunks of meat from her stomach to feed her young.

As life goes on, events keep on happening, some good, some bad, some with purpose, some without, some planned, some surprising.

My life IS. There was the struggle to say what I needed to say - on the other hand, the more I lived the ideals by which I wished to live, the less I wanted to say things about them. I wanted to make my life THE STATEMENT -- and it worked for a while.

For quite some time, yes. Yeah, and Facebook is cool too.

But I need to express my feelings as well --- for my writing, just like that she-wolf, keeps on regurgitating chunks of my life for me to sort out.

Sometimes blogging is flagellation --- and the ones who don't notice aren't living their lives. But I do, or at least I think I do. This internet footprint demands a bigger span, and so I must.

I can't say that it would be the same ME on this space. Certain events - and people - have made my life much more interesting. In time I will write what I believe is reasonable exposure for me and for them (them to be more carefully handled, of course).

So here I am again.

Waxing Sergio

2008-11-22T19:07:00.004+03:00

This is for the inspiration that Sergio Mendes gave to me when I hardly appreciated music. I am thankful my brother got hooked to Sergio just about the time I was starting to like music. To think I could have been influenced by Hagibis!

A perennial favorite, and always sums up my best thoughts when I'm in love with someone.

LIKE A LOVER
(Alan & Marilyn Bergman / Nelson Motta / Dorival Tostes Caymmi)
(Sergio Mendes & Brasilia '66)

Like a lover the morning sun
Slowly rises and kisses you awake
Your smile is soft and drowsy
As you let it play upon your face
Oh how I dream -
I might be like the morning sun to you
I might be like the morning sun to you

Like a lover the river wind
Sighs and ripples its fingers through your hair
Upon your cheek it lingers
Never having known a sweeter place
Oh how I dream -
I might be like the river wind to you
I might be like the river wind to you

How I envy a cup that knows your lips
Let it be me, my love
And a table that feels your fingertips
Let it be me, let me be your love
Bring an end to these endless days and nights
Without you

Like a lover the velvet moon
Shares your pillow and watches while you sleep
Its light arrives on tiptoe
Gently taking you in its embrace
Oh how I dream -
I might be like the velvet moon to you
I might be like the velvet moon to you

How I dream I might be like the morning sun
How I dream I might be like the river wind the river wind
How I dream how I dream I dream
I might be with you

Oh how I dream -
I might be like the river wind to you
I might be like the river wind to you

How I envy a cup that knows your lips
And a table that feels your fingertips
Let it be me, let me be your love
Bring an end to these endless days and nights
Without you

Like a lover the velvet moon
Shares your pillow and watches while you sleep
Its light arrives on tiptoe
Gently taking you in its embrace
Oh how I dream -
I might be like the velvet moon to you
I might be like the velvet moon to you

Breathing Hope

2008-11-13T09:24:00.003+03:00

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This post is dedicated to all the folks that loomed large in my life and for reasons of distance and time, or perhaps the onset of death, have somehow been "forgotten" or submerged underneath all the muck and scree that litter my mind nowadays.

I haven't forgotten you at all, it's just, well, it's just I'd like things to be great when we see each other again. I believe we will, someday.

The biggest solace I get from having to live without most of my family and friends near me is that somewhere out there, the Divine is breathing hope into the world, sometimes like the sunrise in the picture (taken at Khobar Corniche, courtesy of one of my friends), or that I can poke some fun at myself occasionally for taking some things too seriously.

One lesson I learned from one of my friends from way back is that you can have all the drama in your life if you want, but then at times you have to switch it off to stay sane. The song doesn't exactly share that message, but I remember Bobby P and those days of youth when we had little more to think about but sing about our life's dramas and wish for more inspiration and challenges. Those are the days I would like to share, one day, with young people of my own.

For the days in Palawan at Holy Cross College, with Anna, Gina, Rommel, Janice, and Bobby P ... those few days of teaching (and learning from) our retreatants were my breath of hope that kept me going for a long, long time, the fumes of which have left a lingering fragrance which will stay with me for the rest of my life.

HINDI NA, AYOKO NA
(Regine Velasquez)

Noong iwanan mo 'ko
Hinihintay kong marinig mo lang ang
Tinig ko
Sa bawat tawag ng pangalan mong
Binihag ng bigat sa puso ko
Ngayon, ika'y naririto
At ang sabi mo'y, 'ika'y akin mula ngayon
Iwanan na sa limot ang noon,
O giliw ko, narito ako!'

Biglang ligaya ang naramdaman ng pusong
Kay tagal nang naghintay sa iyo
Ngunit ang dulot niyang sakit ay di malimot
Ipagpawalang-hanggan mo man
Bulong ng puso ko ay, 'hindi na, ayoko na'

Puso'y mas malakas sa isip ko
Tibok nito'y di patatalo

O kay ligaya ko sana ngayon nandirito't
Aking-akin na'ng pag-ibig mo
Ngunit darating ang panahong di ko malimot
Ipagliban mo na lang sa iba'ng pag-ibig mo
Pagka't ayoko na, ayoko na!

Ngunit ang dulot niyang sakit ay di malimot
Ipagpawalang hanggan mo man
Sigaw ng puso ko ay, 'Hindi na, ayoko na...'

My little prayer to get me through tough patches:

Father in Heaven, I know everything that has happened to me is because of what I've done and freely chosen. You have given me signs - the people and events in my life to show me what I must do. I can't ask you anything more than what you have given, but all I ask, for this time, is a breath of hope that will get me through this.

And Now You Have It...

2008-11-11T08:39:00.002+03:00

Binay declares candidacy

It's hunting season again, fellas! Trot out the hare!

I hope we had learned something from the conduct of the US election, not because of the by-words and slogans used by the candidates, particularly Barack Obama, but by the way America encourages discipline among those with ambition. Secure enough grassroots support, slug it out in primaries before launching a national candidacy.

Some people may doubt the electoral college, but I believe it works wonders for voting.

The multiparty system doesn't work, it never has, and it foments division rather than creating genuine party-line differences. For the same reasons that the parliamentary system didn't work in the country, we should abandon this feature in our basic laws.

However, this should get interesting over the next few months as we will find out who is "oppositionist" or not as the forces will begin to re-align and coalesce for the 2010 elections. There are rumblings there won't be any elections (surely an opportunity on which some personalities close to the President would gladly latch), and so far, we haven't seen a candidate who has a value-proposition other than changing the occupant of the Palace. Hmmm... I will stay tuned.

Soggy

2008-11-07T17:24:00.004+03:00

We just finished our first HR monthly meeting under our new manager last Wednesday (so we finally had our first shot as a group).

In the meeting, I realized that I had a really solid year. If only... well, if only I took care of myself better and laid off depressing thoughts... think Bill Clinton's presidency without Monica Lewinsky. Pristine ... a few bumps here and there, but not bad altogether, even though he did start his presidency with so many scandals hounding his public image...

Hmmm, come to think of it, the only thing I would like to share with Bill Clinton would be, "Successful with the ladies." Tsk tsk, torpe ka kasi, boy!

So the cycle of recriminations has to stop and I'd better give myself a break.

Life works - stop throwing wrenches into the gears just to make it exciting, buddy!

I stared down into the read-out of our home weighing scale and it read 260 pounds. Holy crap, holy marshmallow man, Batman! We've gotta do something!

It's a soggy day today, the kind of day where you would like to lie in your bed and laze forever... only to find out next day is not meant for the lazy.

Shoot, I'm hungry, I gotta eat (rubs stomach). Shawarma run, shawarma run!

No Title to Peddle

2008-11-06T10:03:00.004+03:00

This image is an homage to the late Michael Crichton, who passed away on Tuesday. I was a follower more of the movie adaptations of his books than the books themselves - having seen "The Andromeda Strain" (1971), "The Terminal Man" (1974), "Rising Sun" (1993) "Jurassic Park" (1993) "Disclosure" (1994) "Congo" (1995) "The Lost World: Jurassic Park" (1997) "Sphere" (1998), "The 13th Warrior" (1999), and "Timeline" (2003). I only read the Jurassic Park novels and "Eaters of the Dead" (the sourcebook for "The 13th Warrior"). Crichton is a master at making scientific conjecture very plausible to the reader, especially the ones who have illusions of understanding the science in the novels.

This image is also a reminder that much has to be done to end the dinosaur politics of old. The win of Barack Obama, I hope, will be the start of the mass extinction of the old kind of politics. On an aside, I kind of snickered when Madam Gloria tried to congratulate candidate Obama and he didn't give her the time of day - obviously, he gave more time to people he considered more important. She probably would have done better sending him a sweet SMS. Aren't we Filipinos champion texters of the world?

I do hope that President-elect Obama lives up to the hope (not the hype) that buoyed his electoral campaign, from the time he took on the Hillary Clinton juggernaut to roundly beating McCain.

For all the media coverage, this win appears like the ultimate anticlimax. It seems all the fears of a McCain uprising and Republican comeback were mere wisps of smoke. This was supposed to be a titanic struggle - a real nailbiter. It ended up like watching the Celtics wax the Lakers in that ho-hum six-game series last June. The anticipation built up nicely, but the elections were hardly competitive.

Still, throughout all the cheers of the crowd, and the attempts at introjection of the unscrupulous and the wily to give handshakes and pats on the back, only the true faithful understand how far the winner had to travel just to get to the battleground. Rooting for ignored or forgotten causes and hard-luck teams does have unexpected and over-the-top rewards - the unbelievable rush of euphoria being the first.

Here in the Middle East, the Arabs (at least the ones I meet) are roundly congratulating everyone on the Obama win. Nationalities from other countries are pretty much saying the same thing — the end of the Republican reign means a fresh start. Life, at least for one day, has suddenly become rosier, and the prospect of a better world isn’t all that hopeless.

It's funny how most Filipinos fail to see the need for an overhaul --- ours is one of the few countries that actually wanted John McCain to win.

I would candidly say that my support for Obama was guarded even though his message and the image he presented were very powerful - as is my hopes are guarded over what his administration can do to turn things around.

It doesn't change however the slight tinge of delight his win brought, as if my belief in the inherent goodness of humanity has been somewhat validated. Just speaking for myself, of course, but looking at the jubilation all over the world, if in this way Barack Obama has already affected billions worldwide, just by being there, it's encouraging to see that there is hope for us human beings after all.

We can, if we so choose, live as if everything we believed mattered, and so everything we do in support of that belief matters.

(As my post title goes, there is nothing to peddle today, so I have no catchphrase in my title today as well.)

Heavyweights

2008-11-05T09:43:00.003+03:00

The HR Department. Two members not shown - the guy holding the camera, and one of our Recruitment guys who is now in the Philippines supporting a recruitment trip.

I am not talking about my relative size (as you can see the pudgy fellow in stripes and glasses standing to the left), but the way HR has impacted our company in the last few years.

Hope we can see more heavyweights in action in the future...

And by the way, loving the fact that Barack Obama will now take office as the 44th president of the United States of America.

Sea Change

2008-11-04T10:42:00.003+03:00

Hamilton is youngest F1 Champion

Iverson to Detroit for Billups, McDyess

Within today, the American electorate will elevate one man to the Presidency -- whether it will be war hero, former test pilot, and self-proclaimed maverick Sen. John McCain of Arizona, or former community organizer and neophyte Sen. Barack Obama of Illinois.

I believe a sea change will happen after this election, whomsoever wins. It's not a matter of politics, it's a matter of necessity.

There are issues greater than the American economy (significant as it is, but not at all world-ending); chief of them is achieving a new equilibrium in the world order. If America is to remain the chief arbiter of world events, it better get its house in order.

Meantime, there is a sea change in the world of sports - Lewis Hamilton is the youngest champion in Formula 1 history and the first one with African roots. I've always been a Ferrari fan, but they screwed up their own title chances this year. So Lewis won this year fair and square (he should have won last year, too, but last year he was the one who choked on his lead).

In the Association, Pistons president Joe Dumars shipped 20004 Finals MVP Chauncey Billups along with starting power forward Antonio McDyess and reserve center Cheikh Samb to Denver for Allen Iverson, thus ending the era of the superstar-less team. So sad. I wish they would have succeeded again, but in the NBA, star value counts far more than it does for the other pro leagues in other sports.

While I'm rooting for Obama to win, as he is better-posed to do so than McCain, I'm more thrilled to see how both teams make adjustments. Detroit is prepared to take a step back now, so that its future will be secure, while Denver is struggling for a direction which only a true point guard can establish.

Here's to some sleepless nights waiting for the games...

Weeping Blossoms

2008-11-03T13:25:00.004+03:00

Funeral Blues - W. H. Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

This was already popular before John Hannah recites it in "Four Weddings and a Funeral." Just a dark day.

I'm not about to apply the mood-buster. I will revel in this dark mood to support those who have lost most dear to them. Like flowers, grief is something we can freely partake; a state that we never run out of.

In time, it should blossom and we will find a source of joy.

Worlds

2008-11-02T16:46:00.001+03:00

There is a poignant line in the first ring of stories in "The Gunslinger" (first of the Dark Tower series by Stephen King) where Roland Deschain, the last gunslinger, is forced to make a choice - whether to pursue the Man in Black, or to leave behind his young ward, Jake Chalmers, a boy transplanted from our reality to his world.

Jake says, "Go then, there are other worlds than these."
... and from there he plunges to his death.

El Día de los Muertos - the Mexican expression for the Day of the Dead - is a national holiday of celebration, of mirth, in Mexico. It has, somehow, crossed the Pacific with the galleons to the Philippines, where the animistic rites and Chinese traditions also have a high reverence for those who are past. One of the most common customs is the making of elaborate altars to welcome departed spirits home. Families go to cemeteries to fix up the graves of the departed, and oftentimes vigils are held.

Filipinos have an obsession for the dead, sometimes more so than for life. In death, slates are wiped clean, and fond memories, once embittered by too much pain or too little affection, come to surface once again. A person, once fallen and clasped by the Hand of Death, undergoes beatification and becomes a saint.

It isn't really like that with me, only...

Sometimes I dream of the what-could-have-beens, lives hidden within the possibilities that were left hanging when the dearly departed pass away. Or at other times, I think about the never-weres, but still more powerful are the potentialities of the what-should-have-beens --- the events of my life that should have been the correct course were it not for crucial missteps, careless mistakes, losing struggles to venality or convention, and most of all, glaring omissions.

Of course, there are truths which are but shouldn't be, because we could do better. Or that we should do better. I can't say much for the rest, but I know this world could be a brighter place if I smiled more, or if I gave much more of myself.

There are worlds, and there are worlds of possibility. For some, the possibilities have been too palpable, too reachable, only to be stymied in the end.

It would have been great had my father lived longer, if he had not driven himself to drink in the last few years of his life. But that, too, has its own worlds of possibility - if my brother hadn't suffered a mental meltdown that would eventually become the cross our family would bear - it's frustrating to think what kind of present we would have had. My brother had always been the good son, the helpful one, the supportive one. Just thinking of what he could have been - a successful architect, for one - is so painful it could make my heart stop.

I wonder how things would have turned out had I gone on to be a lawyer on the one hand or La Salle Brother on the other...

I stopped this post just right here. I received an e-mail advice that Marcial Soriano, co-founder of SHARE and one of my mentors and "big brothers" during my high school and university days, was murdered this morning by one of his domestics. Details are sketchy.

A part of me is saying I should mourn more --- but the shock, like the shock from losing a limb, is still paramount. There is the foreknowledge that our lives could end any time, but there is also the hoping (or the denial) that it wouldn't happen to me or to anyone I knew personally. This loss is devastating --- the only way I'm protecting myself is to think of this in abstract terms.

Of course I'm just fooling myself.

Last night I lit a candle for the souls of the departed in my life and prayed for them. There is the faith that these dearly departed have gone on to a better place, and that's just it, all I can go on is that faith.

There are more worlds than these, but this world in itself, with all its beauties (and mirrored in ugliness as well), can be so fleeting if one doesn't take the life one has in hand, and, in Thoreau's terms, suck the marrow out of it. Sometimes the road is hard, and wishing is so much easier. But we do walk this road, and death is waiting at one end. I believe something else awaits on the other side, but all I can do right now is live this life as best as I can, as much as I can.

It could end a lot sooner than I would like to believe.

Who'd Win in 'Pinas?

2008-11-02T13:30:00.001+03:00

This is a cross-post, originally posted in Jessica Zafra's blog, in response to her question, "Who would receive the Filipino vote, Obama or McCain?"

My response, with a few additions ---

Obama will win the election in the Philippines. Obama is masa, McCain is snotty, rich, and most of all, old. Even if someone would say, “Ayoko sa negro” more would say, “Ayoko sa amoy-lupa!”

Obama is populist, a publicity-hogger, and he is far more entertaining on-screen than McCain. His minuses would be: he would lose the endorsement of the bishops, the businessmen (who love the O&O industry)., and probably a segment of the Fil-foreigns. Pinoys look more on the messenger than the message - look, we’ve lapped up Ronald Reagan and as a nation, could “forgive” Bill Clinton. Obama has macho value.

Obama also has more cash! Did you hear how much he spent on that infomercial that almost locked in all the major networks to broadcast his message? A guy who is willing to throw away that much money on his media campaign could probably, ehem, share the wealth a little to his poorer brown brothers.

I disagree with those who say the Pinoys would vote McCain because he is white. The American-based Pinoys, yes. The common Pinoys, who are looking for someone who poses more of a sympathetic figure, would go for Obama. I’ll mention one other thing here that will swing the race for Obama — going by the political yardstick, he would also win over the INC vote.

Obama wins the sportsmen, the tambays, the noontime-show crowd, the telenovela crowd, you name it. The guy can entertain.

On the other hand, he loses points among the semi-educated who pretend that they can see through his overspending, hyper-gimmicked, celebrity-filled campaign. And what it means to the kind of government he will have - more taxes, more welfare, etc. McCain is the smart vote daw. Yeah, they said that about Salonga too, and look what happened to him.

Joe Biden is a liability to Obama - he’s a traditional politician, he appears to be snobbish, run-of-the mill, someone who comes from a small state, and in most perceptions, a specialist who could only talk politics but can’t do much else. Those guys never win big-time elections (and Biden’s record in the primaries shows exactly that). Hillary would have been the slam-dunk choice (if we are talking Filipinos, of course.) Naturally, Obama wouldn’t pick Hillary - otherwise, he might end up just like JFK (knock on wood!).

Other thoughts … If we can split the ticket, Palin would win hands down. All she has to do is carry a tune, show some legs and cleavage, and sound somewhat intelligent and controversial at the same time. Look, we are still swallowing the dollop Miriam Santiago doles out. Palin is a reminder of the young GMA --- supporting a trapo, carrying some political capital, has some popular appeal... maybe she and GMA can be really, really, close. Scary.

I would say Palin would even have better chances to win the election than Obama, if they went head-to-head in the Philippines. Golly, that would be a natural disaster.

I Thirst

2008-10-20T16:14:00.002+03:00

Questing for Water - CNN.com

All the water in the world - and not enough to drink.

Something to Look Forward to...

2008-10-19T14:58:00.002+03:00

Sample Chapter: A Dance With Dragons by George R. R. Martin

I just hope this book will be worth the wait. Good thing I haven't been reading A Song of Ice and Fire as long as other fans have; otherwise I'd be pulling out my hairs by now.

Witness - Robert Jordan passed away before the last book of The Eye of the World series was released. And I was starting to hate the series by the release of the eighth book (and continued grotesquely in the next two volumes). Book 11 was a recovery, but I don't know if the writer the estate hired to finish A Memory of Light would be able to match Jordan's effort.

Keeping the fingers crossed.

Pop Quiz!

2008-10-18T09:36:00.001+03:00

Something I haven't done in quite a while...

You Will Die at Age 79

You're pretty average when it comes to how you live...

And how you'll die as well.

What Age Will You Die?

You Are Emerald Green

Deep and mysterious, it often seems like no one truly gets you.

Inside, you are very emotional and moody - though you don't let it show.

People usually have a strong reaction to you... profound love or deep hate.

But you can even get those who hate you to come around. There's something naturally harmonious about you.

What Color Green Are You?

13,155

2008-10-11T22:49:00.002+03:00

SWEET BABY JAMES
(James Taylor)

There is a young cowboy, he lives on the range
His horse and his cattle are his only companions
He works in the saddle and he sleeps in the canyons
Waiting for summer, his pastures to change

And as the moon rises he sits by his fire
Thinking about women and glasses of beer
And closing his eyes as the doggies retire
He sings out a song which is soft but it's clear
As if maybe someone could hear

Goodnight you moonlight ladies
Rockabye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose
Won't you let me go down in my dreams
And rockabye sweet baby James

Now the first of December was covered with snow
And so was the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston
Lord, the Berkshires seemed dream-like on account of that frosting
With ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go

There's a song that they sing when they take to the highway
A song that they sing when they take to the sea
A song that they sing of their home in the sky
Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep
But singing works just fine for me

So...goodnight you moonlight ladies
Rockabye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose
Won't you let me go down in my dreams
And rockabye sweet baby James

Well, this isn't about the number of days since this song was released, but it does come close.

It isn't the monthly salary I first drew when I realized that I was really, really, really a bad employee (I made somewhat more, but as it goes with salaries, they are never enough...)

On the fact of it, in the scale of things, the number is less likely to be remembered because it isn't even a prime number (13,155 is divisible by 3 and 5).

As of today, these are the number of days that I have been living. We keep on thinking about the fortunes that we are about to make, but this is a treasure that may not just add up, no matter how we try --- the finite value of our lives.

For some who have much in this world - it just shows that no matter how much your estimated worth increases, there isn't much to add to your life, especially if you're throwing it away following your career.

For others who have much, much less - while it can be said that time is the great equalizer, it all makes the good times more precious than they seem to be.

For those like me, it's a gritty reminder about the sacrifices we have to make, though it's not much of a sacrifice when I can fill my world with just about any diversion I can afford. Still, the clock is ticking on the time I should be spending on parenting, the meter is on and it keeps on piling a value I can never recoup or ever pay for.

The timer is on and there is no answer for me but to accept the circumstances into which I have put myself. And to accept and value the self that is the result of these circumstances. In time, time that I may never seem to have, the road I tread will show me that which I seek ---

So for the while, I will rock myself to sleep and please, please, don't let me go down in my dreams.

No Restitution

2008-10-07T09:41:00.004+03:00

Teehankee goes free

I didn't follow this case when it hit the papers --- at that time sensational crimes of passion were rather du jour and the Hultman-Chapman slaying, however tawdry it was, was, well, little more than a soap opera.

The whole affair, given the slam-dunk guilty verdict, lacked the machina, the driving force that would make people go up in arms. It was rich people killing rich people --- and despite the tabloid material, the motive provided showed the victims as more venal, less tragic figures than those of bad melodrama.

But still. Whether or not she had a death wish, or put herself at risk by associating herself with her eventual murderer, Maureen Hultman did not deserve to be gunned down while begging for her life, a sacrifice to irrational jealousy and uncontrolled pride.

Now this - I can point out to many of the symptoms of the moral bankruptcy of the current administration of the Philippines, but this, this pardon and release takes the cake. See, I don't believe in the death penalty, but neither am I a believer in forgiveness without restitution.

They couldn't even put him in jail for the number of years his victims lived on this earth, the lives he stole away. And for what? So that the President wins a few points from the press? So that political debts can be paid?

Of course, not everything revolves around politics or the need to please political barons. Maybe there is justice, maybe there are glorious epiphanies spinning left and right around the person of a freed man. Maybe he has been transformed.

There are loopholes in the system, loopholes that can be twisted to the advantage of the learned and the sly, and most importantly, the rich. The system could have stopped it. But it didn't.

The bigger question it, could it, with a moral bank account so bereft even 20 bailouts won't even make a dent?

Overheard

2008-10-05T22:56:00.002+03:00

It's late in the evening on this my nth birthday. As I sit back and relax, knowing nothing will come about with moping, I'm just glad that there is still some fun to be had in this life.

Scene 1

One of my colleagues went on his morning jog during the long Ramadan Eid holiday and since he was out of the exercise habit for the past few months, he was literally out of gas by the time he was back in downtown Khobar (he lives some blocks away from the city center). A Saudi in a swanky sedan stops by before him and asks him where the Rahmaniyah mall is. Since the fellow asked nicely, he found nothing amiss and even offered to get in the car and lead the way.

(Now, getting into a stranger's car in Saudi Arabia is a major no-no, especially if the driver is a Saudi or Pakistani, as even heterosexual men are not guaranteed immunity from sexual assault.)

By the time they got to the mall, the driver fielded another question, a specific corner somewhere off 1st street. As soon as they round the street to that corner, my colleague spotted an overtly homosexual Filipino waiting there. Before he could show his dismay at the turn of events, he pressed the proverbial panic button and asked to be let down.

We couldn't help ribbing him about helping to pimp a fellow Filipino.

Scene 2

Three of us buddies had nowhere to go during the long Eid break so we went on a joyride along the causeway to Bahrain. At least there was some sightseeing to be done, and we could while away the time pretending we were not in the Middle East.

Well, we did land in some other part of Asia - the Indian subcontinent. The causeway checkpoint area was literally choked with Bangladeshis --- with a smattering of some Arabs and (if any) a few Filipino families. It was a disaster. Had I known this, I would have thought of going to Halfmoon Beach.

The second part of this story is very much like the first --- after the longest time to find a parking space (I even fell asleep during this wait), we got out and went to the Kudu outlet (Mickey D's was full to almost bursting). I was ordering for the three of us when I felt a hand brush against my left butt cheek. I first thought that someone would make a play for my wallet --- but this someone had other ideas, apparently.

Beside me was a disheveled Saudi who had obviously too many drinks or had too many puffs of shisha. He ordered a bottle of mineral water, (which was only SR2 at the place), and made an obvious hand gesture pertaining to sex on the counter. I was too dumbfounded to even get angry. (Oh, the horror of it all! HAHAHAHAHA!) While paying the bill, he flipped through his wad of bills (mostly fifties, the cheapskate!) as if I would bite on his line. I really wanted to pull out my wallet and show him my wad of two-hundreds, but that would be pushing it. Eventually the schmuck saw he had no opening and gave up.

I gotta stop wearing these form-fitting shirts, but I just can't --- I've gained 20 pounds in the last three months! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Scene 3

This story is from an earlier incident within the month of Ramadan. I was late for the practice of our kids' concert, and I flagged down a cab to get to our headquarters. As per my custom, I sat in the front seat, and I knew from the beginning I was in for a rough (if short) ride.

Some Pakistanis and Indians take pride in their potency by NOT taking showers regularly. In this driver's case, he must have been at it for at least a month. The blast of musk from him was like a vibranium shield. WHACK! --- the odor from him came wave after wave. He smelled like the inside seam of my underwear after a horribly sweaty day. He WAS the lining of my underwear with the way he smelled.

The bad thing was that we were held up a few minutes by traffic and only good manners (and a really hot afternoon) prevented me from opening the window. Speaking of underwear...the only way I could bring myself to tolerate the smell was by pretending that the smell permeating throughout the cab was from one, hot, steaming female sex organ.

(Sub-tangent point: their theory has been proven! Not taking showers = getting people to think about sex! HAHAHAHAHAHA!)

I was so grateful I got off the cab I even thought of giving the driver a tip. Those seven-odd minutes were among the longest in my life.

I wonder if I'll remember the guy the next time I'll have sex (yuck!).

Scene 4

Some memory of India - rain had come and some portions of the new airport road in Pune had puddles in them. I watched a fellow brush his teeth, rinse his toothbrush in the puddle water, and brush his teeth again. And oh, one of his kids was taking a crap out on that same street.

Wonderful.

Such is life --- I've never known how good I've had it until I see someone scraping his life from somewhere around the bottom of the barrel. I just peeked into the bunghole and ehem, I guess I'm happy with my lot, for now.

Happy birthday!

Just Another One of Those Days

2008-10-03T02:24:00.005+03:00

RUBY TUESDAY
(The Rolling Stones)

She would never say where she came from
Yesterday don't matter if it's gone
While the sun is bright
Or in the darkest night
No one knows
She comes and goes

Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I'm gonna miss you...

Don't question why she needs to be so free
She'll tell you its the only way to be
She just can't be chained
To a life where nothing's gained
And nothing's lost
At such a cost

There's no time to lose, I heard her say
Catch your dreams before they slip away
Dying all the time
Lose your dreams
And you will lose your mind.
Ain't life unkind?

Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I'm gonna miss you...

(Note: What with the demise of our free connection in the flat, am left to have later posts with earlier post dates. Cannot be helped, unless I pay!)

The smiles are wide, and the blast of the stage lights blaze a warm glow into the photographs as the performers and their families pose for the camera.

The fathers buckle down to work in dismantling the set - thankful for the lack of necessity to do more than usual as another community group volunteers to take down our decorations since they would re-use our set-up.

I peer into the eyes of the newly-initiated, suffused with an inner light of both relief and triumph. Relief that the fears did not come true. Triumph at having gone through what they have done. They are an object lesson in the challenges of life ---that the living is all about NOW. I hope time and consequence will not dim the light that is within them.

These children are truly the light of the world precisely because they are young and have the power of dreams in them. There is always the seed of darkness --- doubt and anger and self-loathing --- doing nothing perpetuates all of these. But it does take energy and effort for us to bring forth light. The Stones do talk of this thing - catch your dreams before they slip away.

Confucius says, "The object of the superior man is truth." Truth is, I was somewhat awed by the effort of the kids in performing for this concert. No ifs, and no buts. If I had to do this all over again, I would of course want to do better. But as it is, I am happy with what they have accomplished.

I am, however, disappointed at the level which this performance connects with me.

I am tired, awfully tired of doing this. It breaks my heart to say so, but I am burdened with the realization that I am struggling to find meaning with what I am doing in this organization. This isn't necessarily a bad thing --- what's done is done and the past, while meaningful, is conveniently, well, past.

I love the kids. I always will, and part of me breaks when the times pass and we must move on. Perhaps I will learn, in time, to heal myself. Maybe if I have my own kids.

Maybe.

Now, after all the storm and thunder of the grand presentation, it turns out to be just another one of those days.

Princely

2008-10-02T09:25:00.003+03:00

Eid Mubarak!

In keeping with the season, I'm posting a hodgepodge of statements derived from Antoine de Saint-Exupery's The Little Prince, though some passages are paraphrased in order to make it more substantial in Filipino. It was intended to be delivered before an audience for a Closed-Eye Process.

Alam ninyo, kay tagal ko nang gusto kayong kausapin. Siguro sa ngayon hindi pa ninyo ako kilala. Hindi naman mahalaga talaga ang aking pagkatao, pero baka magtaka naman kayo at sino naman ang kumakausap sa inyo. Tawagin na lang ninyo akong Munting Prinsipe, pero hindi naman dahil sa maliit ako ngunit sa dahilang naghahari ako sa napakaliit na planeta sa kalawakan. Minsan, napadpad ako dito sa inyong mundo. Marami akong nakilala at nakita, at marami rin akong nalaman ukol sa inyo, mga tao. Sana, hayaan ninyo akong magkuwento. Kaunting panahon lang, kaunting oras ng iyong pakikinig.

Siguro, sasabihin ninyo, sino ba itong nanghihimasok sa amin? Ganyan na nga ang gusto kong ipaliwanag sa inyo. Minsan kasi, napansin kong napakatigas ng ulo ng tao, kahit wala siyang kaalaman, nagmamalinis at nagmamarunong. Ngunit, sa katotohanan, hindi naiintindihan ng tao ang tunay na kahulugan ng kay raming bagay. Masyadong nakatuon sa mga pigura at sa mga numero. Tingnan mo lang kapag sinabi mong mayroon kang nakitang bahay na napakaganda at may malawak na hardin at malinis na pader kung paniniwalaan ka o bibigyan ng pansin. Ngunit kung sasabihin mong nakakita ka ng bahay na nagkakahalagang limang milyong piso, aba'y sasang-ayon sila sa sinabi mo't tatanungin ka pang, "Nasaan ang bahay na iyon?"

Ganoon din sa tao. Hindi naitatanong kung mabait at tapat ang iyong kaibigan, at kung malinis ang kanyang pagkatao, ngunit ang itatanong sa iyo kung pang-ilan siya sa pamilya, sino ang kanyang pamilya, kung saan siya nanggaling at kung ano ang kanyang trabaho. Kung ibibigay mo ang kasagutan nais nilang marinig, hindi na sila magtatanong.

Maraming nang nakalimutan ang tao dito sa mundo. Isa na dito ang bisa ng pagsasama. Ito ang mga tipong nagsasaad ng mabuting pakikitungo at pakikisama ng tao sa kanyang kapwa. Ang isa pa ay ang ritwal at rito, na siyang tumatawag at humahalina sa tao upang pagtibayin ang kanilang pagsasama. May ritwal tayo tulad ng pakikinig, ng pagsasalita nang may paggalang sa iba, at nang pakikiramdam sa pangangailangan ng iba. Wala tayong matatamo kung wala tayong kusang makisama sa iba. Ngunit, wala ring halaga ang ritwal kung pagmamalasakit ay kulang. Walang halaga ang buhay kung walang tunay na pagmamahal.

Kaya naman siguro hindi na nakikialam ang tao sa isa't isa, nag-iisip ang karamihan na masyado silang importante. Siguro, ang akala ng tao ay napakahalaga nila dito sa mundo, kesyo malaking lugar ang nagagamit ng bawat isa. Sa totoo lang, mapagsasama-sama natin ang anim na bilyong tao sa isang napakalaking plasa sa kahit anumang malaking siyudad. Kung tatayo lamang ang lahat, magkakasya ang lahat ng tao sa lugar na mayroon sukat na 30 milya pahaba at 40 milya palapad. Magkakasya ang buong sangkatauhan sa isang maliit na pulo sa gitna ng dagat Pasipiko.

O, e ano ngayon? E ano nga kung sa totoo lang ang tunay nating halaga ay nakasalalay din minsan sa ibang tao. E ano nga rin na kinakailangan din natin ang iba? Maaari nating tulungan ang isa't isa, hindi ba? Paano? Simple, makinig tayo. Bigyan natin ng kahalagahan ang bawat isa. Amuin natin ang isa't isa. Mapapaamo natin ang isang tao sa atin sa pagiging maaalahanin, sa pagiging maunawain, sa pagiging mapagmahal, hindi dahil mayroon tayong makukuha sa kanya, ngunit dahil siya ay taong may halaga tulad natin.

Ang mga bagay na napaamo ng isang tao, ang mga bagay na binibigyan niya ng halaga, ang siya lamang niyang nauunawaang tunay. Ngunit palaging gahol sa oras ang tao para umunawa ng kahit anuman. Binibili na kasing yari na ang mga bagay sa mga tindahan. Pero hindi ka naman makabibili ng pagkakaibigan at pagmamahal sa anumang tindahan sa buong mundo, kaya nagkukulang na ang mga tao sa tunay na kaibigan. Kung naghahanap ka ng kaibigan, paamuin mo ako. Paamuin ninyo ang isa't-isa sa inyo. Narito na kayo lahat, mga taong nangangailangan at nagtataglay ng tunay na pag-ibig.

Sa paggamit ng puso't pakiramadam mo lamang makikita ang tunay na halaga ng isang bagay, sapagkat ang mga pinakamahalagang bagay ay hindi mababatid ng ating paningin. Sabihin nating maihahambing mo ang isang tao sa isang rosas, na mahina at madaling masaktan, na kailangan ng maasikasong pangangalaga. Paamuin mo ang isang rosas. Mahalin mo ito. Ikaw ay may tungkulin sa lahat ng bagay na iyong napaamo. Sapagkat napaamo mo ang isang rosas, ikaw ay may tungkulin para sa kapakanan nito.

At sabihin din nating namumunga lamang ang rosas na ito sa isang sulok ng kalawakan, at dahil mahal mo talaga ang rosas na iyon, sapat na siguro sa iyo ang pagmasdan lamang ang mga bituin sa kalangitan. Sasabihin mo sa iyong sarili, "Naroroon ang aking bulaklak sa kalawakan..." Ngunit, kung nakain ng isang tupa ang bulaklak, anong mangyayari sa iyo? Hindi ba maglalaho ang liwanag ng lahat ng bituin para sa iyo? Ganito rin ang halaga ng iyong pag-ibig para sa iba. Maganda, ngunit dapat nating alagaan.

Ngunit huwag na huwag ninyong kalimutan ang inyong tungkulin sa inyong sarili, at baka maabala kayo ng tuluyan sa iba. Sapagkat sa huli, ikaw lamang ang makapagsasabi na ika'y mayroong nagawa. Samakatwid, titimbangin mo ang iyong sariling iyong pagkatao, ang iyong halaga. Ang gawin ito ay ang napakahirap para sa marami. Mas mabigat na pasanin ang husgaan ang sarili kaysa na ang magbigay ng pasya ukol sa iba. Kung karapat-dapat ang sukat mo sa iyong sarili, malaki na ang nagawa mo.

E di saan tayo ngayon tutungo? Kayo ang bahala, kayo naman ang may kapangyarihang humubog sa inyong kinabukasan. Wari ang aking mga salita ay munting paalala lamang, tulad ng aking pangalan. Pansinin ninyo ang inyong kapaligiran, pansinin ninyo ang inyong mga sarili. Mabuksan sana ang inyong mga puso sa pagmamahal. Pakinggan natin ang taginting ng mundo.

Cinematic Escape

2008-09-25T10:05:00.006+03:00

"Don't be dismayed at goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends."
--- Richard Bach, "Illusions"

I finally completed watching the entire season of "Death Note" (Kuro-Hana)and it re-kindled my love for a lot of things Japanese. Shikata ga nai, it can't be helped. This fact has no relation to the rest of this post. I just had to say it; that's all. The aforementioned quote is apropos as more change comes into my life - even though I am somewhat insulated from it, as I am living here in Saudi Arabia. Every phone call, every meeting, every e-mail is proof positive that life offers a short time for us, and exacts a heavy price. The best way, then, to pay for it, is to be in the moment NOW.

Which reminds me, I just have to share my thoughts on a movie I saw on the plane from Mumbai to Bahrain last month on my way back from my India trip.. This is U ME AUR HUM (You Me & Us), directed by Ajay Devgan, topbilling himself and his wife, Kajol.

I don't know to which film this movie pays homage --- there's certainly enough fodder from movies like "The Notebook" or "50 First Dates", but somehow there's something about the movie that takes an unexpected turn which made it more memorable than either. That is, if you do like some amount of melodrama. Please read on if you do.

The first half is rather talky, and the pace was quite slow (and of course, I was on the plane, de-stressing over my travel), so I didn't pay attention to much of the dancing-musical numbers. The premise is rather simple --- a young man makes a half-serious wager with his father over how well the latter can pick up a woman. So the son chooses a middle-aged woman from a table somewhere across the restaurant and this is where the father tries to score some points.

Enter the story of Ajay and Priya. Ajay, a twenty-something psychiatrist, meets Priya, a cocktail waitress working on a cruise ship, and is promptly bowled over. With the help of his friends, Ajay woos Priya. Naturally, the girl gives him the cold shoulder. The lovestruck idiot, however, breaks into her room, reads her diary (more like a scrapbook of her hopes and dreams), and using this privileged information, gets the inside track on her heart. In saccharine fashion, Ajay is guilt-stricken and 'fesses up, and she drops him quicker than you can say "cliche!"

Somehow, they get married and this is where the fun begins... well, she doesn't get disfigured and we have to watch some Florence Nightingale tale, but it's something along the lines of the two earlier movies --- and something that tests the limits of their love. The story in itself is rather homespun, but it does have an unusual receptivity to the supporting characters, and has a much more layered take on the way men and women fall in, and out of love. Of course, the central tenet is the responsibility people take as regards the people whom they love --- do we love because we feel better about the person, or that the person needs our love?

The best moods of the movie are the dark ones --- though sometimes the visuals are rather contrived, and while there is some attempt at levity, including a misplaced music number (danced with incredible zest by Kajol, and awfully treacly at that) in the middle of the heavier dramatic sequences, the serious stuff in the movie works best.

Some of the scenes are real heartbreakers --- as someone who has a close relative dealing with mental illness can truly attest --- which again puts into focus what we value out of our relationships. How many mainstream romantic movies have you seen where the hero confesses that he’s pushed away the woman he loves because she was a millstone around his neck?

Like "The Notebook," this movie succeeds in taking the conventional themes of the genre and gives it additional texture. One warning though --- those people who have no patience for dialogue shouldn't watch it. And oh, of course, get one with good subtitles.

Puppy Power!

2008-09-16T10:47:00.002+03:00

Dog dials 911, saves owner - CNN.com

Someone has got to love this story.

I know I do.

Underdog, anyone?