An inspiring painter

Local news reported inspirational Filipino painter Joey Velasco passed away on July 20. He died of kidney cancer complications yesterday afternoon.

I had the privilege to interview the great artist last year for a personality profile to be published in the magazine I was then working with. He warmly invited us to his meticulously designed home. As we entered his house, much of his paintings were leaned against every wall as they were freshly taken out of the package from an exhibit in Cebu.

He truly had an amazing story to tell, much of which were already featured in the news (e.g. Probe Profiles). He was not born an artist nor did he never had formal training in painting. He described this talent as a sudden God-given gift that had saved him and could save others by sharing through visuals of the Lord’s love.

I asked him if anyone had offered to buy his paintings. He told us of a time a great patron wanted to buy his most famous painting Hapag ng Pag-asa. He was at the point of selling his painting when his grade school son left a note for him. I had the privilege to read his son’s letter which he took out from his pocket aloud for the group.

His son, only seven then, begged his dad not to sell the painting to anyone as he will work hard to earn a great deal of money to be able to buy painting. I remember myself in tears as I handed the letter back to Joey.

Early this year, he gave me a call. It was even embarrassing that I forgot who he was at that moment of the call and he had to remind me that he was “the painter”. We talked a few about the article on him and he then asked me of my work in the magazine. When I mentioned that I had already left that job, he immediately mentioned that he intended to ask that I write for him a few essays on his paintings. He wanted to provide an artist perspective of his paintings through words.

I’ve always wanted to get back to him on that as he said there will be another time for that. Obviously, there will not be another time but his offer then inspired me to try art reviews as well.

I will be posting a few essays on some of his paintings that touched me as a tribute to the painter that has inspired me to write.

feminist

“You are in no way a feminist,” our Canadian friend told me.

Kuya Jonell asked me last night how my driving lessons went. I told him I was having problems with the clutch simply because I couldn’t very well reach it, even if I had pulled the seat closest possible. Simply said, I find myself rather too small to drive a Pajero.

Of course, Kuya Jonell and Darell found it very funny and I have nothing against it. However, Darell reacted a bit further.

“You’re going to have other problems in driving as well, because you’re a girl.”

I don’ know if it was my activist side that burst out but I realized myself talking without thinking, as if offended to what maybe an unintended comment.

“What problems? That I would not be taken seriously as driver? That girls are unusual drivers? That girls are not so aggressive on the street and that if a man damages my car, he would take advantage to put the blame on me simply because I’m a girl?”

“No. That was a joke, a guy joke.”

Well actually, it didn’t matter to me if it was a joke or not but having such a comment irritates me. But of course, I couldn’t be as harsh as I would often be against these comments thinking that this person is helping out our church in the construction of a new building.

“Careful. Feminist.” (referring to myself).

“You are in no way a feminist.”

“I am, although not the radical kind but I am.”

“Feminists are lesbian, and you’re not.”

Wow. What an observation! A Feminist = Lesbian equation is so sweeping generalization.

Whether I truly am a feminist or just in the making, I am not sure. But one thing is for certain. I’ve always hated discriminatory jokes, may it be racial, gender, or physical discrimination against a person. I do not have to take on another gender role for me to realize that there are people who look down on others because of their sexuality. All are equal and should be respected for what they are.

Don’t get me wrong. This friend of mine is not totally prejudiced. I have heard comments from him that are to be very much appreciated. I remember a time when he spent a night helping out a bunch of high school kids of missionaries in the country. He hated the idea that these missionaries (and their kids even) had been staying in the country for more than 10 years and yet knows nothing of the Filipino language, much more the culture. He saw a foreigner buying mangoes that morning. She and vendor couldn’t understand each other. Not that the vendor couldn’t understand English, but the foreigner wanted to buy a single piece of mango, something that may be possible in their country that doesn’t apply here.

He could be socially relevant, but he could be so greatly unfair as well.

“I don’t have to be a lesbian to be at some point a feminist,” were the last thoughts I said before I switched the topic back to car driving.

what a day

Today is my brother's 20th birthday. This day too, my grandmother died.

to live longer

The week after I visited my grandmother, my dad went to see her again. To his shock, my lola already wanted to die.

Two weeks after, she changed her mind.

Not only that, she's stronger than the last time I saw her. She's also been arguing with her sons and daughter until they burst into tears...

Well, she's been like that ever since I can remember. But I love her still. And I still want to learn her fruitcake recipe, although my mother really doubts if I have enough patience for such. With all the extreme people I've met, I think I can tolerate that kind of attitude as well.

Whatever they say, I'm just glad my grandmother still wants to live.

my grandmother

My grandmother was rushed to the hospital last week. My aunt said she was complaining of having difficulty of breathing. They were able to take her home by weekend however, she still had to go back by yesterday because of the same thing.

Actually, my aunt had been calling our house telling us to visit my grandmother. I already intended to do sa but I just couldn't delay my thesis that easy. If it weren't for the transport strike today that led to the suspension of classes, I would have not gone at all.

Anyway, my mom, dad and I went inside the room and well, there she was lying on her bed, almost totally dependent of the oxygen tank placed beside her bed. Although she had always been skinny, this was the very first time I saw her that bad. She was so weak, she couldn't even help herself get up to greet us.

She's not sick, that's for sure. My relatives believe her condition is brought about by old age. She is almost 90 years old. But even if she was that old, she still had very good eyesight, very strong bones and very strong words.

I couldn't look at her for a long time. Although I did not grow up with her living in our house, she had been explicit of her dreams for me and I guess I've always held onto those things. She had always recognized my interest for politics and supported me all the way. She wanted me to become a journalist even before I realized I wanted to write at all.

She's also the baker of the family. Her expertise include fruit cake, brownies (not using the commercial mix), fudge and cupcakes. Apparently, no one had the interest of continuing that as a family tradition because we were all too scared of her. However, I really promised her to spend time with her after I finish my thesis and just before I start working, endure her impatience for the love of baking and family tradition.

But with her condition, I doubt if she will even make it till the end of the month. She had stopped eating, even drinking. In fact, she had already told me to get all those magazines and journalistic stuff she and my grandfather kept even before the war.

The last time we saw prior to this one, when she visited us at our church, she held my hand for so long. She wanted to go to my graduation, as she would always do with almost all her grandchildren. She also told me she wanted to see me get married. Although she have her doubts if it would happen soon but she wanted to at least meet the man as soon as I find myself a boyfriend. At the same time, she told me not to let my marriage, if ever I get married, restrain what I wanted to do, what my passion and advocacy call for.

When I came over to visit her, I thought I was ready to see her in whatever condition and how could I ever be so wrong. I felt it a struggle to pretend that everything was fine, whereas my mom sat by her all the way. I guess I'm really not good at these things. I guess I can't really be like my mother when it comes to this.

edco 101 assignment: affirmation scripts

This afternoon, we somehow came into the subject of committing suicide in my EDCO101 class, Introduction to Guidance and Counseling. The professor asked us to think of reasons why anyone would ever think of putting his life to an end and just as anyone would expect, ideas like depression and loneliness came about.

From here, the professor asked us to collect at least 25 affirmation scripts we've received during our lives. These scripts include thoughts of appreciation said or written for us, as well as testimonials from Friendster or whatever write-up that was written about us. We are to compile it and present it in our most creative and relevant to our interests. Although this assignment doesn't seem to make sense, it would actually help us when we feel down and think nobody appreciates us.

Procratinating (again) from my thesis, I decided to check out my almost inactive Friendster account and probably find something, aside from those I can remember like the ones from Christian, JM and May.

Anyway, I was going through my testimonials and then I realized how much effort my blockmates (my UST blockmates that is, since I never really got in any block in UP) would write about me and try to catch up with me when I transfered school.

Aji wrote about how I could easily get worried. May wrote about how accident prone I could be as she was able to witness much of the accidents I had been in (getting bumped by a car, asthma attacks just because someone played with pepper spray inside an airconditioned room, the bruises I easily get and my baking burns). Issai wrote about my "last row syndrome" where I was first termed to experience ADHD attacks because of simple boredom. Ainj wrote about how appreciate he felt when I laughed at his jokes. Even those who I was not really that close showed some signs of concern and miss to the point I never felt so appreciated in my life. (*tear drop. hahaha)

I guess my professor is right. With people like them to remind me of the beauty of life, how could I ever think of suicide!

what if it's too late

A friend greeted me through Yahoo! Messenger (YM) tonight.

She asked me how I was and how my vacation had started. I told her how happy I am to be away from the people that had brought nothing but disappointment these past few days. It's not that that response was anything sarcastic or full of bitterness. I just felt the need to be away from all my troubles and think about things that would probably make me happy, like the street children’s Christmas party to happen this Saturday.

As she expressed how she no longer cares what they think about her, I told her the same thing. I told her how an old friend, part also of the group that was involved in that Wednesday morning incident, came to me to apologize for everything that has happened. Despite this, I told her that damage has been done and I can’t force myself to act as if nothing has happened. However, I assured her that I will try my best to be as casual and as friendly as I had been with them given that I get to stay away from them this vacation.

She commented on how detached and cold I could be. The one that has led the Wednesday morning incident even noticed how nowadays I would no longer greet him as fondly as I would and tell him stories of life. It seems that even he has noticed the changes happened between us and has made some sort of expression of sadness as I started to disregard even him.

I told her I felt touched to hear that, to know that even the manifestations of my nothingness and idleness had actually been appreciated by him especially when all I see based on how they had always treated me is a mere body necessary for collective action, nothing but a mechanism for what seemed to be called an ideology.

But it’s too late for that now.

If there was one thing this Wednesday morning incident has taught me, I learned to be as heartless as my mind would want to be. The damage control had been too late. The attempt not to inhibit pain had not succeeded.

"Soul mates"

Monday. I was wearing a red shirt, brown khaki pants and blue slippers for school. I arrived a few minutes after one in the afternoon to meet with Weng to talk about our thesis. After two hours of slight planning, we stopped by the booth where the council was staying to raise funds for the outreach we were doing with the two Communication Research organizations.

Karol was alone in the booth. We were making our greetings when someone announced that the Neo-Angono Artists’ mural had arrived in the college. This mural had been tagged as subversive because of its detailed and direct criticism of the Arroyo administration.

Jam, Weng, Karol and I decided to check out this mural at the Film Lobby. As Karol stood out of the booth, Jam started to laugh. Karol was wearing a red shirt, brown khaki pants and blue slippers. Soul mates, they kept telling us.

Wednesday. Since this is also the last day of classes for the year, Karol gave out his gift to the council members, a bar of Toblerone chocolate.

Let me stress. Karol gave everyone a bar of chocolate. My friends seem to miss that part out and instead made a romantic joke out of our partnership in the council. As they say, it was a perfect love-hate, professional-turned-romantic relationship. No way.

After the lantern parade, we stayed somewhere at the Sunken Garden to eat dinner. When Masol and I decided to go home, Jam, Weng and Gladdys were imagining that we would bump into Karol on our way and he’d invite us to ride in his car given that we were using the same route going home.

As we were walking, a man greeted us from afar. It was Karol.

people. intolerance. and a few more stories you might be interested

Monday. CMC Carolfest. (sorry, no pictures available). A post on the people who made my day (or is that sarcastic in a sense?).

Ever since that Wednesday morning, I have become intolerant of their insensitivity and closed-mindedness. I guess one thing I've learned from them is to actually say no to everything that involves them, even if the activity or the favor that is, corresponds to a noble cause. I guess I just realized I have nothing against the ideology. It's the people that pisses me out.

Since last night, they have been asking me, or should I say pressuring me to not only attend that sort of charity concert, but attend all those late meetings (I must say, they never start meetings on time), work in the event, sell the tickets (which by the way isn't my talent at all. I even had to ask Weng to sell my cake raffle worth a peso each because I simply couldn't sell it) as well. I must say, I believe in the cause, really, but they simply tried my patience to the point that I could no longer tolerate just being with them. Although I did admit that I have no intentions of coming because of some family thing, they didn't take my no for an answer as expected. They kept saying, why not try asking permission again and probably my parents would give in eventually. crap. Am I only a mechanism here? Is there no room for respect? And since they've been treating me as nothing else but a mere physical body that is supposed to be added as a number to any form of movement, I'm really starting to sacrifice the ideology here.

And since I am feeling sort of congested in my college with them around, I decided to leave and instead man one of my organization's booth at the Palma Hall for the afternoon. And crap, when I arrived, no one was there except for a table with a recycled sign-up sheet taped on one side. wow, is this your idea of attracting applicants? I was thankful enough to see Karla and Tat arrived a few minutes after and accompanied me at the booth. And for almost three hours of getting bored by just sitting there, we were able to encourage two people to sign up - for the sake of friendship.

Anyway, that's enough ranting for the meantime. The rest of the day was interesting anyway.

A few minutes before four in the afternoon, I made my way back to my college for the Carolfest. Apparently, Karol had a class on the evening and so I had to take over. It wasn't all that bad except that because one organization didn't return the microphones properly last Friday, the next people to use it, the council that is, were not allowed to use it. In short, no microphone. And so everybody had to shout and crap, with almost a hundred people as audience. We haven't practiced our vocal chords for that purpose. Besides that, everything else went fine.

Only three organizations participated the Carolfest this year, MCO, CAST and Cineastes'. And honestly, they were all very talented. Not only were they good chorale singers, they all had the personality and the college spirit that gave last year's representative, CAST, a chance to make it to the second place.

MCO won this year, and I must say it, they were really good!

And since I have been assigned to take over the event, it has been accustomed of me to greet every participant. But since this is a group effort, I came to the leaders of the performances to congratulate them for having a well done performance.

I came up to one of the group leaders and told him how impressed I was with his team. He hugged me, said his thank you for my compliments on his group and started telling me how proud he was of his new members. Two of his singers were freshmen and if his other singers hadn't been active members of the organization this year, he wouldn't have thought of joining the Carolfest. Again, I told him they were really good and once more he said his thank you. I left to compliment the other groups.

After the Carolfest, Jam, Tin and I walked our way to the main library to buy credits for our cellphone. We were to meet Weng at the mall and we just couldn't leave without knowing where exactly she is. As the three of us were walking, I told Jam that I admired this group leader because of his impressive and exceptional leadership qualities. She must have been shocked to find out.

We met Weng, Tat and Karla at Starbucks. It has been a while since I had coffee there. A few minutes more, Gladdys accompanied us. This meeting became another ranting session as well as an avenue for sharing our thoughts and comments on life.

And did I forget, it is Weng's birthday today. She, along with four orgmates, presented an ad campaign for Ford. Hopefully, her birthday would be the group's charm to win for having the best ad campaign. Did I tell you how much effort she'd put in this, to the point that we had to delay data gathering for our thesis so that they could make it to the deadline.

She must have been tired. We were all tired for the day. And worse, our thesis is still on the rocks. We can't seem to make any sense out of our data and we won't seem to getting anywhere at all.

In denial. I think that's how it's called. In denial.

This is the last procrastination Weng and I will be doing for thesis. I need to force myself right now or at least someone has to remind me that I need to finish this thesis. Anyone interested for the job? Please apply. haha. and I mean, please...

car accident

Mga alas-otso na ng gabi. Katext ko ang aking nanay at inaayos kung saan nila ako dadaanan pauwi. Gamit ang Starex, inihatid muna nila ang mga batang nanggaling sa bahay. Nanatili lamang ako sa may labasan ng aming subdibisyon.

Malapit na raw sila, text ng nanay ko. Siya namang paglingon ko sa Ortigas Ave, nakita ako ang aming Starex halos paliko na papasok sa ng subdibisyon.

Maluwag ang kalsada at halos wala nang mga sasakyan. Mula sa isang maikling pagtigil, idiniretso na ng Starex upang tumawid nang may biglang rumagasang Liteace at sumalpok sa harapan ng Starex. Sinubukan pa ng Starex na umurong palikod upang iwasan ang banggaang nangyari ngunit tinamaan pa rin ito.

Malakas ang tunog ng bangga. Basag ang headlights ng Liteace.

Nang makita ko ang pangyayari, agaran akong tumakbo papalapit sa sasakyan namin. Mga ilang segundo kong naramdaman ang panlalamig at kaba. Bumaba ang tatay ko mula sa Starex. Sinalubong siya ng apat na naglalakihang lalaki mula sa Liteace, ang isa namumula ang mata na parang lasing. Lahat ay mukhang galit sa pangyayari. Bumuhos ang ulan.

Pumasok sa isip ko ang ilan pang ganitong mga pangyayari, kung minsan pa nga'y umaabot sa sakitan. Naalala ko rin ang minsan kong nakitang pagtangkaan ang buhay ng tatay ko ng isang lasing na pulis.

Mabilis na ang takbo ng isip ko. Habang nag-aaway pa sila, inilabas ko ang aking cellphone at kumuha ng litrato mula sa kantong kinatatayuan ko. Tinandaan ko rin ang plate no. ng Liteace. Nakahanda ako sa kahit ano mang mangyayari.

"Si pastor ba iyon?", wika ng isa sa dalawang batang nasa tabi ko.

"Oo, tatay ko iyon." Tumingin sa akin si Jordan, isa sa dalawang bata at nakatira sa likod ng simbahan. Maya-maya ay tumakbo na pabalik sa simbahan ang dalawang bata. Ilang sandali dumating na sina Kuya Jonell.

Mukhang nagkaayos na ng mga may ari ng dalawang sasakyan at mukhang nagpipirmahan ng mga impormasyon ukol sa sarili.

Itinabi na ng tatay ko ang Starex papasok ng subdibisyon at saka nakipag-usap muli sa mga may ari ng Liteace. Lumabas na mula sa sasakyan ang aking nanay at tiningnan ang sira ng Starex. Bumper ang nawasak.

"Inako ni papa."

"Ha? Bakit?"

"Si papa naman ang may mali e. Siya ang tumatawid."

"Hindi ako driver pero mula sa nakita ko, sila ang mali. Ang bilis-bilis nila tapos ang luwag ng kalye."

"Mabilis din naman si papa a."

Bumalik ang tatay ko sa sasakyan. Gusto daw nilang sumama hanggang sa bahay para makasiguradong ipapaayos ng tatay ko ang Liteace. Dinala namin sila sa simbahan. Sandaling binuksan ng pinto ng Starex, tinitiggan kami ng nanay ko ng dalawa sa apat na mga lalaki.

Umalis na ang Liteace. Magkikita daw sila ng tatay ko alas-siyete ng umaga kinabukasan.

Lumapit si Kuya Jonell, "Lasing yung mga lalaki e."

Pagpasok ng tatay ko sa sasakyan para umuwi na, hindi ko napigilang itanong bakit niya inako.

"Militar silang lahat."

Naintindihan ko na. Kahit alam kong nasa tama ang tatay ko, hindi ko maiwasang mainis. Nasaan ang sense of justice sa bansang ito?

Huli kong balita, dinala na ng tatay ko ang Liteace upang ipaayos. Sinimulan nang gawin ang mga sira mula sa pagkakabangga. Humirit ang mga militar na may pupuntahan daw silang napakaimportanteng pagtitipon kaya kung maari ay ipaayos na rin ang ilan pang bagay sa Liteace. Hindi pa rin umangal ang tatay ko.

Pinipilit kong huwag ayawan ng tuluyan ang mga militar sa personal na dahilan pero hindi ko talaga magawa. Napakapulpol ng sistema, napakapulpol ng mga taong ito. Nakakainis.

meeting an old friend

I met with an old friend this evening at Galleria. Although we have been in constant contact these past few days, this was the first time we two meet after two years.

-------

A few days ago, I kind of reminisce my days while I was still in UST. Having to mention only six people, I was able to miss out a few more people who made my stay worthwhile.

During the first semester of that year, I was forced to take up volleyball for my PE class. Between swimming and volleyball then, I knew I had better chances of passing.

Our professor asked us to group ourselves with seven members each. These groups will serve as our teams when we need to do a little competition in class to test our skills in volleyball. The competition never took place.

I remember we were seven seated in one of the bleachers beside the court. Given the convenience of the situation, we easily agreed to form ourselves a group.

Cathy was the only person I knew in that PE class. I met her while we were in line waiting for the head of the Office of Student Affairs to sign our scholarship forms. A Communication Arts major, she is one of the brightest people I knew.

She was able to befriend one of our groupmates, a Biochemistry major, such that they would usually arrive earlier in class than anyone else. His name derived from the great philosopher, Aries is mostly a silent type of person and another of those brightest people I know.

He had a friend from highschool, an Information Technology major and one of our groupmates still, Dinno. Maybe not as silent as Aries but quite unnoticeable still, Dinno had plans of shifting to Commerce such that IT seems to drag him.

Given that these two are guys, they didn't seem to have problems passing the practical exams, except for that balancing the ball on the wrist. On the otherhand, Cathy and I are no sports fan, which only meant that we had to struggle through every exam in class, from balancing to serving and even tossing.

I remember Aries handing me a ball at a time in preparation to serve. I would try talking to it, hoping that the ball would listen to my plea and make itself cross the net. Dinno would try teasing so as to trigger more force when hitting the ball. The same scenario applies to Cathy.

-------

Cathy is now doing some advertising work for SM Mall. Aries took the board exam for Chemistry this September and passed on his first take. Dinno was not able to shift out of IT, and working in a sort of advertising company the name I can't remember, doing webdesign and other computer-based work.

And here I am, still a student procrastinating the work things that is needed to be done with our thesis. It must be this escapist mode that I agreed meeting with Dinno this evening.

As I discover it, categorically speaking, he is the second guy I know who is not enrolled or doing any work that is media or politics related that can talk about politics with keen interest. To my surprise, he was as much interested as I am. I guess I must have taken him into one of those sorts of stereotype.

ang bago kong tahanan

Ngayong semestre, tatlo sa anim kong klase ang manggagaling sa CEd. Unang beses itong mangyayari na mas marami ang mga klase ko sa ibang kolehiyo kaysa sa pinaggalingan ko.

Sa unang araw ng klase, tatlo sa apat kong propesor ang hindi dumating sa klase. Ibig sabihin nito, mas maraming oras ang naubos ko sa pagtambay sa kung saan-saang sulok ng CEd. At dahil hindi ko nga naman kolehiyo ito, medyo masagwa sa pakiramdam ang tumatambay kung saan lang, lalo na kapag walang kasama.

Iyan ang akala ko.

Sa pagtambay ko, marami akong nakasalubong na dati kong mga kaklase. Noong una'y iniisip kong hindi nila ako papansinin o kaya nama'y hindi ako nakikilala dahil hindi naman talaga ako nagpapapansin kapag nasa ibang kolehiyo ako, nagkamali ako. Sa dami ng nakasalubong ko, hindi ko naramdaman na nasa ibang lugar ako.

Paakyat ako sa ikatlong palapag nang tawagin ako ni Rey, ang partner ko sa report sa EDL121 (Language Test Development). Nagtaka siya nang makita ako sa CEd sa pagaakalang dapat nagtapos na ako sa pag-aaral.

Nakasalubong ko rin ang partner ko sa kabadingan na si Mhira. Muntik na niyang kunin ang isa kong subject kaya lamang may hinahabol siyang major na kapareho ng oras.

May ilan pa akong nakasalubong na kaklase ko dati sa EDSP 122 (Montessori and Other Approaches to Early Childhood Education). Kaklase ko rin si Ate Mai na dati kong kagrupo sa EDSP 122 (Creativity).

Ang kinakatakot ko talaga kapag nalayo ka sa iyong kolehiyo, parang alam mo sa pakiramdam na hindi ka dapat naroon. Pero, sa mga oras na nagpapalipas-oras ako, mukha nga yatang nakahanap ako ng ikalawang tahanan sa UP.

ilang alaala ng nakaraan

Apat na taon na rin ang nakakalipas nang ako’y lumipat ng eskwelahan. Naaalala ko pa noon kung gaano ko hindi ginusto ang aking ginawa. Kung hindi lang ako pinilit ng aking ama, masaya na akong makakapagtapos sa UST at maaaring may honors pa dahil sa aking scholarship.

Kung aalalahanin ko kung bakit nga baa yaw kong umalis ng UST, una kong naiisip sina Gia, Aji, Mai, Issai, Rikki at Christian, anim ba taong nagpasaya ng aking sandaling pamamalagi.

Una kong narinig ang pangalan ni Gia mula sa isang kaibigang nakasama ko sa isang convention noong ako’y nasa hayskul pa. May kabarkada daw si Paula na pumasok sa Journalism sa UST. Sa tatlong section ng first year, sinong magaakalang magiging kaklase ko pala ang Gia na tinutukoy ni Paula. Maganda, tahimik, at magaling na mag-aaral, ito palang si Gia ay may pagkabaliw din kapag ilan lang kayong magkakasama. Magkatapat lang kami ng subdivision na tinitirahan kaya sa loob ng isang taon, araw-araw kaming magkasabay pumasok, umuwi at gumala. Nasaksihan din niya ang mga kaguluhan ng buhay ko sa mga oras na iyon, at siya ang kasama ko nang ako’y mabundol ng isang pulang van sa may Ortigas Ave.

Malapit-lapit din ang tirahan ni Aji mula sa amin ni Gia kaya rin madalas namin siyang nakakasabay pauwi. Mahilig kumanta at magaling din sa pag-aaral, kay Aji ko lang narinig na ang kasaysayan, kapag hindi mo natatandaan, alalahanin na parang chismis sa showbiz. Ayaw mong pakinggan, ngunit dahil chismis sya, hindi mo mapipigilang maalala. Ilang beses na rin kaming na-link ni Aji. Minsan pa’y nagalit siya umano kay Rikki sa selos dahil nagiging malapit kaming magkaibigan ni Rikki at di umano’y niregaluhan daw ako ni Rikki ng stuff toy. Nakakatawa pa ring isipin kung saan nanggagaling ang ganitong mga usapin sa loob ng klase.

Si Mai naman ang aking makwentong kaibigan. Maraming nasasabi sa kung anu-anong bagay, si Mai ay isa sa iilang taong kilala ko na matindi kung sumuporta sa kaibigan. Nakakahiya lang isipin na hindi ko na naalala kung paano ba talaga kami naging malapit na magkaibigan ni Mai. Siguro dahil Tan ang apelyido na at magkasunod kami sa upuan.

Noong una kong nakilala si Gia, magkasama n asila ni Isasi. Sa alala ko, magkapareho sila ng oras ni Gia ng PE kaya sila nagkasabay. Velez ang kanyang apelyido, isang upuan ang agwat mulas a akin. Ngunit dahil madalas na wala ang taong nasa gitna namin, maraming beses na rin kaming nagkakatabi. SIya ang unang taong nakasaksi ng aking mga attention deficiency tendencies at tinawag niya itong last row syndrome, dahil tuwing nakaupo lang kami ako inaatake ng aking tendencies.

Mabait, gwapo, baliw ngunit tunay na kaibigan, si Rikki ang kaisa-isang kaklase ko sa PE at ka-block ko pa. Dahil na rin dito, nakikita kaming magkasama tuwing Huwebes na siyang naging usap-usapan sa klase. Matapos ng ilang taon, napagalamanan naming dalawa na malayo pala kaming magpinsan, siya sa ina, ako sa ama.

Isa lang ang masasabi ko kay Christian, tapat na kaibigan. Siya ang kauna-unahang taong nakilala ko sa UST. Nakatabi ko siya noong nag-entrance exam at nakasabay ko rin sa confirmation at enrollment. Isang Biology major na may planong mag-doktor, si Chris ay isang performer na may kahinaan sa tagalog kaya nama’y naging unang unofficial student ko sa Filipino. Madalas kong nakakasama sa pananghalian, si Chris ang naging takbuhan ko sa lahat ng naging problema ko ng mga oras na iyon, mula sa mga chismis, pamilya, simbahan, pagkakaibigan at kahit pa buhay pag-ibig. Ilang beses na rin kaming nagpag-isipan dahil sa madalas ko siyang katext kapag walang kaming propesor.

Naaalala ko noong kinailangan namin nila Gia mag-report para sa klase naming sa Panitikang Pilipino. Hindi kami magaling umarte, ayaw rin naman naming magsalita na lang basta. Nagdala kami ng mga laruan (action figures, stuff toys, little soldiers) at ginamit naming puppet upang ikwento ang akda.

Naalala ko ang mga pagkakataong nakaupo kami ni Gia sa Colayco Park upang mag-dub kunwari sa mga taong nasa paligid namin, tulad na lamang ng nasa commercial ng Piatos. Ipinangako namin sa aming mga sarili na bago mag-graduation, pupunta kami sa isang spa.

Dalawa lang ang buhay ko sa UST, pag-aaral at kaibigan. Nakatutok ako sa pag-angat ng sarili, siguro dahil iyon ang dinidikta ng paligid ko, siguro dahil masyadong malakas ang kumpetisyon.

Gayonpaman, masaya naman talaga ako noong ako'y nasa UST at hindi ko na pinangarap pang umalis. Taon din ang binilang ko upang tuluyan ko nang matanggap na nasa ibang lugar na ako at iba na ang buhay naming magkakaibigan.

Napakaibang tao ko talaga noon. Napaka-materyaloso, elitista at hilig makibagay.

Kung hindi naman ako lumipat, hindi ko makikita ang buhay ng tao sa ibang perspektibo, sa isang pananaw na ang buhay ay para sa serbisyo sa kapwa. Paano ka magsisilbi sa ibang tao kung uunahin mo ang iyong sarili. Naging masakit nga sa akin ng umalis ako, pero kung titingnan ko din kung paano ako binago ng UP na gamitin hindi sa pangsariling kapakanan ang mga natutunan, hindi ko rin naman ito ipagpapalit.

ode to sir velasco

The professor in my film102 class suddenly decided to change the film to be viewed in class today. Instead of Macarthur, he chose the local film Sabel. He gave quite a few justifications for such a change and I did not quite bother to listen. However, the next few lines somehow struck me.

"My friend would have liked it, Professor Jovenal Velasco."

Sir Velasco was my professor in my film104 class, a course on film genres. He was a big man, always seemingly smiling, a leg quite weak that he walks with a cane. He said he was a member of Philippine Educational Theater Association (PETA), before he had a stroke. He used to teach acting, he proudly said in our class, and I actually felt quite frustrated as I see how restricted his movements were when we would see hints of his passion for teaching film.

I didn't like him at first. He was often demanding and I hated how he would simultaneously call students for recitation. I hated the tension as I often intentionally neglect reading his required readings because of my other academic load. As it turns out, most of his questions requires only practical answers.

I also remember how I commented how much I enjoy watching films except horror during the first meeting. The same day, I was assigned in a group that was tasked to report on horror and science fiction. Since the group were to be divided into two, I demanded that my partner and I be assigned for the science fiction instead. It was enough compromise for him and for my other group mates.

Unlike my film12 class, bulk of the class discussion focused on the ideologies of each genre, how theses ideologies change over time. Though conventions in terms of cinematography and themes exist, he greatly emphasize the importance of these ideologies in the making of the films.

I also often get bored in class since the reporting started.

However, as I was doing my part in the report, as I was watching all the films, I inherently started to appreciate film genres, most especially science fiction. I endured watching the gory movie Alien, the amusing Close Encounter of the Third Kind, even to that point that I bothered watching the 1901 film Les Voyage Dans La Lune though it was not required. Indeed, Sir Velasco had achieved what may be his greatest goal for me, to learn to appreciate science fiction movies, more so genre films.

I remember him commending my ability to argue and justify the words used and contents of our report. It must be the change in classroom, he often follows, promising never to hold classes in the basement area the next time he teaches another subject.

For my final paper, I was tasked to do a research on how the television series Encantadia depicts social criticism. For this paper, I was privileged enough to be able to interview the head writer, Suzette Doctolero, who not only gave me inside stories on the creation of the series but also toured me in the editing rooms and studios as her new series Lupin was to be on its first week.

I ended the semester proud of myself for taking up the class and having him as a professor. It was one of the best classes I ever had.

As it turns out, he will never be having a class in the basement area.

About a month ago, I received a text message from one of the film representatives informing me of the UPFI professor who died on a Saturday morning. Sir Velasco never woke up on the morning of September 1, 2007.

accident prone kuya

naiwan akong kasama si kuya jonell ngayon hapon. kinailangan kasing sunduin ng tatay ko ang bunso kong kapatid. nagkataon din may mga kailangan ayusin sa pajero, kaya iniwan na lamang ni tatay kay kuya ang gawain iyon.

nanatili akong nasa loob ng bahay at nag-ayos ng kakainin at sinimulan na ni kuya ang pagpapalit ng gulong ng van.

maya-maya, nakarinig ako ng malakas na ugong, na parang bumaksak ang van mula sa pagkakaangat nito. nang sumilip ako, tama nga ang pakiwari kong bumagsak ang kotse sa pagkakaangat nito gawa ng pagkadaplis ng jack. sa kasamaang palad, naipit ang mga daliri ng kanyang dalawang kamay.

"yung jack! ayusin mo yung jack!"

ahehe. sori ha. kahit may konti naman akong alam sa mga jack, di pa rin talaga ako marunong, bilang taon na rin ang nabibilang nung huli aong pahawakin ng ganyan. isa pa, yung diamond form na klase ng jack yung gamit nila. lalong hindi ko kilala yan.

"magtawag ka na. mapuputol na ata mga daliri ko e. "

syempre, takot ko na lang na may mangyari na namang kung ano kay kuya jonell. tumakbo ako sa may kanto, nangharang ng mga tricycle drivers. mabilis na tumakbo ang dalawang drivers papunta sa bahay namin at inangat ang pajero upang matanggal ni kuya ang kanyang mga daliri.

grabe na lang mag bonding moments namin ni kuya, nahihiwa ng kutsilyo, kukulangin ng dugo, bigla na lang nawawalabn ng malay, nauuntog. wala na lang akong masasabi. manhid na ata ako sa mga ganitong sitwasyon kaya kalmado na lang ako forever.

pero in fairness, buti na lang may mga tricycle drivers na mabilis na tumulong. hindi ko rin alam ang gagawin kung wala akong inabutan sa kanta nyan. alangan namang ako magbuhat ng pajero? gudlak na lang...

remembering a friend

Last week, I saw myself in a dream bumping onto an old friend of mine. In this dream, he looked very happy. When I woke up, I realized it was a day after his birthday. I texted him, he never answered back. It must have been one of the many numbers I had saved of him, or he never got it.

But seriously, it's been a long time since I talked to this friend of mine. We went to the same high school and being a year older than I am, we forcibly became partners in a waltz performance during the prom. We've already experience much stepping on each other's feet, teasing, and reprimands but from that day on still, we became good friends.

We attended the same university for a year. He finished his degree in University of Sto. Tomas (UST), while I transfered to UP after a year.

He never missed my birthday and to that, I felt really bad for not making it in time for his.

I remember those times when I needed books but I always fail to get one. He would either lend me his or ask one of his blockmates to lend me theirs. He gave me advice on professors and how I could earn the highest grades possible.

There were also times when I feel down and he'd suddenly text the most appropriate messages even when he doesn't know what exactly is going on.

He's actually the perfect example of a friend I often underestimate and ignore because of his physical inexistence in my environment when in essence ha has always been there, quiet and unnoticeable.

That has always been my mistake, to give too much attention to people existing physically in the world I move around at the moment in such a way that when they leave this sort of space, I end up finding myself at lost. Probably this is why I have some kind of defense mechanism when people attempt to invade my personal bubble (sana tama ang gamit ko di ba? comm theories!), even when I would consciously allow them to.

I never learn still. Good things there are people like him, friends who never leave even when you tend to forget them. I guess this is one of God's myseteries in our lives.