The Jammer Pages

Perfect Moment, Beautiful Bride

2008-06-11T16:27:00.008+08:00

Download the song here.

1
A vision of white
It’s you walking down the aisle
As a child I lay in bed
Dreamed of this perfect moment
My beautiful bride
That wonderful smile

2
As you draw closer
I feel my heart beat faster
Such a mesmerizing view
It’s overwhelming, it’s true
That beautiful smile
My wonderful bride

Chorus 1:

Now that you are here
There is nothing that I fear
With the love that you bring
‘ Can do anything
My soul you make it sing
Now that I am here
There is nothing you should fear
With the love that I bring
As long as I live
My all to you I’ll give

Bridge:

It has been granted
Things have fallen into place
And the stars have realigned
Now I’m staring at your face
My beautiful bride
That wonderful smile

Chorus 2

Now that you are here
There is nothing that I fear
With the love that you bring
‘ Can do anything
My soul you make it sing
Now that we are here
There is nothing we should fear
With the love that we have
A gift from above
We can do anything

Now that we are here

Download the song here.

Time And Sunsets

2008-06-04T01:51:00.002+08:00

"Kal kare so aaj kar, aaj kare so ab."

"What you want to do tomorrow, do it today and what you want to do today, do it now."

--Kabir

A Trip To Kuala Lumpur (Part I)

2008-05-03T15:54:00.015+08:00

From Singapore, By Bus

The Golden Mile Complex in Beach Road, Kallang is the place to buy bus tickets for the 5-6 hour trip to Malaysia. The ground floor of the high-rise commercial and residential building houses several tourists and ticketing agencies. If you take the time to go from one ticketing agency to another, you’d find out that the prices are more or less the same.

As of April 2008, bus and coach tickets range from 30-40 SGD, with the $40 affording the luxuries of a larger leg room, a seat that can be adjusted almost to 180° and a TV monitor that allows you to either play games or watch movies. Of course we chose the most luxurious one, taking the trip was part of Angie’s celebration in passing the Architecture board exam after all. There were six rows of seats excluding the driver’s: three passengers per row, two on the driver’s side and one on the left. My TV monitor wasn’t working, which wasn’t unfortunate because I preferred to doze the night off anyway.

As luck would have it –again, because this was neither the first time nor the second– we got the furthest seats from the driver. With the high barrier in front that houses the monitor, you’d almost feel like you were in a private room. Except for one thing, that is. Behind the flowery curtain that dangles innocently from the ceiling lies the driver’s companion’s private world. This time around, I was expecting to hear intermittent snores coming from behind for the duration of the trip but I was to be happily disappointed.

About 30 minutes after departure, the seats automatically rise to their upright position – undoubtedly the driver’s doing – signaling our arrival at the Woodlands Checkpoint of the Singapore Immigration. The driver makes a cryptic announcement but the word passport unmistakably stands out and when the bus comes to a full stop, everyone gets off the vehicle with their most important piece of document, at least for the time being.

The exit at the Singapore Immigration is usually uneventful and takes only a few minutes depending on the number of people heading off to Malaysia. At the time of our exit, at about 1 a.m., there were only about forty travelers and so were back in the comfort of our seats in less than 10 minutes.

The bus crosses the Johor-Singapore Causeway, over a kilometer long, where the Malaysian checkpoint lies just on the other side. Again, with the driver’s obscure message as cue, the passengers leave the bus, this time with all their belongings in tow in case entry to Malaysia becomes an issue. Needless to say, the bus will not wait indefinitely for all passengers to come back.

Pudaraya To Petronas Twin Towers, By Train

The bus made two stops in the course of our trip. I awoke on both occasions but I was fast asleep even before the vehicle started moving again.

We arrived in Pudaraya, Kuala Lumpur at about 5:30 a.m., almost 5 hours after the bus left Beach Road. People were everywhere: along the pavements, in 24-hour food stalls, by the stairs leading to the lobby of the once tallest building in Malaysia, the Menara Maybank, and even in the nearest McDonald’s where a number of people were taking a nap. Everyone appeared to be waiting for someone or something – for a bus to come or for the sun to come out.

As for us, we spent a few minutes in McDonald’s to have breakfast and to take the chance to chat for a while. Afterwards, we climbed the stairs to the Menara Maybank and then lay down on the marble benches near the ATMs to rest. When the guard came and asked us to leave, we decided to take a stroll on the nearby surroundings.

Except for the obvious Islamic architecture of a few buildings, the place almost looks like Manila: dingy, perennially wet sidewalks; side streets with the unmistakable smell of urine; ubiquitous street food vendors offering local treats. Several hotels, hostels, inns, pension houses and all those places that mean you can stop there for the night are found all around. We found out much later in the day that Petaling Street, the Chinatown of Kuala Lumpur, was also just about a hundred meters away from the terminal.

Getting to the Twin Towers from Pudaraya is simple enough via train. Of course, in terms of speed, nothing beats taking a cab. Unfortunately, just like in some other Asian countries, foreigners are easily taken advantage of -- the taxi drivers insist on a fixed price and refuse to use their meter. This makes you appreciate Singapore, where taxi drivers almost always charge by the meter. (The 8-seater Maxi Cab would sometimes insist on a fixed charge especially during peak hours in tourist spots). In fairness, albeit in a misconstrued notion thereof, the Malaysian cab drivers do the same thing to locals.

The Plaza Rakyat train station in Pudaraya is just behind the bus terminal and a 3-minute easily walk takes you there. In our case, the steady stream of students in uniform striding along the walkway served as a trail to follow.

Getting to the KLCC station, where the Petronas Towers are located, first entails getting to the green line of the Integrated Transit Network of KL. This is accomplished by getting off at Masjid Jamek, a mere one station away from Plaza Rakyat (Pudaraya) and crossing the street to take another 3-minute walk to the ticket counter of the green line.

You can turn this minor inconvenience to your advantage, like we did, by taking pictures of the Masjid Jamek, one of the oldest mosques in Kuala Lumpur that was built on the first Malay burial ground in the city. KLCC is now just 3 stations away and the twin towers is a short walk from there.

Skybridge, Petronas Twin Towers

During our first visit, we had to ask one of the guards for quick directions on how and where to queue for access to the skybridge. On our second time around, we knew exactly where to go. The ticketing counter is located at the concourse level of the Petronas Towers. It’s hard to miss especially during the weekends because people start queuing up as early as 7 a.m. Twice we thought we were early but then there were always people ahead of us by the time we got to the booth.

At about 8 a.m., a staff went around to ensure that the queue was how they wanted it to be, asking only one person per group to stay while the rest waited somewhere else. We were informed that each individual can get up to five (5) tickets, free to choose the time of visit from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. at 15-minute intervals, as long as the slot is not yet filled up. The tickets are free but only the first 1,300 people can be accommodated for the day.

At 8:30 a.m. when the ticket counter opened, as many as two hundred fifty were already lined up. Also by this time, another staff member goes around asking each person what country they’re from and how many tickets they need; he writes these two bits of information on a coupon, which he gives to each group representative for later use.

Once at the counter, the person issuing the ticket asks for the coupon and further inquires what viewing time is preferred. On both visits, I’ve only asked for the earliest available slot. We were lucky enough to be included in the 9 a.m. slot the first time and 9:30 a.m. during the second. Viewers are reminded that they need to be in the ticketing counter 15 minutes before their chosen timeslot.

While waiting, you can stay in the exit room and engage in some fun-filled activities such as solving mind-boggling puzzles, watching a short movie on how the towers were built, learning from a video how the building is made lightning-safe, and taking a look at the surrounding view of the Petronas Towers through a telescope. It took me some time to solve one particular puzzle. I was in the middle of working on the next one when the infallible signal was given that it was time to see what we’ve came there for.

At precisely 15 minutes before each viewing slot, an announcement is made through the public address system that the next set of viewers can now enter. Upon entry, we were handed 3D glasses and escorted to a small viewing room to watch a 5-minute primer about the Petronas towers and the company behind the magnificent structures (PETRONAS: Petrolian Nasional Berhad).

After viewing the short video clip, we were guided to a counter where all our baggage and personal items were scanned by the security. Food, drinks and other items were asked to be left behind and stored in the safety of their lockers. I had to leave my Swiss Army knife and was given a tag that I used to claim it back afterwards.

Child and adult, men and women, black, white and brown, we were taken to the 41st level, where the skybridge is accessible, via a high speed double-decker elevator that soared at about one story per second. The guide proceeded to give a 1-minute spiel about the twin towers, mentioning that Tower 1 was built by the South Korean multinational Samsung Engineering & Construction and Tower 2 by Hazama Corporation of Japan and that the skybridge was actually a 2-story bridge but the upper story is not made accessible to the general public. As we listened to some other quick facts about the twin towers, the visitors from the previous slot make their way out.

Finally, we were given about 10 minutes to take pictures and enjoy the spectacular view 170 meters above the ground, from the skybridge of the tallest twin towers in the world!

Jun Lozada: My Reflections On My 2nd Month Of Calvary

2008-04-29T00:39:00.006+08:00

My Reflections On My 2nd Month Of Calvary
Paying The Price Of Truth
By Jun Lozada

Life in the Hot Seat
I left Manila for Hong Kong upon the instruction of the office of the Executive Secretary with the person of Deputy Executive Secretary Gaite arranging the ante‐dating of my documents with DENR Sec. Lito Atienza to legitimize my travel to avoid my appearance at the Senate last Jan. 29, 2008. It is now exactly two months from that fateful January morning to today March 29, 2008, two calendar months time but almost equivalent to an entire lifetime for me and my family, for our former tranquil family life is now like a mirage in the desert, it may appear to be there but only to disappear when you come closer to it.

Why did they want to kill me?
The GMA administration must have really feared so much what I know of the corruption under her administration that when I came back to Manila last Feb. 05, 2008, I was taken forcibly by unidentified men led by a man which I would know later as Gen. Atutubo, the Asst. Gen. Mngr. Of the NAIA for Security, the same man who made a slashing gesture on his neck when turn around to face the CCTV camera at the NAIA, I was brought by these mystery men to Cavite and Laguna with intention to kill me and silenced me for good. How I survived was a story of grit and divine grace, how my wife and my sister was able to contact & be put “on the air” by the radio stations after they were alerted by our brother who was trying to pursue me from the NAIA, how the religious reacted when I was lost and how the Senate President demanded from the PNP to produce me was something that nobody can put together, but in the end it was Media that actually saved my life as I have heard it myself “Ibalik na natin to at masyado na raw mainit ang media”, Thank you Media, especially the AM radio and TV for looking for me that fateful afternoon of February 05 of 2008.

The lies begin
I was forced to write in my own handwriting an official request for security addressed to the Chief PNP Gen. Sonny Razon by the unidentified men upon instruction given over the phone by their superior, who was the same person who angrily told me to stop texting my location and turn off my phone, who introduced himself to me as George. I remembered Sec. Atienza calling up the man and asked that the phone be handed to me, to tell me that everything is ok and that I am free to go home, then Sec. Neri called me up as well to tell me to calm down my wife because its creating a media hype already. But my captors have a different idea, they brought me instead to Libis, Q.C. and there I met a lawyer hired by Deputy Executive Secretary Manny Gaite of Malacaňang to draft my false affidavit and be forced to sign it under duress of Col. Paul Mascariňas of the PNP the following day, while at the same time, Gen. Razon the PNP Chief was busy changing his story of where I was and how I ended up in their custody, up until the very end when I spoke with Mike Defensor who was convincing me to have a press conference to deny that I was abducted and deny any involvement with the NBN ZTE deal, kasi nasasaktan na si Mam o kung kokontra ka eh “tatrabuhin ka lang naman naming sa media!”, a threat which is in full steam and venom right now, courtesy of malacaňang mercenaries disguised as journalist and their special operatives handlers. This highly paid group has successfully buried the kidnapping and attempted rubout case under a rubble of lies that they unceasingly manufacture against me, from poison letters, komiks, media attacks to black propaganda special operatives, waiting to pounce on every opportunity they can to destroy the trust that the public may have given me.

The Reluctant witness, I do not want to be a Hero!
The first Senate hearing was really a gut wrenching experience, I was physically exhausted from lack of sleep for almost a week, I was not able to eat well for two days before the hearing, my nerves are wracked from psychological tension, I was afraid of the consequences of what I am going to say for myself, my family, my career, my reputation and my future. And I was fearful of what the GMA cabal will do to me for what I was about to do, knowing fully well their vindictiveness on their enemies which I was to become.

My hands were shaking when I was taking the oath to tell the truth to God and to the country, it was almost ten hours of agonizing discourse with the senators, with questions ranging from the profound to the ridiculous, some with empathy some with malice and spite, altogether it was an experience that I do not wish upon anyone else.

The succeeding ones were not as gruelling as the first but as demanding in terms of defending the truth from those who attacked it and wish to destroy it with their lies, I was at first polite being once a colleague of these men, but was forced to be more resolute in rebutting their lies when they shamelessly heaped upon the senators and the viewing public lies upon lies upon lies, which they themselves were contradicting in their own testimonies. I must admit that I was ambivalent between having pity on them for what they were doing against their conscience and scorn for them for blatant kapal ng mukha in telling all of these lies as if all the Filipino are stupid, at the end, I just left all to God who knows the truth even in the hearts of men and prayed that I just be left in his peace despite all the fury around me.

The Days between the hearings, invitations to speak!
The Association of the Major Religious Superiors of the Philippines, known as the AMRSP, who provided the Sanctuary to my young family and moral support to me during the entire period from Feb. 05, 08 to the present, started receiving invitations from the different schools and universities beginning initially from members of the Catholic Educators Association of the Philippines, known as CEAP, then even from non‐sectarian universities such as the Polytechnic University of the Philippines (PUP) and the Phil. Normal University (PNU), then a series of Sunday masses called the “Mass for Truth” was launched by the Watch, Pray and Act movement (WPA), The Religious of the AMRSP consulted the Blue Ribbon Committee if I would be allowed to go to these activities, which the senate agreed to allow under the condition that the Senate Security be given the overall security responsibility for my safety.

No Strategy, No Campaign
There is no strategy or a campaign, it was just a spontaneous response to an outpouring of support from the different sectors of society particularly from the youth. We don’t even have a prepared speech when we go to the schools just for me to be physically present is sometimes enough for the youth to feel in solidarity with what I did and what I stood for and that is “No more to corruption and greed!”.

There is no guideline either, sometimes we get to face a boisterous mob, sometimes we get to face a few people listening intently. Government propagandist are alarmed with the kind of warm reception I am having from the young people and they are immediately countering with all sorts of black propaganda that I am now on the political campaign trail for 2010, and to my surprise many people did actually buy this propaganda until they actually spoke with me and realized that they were again fooled once again by the sorcerer of the administration. As I have said many times over, all I want is to do after this is over and I’m hopefully in one piece is to put up a chicken inasal business, but on a more serious note, let me categorically state that I am not running for any electoral position on 2010.

No Politico, No Funding
One of the favourite lie by the GMA administration that is being ably spread by the National Security Council and its religious cohorts headed by Norberto Gonzales, is that I am a pakawala of certain politicians particularly Lacson & De Venicia, that I am receiving funds from these politicians handlers. I use to take it lightly until some of my close friends in the religious community who were attending theology classes being handled by the ideological twin of Gonzales in a university in katipunan, started telling me of how this Priest professor was actually using wiretapped conversations of me to deceive his students in moral theology that Jun Lozada is such a wily person who has outwitted the entire nation by staging his own kidnapping, rescue and even his senate appearance, and in the process has fooled the entire government machinery and its big wigs such as Sec. Atienza, Mike Defensor, Manny Gaite, Atty. Tony Bautista, Gen. Sonny Razon, The PSG, The PNP’s Col. Mascariňas and his minions, what a tall tale this religious is telling, sobrang galing ko naman na malansi ko lahat itong mga madudunong na taong ito at sabay sabay pa. Then I was told that he is doing the same presentation when he does the retreat for some religious congregation, that is why I am now not surprised when officiating priests in our celebration of the mass will show me texts from their brother priests telling them not to be used by Lozada and his politician handlers, and much to my relief these priests who have actually heard me share my personal reflections would assure me that they will be the one to set right their misinformed brothers of their community.

In fact one of the best kept secret of my present predicament which I was not sharing with the public until I had the permission of the AMRSP is that one of the conditions of their sanctuary protection being provided for my family, is that I should not be associated with any political party or with any political figure or else they will be forced to take us out of their sanctuary program. I am 24/7 together with the religious brothers and sisters of the AMRSP who monitors who comes to visit and where I can go, I guess those who are not sure if they are being misled by these government propagandist can easily verify this information by calling the AMRSP National Office at 725‐3478 and look for Sr.Estrella Castalone, FMA, Sr. Cres Lucero, SFIC or Sr. Mary John Mananzan, OSB.

All expense for our trips are to be paid for by the organization who invites us, is one of the major conditions for our acceptance of an invitation.

Public smiles, Private agonies
The media portrays me in a smiling and seemingly enjoying a new found fame in the public eye, but what media fails to portray is the private sufferings of myself and my family from the ceaseless harassment from death threats, character demolition, legal suits to black propaganda, the pain of seeing my children crying their hurts out upon seeing the news of my past mistake, the frustration to see my boys lost out their academic honors because they were able to go school for almost a month, to share the pain of my children who were ostracized by their barkada’s parents at baka madamay pa sila sa gulo ni Lozada, the discomfort of not being able to stay in your own home, the fear for the physical security of my family, the insecurity of not being able to work out a living with a family to raise and the uncertainty of having a normal family life ever again.

To those who gets turned off when they see me on media portrayed like a politico, ako po ay humihingi ng paumanhin dahil ako ay walang training o pagsasanay, pero kayo kaya lumagay sa kalagayan ko?

Pinagdudusahan ko na nga at ng aking pamilya ang pasiya kong maglingkod sa Bayan, ako pa ang sisihin ninyo dahil nakangiti ako pag nasa labas? I do not want to be self righteous, but may I ask you to reflect on these questions before you judge me?

What have you done to correct corruption?

What have you given up to fight corruption?

What have you gained from corruption?

What have you done to uplift the victims of corruption?

Or are you one of those who will simply turn your back on corruption without trying to correct and you rationalize your inaction to fight corruption with such thoughts as “basta ako mabuti, hayaan mo na silang masasama dyan” or “Hayaan mo na sila baka madamay pa tayo sa gulo” and other similar excuses?

Sharing my Personal Reflections, Let the light into the Dark
Let me share with you now in writing my personal reflections similar to what I share with the students and parishioners when I talked to them during my visit, an act purely out of my own personal conviction as a Christian, of living up to the teaching “Love your neighbour as you love yourself”.

What is it in these reflections that the administration propagandist find so alarming I really do not know, although I suspect that they are afraid that these reflections may encourage many more people to go to the Light and uphold the truth that they know as well, and in the process shed light on the darkness that pervades the government and expose more of these corrupt transactions that has long been kept from the people.

Here is the first of the four lessons that I share with the people that they may avoid the same suffering that I am undergoing through right now because of my decision to tell the piece of truth that I know about the NBN ZTE deal.

If you know someone who wants to tell the truth, encourage them – Because from my own personal experience, nobody told me or encourage me to tell the truth when I was seeking the advice of my family, friends, colleagues, including the religious. What was worse is that I was even the one that was being asked to defend and justify my position why I wanted to tell the truth. I felt so alone then and sad that in our society, kung sino pa ang gusting magsabi ng totoo, siya pa ang dapat magpaliwanag bakit, hindi ba baliktad? Hindi ba ang dapat ay ang mga nagsisinungaling ang dapat pinag papaliwanag natin? Katulad ngayon, ako ang nagsabi ng totoo pero ako ang nagtatago kasama pati pamilya, samantalang yung mga nagsisinungaling ay malayang nakakauwi sa mala‐palasyong bahay nila, malayang nakakapunta sa mga gusto nilang
puntahan, malayang kasuhan ako ng kahit na anong kasinungalingan, pero walang humihingi sa kanila na ipaliwanag nga nila yung mga balu‐baluktot na testimonia nila sa Senado.

Napakalungkot na kalagayan na ito para isang bayan naturingan pang karamihan ay Kristiyano. Ipakita po natin sa ating kapwa na tayo ay handang sumuporta at umalalay sa mga gustong gumawa ng mabuti at mag sabi ng totoo.

Do not tolerate corruption, because by tolerating it you are actually participating in it – The second lesson I have learned is that in our Filipino society of today, we tolerate corruption and crime as long as our family is not affected. We tolerate corruption and crime in the name of peace, yung attitude na huwag ka ng makialam at baka madamay pa tayo. We tolerate corruption and crime by rationalizing that as long as we mean well to our fellowmen & in all self righteousness washed our hands with these crimes by saying “basta tayong pamilya ay mabuti hayaan mo na silang masasama gawin ang kalokohan nila!”. It is similar to turning your back when you see a victim being raped, you knew a crime is being committed but you did nothing dahil baka madamay ka pa sa gulo, at nagsawalang kibo ka ulit nung nakita mong ninanakawan at pinapatay yung ibang tao sa ibang parte ng bansa, tapos nagsawalang kibo ka ulit nung ninakawan at napatay yung kapitbahay mo, ng dumating ang araw na ikaw at ang pamilya mo naman ang nabiktima ng mga magnanakaw at mamatay tao, nakita mo na wala ring kumibo para tulungan ka at iyong pamilya. Ganito na ang kalagayan n gating lipunan, wala ng Samaritanong gusting tumulong sa mga nabibiktima ng mga magnanakaw at mamamatay tao.

What is worse with tolerating corruption is that those who tolerate it later on becomes part of the corruption, after a little more while then they become the purveyor of corruption themselves, kasi yan na lang ang paraan para umasenso. Ipakita natin na tayong mga Pilipino ay kayang kumilos laban sa mga masasama at pwedeng mamuhay ng marangal at Malaya laban sa korupsyon.

Teach the children to listen to their conscience and model to them acts of integrity – This is one of the lessons I learned from my interaction with the young people during my initial school visits and this question was commonly asked by the youth in different schools, “Sir Jun, among all the people we saw and heard on TV regarding the NBN‐ZTE deal, you are the one naman that we believe who is telling us the truth, but what we can not understand is why are you doing it? You have put your life in danger, you have put your family in harms way, you have lost your job, even your future is uncertain, why are you doing it? What will you get something in return? This question which is often asked with curious innocence and with no evident malice, which often will lead me to answer them that in life, there are certain things you must do because it is the right thing to do, because it is what your conscience dictates to be the right thing to do and often lead you to act in an honourable way, into an act of integrity and you do it without any consideration of money or material things in exchange. In fact, when I asked them if they still
talk about honour & integrity with their parents, most of them will say “no!”, that is why it is important that parents should provide the children with a good role model. Although it may true that I did not receive money, material things or power in exchange for what I I did, I told them that I have receive something that is more valuable in return and that is the genuine affection of strangers, including the trust and respect of many people particularly the youth, I told them that no amount of money can ever buy the affection, trust & respect of the people.

You must accept your own truths as you go to the light of truth – More than the fear for my life, more than the fear for the safety of my family, more than the fear for my career and my livelihood, was the fear that if I decide to hold the light of truth, I cannot avoid being the first one to be shone upon by its light, I cannot avoid that my own blemishes in life, my secrets be exposed to the public. It was this fear of laying the truth of your entire life to the public, of accepting with humility the confession of your own truth to the entire nation, it was the greatest
fear I have to overcome in wanting to tell the piece of truth that I possess in the NBN‐ZTE deal.

These are my reflections of my ordeal and the lessons I have learned over the last two months as a result of my decision to tell the truth of what I know about the NBN‐ZTE deal, with the aim of encouraging other people as well to come to the Light and allow the Light into their hearts that have been darkened by lies, evil and deceit, which has contributed to the poverty and suffering of our people.

Seeking the truth & Demanding for accountability & justice
I want to end this reflection paper with the same thought that I started with Seeking out the Truth, the people should exercise their sovereign right, the highest right of a Nation for this administration to put out the remaining pieces of the picture of truth of the NBN‐ZTE deal, I have paid and I’m still paying a very high price for the piece of truth that I have put out for the people to see. The failure of this administration to let out the other pieces of truth being held by the government, should lead to a demand for accountability by those who will be found betraying the trust of the people, for without truth and accountability there will be no justice in the land.

I have now come to realize, this is not about Jun Lozada, it is about every Filipino fighting for what is right against an unjust order, it is about every Filipino demanding from its government the truth amidst the lies & deceit, its about every Filipino rallying to battle against the evil that has long imprisoned the Filipino people.

And I have now finally understood what is the meaning of my sufferings for, I have paid the price of telling the Filipino something they have known all along and yet do not want to be told.

Panata, Penitensiya And Swearing On The Cross

2008-04-13T23:02:00.009+08:00

During the Lenten season, the passion of Christ is depicted by some Filipinos in a sadistic fashion but not for no reason. Most do this for the atonement of their sins or penitence (penitensiya in Filipino), as if Christ’s sacrifice wasn’t sufficient. Some have sworn – a sort of sacred pledge – to do this as an act of thanksgiving or in gratitude for a miracle that happened once upon a time in their lives. In the Filipino vernacular, this type of pledge is called a panata. Others start off in petition for something really big such as the healing of an ill loved one and when their prayers are answered, they end off passing the pledge to the their next generations, making it a family tradition. Getting crucified is an extreme example of a panata.

With red being the motif, the entire event is local color at its finest. Everyone is dressed to the occasion from the person playing Jesus (suitably called Kristo) to the Roman soldiers, and though their number doesn’t quite reach a hundred, a centurion is among them. They’re not just dressed as if in a costume party though, they take their roles quite seriously. It starts off with the soldiers beating the penitents’ backs with a piece of wood beaded by broken glass, until blood is drawn. The Kristo then carries the cross along the streets and heads towards Calvary (aptly coined, the Filipino term for heavy burden is kalbaryo). The flagellants, with either crowns of thorns on their heads or red hoods over them, join the procession, whipping their backs with steel chains, or bamboos, or some other improvised torture devices designed to inflict pain, tear flesh and create permanent scars. It is not uncommon for blood to get splattered all over and if the scourger is not the flagellant himself, even he is not spared from the gruesome sprays of red.

The climax and naturally the most shocking part is the nailing of the believer to the wooden cross. Several pieces of rope or strips of clothing are used to tie the Kristo by the wrists, arms and legs and then the five or six-inch nails, previously sterilized by soaking in boiling water or alcohol, are driven by hammer through the hands and feet.

It’s not only men who are brave, faithful, zealous or crazy enough to do this. There are a handful of women who have also made the strange ritual their own. One female claims she has been getting crucified annually for over fifteen years. Whatever their gender, the Kristos are wise enough to opt to stay on the cross for a few minutes or hours instead of days.

The Catholic Church does not encourage this activity although self-inflicted pain as a form of purging one’s sin is historically present in the faith. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about the government because the annual act has become a tourist attraction. They only give reminders on the dangers of using unsterilized nails or flagellants and persuade the penitents to go for tetanus shots before taking part in the yearly tradition.

This Good Friday 2008, thousands of local and foreign tourists flocked to Pampanga to witness the event. At some point, the crowd got a little too excited, a little too rowdy, and pushed their way nearer towards the erected crucifixes.

One of those crucified, a woman, annoyed and probably worried, shouted to the crowd, “P__ I____ niyo! Wag kayong magtulakan.” (Literally translated: “Your mothers are whores! Don’t push one another.” Perhaps this one’s a more appropriate translation: “You sons of bitches! Stop pushing!”)

One of the photographers present, unable to suppress his anger shouted back, “P___ I____ mo rin!” (“Your mother’s a whore too!”).

In this truly colorful event, swearing on the cross takes a whole new meaning.

Next To Godliness

2008-03-22T21:08:00.026+08:00

Strange are the practices that mean cleanliness to others. Stranger still are the habits some have not picked up for the sake of cleanliness.

Brushing after meals

In my previous company, two of my colleagues had a very interesting conversation. I remember only a part of it but it’s enough to get the point across. This took place in the pantry after lunch, around 1 p.m.

“Hey Jio, why are you brushing your teeth here?”, asked Janice, who usually asks all sorts of questions.

“It’s the sink, where else should I be brushing my teeth?”, Jio replied with a puzzled tone and then a jovial laugh.

Janice blabbered away while walking out the door. It was typical of her to do that.

What’s so strange or interesting about this exchange of words?

First, if you’re not from a place where you’re used to seeing people brush their teeth after lunch, Jio’s habit might be a little odd for you. I recall a former colleague greeting me “Good morning!” every time he saw me brushing my teeth in the toilet. I come from a place where the odd one out is the one whose breath fails to smell of toothpaste or mouthwash at the 2 p.m. meeting. It’s not only a major turn-off but it’s also taken as a sign of poor hygiene.

Second, if you’re used to seeing officemates perform this ritual religiously, you might have the same question as Jio’s running in your head right now. Where is one supposed to brush his teeth but in the sink anyway?

I only know what Janice was trying to say when she poked Jio with her question because of my own experience. Otherwise, I wouldn’t get her. At home, my mother never hid her disgust whenever she caught us spitting on the kitchen sink, brushing our teeth included. I guess I have been to too many of my friends’ houses to notice that the same rule applies to some of them.

For a lot of families, at least from where I come from, there is a great distinction between the sink in the kitchen and the bathroom. Only dishes, fruits and vegetables can be washed in the kitchen sink, everything else had to be washed in the bathroom or the laundry area.

Washing dishes

When we were being tasked to wash dishes when we were young, it was a no-no for me and my brothers to put the dishes on the sink after soaping them; that was what the counter top beside was for. My mom had another important rule, the sponge (or cloth) used to soap the dishes can’t be used for any other purpose such as wiping the tiles dry or scrubbing the sink. In time, I came up with my own set of rules, the most important one being “All the dishes had to be scrubbed squeaky clean.”

If we dwell on water conservation for just a minute, using a basin when rinsing the dishes is not such a bad idea. My friend Clover got the whole concept wrong. His advice, “Don’t use the water in the basin you’ve already used to rinse the other dishes because it’s like washing them with all the dirt from the previous ones.”, fails to take into consideration the following points:

the dishes are scrubbed and pre-rinsed before getting soaped to get rid of grease and grime

the recycled water from the basin is used to wash off the suds

the final rinse will always make use of running water from the faucet.

I never forgot the answer to my teacher’s question designed to test who in class were helping with the household chores,

“What’s the correct order of soaping or rinsing dishes:
a) spoons and forks, cups, plates
b) cups, spoons and forks, plates
c) plates, spoons and forks, cups?”

If you don’t know the correct answer, please believe me when I tell you that there is and that it’s perfectly logical. (There are reasons why manholes are better off as circular in shape too; think about it.) Don’t be too hard on yourself if you haven’t been doing this task. By the way, I didn’t give the teacher the correct answer.

Eating with hands

A friend once said to me that the best way to enjoy food is to use one’s hands to eat. I won’t disagree.

Back in the Philippines, this is very common especially in the provinces. I even remember TV footages of the president sharing a meal with the common folks where utensils except for drinking cups were unnecessary. I won’t dwell on the political side of things and just continue imagining the festive setting. Heaps of rice and generous servings of several viands and fruits were served buffet style on overlapping banana leaves, which were spread across a chain of wide wooden tables. The food was arranged neatly and strategically at the center part of the now grand table so that the participants can sit on benches found on either side and make use of the banana leaves as plate.

It goes without saying that washing one’s hands before and after eating is a must. There is proof (more than one actually) however, that suggest the second part is often times forgotten. Greasy phones, pens, keyboards and mice are on top of the list. If you had a sharp nose like mine, you’d smell the trace of evidence when making a call to confirm your 2 p.m. meeting.

Taking a bath in the morning

I met Nica in 2006 and one of her stories that retained in my head was how her daughter was banned from coming to school with wet hair. It wasn’t because she wagged it like a dog nor is it because she caused some sort of inconvenience to anyone; she was simply out of place. Nica was allowed to discuss the issue with at least one school official and their meeting yielded a question she didn’t know how to answer: “Why have her daughter take a bath in the morning when she’s already taken a bath before going to bed?”

The question stumped her not because she didn’t have a good answer but because a realization suddenly hit her. But then again several questions raced through her own mind before she could open her mouth to answer the original question.

I can only name a country where taking a shower before going to school or the office is akin to brushing one’s teeth in the morning, where this practice is a norm. I cannot argue that this is how it should be. However, I don’t see anything wrong with it especially if water shortage was not a problem or if the country only has two seasons and the average temperature was higher than 25°C.

Nica and her daughter settled for waking up an hour earlier. I thought using a hair blower was a viable option as well.

Food centers

I find it hard to believe that some things I consider common sense need to be taught. For instance, when a waiter brings your soup, you wouldn’t expect to see his thumb dipped inside to provide additional flavor, right? What about when serving drinks and putting cups on the tray? Being able to hold several at once may seem like a neat trick but I certainly don’t appreciate it if the fingers go into the cup and touch the ice. Same goes for handing off straws, spoons and forks; shouldn’t the food server know by instinct that he shouldn’t touching the parts that go into the mouth?

In one food courts I’ve been, I noticed one server use a plastic glove while peeling and slicing the fruits I ordered only to see her not take it off when she took my money and got change from the counter. Just when I thought she’d make my day…

Call me finicky but I believe good service means not taking such things for granted.

Deodorants

Just like sunscreens, deodorants were invented for a reason. I have to admit I wasn’t able to appreciate the value of my elementary teacher telling us to start using deodorants during puberty. Now I can only wish that the advice was given by concerned teachers all over the world.

Now in the Digital Era where professionals bring laptops, iPods, BlackBerrys and other hi-tech gadgets to the office, I find it hard to believe that some of us have not yet discovered deodorants.

Paul and I were in the pantry area one day, the only place where we could have access to broadband Internet and therefore check our emails. There was this one particular man who came between us and plugged his laptop in the available port. We couldn’t stop from twitching our noses and turning our heads away in agony. Good thing the guy left after a couple of minutes. Paul was shaking his head in disbelief while I couldn’t stop myself from muttering, “What a very powerful man.”

Gravy, Ketchup, Chili Sauce And Curry

2007-07-20T23:20:00.004+08:00

“Since when did KFC have gravy!?”, interjected Chung Mon as I was merely starting to tell him about my experience in the KFC-White Sands branch in Pasir Ris.

We were contemplating on where we should try having lunch next when he mentioned KFC. I could see from the look on his face that it was meant to be a rhetorical question so I didn’t bother to respond.

On that day, I ordered a few pieces of chicken. I immediately knew that something wasn’t right when the service crew who took my order seemed a bit surprised when I requested for gravy. I had to hide my initial dismay when I looked into the bag and found out there was only chili sauce. Now I felt tremendous pressure to maintain a poker face. Before I knew it, I got referred to the manager on duty.

After checking the contents of what looked to me like a small, stainless refrigerator, the manager simply said to me, “Sorry, we have no more gravy on stock.”

For a second or two, I could not believe what I just heard. I managed to say "Thank you." before leaving.

Incidentally, part of the á la carte we were having for lunch was a pair of chicken wings. I asked for ketchup from the waitress. She nodded her head and left. Just when I thought she had forgotten about my request, she came back to our table and spoke to Chung Mon in Mandarin. I could sense she was asking something about the ketchup. About a minute later, much to my delight, she came back with a bottle of tomato ketchup.

“Seems like I have to honor of being first.”, I said to Chung Mon, noticing that the bottle looked new and was full to the brim.

“Yes, not too many ask for ketchup here.”, came Chung Mon’s reply.

“I guess most of them go for chili sauce.”, I replied back.

“Yes, that’s right.”, was Chung Mon’s answer.

The KFC story didn’t end with the gravy (or without the gravy), the others who partook of the meal shared my frustration over the taste of the chicken. I vowed never to try KFC in that branch again.

If you grew up knowing that KFC chicken goes well with gravy, you’d share my frustration at its absence. In the same way, if you’ve had chili sauce with KFC chicken all your life, it would have been strange to find someone asking for gravy to go with it.

In the Philippines, the sales of the world-famous franchise probably spiked up when they began offering additional gravy free of charge. They would have stopped it many years ago if it didn’t. I remember people coming back to the counter for additional gravy. I was always one of those who would pour gravy on his rice and ask for more. Such behavior became too common that many branches began assigning one of the crew members to go around and offer gravy to their customers. They came holding a stainless thermos filled with the hot, brown and creamy delight. At a time when bottomless and all-you-can became buzzwords associated with food and drink, the endless supply of gravy was a big hit. Soon, other fast food chains followed suit.

(to be continued...)

Clerihews

2007-01-09T18:56:00.001+08:00

Wikipedia defines a Clerihew as a very specific kind of short humorous verse, typically with the following properties:

  * It is biographical and usually whimsical, showing the subject from an unusual point of view; but it is hardly ever satirical, abusive or obscene
  * It has four lines of irregular length (for comic effect)
  * The first line consists solely (or almost solely) of a well-known person's name.

Here are a few I wrote:

1. The thing about Chippy
Is that he always seems happy
He loves to smash balls
While we walk the halls

2. Ronald Brother Boombey
Many ways he has to make his day
He'll beat you at poker
At badminton, he's the commissioner

3. Odie is a good diver
And is great as a programmer
Mangas he loves to read
What completes his day is an Anime feed

4. Paul is quite quiet
Oh, but he can sing a duet
A computer for a brain
He likes the south where there's rain

The G-PASS Ordeal

2006-12-07T18:12:00.001+08:00

A few months ago, my friend Chippy introduced me to G-PASS -- supposedly a more convenient way to pay MRT fares as opposed to buying tickets. Although I’m no longer a frequent MRT commuter, I was thrilled with the prospect of not having to worry about the endless queue for tickets when I needed to travel by train. After all, the prepaid tickets sold by the MRT expired after a few months taking whatever credits were left with it.

My first few tries with G-PASS were successful; I was happy with Globe’s seemingly wonderful product. The company I worked for envisioned something very similar a few years back and although we were not the ones who were able to launch such a product, I was happy to see it finally happen as it does makes life a little bit easier for the commuters out there. But is it a reliable service?

I had to attend a workshop in Makati last November 8-10 and the MRT was still the best way to get there from Quezon City. I tapped my G-PASS on the sensor but I didn’t hear the usual beep and I couldn’t get through. I tried tapping again on the other available turnstile but got the same results. I saw there was an extra sensor near the emergency gate so I told the guard about my problem and inquired if they could have my G-PASS checked. He said he "knew nothing about it and that G-PASS wasn’t their service". I couldn’t let this ruin my day so I followed the guard’s instructions to just buy a ticket and proceeded to join the queue. When I got ahead of the line, I threw the same set of questions to the teller. She threw back the same set of replies I received from the guard earlier. After buying a ticket and finally getting through, the guard’s closing remarks were “The sensor is defective. G-PASS should’ve put a sign there to indicate that”.

I got off at the Buendia station. I was worried about leaving my G-PASS with an open open transaction that would cost me a whole lot more than the necessary fare so I tapped on the sensor hoping that this would register an exit if my earlier entry attempt was recorded as successful. The turnstile didn’t allow me through so I had to use my ticket. I politely asked the guard if they could check my G-PASS credits after recounting my experience in the Quezon Ave. station. This time I wasn’t so surprised with the answer he gave.

I felt a bit of hope when I saw that the Globe G-PASS store in this station was already open. I told the guy behind the counter about my whole ordeal and asked if he could check my chip. He confirmed my earlier fear about paying a whole lot more if the transaction was left open. Apparently, the sensor in Quezon Ave. was working because the chip registered that I went through that station. I was relieved to find out I was able to avoid paying more but I still felt bad about the whole thing because I ended up paying double!

My friend Chippy encountered the same problem on several occasions. He said the guards and tellers kept telling him that they, the MRT, didn’t even earn anything from the use of G-PASS . He felt obliged to tell them that the opposite was true. There was only a single occasion when he was glad the guards at the Magallanes station knew what they had to do. Techno-stress is what Chippy prefers to label his whole experience.

I hope Globe Telecom and the MRT Management get their act together. I hope that the next time the same thing happens to me, the guards would know exactly how to proceed. I also hope that no G-PASS store would ever run out of credits to sell like what I once encountered in the Ayala station.

Again and again, the MRT employees talked about G-PASS as some third party they had nothing to do with. It appeared to me that they looked at G-PASS as something that merely existed to take away part of their revenues and possibly add to their everyday troubles. Why couldn’t they put the defective sign themselves? Why do they not wonder what the extra sensor near the emergency exit is for? Why weren’t they thoroughly briefed about the protocol in such cases?

Chippy says, " G-PASS works 90% of the time, which, isn’t really great." I have to agree with him.

Allan: Not By Sight But By Vision

2006-10-27T17:31:00.003+08:00

“… the man was born blind in order that the works of God might be displayed in him.”
John 9:3

Allan: Not By Sight But By Vision

“… the man was born blind in order that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

--John 9:3

RAYMOND ALLAN SAN PEDRO GONZALES was born on August 2, 1986. He is the fourth in the family of five sons. His parents had been hoping for a baby girl but their initial disappointment was nevertheless overshadowed by his angelic looks and picture of pink health. Among his siblings, Allan stands out by possessing prominent good looks even at infancy.

The joy his parents felt turned into worry when they noticed something quite unusual with Allan’s eyes a couple of weeks after his birth. He was immediately brought to his pediatrician who suspected he had some sort of congenital cataract. His parents were then advised to consult an ophthalmologist, which they obligingly followed. After seeking second opinion, his parents had to accept the sad truth that Allan had bilateral retinoblastoma, or cancer of both eyes.

At 45 days old, Allan had to have his left eye enucleated. He also had to undergo treatments to save the other eye even if the sight could no longer be spared. He underwent radiation, chemotherapy and cryotherapy as well as two major operations.

When Allan was 4 years old, his parents made the very painful decision of having his remaining eye enucleated after a series of unsuccessful treatments as they ran the risk of having the cancer cells spread through the brain if they refused to follow the doctor’s recommendation. Allan’s condition started to improve after both his eyeballs were gone. Except for regular check-ups, all treatments were stopped. This gave a bit of relief to his parents, not only emotionally but financially as well. Except for the lost sight, Allan appeared to have a sound mind and able body. At age 11, he was declared cancer-free by his doctor.

When Allan was 2 years old, he started to show musical inclination. He seemed to love playing with the piano along with other musical instruments. He started singing at the age of 6 and was later enrolled in piano lessons at the age of 9. His teacher would send him home with a recording of a musical piece that he would later try playing on the piano. He would then come back to the teacher and play the piece. The teacher would correct flaws, if any, on his rendition. Later on his parents would also enroll him to voice lessons.

When he reached puberty and his voice started to change, Allan took a break from singing but continued with his piano lessons. After finishing his high school studies, he made the decision not to pursue a college degree. Fortunately, he decided to pursue what he is most passionate about -- music.

Though sight-challenged, Allan is blessed with a light heart and a good spirit. He is not only a remarkable musician with a special gift for his instrument, but is also blessed with a natural voice. He has inspired everyone around him with his quick wit and delightful attitude. Through him people see God’s awesome goodness and greatness.

Today, Allan’s greatest passion is his music. It is his vision to be able to share the joy of his life and music with a greater number of people. Allan continues to train professionally to pursue this dream. He is now into jazz piano improvisation and voice.

He currently teaches the Junior Choir of the church he grew up with, the IEMELIF Cathedral Church in Tondo. The church has been instrumental in giving strength, hope and joy not only to him but to his family as well. Allan is also a member of its Prayer and Praise Team and an officer in the youth organization.

Allan said, “God created me like this to show others that it is possible to do things that one thought was absolutely impossible”.

YouTube links:

You and I

Beauty and Madness

Here is Allan on Facebook. Become a Fan!

***

Diesel Please!?!

2006-07-05T13:46:00.002+08:00

Saw this at a Petron gasoline station along EDSA, Mandaluyong City, Philippines. Now I'm glad my mobile phones have built-in cameras. :)

Setting The Stage For A Wonderful Surprise

2005-10-25T18:59:00.000+08:00

Setting The Stage For Disaster

I was in a particularly good mood just before I got my surprise for the week. After a few grueling nights of trying to figure out how to interface with a hardware for a project that was almost due, I'm almost done with my last few refinements on the code. This is of course, for me, a small cause for celebration. Add to that the anticipation of something very important happening tonight. This is another reason for me to be in a festive mood! But like a masochist who enjoys punishment he inflicts upon himself, I was just itching to spoil my own happiness so I opened an attachment to an email I received earlier. I knew it was coming and now, all my good mood is down the drain.

Who doesn’t love surprises? But not all surprises come in good packages. Hmm.. I better correct that – not all surprises in good packages are pleasant.

It’s a lot easier to accept if such things happen at work. I’d only have to tell myself – it’s just work and nothing personal. Sometimes, people at work do things without properly setting the environment or without adequate social preparation. I’d prefer to deal with this kind of problem because I can always assume that the bottom line is that these other people are just trying to get things done and bring in the money. But even that is being dealt with around the globe. They have this thing called Change Management.

It’s different when it’s personal. Although some people get easily more excited than others, it’s fairly simple to get others feel the same by promising them something good will happen in the future. Of course, it’s a lot easier to piss them off by telling them a promise can't be fulfilled because it was just a joke. Timing is an important factor and allows more room for creativity. Telling people a promise has to be broken after they’ve made preparations and set their mood in anticipation is a perfect example.

Are there more subtle ways than this? I can think of some -- leaving out important details of the plan and changing the plan from time to time without letting those concerened know. Leaving intentional clues that lead them to find out the changes works best.

I guess I could go on ranting all day and not be able to effect the slightest change. Lesson learned? Learn to communicate more effectively -- let others know what ticks me off and hope they don't do it again. If they're true friends or if they love me dearly, I'm sure they'll come around. ;)

Familiarity Breeds Contempt

2005-10-12T02:00:00.000+08:00

It’s a familiar maxim indeed.

Maybe contempt is too strong a word. Complacency is a good candidate as a substitute. I find this play with words funny and sad: initially complaisant, complacent soon afterwards.

Isn’t that a common tale for people involved in different kinds of relationships? It happens in the office, at school or even at home. It happens between lovers, friends and co-workers.

I came across a letter from a young lady in an advice column. She wanted to solicit ideas on how best to tell her boyfriend that she wanted something else than what they’ve grown accustomed to for a few years now. Every year, she and her boyfriend would spend a week during their summer vacation with his friends. This happened once, twice, and then a few more times before it became sort of a habit. Each time, he didn't bother to ask if she thought this was a good idea or if she felt all right with it. He simply assumed year after year that she was happy with how they spent their vacation together.

The lady felt she wanted and needed a change. For the coming summer, she wanted to tell him that she actually wanted to spend time with him alone instead. The fact that her boyfriend was already starting to make plans with his friends worsened her trepidation. Letting him know about what she felt without offending him was a primary concern.

It would be presumptuous and pompous even, to simply conclude that the problem lies with the lady not being honest and open about what she felt. Perhaps, one could ask, wouldn’t things be easier if she let her partner knew about her take on things since the beginning?

I stand on the opposite side of the fence but my gender has nothing to do with it. My point is simple – being in a relationship makes us responsible in knowing and finding out about our partner’s thoughts, feelings and needs.

It’s true that people cannot read minds (okay, some can!) and that there’d probably be fewer problems and misunderstandings if only people spoke their hearts and minds out most of the time. The thing is, while this might be easy for some people, this is not always, and rarely is the case. The guy totally disregarded his partner’s thoughts, feelings and needs. He is guilty of this whether he was doing it intentionally or not.

It would be improper to declare that the guy’s intentions behind his actions weren’t decent. In fact, they might even be noble. But this doesn’t excuse him from exerting effort to find out if his actions bring about his desired results – making his girlfriend enjoy and feeling valued at the very least, or happy and feeling needed at best. It doesn’t excuse him from at least extending some courtesy by asking her feeling, opinion or permission even if in his mind he knows she will readily agree with what he wants. He should have been sensitive enough to find out what makes his partner happy.

A lot of us are guilty of the same offense or of something equal in nature.

Sometimes we assume too much. We assume our partners will always enjoy doing something because they enjoyed it once. We assume we don’t need to ask permission because we didn’t hear any complaint the first time we didn’t. We assume we truly know someone because we’re able to spend some time with that person.

Sometimes we get too comfortable with each other. We forget that we are talking to our superior. We forget whom we’re dealing with and begin to say jokes that are offensive in nature. We begin to rummage through our partner’s personal belongings without even saying a word. We act as if we owned our partners; we act as if we had the right to run their lives.

Sometimes we expect too much. We expect our partners to always understand because they constantly did in the past. We expect our partners to do some things for us because we did it for them.

Sometimes we just take things for granted.

Familiarity breeds complacency. Too much of it brings about some kind of discourtesy. We should not forget, even the slightest act of failing to extend courtesy is a form of disrespect.

Good-bye, Hello: Beginning Anew

2005-05-11T10:20:00.000+08:00

Adios, LOVELY place. Or at least that's what I've always called it. I'm saying good-bye to the apartment I've stayed for quite some time now.

Nah, it's not really lovely. Not even close. :D

I should have done it a long time ago. I remember my friend Carol's advice: "Where you live says a lot about your disposition in life." Well, I’ve always looked at it the other way around. I was willing to sacrifice, to be a bit of a masochist, to prove to myself again and again that I could endure small doses of suffering. It was all about endurance, a triumph of the human spirit, hopefully a rags-to-riches story in the future.

Call it weird, but I always had my own way of looking at things. I could not remain too comfortable about my current state lest I become completely contented and remain stagnant. I favor delayed gratification. A little suffering every now and then serves as a constant reminder that there are always better things to strive for. These bits and pieces of small triumphs become a source of hope in the future when more difficult things come about. I simply prefer to see things from bright side.

I remember the many times that I, covered by the black, disgusting vehicular fumes, had to wait for a ride under the debilitating sun. In a much smaller scale, it was a battle for survival where typically the weak gets trampled by the strong. Those who moved faster and wanted it more usually got to ride first. Those who were not so competitive had to endure more minutes of punishment. I am guilty of almost allowing myself to lose sanity a few of these times as I vowed not to wake up late again and to work harder and smarter so that in the future I didn’t have to go through such ordeal. If I could spare my future generations of such troubles, I would. The question I need to ask myself then is, Do I have what it takes?

The Blog

2004-08-05T18:11:00.000+08:00

I am stuck with what I'm writing. Recalling past events in my life and putting them into writing is not an easy task. I think this blog is pretty uselful. Now I can just go to this page and post my random thoughts. This sure beats keeping a journal -- this is an online journal.

Lloyd's Hate for Math - The Aftermath

1999-03-01T20:20:00.002+08:00

It was just another boring one-hour lecture for Lloyd. For him, everything taught in this subject was of no certain relevance to his life. He hated Mr. Ines, his teacher. He hated his classmates who excelled in his class. Most of all, he hated this particular subject--Math!

For now, he was thankful that the class was over and that he had survived another day of tedious tasks. He packed all his belongings absent-mindedly as he said good-bye to a few classmates. He was homeward bound in an instant.

He trudged along his usual path, seeing the same things and the same people, as if today were no different from yesterday. He began to cross the national highway after which he would take a 10-minute jeepney ride and then another 5-minute tricycle ride before he finally got home. This was his usual routine and he somehow found the monotony amusing.

Lloyd was already in the middle of the road and for some reason, he forgot to look towards his right. He took two more steps before finally realizing this but it was too late for him to react -- a speeding car headed straight towards him.

______________________________

Lloyd opened his eyes and realized that he must have been unconscious for some time. Seeing clouds everywhere he looked, he found his surroundings very unfamiliar. He took a few steps forward and saw something black and shiny far up ahead. Soon enough, he found himself in front of a huge, black, pearly gate, which appeared to be guarded by an old, bearded man wearing an oversized white robe. The man motioned for him to come closer; Lloyd obligingly followed.

The old man broke their silence first.

"I am Peter, the gatekeeper of Heaven. I shall determine if you will be allowed to enter or not."

To this the boy replied, "Uh... What exactly do you want me to do?"

"I shall ask you three questions. If you are able to answer all of them, you shall be allowed to enter heaven outright. Make one mistake and you shall be sent to purgatory. Not being able to answer all these questions means you will be sent to hell.", the old man answered.

"But I want to go back to earth and be with my loved ones.", Lloyd said.

"Although you are quite foolish for not wanting to enter Heaven but wishing to go back to earth instead, I shall give you that chance. You must answer at least two of my questions so you will be allowed to go back to earth!", the gatekeeper exclaimed.

The boy thought for a moment before finally speaking.

"All right, I’m ready."

The old man did not waste any time.

"In a year's time, how many days do you pray?", Peter asked.

"That's easy, I pray everyday! That's 365 and 1/4 days in a year!", Lloyd exclaimed.

Lloyd began to think. He prayed before and after going to bed, before and after eating meals. How could he possibly determine the exact number of minutes he prayed in a day, much less in a year?

"It’s a very difficult question. No person could possibly answer that!", the boy shouted.

"Ok then let me help you.", a new voice suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Lloyd was surprised to see an angel suddenly appear beside him.

"I am Anthony, your guardian angel.", the new voice said.

"If you pray an average of 30 minutes a day, what would be the total number of minutes you prayed in a year?", the angel continued.

The boy began to think and think but nothing came out of his mouth.

Again the angel tried to help: "There are 60 minutes in an hour, 24 hours in a day and 365 days in a year."

This time, Lloyd tried to concentrate very hard but much to his dismay, he could not come up with the answer.

"I’m sorry I don’t know the answer.", he finally admitted.

The next two questions were not any easier. But to each of this, the angel provided him with clues. All the necessary data were given to him, it was simply a matter of computation. No matter how much Lloyd thought about the answer, he could not come up with anything.

"Because you were not able to answer any of my questions, you shall be sent to hell!", the gatekeeper stated.

Lloyd cried his heart out, begged, begged more, and begged again, that he be sent anywhere except hell. He began to realize that maybe if he paid more attention to his teacher, he would have been able to answer the old man’s questions.

A mixture of fright and relief was felt by the boy when Peter finally said, "Alright. I shall give you another chance. But make sure that the next time you find yourself standing in front me, you will be able to answer my questions..."

With that, the boy became unconscious. He later found himself in a hospital bed with her mother staring at her while tears flowed out from her eyes.

______________________________

It was just another exciting day for Lloyd. For him everything that transpired was certainly relevant to his life. He loved his teachers. He loved his classmates and helped those who fell behind in their subjects. Most of all, he loved his subject--Math!

With less than a month before graduation day, Lloyd felt fulfilled enjoying the last of his high school life. He had already passed several entrance examinations to some of the finest universities in the country. It was only a matter of choosing what he felt suited him. He has planned on taking up BS Math after realizing how important the subject was in his life. He wanted to make Math his life! After all, Math might save him when the time comes.