For Sir G

This past week's been a strange week. Long tests. The final FLC (fuck yeah). Post Ilocos field trip. Which reminds me. I haven't blogged about a lot of things I should have been blogging about. The top of that list would have to be the death of my high school art teacher.

He was Mr. Carreon. My class and I called him Sir G. He was awesome. Always fashionable. Extremely friendly. Always happy to see you. He was a friend more than a teacher. But he was still a damn good one. He taught us all about art and what we should expect from art. The last time we talked was early during my first year of college. Back then I used to walk to school using Murphy's walk to go through the high school on my to the college. I bumped into him near the APSA. I think I was gonna ask Sir Sandy at the APSA if I could still get a Murphy's walk pass. (Just goes to show how high school minded I was up 'til then. Also, if you pass at Murphy's walk, you'll only ever need the pass once in your entire stay. Nobody ever watches that entrance into Ateneo except when opening or closing it.) So Sir G and I chatted a bit. I remember him complimenting me on my nice shoes. The black ones with the green, yellow and red stripes. My everyday shoes. It was really nice to hear that from him especially since he was the perfect model of a fashionable dude. We also talked about the stupid misprint on my I.D. It said School of Social Sciences and Engeneering. Sir G was like "Ateneo de Manila ba 'to?!" And I was like, "I know right".

It was really sad to lose him. To never have a chance to talk to him again. Talk about that Mideo Cruz exhibit. See what he thought about it. Analyze that shit. But I guess the smallest silver lining in all this is that whatever he taught and all the memories that we have of him will stay with us. In that way I guess he's never gone. We'll always remember him.

I talked to Aimee about this the night after we found out about his passing away. Everything is a memory. At least to us it is. It's a concept I remember discussing in Mr. Devilles' Filipino class. Anyways, everything is a memory. That's what ties together what happened and what happens today. So, even though someone dies. We still remember who they are and what they were to us. It's not a perfect way of looking at things. It's no replacement for actually having him back but at least we can reflect on how these people change us and make us who we are.

So there.

That's most of what I wanna say for Sir G.

Thank you, Sir. You changed me in a lot of ways. I'll always remember you.

GK, Fatcats, Traveling, Blips in Time, Dr Manhattan and Hope (One of the most malabo posts ever...or the best one yet!)

So we came from a GK visit just yesterday. It was going to be the first time we'd actually get to the meat of this whole NSTP thing and get away from all the preparations, talks and introductions. We got to the site and were immediately greeted by lots of kids that recognized us from previous visits. Some of them going, "Kuya Rap! Habulan nanaman tayo!" It felt nice to be remembered. Awkward though since I totally forgot who that kid was.

After walking up to the center of the area you'd notice that it's not as clean and pristine as all the videos about GK would suggest. There was still one river of garbage that I has yet to be cleaned up or at least fenced off so that people won't fall in. But I guess that's not so bad considering how the place must have looked before they started building better homes. Anyways, we were split up into groups. I had the distinct pleasure of being teamed up with Cheryl! Something I was thankful for because her cheerful pleasantness greatly complemented my being a badass with a heart of gold. Plus her Filipino is much better than mine...

We got to the first house. You could see that it was small even on the inside. The living room/ sleeping area comprised of a shelf of toys and trinkets, a picture frame full of medals and ribbons and a small TV (I might be making up the part about the TV). We sat on small plastic chairs near the door. Beside us you could see a thin girl was busy working on her school project about the different natural land formations in the Philippines. She was cutting up pictures from a poster and gluing them onto some bond papers. (We later found out that she owned those medals and ribbons). Beth, her mother was seated in a small chair in front of us. To her side, was her five year old son who would later on prove to be sort of the main thing about the visit.

As we proceeded with the interview we learned that our host had one more daughter who was busy playing outside and a husband that worked as a janitor. She told us that her two daughters both go to school only when they had enough money to take the trike that they needed to get there. What really interested me was what she told us about her son, Johnver's, medical condition. He had an enlarged heart and apparently needed a heart transplant. Currently they're waiting for an available donor to pop up. In the meantime, he takes medication provided by a German medical mission thing that has been working there for the past 25 years. These kind people supply him with the medicine he needs for no charge but unfortunately can no longer help him once their contract expires. That means his parents will have to buy the medicine for him. At about Php 350 per tablet, a recommended dosage of 1 tablet a day, and a minimum wage salary of Php 300+ a day (not including food, living expenses, and other things they have to pay for), I highly doubt they'll be able to maintain his medication without help.

According to her most medical missions only supply stuff like antibiotics. They do not cater to special cases like Johnver's. I couldn't help thinking about the government again. About how those motherfucking fat cats are nice and cozy living in their big ranches and huge flat screen TV's. Stealing money that could have been used to help people that will probably die without that help.

It's a sad screwed up world we live in. People can be hella selfish. There is some good though. On occassion. I guess GK is a testament to that.

I wish I could help too but then there's also I lot that I want for myself. I just saw a video that featured some hipster dude traveling the world. It's a really simple shot but the beauty from it comes from the stunning HD and the many many colorful sights and locations. It makes anyone want to quit and become a traveler. Question: how does one become a traveler? And I mean traveler not tourist.

Wish life were that easy. Wish people didn't have to die so unfairly. Wish traveling didn't cost so much. Wish I could go around the world and taste all the different dishes they have to offer. I wanna fucking eat some sushi.

Sigh.

You know there was this other thing that I was thinking about in church (other than mass blows lol). I was thinking that we're not so important. It's not a new thought but I got a different perspective of it in church. I looked around and saw all the people going to church as little blips in the history of the universe. They're just carrying on what happened billions of years ago. I mean life. As human beings we like to think of ourselves as important and special. We live our lives not considering the millions, thousands of even hundreds of years that will go by. We put importance in ourselves only (teenagers especially, psychology 101 will tell you that), when really, all we're going to do is die. The Earth will continue to exist for millions of years after all the humans on Earth have died. I'm not saddened by this though, cause as soon as my mind zooms out to that vast distance of time and space I remember where I am. Right here in a tiny little corner of the universe. Typing on my little keyboard and sipping on cold coffee.

I'm going to die but then so what? It's a marvel I'm alive in the first place. It's scary and vast out there but it's from that very same stuff that I was born.

I guess I got to thinking about this cause I remember Mr. Manhattan talking about this with Laurie Juspeczy, the Silk Spectre. He found the value of life in its unlikelihood. He called it a Thermodynamic Miracle. And if you're gonna go like, "You can say that about every life form!"

He said this:

"Yes. Anybody in the world. ..But the world is so full of people, so crowded with these miracles that they become commonplace and we forget... I forget. We gaze continually at the world and it grows dull in our perceptions. Yet seen from the another's vantage point, as if new, it may still take our breath away. Come... dry your eyes, for you are life, rarer than a quark and unpredictable beyond the dreams of Heisenberg. Come, dry your eyes. And let's go home." 


Yeah. I better conclude this thing. Maybe in a few years I can come up with something better. Right now though I hope you guys are alright with this:


The world is a dark place full of problems and death but  I guess that's why it's a good thing we can dream and go beyond what we have. Selfish or not selfish it's a way for us to remember what we can do to make our lives and the lives of others better. It's also a way for us to gain new perspectives and see the miracles in the seemingly commonplace. Johnver might be able to get some help if we do something about it. I could get to travel if I stay with my relatives in Japan. People around us become miracles that defy the chaos so prevalent in the universe. Maybe someday I'll get my sushi.


So yeah. It's good to dream, cause dreams are hopes and hope never dies.

CHORONZON: I am a dire world, prey-stalking, lethal prowler.

MORPHEUS: I am a hunter, horse-mounted, wolf-stabbing.

CHORONZON: I am a horsefly, horse-stinging, hunter-throwing.

MORPHEUS: I am a spider, fly-consuming, eight legged.

CHORONZON: I am a snake, spider-devouring, posion-toothed.

MORPHEUS: I am an ox, snake-crushing, heavy footed.

CHORONZON: I am an anthrax, butcher, bacterium, warm-life destroying.

MORPHEUS: I am a world, space-floating, life nurturing.

CHORONZON: I am a nova, all-exploding... planet-cremating.

MORPHEUS: I am the Universe -- all things encompassing, all life embracing.

CHORONZON: I am Anti-Life, the Beast of Judgement. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universes, gods, worlds... of everything. Sss. And what will you be then, Dreamlord?

MORPHEUS: I am hope.

A Hope in Hell

Words that try to sum up something but fail

I've been trying to put off posting something for a while now. A lot of it is due to the fact that I wanted to stay quiet. I'm probably deluding myself into thinking that maybe that's what I'm supposed to be doing. I figured though, it would be a waste to let the moment go by without saying anything about it. Maybe I needed some form of closure to mark the end of an era. It's probably really selfish of me but I'll just go on ahead and do it.

Yesterday was my sister's high school graduation. It was a long ass ceremony with a mass and speeches. The whole shebang. That day would be also the last whole day I would be spending with my relatives from Japan. The last time they came over was two years ago. I guess that just adds to the changes. Or at least I would like to think so.

College changes people. I say I have to agree. I have changed. I myself probably don't see those changes sometimes. But they're there. Or maybe they were latent traits that remained dormant but required changes in my own environment. All in just my first year. I wonder what else will change as time goes on. It scares me.

Yeah, that's one year down. Three more to go. Time moves fast. We all know that. I think the most important lesson in all of this change and speed is that (quite obviously) we have to live make sure everyday is spent wisely and as full as you can.

I digress.

People change. Times change. We're all moving into our endpoints and there's always a chance that we might lose those we care for. We have to be careful to avoid that. I learned that the hard way.

Things to be thankful for. I'm thankful for all the people I've met. First year was varied and full of different personalities. It was fun meeting people from everywhere. You also learn more about yourself. I'm also thankful for the friendships you make. The ones that get tested. The ones that last.The ones you will never forget.

This is my last first year (unless I decide to go to med school). Beginnings are great. Endings are used for reflection. I can't even begin to really sum up the year. Just creating the clincher leaves me already extremely incoherent. All I can really say is, thank you. Thank you to the people who were there. The people who weren't there. The people I didn't like. The people I love. The people who shared parts of themselves. The people who helped me grow. The people who loved me though I deserve much less. The people who you will never find anywhere else no matter how hard you try. The people you can never make it up to.

Thank you. I can never say that enough.

Finale vibe over here.

Changing my Life, Mom and Facebook, Dad and Horses, Japan and the Wrath of Phuket Thailand

I have two papers due tomorrow. A Lit poem analysis of the draft and the final version of Amaryllis by Ellen Bryant Voigt AND the draft for my reflection paper. I first imagined a reflection paper to be just a blogpost on paper. Guess I was wrong. Maybe it's the topic that makes it hard. "The moment in my life that affected me the most" or some sort of thing like that. I like to think that my life was not solely influenced by a single event. I guess I'm a work in progress. Every little thing that happens to me changes me a little. Some more than others.

 Enough of that shit.

Yeah. I'm just bumming. Finals week's coming up. Got a couple of long tests for this week too. A documentary for Fil to work on. There's also the lit play I helped write. Which I should mention is very very sweet. Not sweet awesome. Just sickeningly sweet. Damn my Eng/Lit block's love for sweet stories. We should have done something like Young Man in a Jeepney by Merlie Alunon. It's this poem about some cougar who savors the ass heat of a strapping young man who just got off the jeep. Bel was on fire during the analysis of that one.

What else... I haven't posted pics of Dark Shore yet. I feel like it's getting to be old news. And we need to perform more. Which reminds me. Recently, I've been feeling like a 90's teenage girl. Sort of like Debbie from the Wild Thornberries. My mom took to the habit of using Facebook. I have to say, back then, I thought  that those 90's teens who complained about how nosy they parents were especially when they were "keeping up with the times" were whiny bitches. Now I myself have become a whiny bitch. She's filled my computer with hundreds of copies of photos because she messed up copy-pasting them into another folder. She's tagged herself AND HER FRIEND on my super vain profile pic of me with a guitar (oh the visuality).

I do wish though, if she were to use a computer, that she learn how to use one properly. Or at least not leave so much shit lying around. Haha. I know, I'm asking for a beating. Maybe part of me is very confident that she will never see this blog (because she doesn't know how or she doesn't know what a blog is...teehee) or I'm still being a whiny teenage girl from the 90's.

In that sense, I admire my dad. So steady. So not reliant on computers. He will not appreciate anything that isn't either, delicious to eat, something related to horses, or business. For those of you who are wondering, my dad owns horses. They aren't magical. They don't eat light and shit rainbows. They don't fly. They're pretty neat like big dogs. And like dogs they bite. My dad got bit by one, right on the boob. It was purple for a while. Sounds quite funny, but it's only really a little funny.

And since everyone got in on the bandwagon and they're pretty close to getting out, I'll join in! Japan and the Earthquake.

I heard about it first from my dad who asked if my Tita living in Japan lived near Tokyo. I remember them staying somewhere else like Osaka so I thought that they would be pretty okay. The reality of the thing didn't sink in 'til much later. I saw footage of the tsunami on CNN and it looked like water sweeping up some diorama. Like if you stuck your AP (that's social studies to you) project into a canal during heavy rain. I couldn't help but think of Godzilla coming out of the water. (Yeah, I'm a terrible person) Anyways, we didn't get any word about whether they were safe or not until the wee hours in the morning when my mom managed to call them when communication was restored in Japan. (We should have used the internet instead, people managed to Tweet in spite of the shit happening around them) It turns out that they were okay. They lived about a 2 hour drive from the epicenter and only their figurines broke. My cousin and her dad got home at about 3 am already but they were safe.

With this event came a surge of posts, stats and other things in support for Japan. Of course, I doubt the authenticity of those posts. Clicking a like page isn't going to save anyone unless there's some sort of money involved and of course prayers help (I'm taking this with a MOUNTAIN of SALT) ONLY if you do something about it after. But at least the word is getting out.

Those damn cutesy Koreans...

Just last night, my grandma was getting into somewhat of a heated argument. It wasn't really an argument. She just kept talking about the nuclear power plant exploding. I found what she said hard to believe. Not because I don't believe in explosions. It's cause my grandma, bless her heart, misquotes and summarizes stories so erroneously some times. She just kept talking about how they evacuated the people 60 km and that 4 people died. So, I watched the news with her to check. As I was listening though she kept going, "YOU SEE!" when it had nothing to do with 4 people dying or something about 60 km. Oh grandma...

After which she mentioned how  people on the radio were talking about how Japan had this coming because of:

A. Some Tower of Babel analogy

~OR~

B. The atrocities committed during the Second World War

If you've read my previous post about how I'm an atheist. You might be able to imagine how I reacted to the first. I'm not gonna dwell on that. I just have to say, if you sincerely believe that. I believe you are Amish and I laugh at your fear of light bulbs.(Insensitive cartoon stereotype)

The second point also ticked me off. I'm not gonna even explain why. I mean c'mon. Who seriously believes that? It reminds me of the other Tsunami that hit Phuket, Thailand some time ago. My AP (that's still social studies to you) teacher mentioned that he didn't necessarily believe that it was the wrath of God. But it made you think...Phuket...Phuket... Puke...

Are you phuking kidding me, sir?

Comics, Pokemon and Rock 'n' Roll

Hello blog. It's been a while since I've had something to write that wasn't some self-indulgent thinking spell. Thank God.


Anyways, I'll start with something really lame. Pokemon. (I wish I could do the e with a line properly...) A few weeks or something ago, Aimee gave me a copy of pokemanz on her usb (the cap of which is probably being gnawed on by a cow in Batangas. Sorry, Aims!) It brought back lots of awesome memories of me playing pokemon. Only now, made more fun thanks to the spacebar which skips all the boring shit like walking. My journey through pokemanz was not at all smooth. The first time i tried it, I was all excited about the killer set of Pokemon I had devised. Then all that disappeared when the file was deleted. I think it was because I fumbled with the fucking load and save. I saved when the game started. Which meant the previous file on that slot was deleted... Lost forever to random ones and zeros...


In case this is obscure to you, saving on an emulator is different from how you save the file on the game itself. On an emulator, you save from any point during the game including the title sequence. I made the dumbass move to save during the title sequence...


On to something slightly less childish and a little more geeky. Webcomics. Not really webcomics. More of a Fil project. Not even my own Filipino Project. The same friend who lent me the usb whose cap I have lost and left susceptible to possible viral infection, had just recently been commissioned with the task of doing an epic comicstrip on the lives of Soaperman and Sipilyo Ranger. I'm not going to get into the details of the story (though I assure you it is filled with educational value and women's feelings). What I will talk about however is artistic direction. Tried my hand at helping out with the storyboard of the comic. It was loads of fun. The story went from a legit children's comic to something peppered with slightly more mature themes.

I use mature loosely.

Moving on to the last thing on the title,  Dark Shore rocked Health Sci night. We were bitchin'. I can say we because my guitar was totally heard (I was afraid it wasn't). That night we did a cover of You Give Love a Bad Name.  It was epic. Everyone else that night did acoustic things or pop things. We shattered the trend. Don't even get me started on the lights. The lights. The stage. The smoke machine. Kick ass. As lame as it sounds coming from the guy who played second guitar to someone like Jules Balmaceda, that night was awesome. I'm glad we played that night. If the rest of Dark Shore is listening,  thanks guys. ಥ_ಥ

(When I get some of the pics back. Or the vid. I shall post.)

V-day

I am noticing an ever increasing trend of me writing when I have nothing else to do.

Anyways, Valentines day just came and gone. This year's Valentines had much more emphasis than a lot of the previous Valentines days before. I wonder why...

I am not going to talk about the details of the day. Most of it would mean nothing to you. What I will write about is the conversation Bel and I chanced upon when we got back to our blockmates after obtaining some flowers (from Isko's secret garden).

The blockmates were in the middle of some heated argument about the meaning of Valentines day and why you have to have 1 day special. Someone said that you should just treat everyday as special as Valentines day. Jeth (correct me if I'm wrong) said that you need to have one day special to set them apart from the other days. Personally, I agree with Jeth.

It's like having your favorite dessert and spending everyday celebrating that you have that dessert without really enjoying it. You can say that being happy that you have the dessert is part of enjoying it but you never really eat it. The best part about having dessert is sinking your teeth in it and savoring the flavor. Not overthinking it. Just chew, swallow, digest. (I really hope you're following my logic) Similarly, love is like that. You can't spend everyday going apart from your daily routine to celebrate your love. You have to integrate that love into your day. Into the skip in your step. Into that extra millimeter added to the width of your smile as you laugh at some lame joke your blockmate says. Into the breath of fresh air after a long test. That's what love's about: living with it. Not what it's all about, mind you.

I hope I made some sense in what I said. It's just what I think anyway. Not all of what I think. Haha.

Anyways, for those of you who hate extra sweet couples on Valentines, here's a vid of the annual stoning of a disgustingly sweet couple.

Click me!

Minimal Exposure trip, mostly 3rd Year Immersion and barbecued chicken heads.

Just yesterday we had our exposure trip to Brgy. Bagong Silang. Being from the Ateneo High School interacting with kids from communities like the ones we saw was nothing new to me. We had to do something like that once a year from 1st to 3rd year. Fourth year was every Thursday. Still, I find communicating with the kids kind of difficult because of the awkward language barrier.

The whole thing went by quite smoothly thanks to the expert party planning of Cher and Mico, and of course the wonderful hosting skills of Alvin Cabalquinto. The kids from Bagong Silang were nice enough and really excited to be part of the games. I couldn't help but compare the trip to the things we used to do in high school though. During our 4th year, we had TD sessions every week. This meant lesson plans every week, trying to find new ways of teaching English, looking up the topic on the internet and attaining a rudimentary grasp of the topic (Prepositions...I'm sorry kids). It became really tedious really fast, but the year that I spent teaching them allowed for me to form a bond with them. The kids at Bagong Silang, not so much. That's just because I haven't spent time with them yet.

Two other kids, Jasper and Jasmine became my foster siblings during my 3rd year immersion in Payatas. Rather than writing about it, I'll post the paper I had to do after the trip. I must warn you, it gets really cheesy. And even then coherence and unity were alien to me. Also, I'll be adding comments in absolutely heterosexual and totally not insecure blue.

Immersion Reflection Paper

            Getting on the jeep to Payatas I was already pumped up for the weekend my classmates and I were going to spend there. I could see my classmates were too, especially Kim. “Parang tayo yung special ops na sasabak sa giyera!” he would say over and over again. That’s kind of what I thought too. Only a few of my classmates chose to join and that made all of the people there daring and bold (Cheesus Christ). I was glad I joined the immersion.

            

             When we got off the jeep, first thing everyone noticed was the smell. It wasn’t unbearable but it was still unpleasant. You could tell the dumpsite wasn’t that far away from where we were going to stay. The thought of that only excited me more since I wanted to see for myself what I could endure and this was something I was determined to undergo (I was a regular Bear Grylls).

            We had the meeting in the chapel and we were eventually separated and introduced to our foster families. That was the time I met Kuya Willy, my foster father for the immersion, and his two kids, Jasmine and Jasper. He seemed very friendly and greeted me with a wide grin. Then, we took the walk towards the house I was going to be sleeping in for two nights. I took that as a chance to survey the surroundings and I got good vibes from the place. People were busy chatting and kids were playing in the streets, everyone knew everybody else and they were generally nice people. After the short trip we managed to get to the house. It was small but cozy and had everything I needed to make it through my stay. There I sat down and tried to get to know the kids a bit more. The formal talk didn’t work and they both shied away (Evidence of the language barrier). Kuya Willy sensed that I was getting bored so he told Jasper to give me a wider(?) tour of the place. Walking around the area I was a bit apprehensive because I heard that there were frats and gangs in some areas and I did not want to get tangled up with them but I walked on. I got into somewhat of a confrontation with some punk teens playing with their skateboard but I think that was just me being easily intimidated (no shit, you little bitch), which I just realized now, but back then it left a bitter taste in my mouth. After that encounter, Jasper brought me to the lugawan and we sat a bit. I asked the man selling lugaw how much it was and he offered me a free bowl. It wasn’t a big deal but it felt really good to get something out of another person’s kindness (Already delicious lugaw is made even more delicious when it is given to you for free). It didn’t end there right after I finished my bowl of lugaw, my classmate’s ate bought me betamax. It was the first time I tried it outside of dinuguan and it was awesome! (Tasted like tofu) After that snack we went back home and had dinner. It was simple tinola but it was good (It was god damn delicious). I was careful not to eat too much because I was afraid I’d leave them with none but I managed to eat my fill anyway with enough to spare for the dog. Then we sat to watch the news and had a little light conversation. When the time came to go to bed, they set up the only fan in the house on the bed they set up for me. It was really touched by this and I found getting to sleep really easy (I did feel pretty bad I took their fan though). That is how I spent my first day.

            The second day of immersion Jasper and I met up with my classmates and we decided to walk all the way to the dumpsite and do some sightseeing. It was a long walk and when we got there we were covered in mud and our feet were wet with garbage water. One of my classmates, Dags, even got maggots on his slippers. It was gross but according to the Kuya Willie it’s a lot better that how it used to be. We gladly left the dump and went back to bathe and rest up. After a few kwentos and sticks of isaw later, we agreed to spend our last night singing at Miso’s crib (Videoke style). The night was killer and everyone enjoyed but with it I was reminded that we were leaving the next day. I dreaded the next day since I already got attached to my foster family and the community. I realized how much I was going to miss the sounds of people playing basketball in the street and the amazing variety of food available. I was going to miss playing chess with Jasper and talking to him about everyday things. It’s funny to think how much I connected within such a short span of time but it happened (I hate your sentence construction, 3rd year Rap). The next day when we left, some of us where in tears, I was among them (Not that many tears). Jasper cried too and I gave him something to cheer him up and remember me by. It was one of the few occasions where I gave and it hurt since I gave away my favorite keychain. I doubt I’ll be able to get another one of those anytime soon since they were limited edition (That keychain was so cool...I'm still glad I gave it away though). Emotions won me over that day. We left Payatas as different people, we were all changed. Even though our stay was too short, the lives that affected us and the lessons we learned will never be forgotten.

End.

I didn't get to mention the awesome deep friend chicken heads I tried for the first time. So awesome. Chewy. Juicy. Chickeny. It's chicken deliciousness presented in a neat little chicken head sized mouthful. I had chicken heads for the second time on the exposure trip. Barbecue this time. My god. The deliciousness. I seem to be the only one who enjoyed them as much though... More for me then. :D

On a semi-sidenote, I mentioned before the story of the that Atenean who's essay was criticized because he or she said that he or she was glad that she was not poor. I also said that I would discuss that further. But, since I don't wanna go at it all uninformed (not actually reading the essay), I'll leave that for some other time...again.

Now. Enjoy these photos of the exposure trip in panorama, a camera setting which I love using despite the occasional deforming of people.

Yes, I see my knuckle.

Albert and Ren not gaying it up yet.

Mariel's elbow has disappeared.