Moment Of Silence

Sometimes, it's hard to be silent and be still.

Contemplating Priesthood

I am contemplating priesthood. But, apparently, God isn't giving me any easy answers.

Some people tell me that such decisions on what vocation to choose actually happen during those rare instances of blinding self-awareness, those moments akin to Saint Paul's "Road To Damascus" conversion.

To be honest, I haven't had any of those experiences. Almost every decision I've made in the past was always laboriously slow and paradoxically haphazard and impulsive.

But, setting that aside, I think I already have some indicators as to where I could end up ten years from now. First, as of the moment, I still don't feel the need to have a significant other. I don't know if it's because I'm a late bloomer or I'm in a premature stage of andropause but marriage is slowly but definitely becoming an option quite alien to me.

I also don't mind not being a father. Sure, I do feel sad sometimes considering the notion but not fathering a child is also slowly becoming a welcoming idea.

To sum it up, I think I already have the necessary mindset to really pursue priesthood in the future. The thought of no marriage or fatherhood doesn't bother me at all and I think that a willingness to serve can be taught and further developed in the seminary.

But that's the problem right there. That's what I feel right now. But what about after five years? Or ten? Would I feel the same way? Surely, such a decision to pursue priesthood remains a leap of faith and a steadfast allegiance to the vocation despite the uncertainties of human nature.

Hmmm...

Maybe, having said this, it's better to ponder and discern for a while. Better check back on this post after several years. As of the moment, there's no rush.

Remembering PMT

Let's talk about PMT: Preparatory Military Training. This part of my high school experience had been bugging me for awhile now since there's a lot I have to share about this certain area of my life. This itch was further compounded by a chance encounter with Raj Basa last December 25, an encounter which had lead me to wonder what my other fellow ex-officers are thinking about regarding their PMT days.

Perhaps, I should be the one to make the first move, that's why I'm sharing this now.

First, a little background. I'm Paolo Bataller, Battalion Commander of my batch, Cadet Lieutenant Colonel. I guess my ascent to power and (presumably notoriety) was effected by a stroke of luck. I was the last of a series of COCC (Cadet Officer Candidacy Course? These acronyms are easy to forget) leaders, with the first few candidates bowing out of the program. By the start of my senior year in high school, I was the de facto candidate for Battalion Commander, not because of my imposing stature ( I'm a short dude, you know) but probably because I was among the few who took COCC seriously (ex: I memorized totally the material given to us, mastered the drills as best as I could, and internalized everything that our officer-mentors told).

But hubris aside, I guess the best word that encapsulates my PMT experience is this: angst. Amidst the companionship, the camaraderie, the fun that ironically flowed from our shared punishments, there was always this unflinching air of desperation. And even five years after, I'm still left shaking my head, begging the question: Why did we have to go through all that (crap)?

Simply put, it was a difficult time. Imagine doing something without any support from the outside whatsoever. That's what being an officer was about then. I don't know about the rest of corps but I almost became an "emo" at that time, complete with intense periods of abandonment and silent anger directed against the powers-that-be.

The issue behind this was that the school administration didn't want PMT anymore and we were supposed to be the last batch. Although winning the administrator's support was always first in our agenda, our efforts were rendered futile in the long run. It didn't help that there was already widespread condemnation among the faculty over some questionable "PMT" practices (which, I believe, we've minimized or removed over time).

It also didn't help that it was hard to convince everyone that PMT must continue if the officers themselves weren't exactly a very convincing lot. I had to admit then that, despite our best intentions, we were a motley crew for a corps, with officers of regrettable academic records and dubious ethical standards (Try remembering someone who punished everyone with squat thrusts under the heat of the sun... On Fiesta day, mind you). Compound to that fact the realization that we didn't have convincing reasons why PMT should stay.

Basically, PMT was unpopular and this fact was hard for us who were part of the organization.

What aggravated the situation was that we had no competent commandant to start with (Pardon me, Sir Antonio, but you weren't a factor in my tenure as a PMT officer). If you had imagined what it would be like doing something without support, try imagining now being an orphan. That was what we were. There was no guiding light for the corps, no mentor to tell us what we ought to do and why, no reference person for protocol, drills, and SOPs, and certainly no big-shot PR man or consultant (like what they have now. Lucky guys). We were alone, on our own, relying only on small tidbits of information from former officers of years past and from the occasional wisdom of our colleagues.

But somehow we managed to pull through. Somehow, we managed to pull off a minimalist pass-in-review without any COCC cadets to herald the future, so to speak. And though this was a false triumph (PMT was still going away, anyway), still, I couldn't help but feel proud of what we had achieved considering the difficulties that we had to go through.

And in the end, that's all that matters, right?

Remembering Christmas

In line with advent, allow me to share something I wrote in my journal a long time ago (Yes, I did keep journals in college and, like I always say, I prefer calling these notebooks "journals" since "diaries" are for women. But I'm already getting away. Carry on). I wrote this journal entry last December 24, 2007 and is actually divided into two parts: the first part I wrote down before we went to the midnight Christmas mass and the second part was written after our Noche Buena.

The reason why I'm sharing this is because, ever so often, we miss out on the "real" reason why we're celebrating Christmas. Hence, we often feel that our Christmases, despite the presents and the festivities, are both hollow and lacking in substance. I do hope that this post will serve as a point of reflection for others, guiding them to the actual cause for celebration in this season of hope. Here goes:

First Part (Actual Entry)
It's almost Christmas and right now, I'm feeling numb. Lonely even. Not happy at all. Ambut uy. Wait. What else pa ba ang dapat buhatun? Let's see. Lit 33 report. Chapt 4,6,8 sa Thesis. Ok, Lord, help me. This is another boring Christmas. Is Christ aware of that? I don't feel renewed kay I didn't make an effort to renew myself. Sa New Year's Eve na lang. Really, I feel so old na (a la Kris Aquino).

Second Part (Actual Entry)
Damn! How could I have forgotten! Ginasulat naku ni kay para kung muabot ang Christmas next year puhon, kung feeling napud naku na empty ang Christmas, pwede naku basahun ang part sa akong journal nani ug ma-remind ko what exactly am I celebrating about this Christmas. Na-struck man gud ko sa sermon kaganiha sa pari. According to one father of the church, St. Iraneus ba to?, Christmas is a celebration of the "marvelous exchange", a phenomenon he beautifully stated in these words: That the Son of God became the Son of Man so that the sons of man can become sons of God. Beautiful. Bitaw noh? Christmas is never about being happy; it is about celebrating the incarnation of God. That's what it's all about. It is not about family reunions, peace, unity, generosity, charity, although there are, shall we say, "perks" of Christmas. Sa Christmas, we get to reminisce, reflect, and remember how the greatest story ever started. Gi-ingon pud sa Pari na ang mga mangaroling daw, naay purpose: they are supposed to be carrolling to tell people the Greatest Story ever. It was never about telling people, singing pala, crappy songs and collecting change. It's about telling people that Christ did come. To digress lang gamay, ganahan kaayo ko katung last line sa Cinderella, featuring Drew Barrymore, it says: ambut kung makuha naku exactly-"Yes, they did live happily ever after. But what's more important is that they lived." Bongga. I like that line. What's more important daw is that the story is true. Ok, let's go back. According to the priest, the problem with Christmas is that it has become too commercialized that we already start forgetting Christ, the reason for the celebration. In place, we have Christmas decorations and Santa Claus, all of this stuff that distract us from truly celebrating it. Song lyrics: "Bahala na kung wala man akong syota. Bahala na kung wala namang ham. Bahala na kung malayo ang pamilya. Basta't nandito si Kristo, pasko ko'y kumpleto na." Most of the time, we endorse Christmas values (like being with family, unity, peace, generosity) but no longer Christ. On hindsight, that's what made GMA's short film festival outputs so un-appealing: wala ang diwa ng pasko. Wala si Kristo. And it felt like, every time I watched one of those films, I felt cheated because I was being "commercialized", being swayed to think that the essence of Christmas need not include Jesus Christ. Christian values are enough. Hay naku. Ok, that's it.

Ok, that's it for this post too. Merry Christmas!

Trash Talk

One of the easiest ways for someone to lose my respect is for them to throw their trash haphazardly.

That happened while I was in college. I was with my thesis team mates and we were on our way home from Caraga after a one-day interview marathon with the Mandayas. I was with Faith, Pam, and Faith's father, the top honcho of NTC Region XI. Faith's father was driving the car and we were easing away from Mati, rolling by the cliff roads heading west.

Earlier on, I was immensely awed that a top government official was with us in the trip and was actually escorting us to and from the place of our thesis research. It was akin to being with the President of the Philippines, for instance, or being in the presence of a highly distinguished VIP (Photo shoot!).

But that initial impression was erased when Faith's father rolled down his window and threw a plastic cellophane into the air. Never mind that the car had enough compartments to hold the trash. Never mind that he could have kept that trash to be thrown later. Never mind that nobody would be around to pick up the trash for him. After that, I didn't look at her father the same way.

How come I'm bringing up this seemingly small matter? Well, that's because, while I was on my way home this morning (after attending Misa De Gallo), a fellow passenger in the tricycle I was riding on also did the same thing. After the lady had finished eating her kutsinta, she threw her trash into the air.

Just like that. An act so simple, yet so blatantly irresponsible and disrespectful.

Someone might tell me not to sweat the small stuff. But this "small stuff", this indiscriminate disposal of one's trash, actually speaks a lot about one person's character. For me, this "minor" misconduct implies a great deal about a person's level of self-discipline and impulse control (or lack thereof).

That's because throwing one's trash properly is as basic as you can get. Even in elementary, we are already taught that we should dispose our trash in the least harmful way possible. Sad to say, only a few people actually live by this lesson and if one cannot be entrusted with learning the small things in life, why should they be entrusted with the bigger things, lessons which already carry with them the weight of bigger responsibilities?

In addition, there is simply no excuse for such a behavior. I know of people who do bring around their trash until they find a trash receptacle and, now, I am beginning to wonder why most people can't do the same.

Throwing your trash anywhere at anytime isn't cool, dude. It simply means you're "burara" and if you're looking for respect, you won't be getting it from me.

You Tell Me

You tell me: Was I too harsh?

Two hours ago, I was grabbing something to munch at a burger joint. I was waiting for my order along with some customers.

Then, out of the shadows, three rambunctious kids approached the joint. There were from the neighborhood, kids who you would usually see strolling around the streets looking for spare change. They went straight to the woman sitting next to me and - with puppy dog eyes - begged for a peso. The woman gave one boy her drink.

Once I got my order, I proceeded to catch my ride. Another boy from the same group approached me, stretched out his hand, wore those puppy dog eyes again, and begged for one burger.

I immediately said to him, sternly, "Dili, kay manganad ka" (Rough translation: "No, because you will start to expect.")

Now, can you please tell me: was I too harsh?

A Weird Christmas Memory

Let me tell you something about what happened to me in high school. It's a pretty weird memory actually but it's worth writing down for posterity.

I actually remembered this while I was on my way home, when I was thinking about Christmases past. Like a brilliant flash of light, the memory flashed before my eyes and I was left grinning to myself afterwards.

It was after our class Christmas party. I think I was in third year then (or was it second year?). Earlier, there were already rumors about a haunted house somewhere in Champaca Street in Juna subdivision. Most of my classmates had already gone to visit the house, usually for sheer curiosity and usually in groups (which is a peculiar arrangement, come to think of it: daring yourself to go to a spooky place isn't as scary when you have companions in tow but it's certainly more fun).

Anyway, Cynthia Barriga and I had decided to come visit the place. I didn't know where the idea really came from (I guess it came from Cynthia) but, after the party, we were already off to Champaca street. After the tricycle driver dropped us off near the house (he rolled his eyes, apparently sensing that we were up to no good), we were on our own.

Well, not quite. You see, there were also a group of teenagers standing by near the entrance of the house (I think they also had the same idea). So Cynthia and I went inside the house and, lo and behold, she pulled out a rosary and started praying. What had been a sightseeing trip (at least for me) had turned to an amateur exorcism ritual. We ended up praying the whole rosary quickly then exited the building into the night.

Was it scary? Of course it was. The house was definitely abandoned and was very dark inside. I had a vivid imagination back then so all throughout the rosary, I kept "seeing" images popping out everywhere I looked. I remember swearing quietly back then, "What the hell where we thinking?" And until now, I still don't know the answer.

Maybe, Cynthia has another perspective about how things happened but this is my account. Haay... and nostalgia creeps in again.

Note: By the way, this post wasn't meant to be insightful.

Being A More Conscious Consumer

There was a time when my sister and I were deliberating where to buy our fast food before going off to the cinemas. The choice was either Jollibee or McDonalds. We ended up with Jollibee in the end. Sure, McDonalds had the better-tasting "fries", as what some people would purport, but the criterion behind the decision was where our money would end up.

If we had chosen McDonalds, a portion of our money would go to paying the salaries of the employees, the cost of the food, venue, and packaging and - of course - the wallet of the franchisee. But a portion of it would also go out of the country, as part of the franchise fee to be paid to the American corporation itself. Contrast this to buying at Jollibee's where the money we would be splurging for some highly unhealthy food would just end up somewhere in Davao and Manila only.

If we had been more strict about our criterion, we would have also considered the presumed "regionality" of the establishment owner. Stretching the idea "Tangkilikin Ang Sariling Atin" further, we would have been better off helping the local Davao economy by patronizing a business wholly owned by a dabawenyo. If this is the case, at least most of the money we would spend would end up somewhere here in Davao.

Stretching the above-mentioned idea even further, I also remember the time when my family was discussing where to eat out. The official choices were either Penong's or Lisa's. In the end, we ended up eating at Lisa's (only because Penong's was always full of customers). I remember remarking to my mother then that, all things being equal, we should choose to patronize the smaller business, which - in this case - was Lisa's. In this small way, we could best support those thriving businesses who aren't as popular but are nevertheless offering good service.

This is also probably why, if given the choice between a karinderya which offers good food and a franchise known for offering good food also, I would always go with the former. That's because the money would just end in the same place ("here") and not fly somewhere else, a fact that - like what every economist would tell you - is a welcome instance for the local economy.

In the end, I'm not saying that this is the best way to go about purchasing stuff. Sure, it's always good to patronize your own products but some products are definitely better when they are imported from outside. What I'm only trying to say is, at least, we should consider in our buying decisions the economic factor implied in the examples above: that is, every time we make a decision to buy, we should be aware of where the money we will be spending is going and we should allow this awareness to lead us to the "right" choice.

Winning Our Salvation

How exactly did Jesus Christ win our salvation? That's the question that is bothering me at the moment (I think that's either because it's almost Christmas or I've just read Betty Eadie's Embraced By The Light).

In catechism, I was taught that Christ saved us by coming down from Heaven and dying on the cross. He saved us by becoming the perfect sacrifice for the atonement of our sins. His death redeemed us from eternal punishment.

To be honest, I really don't get this whole arrangement. For instance, why did Jesus had to come down? Why was this the only way to win our salvation? And what exactly were we saved from (True,we might have been spared from eternal damnation, like what my CLE teacher said, but we were not saved from the human tendencies that make us sin. Bummer.)?

But perhaps, there's another way at looking at things and this involves looking at Jesus Christ less as a scapegoat and more like the perfect model of God's love. I know there's nothing new about what I just said but, in a period where people place more importance and emphasis to the act of sacrifice rather than to the man who made it, I believe it's urgent to revisit this idea once more.

Going back, Christ died to save us from our sins. But when exactly did he save us? Was it at his moment of death or was it when he came down to the world to face a life of mortality, suffering, and human frailty? For me, I would go with the latter. Debunking the perceived significance of the cross in salvation history, I believe Christ had already saved us when he decided to be born, when he decided to be a finite being. Christ had indeed "died" to save us from our sins but this was when he assumed life as a mortal and not when he was uttering his last words in Calvary.

Following this up, if the act of "saving" was not made at the cross but at the moment of coming down to the world, what did Jesus Christ save us from then? Well, I believe he saved us by living a life of love, by serving as the perfect example from which we can pattern our lives. In human history, it is impossible to not take notice that it was Jesus Christ who pioneered the centrality of love in human affairs.

To conclude this post, what do we make of the cross now? What do we make of his death? Rather than presupposing it was an unfortunate accident, I believe Christ's death was a necessary consequence, the inevitable byproduct of introducing a radically new concept of living, a concept borne on the premise that love should be the core of our humanity.

To sum it up, Christ had to "die" - he had to come down - to show us the way how to live. And in doing so, he was not spared the usual treatment we accord to society's radicals: he was persecuted and killed.

Right now, I'm still ruminating about what I just wrote here. But maybe, with some guidance from mentors, I can eventually clarify my thoughts more clearly and express them more eloquently. But right now, I think this is it. Advance Merry Christmas everybody and God be with you.

I Love You Woman

I found the passage below from a book I found in college, titled "Human Sexuality" by Chris Van Oosterhout and David Graham. This passage was part of an article about a contest between three ad agencies. The contest was about who could think of the best way to market "Man" to women. If I remember right, one agency marketed Man as a convenient tool to do the things women don't want to do ( "Any man will do anything to see a naked woman". I think that was the slogan.) I forgot what the second agency did (Utterly forgettable).

But the third agency made use of a love letter. Right away, I wrote its contents in my filler notebook then, saving it for posterity. Now, I'm going to put it in my blog. Hope you enjoy it. Here goes:

Woman,

I know you sometimes have doubts about me. About my feelings for you. I know you sometimes think the very qualities that make me a man, make me a pig. I'm not soft and sensitive like you. I'm self-absorbed. I'm callous. I'm a slob. I'm afraid to cry. I forget what I promised. I act like a child. I flirt when I shouldn't. I take you for granted. So I thought I should tell you my feelings so you'd know why I love you and that might remind you why you love me. We are two halves of an amazing creature. I love how we fit together so perfectly despite our very different proportions and angles. I love the feeling of your small, delicate hand in my big clumsy paw. I love the way you know just when I need a hug. I love how you forgive me. I love how you can coax out the small boy hiding behind my macho exterior. I love how you make me feel strong and protective. I love being your best friend. I love being your opposite. I love how you make me a better human being. I love you woman. I love being your other half.

Man.

Job Hunt

Now that I'm about to be two months old in my new company, I thought it's high time to share a bit of info about my first job hunt.

Last year, I had it easy. By early March 2008, I already knew where I was going: Manila. I already had in hand a job offer from a consultancy firm and, unlike the rest of my batch mates, I was simply cruising along, waiting for my plane ride out of town.

This time around, things weren't that easy. I arrived in Davao City early June this year, with no job prospect and no idea about what the job market was in my own city. Fortunately, I was overconfident at that time, thinking that any person who had worked in Manila for over a year could easily land a job amidst the throng of desperate job hunters.

But I was wrong. One month stretched to two, then to three, then to four. I guess part of the blame about why it took me so long was my pacing. For a given day, I only spent about an average of three hours actually looking for a job, and the rest was spent blogging, reading, networking, and checking what's new in the internet.

But despite my inefficiencies, my job hunt was also lengthened by one simple fact: a job hunt is also a waiting game. And so, there were weeks when I didn't do anything but wait. Wait for that call. Wait for that email. Wait for something to happen. Wait for the right opportunity. Wait for some divine intervention.

It was extremely frustrating at best. The power to be hired is not with me after all, but with the person sitting across me with the pen and my resume. And sometimes, that person isn't really into me or is simply whiling away the time, with no intention of considering me at all.

Nevertheless, despite those times when I felt that my self-esteem was crumbling, despite those days when I thought nothing was going right, I can still say I am grateful that I had those four months.

Why? Well, because, just like everything in life, my first job hunt helped build my character even more. I learned to be more humble, to be more thankful about the blessings I have received, and to be more patient and considerate.

My parents had advised me earlier (more like "forewarned") that job hunting in Davao City is an especially lengthy process since HR departments around here aren't exactly fretting over how fast they can pump up personnel. Looking back at my experience, they were right after all but, still, I'm happy that all of that "stuff" happened to me.

Maybe, in the future, I can write more about those "stuff". But right now, I have to stop writing. I have a job tomorrow and, come morning, I'll be stressed all over again. Peace out.

Text Messages 13

A reflection in life:
1.) Sometimes, God breaks our spirit to save our soul.
2.) Sometimes, He breaks our heart to make us whole.
Anonymous, May 13, 2009

Never ever grow tired of living your life.
Never ever quit on moving forward.
Never ever stop running.
For you never know how many persons are looking at you.
Anonymous, May 14, 2009

Today, think about how rich you are:
1.) Your family is priceless.
2.) Your time is gold.
3.) Your health is wealth.
4.) Your savior is the greatest treasure of all.
May you always remember these.
Anonymous, June 7, 2009

Ever wonder:
Why the sun lightens our hair but darkens our skin?
Why is it that to stop Windows XP, you have to click "Start"?
Why "abbreviation" is such a long word?
Why is it that doctors call what they do "practice"?
Why is the man who invests all your money called a "broker"?
Why is the time of day when traffic is slowest called "Rush Hour"?
Argyl Serrano, October 26, 2009

John Maxwell:
Take small steps of courage to prepare you for greater ones. Most of us want to grow quickly and be done with it. The reality is that genuine growth is slow, and to be successful, we should start with small things and do them every day.
Marvin Marba, November 11, 2009

I never resist temptation, because I have found that the things that are bad for me do not tempt me - George Bernard Shaw
Anonymous, November 12, 2009

Pedro: Pre, ni-graduate na jud ta no bisag 30 anyos nata.
Juan: Kalooy sa Diyos pre.
Pedro: Unya pre, graduate naman jud ta. Unsa man?...Mulahos pa ta'g high school?
Anonymous, November 12, 2009

What makes music important is thatit can be the voice of what we feel inside, especially when we are mute to the words of our hearts.
Ma. Anne Andicoy, November 13, 2009

No matter how plain and simple you are, there's that someone who will surely look at you as if you're the most perfect creature who ever existed...Malamang nanay mo yun.
Edwin Gutierrez, November 14, 2009

Three simple rules:
1.) If you do not go after what you want, you'll never have it.
2.) If you do not ask, the answer will always be "No".
3.) If you do not step forward, you'll always be in the same place.
Learn to take risks and see where your brave heart can take you.
Edwin Gutierrez, November 14, 2009

Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.
Mark Salazar, November 19, 2009

You deserve a day where worries don't get in the way of anything; a day where, even if some people are insensitive or unkind, you're not going to mind because the blessings you received are far better than the burdens you've experienced. Stay positive in life!
Argyl Serrano, November 23, 2009

Right leadership only grows from leading right. We will only become a powerful leader based on our ability to empower our people. Oftentimes, the difference between success and failure is leadership. Remember: leaders are examples not exempted. - John Maxwell
Marvin Marba, November 24, 2009

The reason why a seesaw was made for two persons is that when you go down, there will always be someone there to lift you up again.
Anonymous, December 4, 2009

Why does something have to be so hard sometimes?
Maybe because if everything was easy, we won't know if anything is worth it.
Edwin Gutierrez, December 5, 2009

If you keep doing what you've always done, you'll always get what you always got. So the logic is: When you want something you've never had, you've got to do something you've never done.
Anonymous, December 5, 2009

"If what's ahead scares you and what's behind hurts you. Just look above. He never fails to help you."
Edwin Gutierrez, December 6, 2009

Who?

We've all heard the news by now. But, amidst the politicking and the mockery, the question still remains:

Who is BRAVE enough to confront the Ampatuans?

Madonna Brava

I was in for a good treat last Saturday night.That's because I had gone to watch Madonna Brava at the VIP theater in Gaisano Mall.

Sir Don Pagusara, a college mentor, had told me about this production in a chance encounter with him in a jeep ride last week. He also told me that admission was free (Who could ever resist that?) and that the play, a "restructured" rendition of Brecht's Mother Courage, was written by him ("This I got to see", I remember myself thinking).

According to Sir Don, the play had already done its rounds in Manila and the Visayas. Now, it was being done in home turf, in Davao City, as part of a weekend-long series of activities organized by the National Commission for Culture and the Arts. Featuring veteran actress Mrs. Shamaine Centenera-Buencamino as Madonna Brava, the play tells the story of a mother and her children, struggling to stay alive in the midst of the violence and conflict plaguing Mindanao.

I arrived early for the 7:30 PM show but the play did not start until well after 8:00 PM (The floor crew had to wait for the special guests to arrive who were, as usual, "fashionably" late).

But the wait was worth it. Heavily inundated with political themes (a necessary prerequisite in probably all of Sir Don's works), the play featured a strong cast, with superb acting from all the members, and a good musical score.

For instance, I was particularly impressed at how the actors delivered their lines. Foregoing the safer method of pre-recording the script, the actors made do with live acting, liberally inserting ad libs and changing dialogues as deemed fit. The dialogues also involved a lot of code-switching (although I cannot verify if Sir Don had purposefully done so in his screenplay) with actors delivering Tagalog lines, interspersed with Bisaya (and other dialects I don't know about).

I'm not really a critic so I won't delve into the other nitty-gritty details. Rest assured, I enjoyed the show. And other than that, the play was indeed an eye-opener for me, exposing perspectives which I would have simply glossed over back then.

I hope the producers are thinking of turning this play into a movie. That's a long shot, maybe, but this play ought to be kept for posterity.

Collateral

A short story (Copied from Dagmay.kom.ph)

The unpaved, dusty dirt road seemed to stretch on forever. We were on our way to Pangutusan to visit the farm because Uncle Jeffrey was eager enough to test his brand-new CRV on rough terrain. So there we were, on a farm road bordered by jungles of trees and corn stalks, heading to nowhere. I listened while Lola, Aunt Len, and Uncle Jeffrey chatted the ride away.

Even back in the poblacion, I was already reluctant to go but Uncle Jeffrey persuaded me to. He told me that I should visit Lola’s farm more often because we, her grandchildren, would be inheriting it later on. Inheriting the farm interested me so I went along.

“It has been such a long time,” grinned Lola, gazing out the window. She had not visited the farm for about a year.

“Have you heard anything about Nong Felipe, Ma? The harvest season was supposed to be last month,” asked Uncle Jeffrey.

“Hay, naku. Nong Felipe stole our share again. I bet he already sold all the durian by now. And the bananas too!” my Aunt Len replied.

“It is my fault, actually. I should have visited more often just to let them know I am still the owner, that they cannot get away with anything just yet. But I do not have any means of transport. Your brother’s tricycle is still broken,” Lola responded resentfully.

“Don’t be hard on yourself, Ma,” said Aunt Len, “Even if you had been visiting regularly, Nong Felipe would just say it was a bad harvest and he still won’t be giving you anything.”

After what seemed like a very long time, we finally stopped at a shabby, nipa house alongside the road. Its windows were tattered and its walls had holes. It seemed abandoned and forlorn, save for a dog in the yard who kept barking at us.

Uncle Jeffrey sounded the horn several times before all of us disembarked. And when we did, a short, thin man emerged from the house’s front door. When he stepped out into the light, I could see he had a very aged face, replete with wrinkles, eye bags, creases and a head of white hair. He was a haggard, worn man and it showed.

So, this must be the famous Nong Felipe.

“Good morning, Felipe. We just came to get our share,” greeted Lola. “Perhaps, you still have something to give us?”

Nong Felipe, who was apparently feeling discomfort, blindly scratched his neck. “Ay, manang. I am really sorry. The weather had been bad recently. A lot of the fruits were ruined.”

Uncle and Aunt looked at each other with smirks across their faces.

“But perhaps I could interest you with coconuts. There are a number of trees at the backyard. Maybe, I can climb them up for you,” offered Nong Felipe with a pathetic smile. He tried to be cheerful but appeared miserable instead.

“Well, I think that would be great,” Lola said and all of us proceeded to the back of the house to watch Nong Felipe climb the trees.

It turned out we had to walk a considerable distance to the “backyard”. I had to assist Lola because her arthritic knees started hurting again. In no time, both of us were way behind.

“So, what do you think of the farm, hijo? Beautiful, isn’t it?” Lola was looking around, admiring the wild beauty of her farm. “You know, my father, your great-grandfather I mean, and Felipe’s father were friends since way back then. I still remember when I used to believe that Felipe was one of my brothers. He was my baby brother for quite some time. He and his father used to visit us so often; I started believing they were part of our extended family.

Lola giggled at the memories and like many old people, she did not hesitate in sharing some more. The farm was a wilderness then but my great-lolo, Mang Gardo, and Felipe’s father, Don Berni, both fresh immigrants from Samar, managed to take hold of it by asking the local tribesmen for some land. The tribe gave them this area. In no time, they cleared the land for planting and went on to buy new seeds.

Over time, they managed to acquire more land and slowly, they expanded their estate. The farm was as it was then, a haphazard collection of fruit trees, vegetable patches, and crop fields. But both Mang Gardo and Don Berni did not mind. What mattered was that it was theirs.

Lola and I managed to catch up just in time to see Nong Felipe climb the first coconut tree. Uncle Jeffrey and Aunt Len were sitting on some grass some distance away.

“Manang, maybe both of you should not come too close,” warned Nong Felipe, pointing to where Uncle and Aunt were clustered. “Why don’t you sit there beneath the shade?“

I sat near Aunt Len and she whispered, rather loudly, to me, “Mar, you know what? You should learn how to climb coconut trees and other farming skills. Look at your uncle. Your Lola sent him to the city at a very young age and he does not know anything about farming, let alone run a farm.”

“Of course, I do. All you need is land and some tenants to work the farm and that’s it”, intruded Uncle Jeffrey. “The trick there is to find someone trustworthy to manage the farm, someone unlike Felipe. After that, you visit your farm once in a while and collect the profits.”

I glanced at Nong Felipe, hanging precariously on a tree. I guessed he could not possibly eavesdrop on our conversation. I had to ask: “La, how did Nong Felipe become a tenant?”

Lola paused for awhile and started. “It was a long time ago, hijo. As I remember, Nong Berni had a very sickly wife. Then one time, his wife got sick and he had to send her to the regional hospital. It turned out the wife’s sickness needed a lot of money and so Don Berni asked your great-lolo for a loan.”

“And when Nong Berni could not pay it, he opted to become a tenant.”

“Of course not, silly. Your great-lolo did not agree to the loan. Instead, my father told Don Berni to give to him his share of their land in exchange for the treatment of the wife. Don Berni presumably did not know of anyone other than my father who could help. He accepted the offer, my father paid all expenses and the wife recovered shortly. After that, Mang Gardo invited Don Berni to be the chief caretaker of our family’s estate. This was the arrangement ever since I could remember.”

I prodded. “Why did Mang Gardo not agree to a loan? Why did he demand Don Berni’s land?”

Aunt Len answered, “You see, it was difficult back then. You cannot simply agree to a loan and not have collateral.”

I asked further, “What I mean is they were friends. Why couldn’t Mang Gardo just trust Don Berni with a loan and hope that Don Berni will repay the debt? Why did he have to take Don Berni’s land?”

This time, it was Uncle Jeffrey who replied. “That was exactly why Lolo gave Don Berni that offer, Mar. Because they were friends. In fact, Lolo risked the future of his family with that deal. He agreed to pay for the wife’s expenses at whatever cost. The deal nearly ruined your great-grandfather because the hospital bills were so high. But thankfully, Don Berni’s land was very fertile and had good harvests for the next four years.”

“But poor, old Don Berni”, Lola said. “He could not accept that he was landless. When he became a tenant, he worried about what would become of his children. As far as I knew, Don Berni was a very proud man. He could not imagine his children as tenants working all their lives for his friend. He tried to buy his land back but he could not. Of course, how could he? His only source of income, after he gave his land, was the pay he received from my father. So, come harvest time, it was rumored that he would climb all the fruit trees and get his share of the bounty.”

“That was how Don Berni cheated my lolo and that was also his undoing. He died under a coconut tree. Some of the other tenants said Don Berni climbed it for his usual mischief but ended losing his footing and falling instead. The fall broke his crown. After that, his children took over as chief caretakers. Unfortunately, his children learned all too well from their father”, said Aunt Len, whom I could tell, from her raised voice, that she was fuming with anger. “They steal the harvest as if they still own the land.”

Our talk abruptly ended because of a loud thud. A coconut just fell to the ground.

I was amazed. Not because we filled almost three sacks with coconuts, but because Nong Felipe managed to climb a dozen trees. What a sight: a very old man with scrawny legs and arms, climbing a tree. I could see even Uncle Jeffrey was surprised.

Finally, Nong Felipe, panting, sheathed his bolo and stood in front of lola. “Would that be enough, Manang?”

Aunt Len replied, “Oh yes. This would be enough. But could you get that last piece of coconut on that tree over there? ” She pointed to a tree. “I still see a coconut or two.”

Nong Felipe hesitated for a moment, looked at Aunt Len squarely in the eye, but proceeded to climb the tree. With extreme difficulty, he hauled himself upward. His arms and legs, tense and wiry, were testament to his effort. When he had reached the top, he unsheathed his bolo and swung it.

It missed the coconut. The coconut Aunt Len pointed to was perched too high above, too high for a man like Nong Felipe. He swung his bolo again and again but he could not reach it. Finally, with sweat all over his body and his limbs shaking uncontrollably, a defeated Nong Felipe climbed down from the tree, frustration etched over his face.

The walk back to the road was more difficult. The noon sun was high above us and the air was getting hot. All three of us men were each carrying a sack of coconuts. Once again, I found myself trailing behind with Uncle Jeffrey and Nong Felipe.

“You new here, boy?” Nong Felipe grunted. Beneath the weight I carried, I could only muster a nod.

“That figures. You’re a new face here. Must be one of your Lola’s grandsons, right?”

I did not answer and Nong Felipe interpreted my silence as a yes.

He went on. “What is good about living in the farm is that you get accustomed to the silence. Even the smallest whisper can be heard from afar.”

So, he heard our conversation. I lowered my head in embarrassment.

“You believe what you want to believe, boy. It doesn’t matter anymore.” With that, Nong Felipe walked faster, leaving me behind.

When we went back to the car, Nong Felipe thanked us for coming to visit and we thanked him for the coconuts. Lola chided him about that last climb and Nong Felipe told her he was simply too old. Then we were on our way. Nong Felipe stood in the middle of the road to wave us goodbye as we sped and left him there.

Back in the car, Aunt Len triumphantly exclaimed, “Well, I told you he would be saying those things again. Bad harvest. Bad weather. The man never runs out of excuses.”

“At least, we have a sack of coconuts. I wonder how much this would sell. You should know these things, Mar. You will be running the farm soon,” said Uncle Jeffrey.

But I did not answer him because I was looking back. Staring back at Nong Felipe still in the middle of the road, dust all over him. Staring back at a man who seemed to have lost something.

Inheriting the farm did not interest me anymore.

This story was a product of my first visit to Mama's farm in Pangutusan. She had to talk to her tenant since apparently, he was not doing a good job cultivating and maintaining the land. I later fashioned this story based on the hypothetical situation that perhaps we, the owners, were the bad guys.

Solved: Case Of The Vanishing 350 Pesos

Finally, I know what happened to my money.

For the last two months, I was confused every time I looked at my savings account online. Apparently, P350 was being deducted every month from my account. Scrutinizing my account online, the only clue I had about this unwarranted debit was its label; it was labeled "elink".

My initial assumption was that my bank was screwing me up secretly. Or perhaps, the "elink" debit was payment for services rendered for enrolling my savings account online. Still, I wasn't satisfied because as far as I know, this was the first time I experienced this and I've had my account for nearly a year already.

The mystery was finally solved when some mail came. In the mail was a letter from Greenpeace thanking me for my "donation". After reading through it, it finally dawned on me that I had registered myself months before as a Greenpeace donor.

How it all happened, I finally remembered. Several months back, I was in NCCC Mall back then, trying to register myself as a "Boto Mo, I-Patrol" volunteer. There was a Greenpeace booth beside the atrium and, lo and behold, I saw Ate Therese Pardillo, a former classmate, manning the booth. After some small talk, I found myself signing up for this donor program of theirs.

I remember confidently signing up for their program because I knew I had no money in the account number I gave them. But that apparently changed when I got my back pay and, for the next two months, I was an unconscious donor for an organization I barely even knew.

Anyway, what's done is done. At least, I know now where part of my money is going. I just hope that they put that "donation", no matter how small and insignificant, into good use.

Now, I don't intend to stop donating now that I know. But then again, I do hope that I am presented with the option to stop donating when I feel that I'm already financially depressed (On second thought, withdrawing everything from that account is probably a better idea).

Ninong Paolo

Christmas is near again.

Right now, I'm already thinking about what to give to my godchildren. What toys should I give them? Or should it be clothes? Or maybe, I should settle with food? Will cash do?

For me, deciding what to give to my godchildren is a nerve-wracking activity. That's because I do not have much first-hand experience to begin with. For instance, when I was young, I can count with just one hand the number of times my godparents gave me gifts (2 times).

To digress, I guess most of my godparents had the wrong idea that their obligations ended right after the baptismal ceremony. In fact, that shouldn't be the case. Godparents should always be there to help the parents mentor and guide the child. Also, we must never forget that godparents are also there to give their godchildren presents every Christmas (that's one thing we must never forget!).

Looking back, the most memorable gift I've ever received from a god parent was a Bible, elegantly covered with cloth. My Ninong Cho gave it to me when I was still a teenager. Never mind that it was a Protestant bible and had some books missing (Ninong Cho is a Baptist pastor). But it was probably the most meaningful gift ever, an unlikely but surprisingly useful gift.

Lest you have the idea that I'm handing away Bibles this Christmas, I'm not. My godchildren are still cute little children. There's Jilleen, the pretty daughter of my Uncle Boy and Aunt Bess. There's Ayon, the stubborn but adorable son of my Aunt Bing and Uncle Bibong. There's Junjun, the cute newborn of my Uncle Jun and Aunt Inday. And there's the angelic child of Ate Weng and Kuya Jang-jang named Vincent, the god child I never knew (I wasn't at the baptism that's why I completely forgot that I was his godfather).

Maybe, I would fare better if I ask other people for ideas. Or should I do the thinking on my own? Either way, I'm taking this gift-giving as serious business. So if you see a 22-year old guy carefully scrutinizing wares in the toys department in the coming weeks, chances are, that would be me. Peace out.

Reunion

It was a long time coming. But I was pretty glad we all pulled it off.

You see, last November 7-8, I finally got to meet in person the familiar faces of my classmates in 1R/S/S1/S2, my first year college class. There was Irish, Ate Mahani, Novie, Chona, Joycee, "Brother" Jose, Mark, Joel, and Jade, our honorary member. The gathering was in Dumoy Garden Resort and was supposed to have been a send-off party for Ate Mahani (who was bound for the US to become Mrs. Lindquist, the Malaysian/Filipino/American wife of Kuya Bruce).

Looking back, I guess the ball started rolling when I posted and tagged everyone on a Facebook note, raising the idea for a class reunion later this year. Imagine my relief when I found out that everyone was okay with that proposal (I was actually bracing myself for a thousand excuses from my former classmates. E.G. "busy", "kapuy", "no wawartz", "out-of-town" etc.).

Then, someone (I think it was Novie or Chona? Can't remember.) suggested we do it on the November 7th before Ate Mahani left for the country. So that's what we did.

What happened next was a showcase of brilliant planning. Okay, not quite, but I was still amazed at how everything went well despite some lapses in coordination. A lot of us promised to go but (as is often the case) only a handful came up. Some, like Emir, Nat-nat, Cleo, and Chuckie, had familial obligations to attend to and so weren't available. Others like Go and Donna were not in Davao City to begin with. Still others like Karlo and Jarrold were busy with work. But that was all right; the rule was to simply enjoy the presence of those who were actually around (and if we had been a bigger group, accommodating everyone in the small, reserved room would have been a more complicated problem).

In addition, the event was also not safe from late changes in plans. Ate Mah and the girls had to hop from one resort to another, looking for vacant accommodations. As for the food, with regard to Pinoy standards during outings, we were all going on a diet; there were no pots or any extravagant catering, just last-minute purchases from the local karinderya, some junk foods bought from the grocery, and relief goods brought by those who came later in the evening.

As to what happened during the entire overnight stay in Dumoy, we were basically just trying to catch up with each other's lives and reminiscing the good ol' days. Beforehand, Chona had suggested that I do a program to keep things in order but it was unnecessary in the end (Yes, Chona, I'll still do a program for the actual reunion. No problem on that but I do need help from someone with HR experience. Hehe.).

That night, one of the things I realized was how special these people were to me. These were the people who had been with me during that special first year in college and, though we had been apart for quite some time now, those bonds formed then can never go away.

I also realized how blessed I was to meet such a diverse cast of people, each from a different background. All night, I was regaled with a lot of stories: "Bro" and his exorcisms, his formation in the rural countryside, and the religious life. Joel and his trips to Cotabato, Red Cross kidnappings, and motherhood counseling with Ate Mahani. Mark and his exploits in DTI. Irish and her NGO experience with the natives of Malita. Novie and her stories about her mother, Malita, and the bananas of Santo Tomas. Chona and the HR work life of PWC. Joycee and her insistent interrogations with some key males in the group. Ate Mahani and her plans for the US. Jade and her beauty secrets and her prized glittering headband.

All in all, it was a good night, a night I thoroughly enjoyed. Before we all bade goodbye to each other one more time, we agreed that the actual reunion was to push through this December. Let's see what happens then (I hope more of us can come).

Even now, I'm already excited. Cheers to 1R/S/S1/S2!

Still Alive

Haaay. Finally, the hiatus has come to an end. Now, it's time to explain myself.

Kuya Kim, a cousin of mine, mentioned to me earlier tonight that he found out this blog several weeks earlier (To digress, we were attending the first birthday party of Kyrstine, the adorable little angel of another cousin of mine, Kuya Aji, and his wife, Ate Gladys). That brief mention reminded me that I had an online life to attend to and I had a blog that needed fresh content.

For those who are wondering what has happened to me since September, here's the news. First, I got busy, or more specifically, I finally landed a job after four months of soul searching and job hunting. I'm now a sleep-deprived, slightly harried employee for a commercial bank somewhere in the outskirts of Lanang. That alone explains why I haven't been online for so long and why my writing career - if ever there was one - has halted to a stop. Simply put, I don't have the time nowadays, nor the energy, to use on more leisurely and lofty pursuits.

I am certain however that somewhere in the near future, I can strike a balance between work and play. But right now, I'm so busy absorbing the aspects of my work, I've become a model workaholic: early to work, no time to play, that's my life now, what more can I say?

What about my plan for pursuing further studies? Well, that has been put on hold too. Now is simply not the time to pursue those things especially when someone's a probationary. But I am still interested and I intend to go back to school real soon.

What about networking? For that, I'm taking it real slow. I've been learning some new stuff every now and then and I have some plans which I hope I can pull off later this month.

In the end, I think the only casualties of my current busy status quo are the social networking sites and online tools of my not-too-distant past. I miss checking Facebook and Plurk every day. I also miss sifting through the hundreds of emails, newsletters, and spam mail in my four email accounts. I miss reading interesting stuff in the web.

Haay. Still, I can't go back to where I was then. My vacation's over. I just hope I can still update this blog every now and then.

Now, it's time to go. My brother can't wait to use the computer and I can already smell blood if I don't get off my seat this instant.

Text Messages 12

"You won't fully enjoy a swing unless you raise your feet from the ground. You won't fully enjoy a boat ride unless you remove the rope's knot from the river bank. Your dog won't fully enjoy his or her dog life unless you remove the chain on his or her neck. Never ever limit yourself when it comes to happiness, learn how to let go and move on. Life is beautiful. Live it! Like you mean it..."
Argyl Serrano, October 7, 2009

A lecturer explaining stress management to the audience, raised a glass of water and asked, "How heavy is this glass of water?" Answers called out ranged from 20 grams to 500 grams. The lecturer replied, "The absolute weight doesn't matter. It depends on how long you try to hold it. If you carry your burdens all the time, sooner or later, the burden becomes increasingly heavy. You won't be able to carry on." Learn to forgive and forget and leave it all to God.
Argyl Serrano, October 7, 2009

Beat this logic:
The boyfriend and girlfriend were blaming each other for the unwanted pregnancy of the girl.
BF: You must take care of the baby. He'll be coming out from you so that's yours!
After a long moment of silence...
GF: So, if you put a coin into a vending machine and a coke comes out, does the coke belong to you or to the machine?
100% logical.
Argyl Serrano, October 7, 2009

A philosophy professor asked his students just one question for their final exam. The question was, "How are you going to make me believe that this chair in front of you is invisible?"
It took all of the students one hour to finish writing the answer except for one lazy student who only took 3 seconds. After that day, the results were posted. The lazy student got the highest score. Know what his answer is?
"What chair?"
Lessons don't complicate simple things in life.
Argyl Serrano, October 7, 2009

"A heart made of ice doesn't need someone who has flame throwers to melt the ice away but someone who patiently waits until the ice melts by itself."
Argyl Serrano, October 6, 2009

Blessings do come as a surprise and how much we receive depends on how much our hearts can believe. May the Lord bless you beyond expectations.
Argyl Serrano, October 6, 2009

Making the first move to patch things up shouldn't always come from the one who made the mistake. Sometimes, it can come from the one who understands.
Argyl Serrano, October 6, 2009

An arrow can be shot only by pulling it backward so when life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means that it's going to launch you into something great.
Argyl Serrano, October 6, 2009

Sometimes, your existence gives hope to a person. Sometimes, your smile maybe a pearl for someone. Your presence might be the desire of the one who loves you dearly. So value yourself! Exist for a reason.
Rogelyn Donor, October 5, 2009

Teacher talking to student
Teacher: What do you think is the greatest problem facing the youth now?
Student: Alak po.
Teacher: (Impressed) Bakit mo nasabi yan?
Student: Mahal kasi eh! Bad trip!
Edwin Gutierrez, October 5, 2009

Drama sa Radyo:
"Ayaw ko ug guniti, Edwardo..buhi-i akung li-og. Gubot na akong buhok kay sige na ta'g bugno." "Tug-an sa tinood Lorena kay gianam-anam na tika'g luok." "Husto na Edwardo! Kita na ko ug kutsilyo sa lamesa. Akoa kining kuhaon ug akung iduslak kanimo. Ani-a na...nakuha na nako..giduslak na tika! Tugsh..." "Aahhh...gidunggab ko nimo sa tiyan. Nagkadugo na ko ug kamatyunon nako. Ani-a na patay nako...ugh."
Uy. With feelings kaayo iya pagbasa. Hehe.
Edwin Gutierrez, October 5, 2009

Pare 1: Pre, pautanga ko 5 kilo bugas ug 3 tinapa. Bayaran lang nako pag abot ni misis gikan US.
Pare 2: Sige pre, nus-a diay uli si mare?
Pare 1: Naga-apply pa pre! Iampo pre na makalarga na!
Edwin Gutierrez, October 4, 2009

"Worries are like birds; let them fly over you. But do not let them build a nest on your head. Life is a precious gift. Keep it worry free."
Mark Salazar, September 29, 2009

A clay pot containing milk will be valued higher than a golden pot containing poison. Our inner values make us a lot more valuable than our outer look and glamor.
Mary Ann Andicoy, September 26, 2009

It's your heart that makes you the best. You are wonderful according to what you are, not according to what you have. Keep that heart shining.
Mary Ann Andicoy, September 25, 2009

The thing about people who mean everything they say - they think everyone else does too - The Kite Runner
Shiela Mandaguay, September 25, 2009

Attitudes of smart employees:
Time conscious - Oras lay bantayan.
Workaholic - Dili makatrabaho kung dili maka-inom.
Service-oriented - Dili kalakaw kung walay service.
Hardworking - Lisod patrabahuon.
A keen eye for details - Himantayon.
Ate Bating / Edwin Gutierrez, October 25, 2009

The strong became weak. The genius became stupid. The speechless became talkative. The conservative became flirty. And it happened because of one thing: "Hubog."
Edwin Gutierrez, September 24, 2009

Effective way in courting:
Sabi ng boy kay girl: "Unsa man? Pili lang jud sa duwa: Sugton ko nimo? Or Uyab nata?" - kinsa gud di malisang ana?
Edwin Gutierrez, September 20, 2009

Juan: Pre, naa bay penguin diri sa Davao?
Pedro: Wa tawon, pre.
Juan: Nah, mao na ni Ron. Madre gud diay tong akong naligsan!
Edwin Gutierrez, September 19, 2009

Excuse Me?

Sometimes, it is so tempting to be a full-fledged anarchist.

Yesterday, I visited the BIR Regional Office in Davao to get my TIN card. This was again a necessary step in completing my pre-employment requirements since I needed another valid ID other than my passport.

When I inquired the (slightly annoyed) man at the front desk about what to do, he said to me that my TIN was registered in Taguig/Pateros by my previous company. So I had to fill up BIR Form 1905 to change the RDO to that of Davao City's. I was also asked to fax it to the office in Taguig City (Curiously, the BIR Davao Office doesn't offer any fax services).

After completing the form, I again asked the front desk what I should do next. And his answer just blew me away.

He told me that I should go back to Taguig/Pateros and verify my TIN "in person" in the Taguig office before I can apply for a TIN card. After he said that, I stared at him for several seconds but he didn't give me any other option.

I was flabbergasted and furious. The man was telling me to spend thousands of pesos for a plane trip to Manila just to get a stupid card.I immediately walked out of the office before I had the chance to do something I would later regret.

Later, Papa comforted me by saying that I wasn't alone. He also had the same problems with the BIR. Most of the time, people in that government institution can be very rude, arrogant, or very un-accommodating because they know they are needed. In other words, good customer relations isn't really important in the job when you know people will still come to you no matter how bad you treat them.

Papa told me to go to SSS instead to apply for an ID card (something that I should've done a long time ago) and, lo and behold, the staff in SSS were more humane in their treatment. Papa explained to me then that the SSS had more reasons to take care of their customers since the company was reliant on people paying their premiums regularly and on time. I just wish BIR also had more reasons to take care of its taxpayers.

Still, my problem hasn't been solved. My SSS ID won't be mailed to me until after 4-6 months. I still need a valid ID by next week. Gosh.

Medical

I don't like medical examinations. There's a certain amount of grossness associated with this bizarre initiation into the professional world, a grossness which leaves me squeamish and uncomfortable.

Take for instance urinalysis and fecalysis, where one is supposed to present his waste material as love offerings to the lab technicians. I don't know about you but nobody has ever explained to me the significance of those tests, which is a drag because, then, I have to do my own research in the internet.

The urinalysis is, you guess it, a test to analyze the content of your urine. This is to provide a general overview of one's health by measuring the amounts of certain substances present in your urine. Abnormal quantities can often be symptoms of certain diseases such as diabetes etc.

Fecalysis is another test to measure the condition of one's digestive tract in general. Again, abnormal quantities such as excess sugar, or the presence of blood, mucus, parasites can point to certain anomalies. I do humbly suggest however that hospitals also include the provision of antihelminthic drugs because, well, it follows (once the test picks up certain worms in your gut, you're bound to buy medicines for that, right?).

Actually, the only thing I hate about these tests is the part where I have to collect samples. That makes me go "Ewww!" but the self-humiliation doesn't stop there. I've done each test twice already (last year and this year) and every time I give my samples to the lab, there is always a pretty nurse waiting to receive them. And she is armed with two questions that can make any self-respecting gentleman lower his head in embarrassment: the questions "Ihi nimo ni?" and "Tae nimo ni?" (which is the Bisaya version of the more crude expression, "Is this your shit?").

However, don't get me wrong.I do understand the rationale behind this ceremony of tests, which is to screen potential employees from any underlying health problems. But understanding the reasons why doesn't often lead to greater acceptance (just like understanding death more doesn't mean one would accept it eventually). In any case, as long as companies trust the results and the effectivity of these tests, I guess there's no stopping the medicals: the drug test, the urine test, the chest x-ray, the stool test, the dental, the optical etc...

Ewww...

Confrontation 2

Okay, I haven't exactly done what I promised I'd do in the past. For those who've read my previous blog post about my encounter with the Kaingin Queen, I said then that I would come up with a solution, sit down with the president of the homeowners, and basically woo everyone to become nature-loving advocates allergic to open burning.

It turned out executing the plan wasn't so simple after all. I couldn't get an audience with Attorney Ceniza for the insane reason that I can't chance upon him at his house. He would either be off on a business trip or is busy exploring other dimensions. Needless to say, I won't count on him to help my cause.

The weather is also not an ally in my case. Since the incident, we've had intermittent rains culminating with the heavy downpour brought by Ondoy. Openly voicing out against open burning isn't such a good idea when, for most of the week, the ground is wet and people are reluctant to start fires. Timing is everything, as the cliche goes, and now is definitely not the right time for my message, especially with the news overflowing with flood stories.

So what's the plan now?

Well, I am a very patient and determined person. I'll lay low for a couple of months while I wait for summer. Then I make my move.

Indeed, summer is a very special time. My assumption is that more people are inclined to burn off excess foliage in their yards because the weather features less rainfall. Less rainfall means more brittle vegetation and drier soil. These conditions are ripe for open burning.

By then, I can launch my own information campaign on the perils of open burning by secretly placing fliers on the gates of my unsuspecting neighbors preferably at the dead of night. That will be the first 2010 activity of the one-man organization I shall call "Manang, Undangi Na!: A Citizen's Movement Against Open Burning".

Till next summer then! Now, to get some quotes on risograph printing...

Alcohol

If you look at my photos in Facebook, you'll see a picture of a bottle of beer. Pansit, a former colleague, tagged almost all the residents, and guests, of the Casibang compound in that picture.

Since I'm not a hypocrite, I don't mind being tagged since the picture is meant (if I read Kuya Pansit's intention correctly) to symbolize the inuman sessions and the bonds created in that special place.

With that opening, I think it's time I share my views regarding alcohol. I maybe one of only few people who don't like drinking alcoholic beverages. However, I do drink if the situation warrants it. Thus, I hope people respect the fact that when I do drink with them, I do so because they're special, special enough for me to temporarily forget my aversion to alcohol.

If I remember right, my parents were not exactly close friends of Lucio Tan. They bought only red wine and that was only served during special occasions like Christmas, the Lord's Day, and what not. In recent history, we've had small gatherings at home but alcohol was never served. It could probably be that Papa was banning alcohol from the house - and away from us - or he didn't want to spend money making other people tipsy.

In effect, as far as I know, none of my siblings deliberately seek alcohol when the opportunity finds itself. Also, thanks to our parents' subtle screening, all of us were spared of watching people get down and drunk during our childhood years. Now that I'm older, I can see the value of what they've done and perhaps guess at the motive driving that behavior. A former colleague of mine, Lugay, once shared to the us that she avoided drinking or smoking in front of her siblings because that was a bad example to them. I believe my parents also shared her point of view. I don't want to let my siblings see me drink for the same reason too.

While in Manila, there was this one incident that particularly unnerved me. I asked Palang, another former colleague and a friend, what was in the inuman sessions that was quite appealing. She replied by saying that the main attraction was when people were already drunk and were more open to doing crazy stuff. That was when the fun really starts. As for me, I didn't like the idea of getting drunk just so my friends could see me humiliate myself (luckily, I haven't done anything yet that is juicy enough to be passed down to the next generation).

To cap this post, I advise again my fellow brethren to always drink with caution and moderation or, at most, avoid the alcohol as much as possible. It pains me to see kids younger than my age who revel in the act, knowing full well that they'll suffer the consequences later on. That's no way to live a life. Indeed, it is written that the great JC was a social drinker. But it is never written that he got drunk.

Pokemon, Digimon, And Those Other "Mon-mons"

When I was young, I loved Pokemon. Like any other kid, I loved the cartoons and I loved the characters and I loved the almost perfect world that they inhabited. You could say that I too was engrossed at this Japanese creation, to the point that I almost memorized all the names of those cute creatures (were it not for the fact that the creators kept inventing new ones).

I also liked the other cheap derivatives of the Pokemon phenomenon that followed soon after. For instance, I liked Digimon. I especially liked the parts of the show when the Digimon creatures would transform into badder and more powerful versions of themselves. That was fun to watch.

But, like any other kid, my fascination over this genre faded with time. And now that I'm older and supposedly wiser, I think it's about time I take a more critical look at my childhood obsession.

First, the plot itself revolves around the theme of friendship. The owner and his creature-pets are friends. There are some episodes in Pokemon which clearly espouse the importance of taking care of each other on the basis of friendship (I will not dwell on those anymore). Indeed, there are many scenes where the owner and his or her beloved creatures are happy and are wearing smiles.

However, this seemingly nice anime espousing friendship contradicts its message on the face of its most recognizable plot device: the battle between the monsters.

In real life, I don't go around looking for fights. And I don't goad my friends into hurting themselves by fighting battles for me. Friends are there to support me and, if they want, protect me. But coercing them to fight and risk their lives is not what a friend does to his friends.

But this is what those stories of "Mon-mons" are all about: the owners pit their so-called pet-creature "friends" against other pet-creatures. Such blatantly "not-friend" behavior is tolerated in the Pokemon world but it is exactly what you see in dogfights, horse fights, and cockfights which are illegal in most places. One easily sees the similarities between a pet-creature owner and a real-life animal owner who takes care of his prized possessions.

There is also the case of an unfair hierarchy that governs the conduct of both owner and pet-creature. In these "Mon-mon" worlds, we see that the creatures themselves are very powerful, to a point that they can exist even without their human counterparts. But they readily subject themselves to the misguided intentions of their hapless owners who, in turn, abuse the potential powers of their pet-creatures in egoistic duels. It is difficult to swallow that the ones perceived to be vulnerable and unnecessary are the ones lording over the fitter monsters, a realization which criticizes the existence of friendship in an arrangement where one party is deemed superior to the other.

Truth be told, the genre of Pokemon does have its fair share of questions when it comes to moral judgment. For instance, if all these creatures have body parts which can be used as weapons, does it follow that they can only find their purpose by fighting other creatures? Or do they have a higher purpose which their owners do not want them to discover? And so on and so forth.

As a final word, perhaps, if another anime of this genre shows itself in the future, I will be very, very wary. I may not know what the effects of this show are on children but I will tell them to watch this kind of anime with caution and with a real-life pet beside them.

For more (belated) Pokemon bashing, here you go.

For Want Of A Diploma

I now remember why I did not get my diploma over a year ago.

I stopped by the Registrar's office last Friday to finally get one. And no, I wasn't struck by a sudden case of nostalgia; the diploma was simply one of the requirements for my new job.

At first, I was in high spirits. I was visiting Ateneo de Davao after all, my alma mater. I greeted Sir Bong cheerfully (to digress, Sir Bong is an ex-seminarian of the Alexian Brothers) and asked how I could get my diploma.

But my happy face disappeared a few minutes later. When Sir Bong returned to me after retrieving my files, he handed to me a "Diploma Clearance" form which I had to complete. Completing it entailed gathering the signatures of the Dean, the Division Head, the Librarian, and the Cashier. I protested, saying that I already completed a similar form before my graduation. Sir Bong promptly showed me my accomplished "Graduation Clearance", a strikingly similar form which had all the signatures of all the signatories indicated in the Diploma Clearance Form. After that moment, memories of college life - running around the campus, waiting in line, wasting countless hours and energy just to get several stupid signatures - rushed to my head. I promptly crumpled the form when no one was looking and threw it in the trash bin.

Even now, I honestly don't know what got into me that afternoon. Maybe, I was just so pissed off, knowing that I had to endure for one more time an unpleasant facet of my college life. Or maybe, I just got frustrated at what I perceived to be another inefficient redundancy in the process. For instance, the Graduation Clearance form was meant to clear students for graduation and the Diploma Clearance form was there to make sure students didn't have any pending dues with the school. These two purposes can in fact be accomplished with just one form, such that any student who wishes to graduate must also show that he has no pending dues or debts with the school.

Unless someone explains to me with perfect clarity and flawless logic the need for two separate forms, I will have to stick with my "One Form" idea.

But what upsets me the most is that such an obvious (and inconvenient) flaw in the process is even present in an institution which prides itself for its tradition in excellence. I had the same problem last year; I didn't get my diploma because I had to go after all those signatories. Now, a year later, I still had to do the same thing!

What should I do now? There is no escaping the current status quo: I still need my diploma. So now I'm thinking of hiring my brother to do the getting-my-diploma job for me. Outsourcing stress is already a booming industry, anyway; I might as well enjoy its benefits.

Two Things

Just two things.

First, don't go to Robinsons Cybergate Davao to have lunch if you don't have money in your wallet. That's because they don't have ATM machines in the vicinity. If you're wondering why, then I don't have the answer. Probably, the lack of ATM machines is an essential factor in an ongoing social experiment to test for solutions on how to curb consumerist tendencies.

Second, be wary of the security guards of SSS, especially if you are carrying a bag that needs to be checked. I know they are nice people. But I had the bad luck of noticing one guard insert his rod (you know, the one they use to check the contents of your bag) inside his pants. Near the groin. And he was pushing it in and out as if he was scratching his balls. You get the picture.

Boors

One afternoon, while I was on my way home, a group boarded the jeep I was riding on. Two women with two kids and several bags were inching their way through. They also had a gay companion who was behind them.

Apparently, the group just had a rough day. When one of the kids just stood there in the middle, looking for a lap to sit on, the gay companion burst out, "Tangaa aning bataa uy!"

With that remark, the rest of the passengers' eyes were upon them. As for me, I was speechless but I'm pretty sure I had my eyebrow raised at them. But the group didn't mind at all. Maybe, it was normal in their own little world to speak to children that way.

For the rest of the trip, the women cursed and sweared out loud about a certain person who didn't have money. When the jeep stopped in front of a red light at the Matina Crossing, one woman asked if they could now get out of the jeep. Her woman companion quickly replied, "Tanga ka? Bawal mubaba diri!", with a voice straight from a boom box.

Finally, they all alighted from the jeep somewhere along the Matina Aplaya road but the gay companion was still breathing hard on the kids (Gawas na, punyeta!).

Clearly, three people skipped classes when good manners were being taught. Or maybe, some parents had done a wonderful job in the past teaching their kids the right cuss-words for the right situation.

But I guess the greater tragedy here - greater than the misguided upbringing of those nincompoops masquerading as adults - are the kids. I do hope someone would teach those kids proper manners and speech or at least teach those adults to be more mindful of their words.

Paolo The Proofreader

I had to apologize to Dom for not attending his book launch. That was last September 27 and what happened was a classic fail.

The venue for the launch of the books of author Ma'am Jeanne Lim was in Davao Central High School (This tiny fact I only found out later). The event was to coincide with the school's homecoming. Sir Dom had given a text message before that the book launch will start at 3 in the afternoon in the Davao Chinese school.

Unfortunately, I had the erroneous idea that the Davao Chinese school is the Davao Christian High School (I honestly don't know where that notion came from). So when I arrived at the wrong school, I was inevitably greeted by the confused faces of the security guard and the janitor. To make matters worse, it started to rain really hard - the onset of Ondoy in Davao City - and I was trapped in the wrong campus for more than an hour.

After the rain stopped falling, I thanked the personnel of Davao Christian High School for their accidental hospitality and went home. I assumed that the affair was over at that point but, still, I was mentally shaking my head over what just happened.

So what made the book launch so special anyway that I felt compelled to go? Well, aside from the fact that Sir Dom, a mentor and my one-time idol, had played a huge part in the creation of Ma'am Lim's books, I also played a minor role in the making of those two books.

Sir Dom had tasked me to be one of the proofreaders and I was surprised that the job was pleasantly engaging the first time around. It was fun calling on my powers as an English major as I tried my best correcting typos and errors. I also enjoyed reading Ma'am Lim's works and I also learned a thing or two about screenplays.

But the work also had its downside. I wasn't exactly a detail-oriented person to begin with and it took a lot of effort to still be overzealous about the text after several pages. As much as the work was exhilarating, it was also quite mentally draining. And after I finished my task, I still had this nagging anxiety that I could have overlooked some mistakes in the manuscript.

Still, the bottom line was I had my fun (and now, I think I have a clearer idea why Mel loves her job so much).

A day after the launch, Sir Dom had requested that I go through the soft copies of the books once more just to give my final check. Right now, I'm still willing to do it but the thought of reading the same stories over again (no matter how good they are) is making me procastinate. Ergo, I can probably pursue proofreading as a leisurely activity but I would have to stay away from the idea of making a career out of it.

Biodegradable Shopping Bags

Several weeks ago, I noticed that SM was still going strong in its BYOB (Bring Your Own Bag) campaign, a campaign aimed to entice shoppers to use reusable shopping bags instead of the less "environment-friendly" plastic bags of yesterday. I don't really know if the campaign is already gaining success but I still do see a great majority of shoppers touting "yellow" bags instead of "green" non-woven bags.

As for me, I love the idea of the eco-friendly reusable bag. I really do. But so far, my parents haven't bought any shopping bags of that sort yet and I am in no way inclined to pursuade them to do that. Maybe, I'm also resistant to change but it can also be that the reasons to buy those green bags are not compelling enough.

First, they say that I can help the environment by buying reusable bags. The rationale behind this is, since I'm using the same bag over and over again, the less number of plastic bags are used over time, and the less trash will accumulate in our landfills in the form of discarded plastic bags.

But I don't think this reason is good enough because I now see the phrase "Biodegradable- 100% degradable environment friendly bag" written on every SM plastic bag. I am assured then that these items won't lead to more trash and more overflowing landfills because these would simply rot in the soil (albeit after a lengthy period of time). In contrast, the non-woven polypropylene green bags touted as "eco-friendly" are more catastrophic to the environment; they are slow to breakdown and are likely to leave toxic residues in the ground. The question then is: Is the green bag really a whole lot better than the yellow plastic bag we have grown accustomed to?

My second point is that SM apparently doesn't have any incentive for shoppers using their green bags. Even if I'm using a green bag, I'm not entitled to any discount whatsoever for doing my part to save Planet Earth. This, to me, is unfair, since the costs of producing those yellow plastic bags have already been factored into the retail prices of the goods I'm buying. By using green bags, I'm saving SM some money in the form of reduced demand in yellow plastic bags and, in extension, the reduced production of these items. At the least, SM should recognize my contribution in lowering their costs by giving me even a Php5.00 discount every time I shop with a green bag.

So there. I'm not saying I won't be using green bags in the future. It's just that as long as my reasons for not using them remain valid, I will still be sticking around with yellow plastic bags. Besides, we've got garbage and those yellow bags do their jobs well as nifty trash bags.

And hopefully, this is the last time I'll ever write an article with the word "bag" written a million times.

Text Messages 11

Two babies were chatting inside the incubator:
Boy: Ba't ka pinanganak?
Girl: Ewan ko eh. Ikaw?
Boy: Ako? I was born to tell you "I love you".
- ang cheezy naman!
Edwin Gutierrez, September 13, 2009

Bana: Lav, ngano gahilak man ka?
Asawa: Huhu, swithart, ingon atong silingan akong dagway mura kuno'g iro!
Bana: Mga walay batasan! Gipaak unta nimo!
Edwin Gutierrez, September 13, 2009

Don't ever be angry on your friends because up to the last moments of life, what will hurt us are not the words of enemies, but the silence of our friends.
Mary Ann Andicoy, September 12, 2009

An airplane on its return flight suddenly encountered a turbulence. Oxygen bags started to be dispensed so all the passengers started to panic, except for one little boy who was playing with his PSP. They asked him why he was so calm and why he was not afraid to die. He answered, "My dad is the pilot." That's TRUST. If Jesus is the pilot of your life, there's no need to worry even when everything goes wrong.
Argyl Serrano, September 9, 2009

Don't waste your time searching. Instead, get busy by being the person everyone's looking for.
Argyl Serrano, September 8, 2009

Dear God,
Please take care of this person. Mabait naman yan kapag tulog. Doblehin niyo na lang po ang bantay ngayon kasi gising na yata. Amen
Edwin Gutierrez, September 7, 2009

There's no room for hate in a peaceful and loving heart.
Mary Ann Andicoy, September 7, 2009

"Every experience brings out something good." Good times become good memories, bad times become good lessons. You never lose; you only gain from life!
Mary Ann Andicoy, September 7, 2009

You don't drown by falling in the water.
You drown by staying in there.
Don't allow yourself to sink. Learn to swim with life.
Edwin Gutierrez, September 6, 2009

A turtle once told me that no matter how heavy his bearings are, it's God's choice to make him carry the luggage for it's the only way he will be protected.
Rogelyn Donor, September 5, 2009

Find time each day: to smile at your memories, laugh at your little mistakes, celebrate moments, and dance in the dreams you hold closest to your heart.
Faith Go, September 4, 2009

The faults you see in other's lives are often true in yourself. So help yourself to recognize your own hypocrisy. The better we know ourselves, the less we will criticize others.
Mary Ann Andicoy, August 31, 2009

The story of the textmates na mag-eyeball:
Girl: Magsul-ob kog Yellow blouse, ikaw?
Boy: I'll wear Green shirt.
At the coffee shop, ugly girl in yellow comes in but no guy in green. She approaches guy in red.
Girl: Excuse me, are you my textmate?
Boy: Ngeeh. Naka-green ba diay ko?
- Bright!
Edwin Gutierrez, August 30, 2009

Magkumare nag-uusap:
Lukresia: Sana di ko na isinama sa kabaong ni Kulas yung cellphone niya noong ilibing siya.
Puring: Bakit?
Lukresia: Nagtext siya, sabi, "Dito na me, where na you?"
Edwin Gutierrez, August 30, 2009

Although I am against obscenities, still, I have included this text joke because it made me laugh so hard.
Diary ng Panget:
Dear Diary,
I'm so happy, sakpan ko sa akong crush nagtan-aw niya! Iyo ko gipamalikasan. Kagwapo jud niya!
One time, iya ko gitukmod, dugo ako nose. Kay gituyo man jud nako siya ug bangga.Kilig kaayo ko! Hihihi, at least nagdikit mi.
Ngayo siya sa akong pic kay ipa-salvage daw ko niya. How sweet!
Ug ang pinaka-the best, ingon siya, "F--k you." Shucks! Na-horny ko!
Edwin Gutierrez, August 30, 2009

Lord, I entrust my friends to your never-failing care and love, knowing that what you can do for them is far better than what I can even pray for. Amen!
Mary Ann Andicoy, August 29, 2009

We spend 70% of our life waiting. The rest we spend on doing something we know will never last.
Kit Loma, August 29, 2009

"Words without actions are empty, while actions without words are confusing."
Rogelyn Donor, August 27, 2009

Don't try so hard looking for perfect partners or friends.It's just this simple, "Be with people who know how blessed they are when they have you."
Rogelyn Donor, August 27, 2009

No one is more secure than the one who is held in God's hands. Safety is not found in the absence of danger but in the presence of God.
Argyl Serrano, August 27, 2009

"No matter how our dreams may seem unreachable, dream them anyway. No matter how we have been hurt by the people we love, love them anyway. No matter how hard life is, live it anyway. No matter how our prayers seem unanswered, pray anyway."
Shiela Mandaguay, August 26, 2009

If you laugh really loud, talk spontaneously, and you don't care what your face looks like, you're probably with your real friends.
Edwin Gutierrez, August 25, 2009

Moving on is not about never looking back.It's taking a glance of yesterday and noticing how much you've grown since then.
Rogelyn Donor, August 25, 2009

You live. You breathe. You laugh. You cry. You scream.You suffer. You die. And somewhere in between - if you're lucky - you fall in love.
Edwin Gutierrez, August 25, 2009

Whoever touches our lives, leaves Heartprints of love, friendship, and joy. Thank you for being a Heartprint!
Argyl Serrano, August 25, 2009

Popular Architecture

You know, I would have taken up Architecture as a course if it only took me four years to finish it, instead of five. Right now, I'm just content looking at structures, pinpointing some mistakes here and there, and silently criticizing the owners and the architects who have brought these mistakes to life.

Filipinos can be a very curious lot. For instance, we are still looking for our Filipino roots but, in terms of our architectural preferences, we are steadfastly clinging onto our colonial heritage. This behavior manifests itself strongly in how we, the middle class, design our homes.

For instance, Filipino architects love concrete It is the most loved construction material ever: a versatile, strong material which is also known for its remarkable durability.

But concrete is also very expensive (and its production isn't exactly eco-friendly since it adds a lot of greenhouse gases into the atmosphere). Delivering it to construction sites takes a lot of money and the time necessary to allow it to set costs money too.

Nevertheless, we Filipinos love concrete, such that we have eschewed the more traditional, cheaper, and indigenous construction materials used by our forefathers in favor of cement floors and walls and metal roofs (To digress, My Shelter Foundation, a non-profit organization, has pioneered the use of alternative construction materials in several rural projects. Their design solutions have ranged from using ceramics to earth in building structures that are not only budget-friendly but also disaster-resistant).

I am thus reminded of a certain experiment by Gawad Kalinga in Sitio Target. Apart from the sociological issues that clobbered the entire enterprise, the issue about the Aetas' GK houses also points to the misguided notions that our Filipino architects seem to share. Instead of celebrating our roots by constructing domiciles made from native materials, our architects advise us to use more popular materials - materials they are most comfortable working with - in building our homes. There are also architects who pander to their clients' colonial mindsets by suggesting ways to make houses look more "Westernized" and "global".

Speaking then of "westernizing" one's own home, we Filipinos are also very good at assimilating design concepts that are totally out of sync with our climate. One good example are the many houses in my neighborhood which feature "gliding" or sliding glass windows. In a tropical country, these windows should be considered banned since they do not maximize air ventilation with regard to window size (a crucial factor in cooling homes). In contrast, the more conventional jalousie window allows air flow roughly across the entire surface of the window frame. Compared to that, gliding windows only allow air flow through just one half of the window frame area.

Finally, most of us are hopelessly infatuated with how an American suburbian home looks like. Sometimes, I do get irked whenever I see nothing but sprawling lawns and paved concrete in a lot. These kinds of lots are unnatural to look at and one could easily assume that the owner wants to feel like he's living somewhere else far from the Philippines.

I am the enemy of the manicured lawn and it is all for a good reason. First, I consider it a total waste of soil if one only plants grass in a lot instead of more substantial vegetation such as colorful plants, shrubs, or trees (which fare better in shielding your house from excessive solar radiation as compared to any variety of grass, excluding bamboo).

I am also the enemy of the pavement since it is a waste of valuable land. It is definitely a better idea to grow some plants on a piece of yard than to cover it all with hot concrete, incapable of absorbing water.

So there you go. I think that's it for now. I bet I can find more architectural disasters in the future but I'll save them for tomorrow's blog posts. As a final word, all I can say is the majority of us make poor home designers and, sad to say, most of us don't even know that. As long as trends in construction and architecture continue to blind our judgments, I think it is best if we do a bit more research on the proper way of designing our homes.