Parkour

First, kudos to Chunks Pude and his friends for successfully organizing a Parkour group in Davao City. I believe they are on to more ambitious goals for this group, say: filing for registration in the SEC, building a Parkour gym for enthusiasts, and creating a website showcasing Parkour Davao. To all three goals, I wish them all the best (and maybe, along the way, I can be of some help too).

To begin, I was one of those who happened to be there for their first PK (Parkour) day in Magsaysay Park last August 31, 2009. I was fortunate enough that, despite probably being the oldest in the group (All were either college students or fresh graduates, with the exception of Harrold, who was neither), I didn't feel out of place because I knew some acquaintances.

Since most of us present were new to this sport, we were given an orientation about the basics of Parkour. Chunks took the lead in demonstrating warm-up exercises and introducing vault jumps. After that, we were taught how to roll, how to traverse obstacles like rocks and playground sets, and how to scale walls.

At first glance, the sport seemed easy to master; all we had to do was jump. But it turned out that observing and actually doing it were two different things. Most of the time, we newbies were standing in the corner, mouths agape, as we stared at our instructors trying to "motivate" us by doing the jumps themselves.

I realized then that guts is a necessary element in the sport. Parkour requires a great deal of confidence because it poses a higher risk of injuring yourself as compared to other sports like basketball (or chess). Jumps could go wrong; feet could get stuck behind obstacles; hands could lose their grip.

It also requires a certain flair or a little bit of showmanship in every enthusiast. What I like about the sport is its freewheeling attitude towards jumps. Simply put, it's all up to you how you would like to go over an obstacle. Creativity is celebrated and those who do stuff in new and unconventional ways get the loudest applause.

Surprisingly, the sport can also be an effective addition to a weigh-loss regimen. For several days after PK day, my abs hurt (It didn't help that I missed out on stretching exercises during that Saturday). To put it in perspective, my abs never hurt after a hard game in basketball or after a number of morning curls. If this is the case then, perhaps some people might be drawn to Parkour because they have a grudge against their belly fats (But then again, they'd have to be fit first before they can participate in the sport).

Right now, I'm looking forward to the next PK day. Back in Magsaysay Park, there's this huge 10 feet wall that needs to be conquered. And I can't wait to do just that.

Confrontation

Like I always say, I like to keep my mouth shut. But there are times when enough is enough, when I have to speak my mind out sometimes.

Last Saturday, my brother and I were playing basketball in another section of our subdivision. The basketball court was adjacent to an empty lot populated by trees and grass. Scattered throughout the lot were mounds of dry leaves and twigs, ready for burning.

Unfortunately for us, an old woman had prepared a sizable heap of organic junk on one end of the lot. She began starting a fire and soon enough, a thick plume of smoke, swept by the winds, was covering the basketball court.

Frankly, I was annoyed. The day before, the same woman had also started an open burning session. And, let me tell you, playing basketball isn't exactly a pleasant experience when you're breathing suffocating smoke into your lungs. So, I decided to chat with the woman and, perhaps, coax her into stopping her habit.

What I didn't expect though was the woman's defensive attitude. Far from the congenial, old lady I thought she was, she was extremely annoyed at my meddling. It didn't help at all that I brought up the fact - a wrong decision, in hindsight - that there is already an ordinance ( Wrong again, it's a law. Two laws, to be more accurate) penalizing the open burning of waste material. She rebutted this by saying that they've been doing this for 10 years now yet I was the first to complain about this practice.

I knew I couldn't win this one so I walked away. Surprisingly, after I stepped back into the court, my brother and I spotted the woman causing a ruckus. She was now talking to several people: presumably, her neighbor, her daughter, and some kids.

Just then, another lady, Ate Irisel (?), was starting another fire with her mound. By this time, I was getting exasperated and I approached Ate Irisel. Out of frustration, I asked her if the neighborhood could at least set a date or time when they would all light up their mounds, making open burning a weekly one-time deal ( since then, I've started researching better alternative options to this suggestion which I will discuss in another post, perhaps).

Then, the real confrontation started. A group was approaching us, consisting of the old woman, her daughter, Rolly ( a neighbor who is a smoker), and some kids who had fun taunting me all the way.

The opening salvo came from the old woman. Her battle cry was: "Nabastos jud ko sa imong gibuhat dong ba!" After hearing that, I was surprised because I couldn't recall anything I said in our initial conversation which was offending or insulting in any way. Maybe, I could have come off as someone arrogant and presumptuous by the way I, a newcomer and an outsider at that, was interfering with the ways of an established matriarch. Nevertheless, the old woman was furious and I was left mentally shaking my head as to what the cause of this rage was.

Rolly was a little trickier to handle. He had listened to some kids who had overheard my comments. He said I was making a big deal out of it solely because the smoke was interfering with my play. That was true but I also pointed out that I had been playing for quite some time now in their court and my mere annoyance over the nuisance of open fires have developed into a more general concern for the public safety of the neighborhood. I pointed to kids who might be at risk, playing basketball amidst the smoke.

In the end of the discussion, he said, "Sus, dahon lang mani dong," a brazen attempt to belittle the issue. He also pointed out that were it not for their efforts of starting fires every now and then, the whole lot would be a mess. The garbage truck wasn't picking up the junk so the neighbors burn it instead. He also belittled our efforts to help by asking if my brother and I were well-connected and said that everyone would be better off if we started collecting and disposing the garbage for them ( as our way of helping, of course). He was also irritatingly sarcastic, at one point, saying that he'll ask his neighbors to stop any burning if ever I was back in the court playing basketball.

Obviously, I vowed to return with a solution ( The best, so far, is to just leave any leaf, twig or branch to rot and degrade into the soil, making the soil more fertile with better nutrient retention). Hopefully, I'll have a chance to sit down with the neighborhood's president, a lawyer by the name of Mr. Ceniza. Maybe then, we can have a more fruitful discussion on how to address open burning in his turf ( Chances are, he might not even be aware of this).

To end this post, I still have to ask myself: why bother? Clearly, I have no personal stake at this. To Rolly, the old woman, and Ate Irisel, I'm merely someone who plays basketball in their court. But the fact remains that what they're doing is wrong and no matter how commonplace or how insignificant the issue may be, if I let it pass, then what does that speak of me? The important thing here is I know I'm right and I know I have the power to act on this issue.

Text Messages 10

DREAM...It's a source of inspiration.
LAUGH...It's music for the soul.
LOVE...It's the ultimate joy.
PRAY...It's the key to everything.
Mary Ann Andicoy, August 23, 2009

Behind every circumstance is God's purpose. At times, what we consider a trial is simply the Hand of God rearranging our lives to be more fruitful.
Kit Loma, August 23, 2009

"Huwag kang matakot na hindi na maaayos ang lahat ng gulo sa buhay mo. Malay mo, ginulo lang talaga yun para umayos ka!"...tama pud.
Edwin Gutierrez, August 22, 2009

May banat na din ang mga nanay sa mga lasenggero't lasenggerang anak: "Aanhin mo pa ang alak kung sa akin pa lang, tatamaan ka na?"
Edwin Gutierrez, August 22, 2009

Don't count the things you think you've done for someone. Instead, count the number of times you felt better, just because you made others happy.
Mary Ann Andicoy, August 22, 2009

Walang madilim na daan...kung uyab ang adtuan!
Edwin Gutierrez, August 22, 2009

Ang tawo nga naghubog-hubog ganahan lang malumos iyang mga problema. Wa siya kasabot nga ang mga problema kabalo pud mulangoy-langoy.
Edwin Gutierrez, August 22, 2009

Coins always make sound but paper money is always silent. When your value increases, keep yourself silent and humble.
Argyl Serrano, August 21, 2009

How to love?
For guys: Love your girl as if she's only 16, no longer a girl but not yet a woman. Love her with all your heart, set rules and never break her heart.
For girls: Love your boy as if he's only 8. Let him play with toys and go out with his playmates. Don't worry for at the end of the day, he'll still come back home to you.
For the loveless: Basa-basa lagi ka? La man ka labot...Hahaha
Edwin Gutierrez, August 20, 2009

Juan: Imagine kung naa ka sa usa ka nasunog na balay. Unsa man imong buhaton para malowas ka?
Pedro: Ka-simple. Undangan nimo'g imagine!
Edwin Gutierrez, August 20, 2009

Motivation: If you have tried a lot of times and failed, the only thing that can make it worse is when you give up.
Mary Ann Andicoy, August 19, 2009

A big jar full of water gets emptied by just a small hole. Significance? Even a little anger and pride can drain all the nobility of a good heart.
Mary Ann Andicoy, August 18, 2009

Faith allows impossible things to happen.It is the power that comes from a brave heart. And when a brave heart believes, Miracles do happen.
Marvin, August 16, 2009

Sa akong mga pag-hinulsol:
Sa tanan nga nag-care nako- Salamat
Sa mga nailad nako- Sorry, di na mausab
Sa mga nagpa-kilig sa ako- Hit me baby one more time
Sa mga ga-isyu sa ako- Sige lang para sikat
Sa mga nagpahilak nako- You owe me a talent fee
Sa mga tawo nga nag-share ug experience sa life ug nagpautang- Unta mao lang japon ha
Sa mga nasuya sa ako- Tse! Mu-pink na lang inyong mata, you can never be me
Ug sa gabasa ani- Amping kanunay
Jam Villa, August 15, 2009

Friend: Ang sakit-sakit tol! Bakit ganun siya? Iniwan niya ako.
Friend: Bakit tol? Saan ba dapat kayo pupunta?
Iyan ang kaibigan...minsan, hirap maka-relate.
Rogelyn Donor, August 14, 2009

Laugh so hard that even sorrow smiles at you. Live life so well that even death loves to see you live. And fight so hard that even fate accepts its defeat. Enjoy life to the fullest.
Mary Ann Andicoy, August 8, 2009

Being A Lector

Last Saturday morning, I was greeted by a surprise text message from Argyl, a fellow lector:

Argyl: Pao,mowning..Musta n u?
Me: Hi gyl, watzup?

Initially, it struck me as odd that she would check on me for no apparent reason. Then, she texted again:

Argyl: Musta nka? Nka.kita nka work?
Me: Hi gyl, actwali, gahulat paku sa results sa akung job aplicatiuns. Nganu diay? Sumthing bothering u? u want to askmi if i cud substitute u on sum mas asignments?

By then, I already had a rough idea about what this was leading to, especially since Ate Cris, another fellow lector, had also texted me that morning:

Te Cris: Pao gud mrning!, pwde u serv 4pm weding unya?
Me: Hi te cris, sori lako ka-rep las sunday. 4pm? ok. chek sa naku kung naa koy uni4m.

After a while, Argyl confirmed my suspicions ( and stopped beating around the bush, I should say) with her reply:

Argyl: Pao, ur an angel..Unyang hpon unta pao, 4 pm nga kasal..Pwd kya? Hehe
Me: Ya. gi-sub nka diay naku. Gtxt ko ni te cris kganihang buntag 2take da 4pm weding. No probz.
Argyl: Salamat jud kaau pao..Tenjew beri mutcho..

With that, I could only smile and guess at what could've happened behind the scenes ( To digress, I didn't substitute her pala. The assignment was up for grabs).

Anyway, I did fulfill my end of the agreement and I also found out how many hours I would typically invest every time I took on an assignment. That would approximately be three hours with the first hour intended for getting ready for mass, the second hour for the 30-minute commute and the subsequent practice and the third hour for the mass itself. That realization could have been pretty sobering if I wasn't yet aware of the real reason why I'm still a lector.

Last month, I resumed taking on assignments. But I was already asking myself, "Why am I doing this again? Ngano wa' pa man ko nagsawa?" Frankly, I was at odds as to the purpose of my being a lector and this was what confronted me every time I served. I kept wondering if there was something more to this and if it was time to move on to more productive pursuits.

I remember back then that I once asked Argyl ( same person) if she also felt that what we were doing was not worth pursuing anymore, if she also felt that it was time to move on. She replied by saying that she was still enjoying serving the church as a lector and that explains why she's still at it after two years.

In a good way, that answer struck me and made me do some reflecting regarding my motivations for the past couple of years. First, I joined the Lectors because a Theology class required that I participate actively in church. Then I stuck with it because I found the group quite entertaining and the work invigorating. After that, I guess my initial motivation turned to a grim sense of duty. In my last year in college, I remained a Lector because I knew that the more active Lectors there were, the lighter the workload for everybody. I wasn't enjoying it anymore.

What was my reason now? As luck would have it, I glanced upon a quote from Eric Liddell, an Olympic runner: "To give up running would be to hold Him in contempt." With that quote, I gained a new appreciation of myself. I was blessed with enough self-confidence to stand in the lectern in front of many people. Also, I was gifted enough to speak clearly in public. Surely, this "giftedness" must mean something and being a Lector was the ideal ministry to show and develop that giftedness. To quit being a Lector now simply because the work isn't anymore novel would be tantamount to also "holding Him in contempt."

Now, I think I've found my reason in being a Lector and it might serve me just fine for the next couple of years. I'm also trying to bring back the fun there was in this service. As they say, any work isn't worth doing if you're not enjoying it and I'm slowly but surely finding out why I enjoy this line of work.

Why I'm Allergic To Asianovelas

Like everyone else, I also watched Meteor Garden a long time ago. Well, for the most part, I watched it because the actress protraying San Chai was cute.

As time went by, I also watched a couple of Asianovelas before gradually but surely losing interest in that genre. I could attribute this to a lot of factors, namely, the monotonous and increasingly generic plot structures, the lack of imagination in the characterization of the story's cast, the generally depressing mood of the story etc. But what really distanced me from the genre was the overall relations between men and women, particularly in Koreanovelas.

I remember my mother once asking aloud why my sister and I kept watching Full House even though the male protagonist kept treating his female partner like dirt (Yeah, I watched that too but only because I unfortunately saw all 5 initial episodes. After that time, I was already hooked and, no matter how much I loved or hated the series, I had to see it all the way to end). Well, that observation was pretty much accurate for all the other Koreanovelas that flourished since then.

The usual male protagonist was the stone-faced, emotionally unstable dude, whose vocabulary doesn't include the word "gentleman". He treats his female partner with the same respect as he would treat a dog, occasionally being rough if the situation demands it. Somehow, the male protagonist "redeems" his brutish behavior towards the opposite sex by finally falling in love with his partner at the later part of the story.

Pathetic, really.

But, putting my mother aside, I blame my Feminism class for this heightened critical attitude towards Asianovelas in general. Aside from that, further research showed that Korea and other Asian countries continue to be the most male-dominated, the most "sexist" societies in the world. That probably explains why power plays and social relations in these societies favor men, a fact that is unconsciously sublimated in the media. So the end result are Asianovelas which more or less portray women in varying degrees of "social oppression", a fact which somehow gets lost as the masses enjoy watching a romantic couple's many crises on screen.

Honestly, I sometimes miss the cheesy Filipino dramas where the boy always tried his best to be his beloved's knight-in-shining-armor. Although you would be hard-pressed to see those scenes in today's TV, those scenes of unrequited care and love always possessed an undefinable quality that somehow makes us Filipinos feel good about ourselves.

True, there are many Filipino men out there who are not only weak but unrepentant playboys. But, rest assured, most of us are certified gentlemen and true lovers too. And that's something I find disturbingly missing in most of the Asianovelas I've watched.

Financial Literacy In The Schools

The first time I heard about Financial Literacy, it was when my mother brought home the book, Rich Dad Poor Dad by Robert Kiyosaki. You could say I had a "Road To Damascus" experience while I was reading that book because it opened my eyes to other possibilities that were within my grasp but were initially not part of my context.

Before my encounter with that book, I was among the financially illiterate, people who didn't know anything about investing, personal finance, and those other "complicated" financial stuff. I was among those who believed that to be financially stable in the long run, one must have a good, well-paying job and must learn how to save for the future. I wasn't aware of any alternatives to prosperity at that time other than to work and save.

In hindsight, I would have known better if I had chosen a business course in college, rather than indulging my creative side by being an English major. Reflecting on it now, I guess that was one shortcoming of my education; that I wasn't taught about Financial Literacy.

Being the avid reader that I was, I turned to other books on finance after reading Rich Dad Poor Dad. I learned about stocks, bonds, mutual funds, real estate investments, insurance, networking, credit, good debt, business management, cash flow, and a host of other equally exciting buzz words. And although today, I'm still the poor schmuck I was then, at least now I know how to be financially stable ( or wealthy!) and I know what it takes to get there fast.

Despite my discovery, it still bothers me when I think about those other people who simply won't get the same chance as I did. What about those students who will go through college without ever knowing how to manage their finances? Or how to be rich? Or how to be secure in retirement? Now, that's a recipe for disaster ( just ask those Americans who owe more than than what they earn).

I believe that in a subject such as Financial Literacy, self-initiative is an important factor in knowing more about the subject matter. In my case, it was through my initiative that I learned more about it. I read books and asked a lot of people. However, I started somewhere and that was when my mother brought home that book. After which, I was made aware of the importance of the subject and acted accordingly.

And I guess this is where schools ought to step in. As I've said, one shortcoming of my education is that I was not oriented about Financial Literacy. My proposal is that schools, particularly colleges, should start giving classes about this subject. These classes need not be comprehensive enough that they require a full semester. They can be just short one-hour overviews. The important thing here is that students are made aware of the subject and hopefully, when the class is over, they will be motivated enough to do their own research and make their own plans. Again, the important objective here is to give students a legitimate starting point in securing their own "destinies".

Knowledge is power, as the cliche goes, and educating everyone about Financial Literacy is a step towards empowering the masses.

The NCCC Angelus

I didn't know this custom was still alive.

Last Friday, I visited NCCC Uyanguren to get something to eat and I was surprised that several shoppers in the area were standing with heads bowed. I prodded on until I finally heard the faint recording of the Angelus: it was 6 o'clock PM then.

I stopped and bowed my head, all the while grinning, amused that this tradition was still practiced. Sure, the tradition had lost some of its appeal. When I was "young", virtually everyone stopped in their tracks in deference to the prayer. Last Friday, only a handful did, with the majority going about their own business as the recording droned on.

Nevertheless, it was nice to know that this remnant from the past is here to stay. If there ever will be a trivia quiz on what's special about Davao, chances are the NCCC Angelus will make it as an item.

Tree House

I have a lot of childhood memories regarding tree houses. So I'm placing them all here in case I forget them entirely. I'm getting old, you see, and I don't want to let go of some of the best memories of my childhood life.

I remember the first tree house I ever climbed. It wasn't exactly a tree house per se but was simply a plank of wood wedged between two humongous branches of Tita Prining's tree. It was put there by Kuya Arnel, a cousin, and when we went to Nabunturan, my brothers and I would take turns climbing up and sitting on that plank. The task of climbing was easy since the tree already had blocks of wood nailed on its trunk. Although the view wasn't exactly spectacular (it only offered us a second-floor view of the church backyard and other people's yards), the experience was a certified adrenaline rush, which more than compensated for the moribund view.

I also remember the time when every boy in the neighborhood was into the tree house craze. Almost everyone was into building tree houses. It certainly helped that in our part of the subdivision, there were two large vacant lots full of ipil-ipil trees and cogon grass.

If I remember right, the craze happened when Hansel, the local bully, built a makeshift wooden chair on one of the trees adjacent to Gladiola street. This was so he could have a better view of the basketball "court", which was the street itself, every time games were played.

After that, Gin-gin, the recognized alpha male in the group, proceeded in building his own tree house on the other side of the street. The target was a taller tree and it promised a better view. He started by building a chair high up on the tree. Then he solicited everybody's participation by ordering everyone to gather plywood and nails. It so happened that our house' perimeter then was littered with scrap material and so it was easy for my brothers and I to get involved in the project.

Soon, what used to be just a tree chair resembled more and more like a tree house. In the end, the tree house amounted to four levels of wooden structure. The first level, resting on the bottom branches, was a simple wooden floor that served as a mess hall. The second, higher level was another floor but this time, with railings attached to the side. The third level was the same as the second, but only smaller. And the fourth level was simply a chair, where one can get a good view of the adjoining neighborhoods, and where only the brave could sit ( for the simple fact that one could already feel the tree sway with the winds on that height).

That tree house became the focal point of our existence during vacations. It was where the gang had the occasional lunch picnic of hotdogs, noodles, cola and rice. It was also our refuge from the boredom at home, when the sun was still too high for afternoon basketball, when computer games were still not in the picture, and when Otto's crazy goat, Joseph, was still alive and loose.

I remember that, after some time, a business proposal came up and Gin-gin opened the tree house for eco-tourism. He invited Laura and Noynoy, the children of Attorney Magulta, to climb up the tree house for a fee: five pesos per person ( if I remember right). Unfortunately, that business never took off because, seeing her ward climbing the rickety tree house, the yaya hastened to chastise both Laura and Noynoy for their reckless behavior ( They were able to climb, yes, but Gin-gin couldn't collect the money any more. Bummer).

Looking back, I guess the rest of us were fortunate enough that our parents never really cared about what we were doing. They may have known about the tree houses but that knowledge didn't in any way impede the fun.

And the craze just went on. Soon, Hansel got jealous of our tree house and made a more legitimate one up another tree. The house was only a simple wooden floor with some shade and side railings but it had a unique security feature: a password machine. Actually, the machine was just a thick, square plyboard nailed onto the base of the trunk. What Hansel did was draw a diagram of a keyboard onto it. Afterwards, he insisted that only those who can "type" the secret password can climb up. As the days passed by, the password machine gradually became a joke and people, including me, would secretly climb up his tree house during the times when he wasn't around ( Hehe. So much for security).

Otto's cousin, who was famous for his feat of once inserting a hand into a cow's anus, also built his own tree house. His tree house was probably the most decent tree house ever because he used newly cut wood for his "tree shed". We climbed up that one too.

Not to be outdone, my brothers also made their own tree house. We had a small tree at the left corner of our lot after all. What they did was they nailed together a wooden floor complete with an entry trapdoor on the branches of that tree. Unfortunately, that pseudo-tree house didn't last long because the tree was cut down to make way for the garage shed.

And the same fate grimly awaited the ipil-ipil trees of our tree houses. One of our neighbors ordered his henchmen to seal off the vacant lots and cut down those trees to make way for his vegetable patch. As children, we were powerless to stop the onslaught. That, I think, signaled the end of my childhood.

Looking back, those years with the tree houses were probably the most fun-filled years of my young life. I even floated the idea that perhaps the Ateneo Matina Campus should also have their own tree house on top of one of their majestic Acacia trees, just to make sure the students won't be missing anything special while they're still young.

Oh well, let's see if that idea flies off.

Beyond Cory

It has been over a week since the body of President Cory was sent to its final destination. Needless to say, TV stations have ceased airing shows celebrating Cory's memory and have gone back to regular programming. It is apparent that, although the grief still remains, the period of mourning has begun to end and once again, we are left to ponder what will become of us now that another icon has passed away.

I was reading again Ms. Jessica Zafra's article and she hit it right on the head when she implied that we, meaning those under 35, those who were too young to actually be considered witnesses of EDSA and the Cory years, don't really know who Corazon Aquino was. And she's right. As I was watching the funeral procession, listening to all those farewell speeches, it finally dawned on me that I hardly knew the woman except as a relic of a bygone age.

It is useless to hide ignorance this time around nor is it productive to try to fake empathy. The truth is I don't know Cory and though I recognize her deeds, this recognition is absent of the emotions which have left many others disconsolate over her final departure. Furthermore, I believe this is also the same feeling that most of my generation also harbor.

If I had been born at least seven years earlier, this would have been a different matter. I would have had the opportunity to experience what it was like before and, at least, be a spectator to how this woman's courage and faith helped shape a nation's history. I would have had the opportunity to be immersed in the conflicts of those years, in the emotions and the drama of the decade, to be living under the Marcos' administration and Cory's. Surely, my knowledge of the era would surpass that of all the history textbooks I've read because much of my knowledge would be coming from the heart and not from the head.

But then again, it's useless to ponder on hypothetical situations and we, the younger generation, are left to ponder how this seeming ignorance of Cory's life and the era she represented plays itself out on our own quest for national consciousness.

Yes, it is unfortunate that our knowledge of Cory, the citizen, is deficient. I have to admit that the best way of truly knowing her is and will always be by living in the same era that she "lived", in those times when she best defined her legacy. Sadly, we were born too late and all we saw was a woman who, though still ever nationalistic and headstrong, continually failed to muster the necessary "People Power" to topple an increasingly corrupt presidency.

But, perhaps, our ignorance is also our blessing. Spared from knowing her weaknesses, her foibles, and her past, we are left with an artificial and blemish-free facade of her person: that of a larger-than-life symbol of purity and heroic leadership. Although we are resigned to knowing Cory only through the corrective lens of others, we are fortuitously left with a powerful symbol worthy of our emulation.

It is also perhaps another blessing that we are spared of the nostalgia surrounding Cory. Subsequently, we are spared the exercise of having to reminisce the past that Cory represented and having to think about where it all went wrong. Clearly, as far as we are concerned, there is no glorious post-EDSA , only a brilliant start blundering its way to a grim present.

It is here that Cory's memory best serves us. For us, Cory as a symbol represents a challenge, a challenge not to revert to a celebrated past but to actually exceed it. The mourning for Cory prompted a vivid repainting of better days, when government officials were honest, when the nation was full of hope for its future, when anything was possible because Cory was president.

To be honest, sickened by what we see now, it is no surprise that we also yearn for those days. Those are the days which we intend to relive and if Cory could do it, perhaps we can do better. Perhaps, when our time truly comes, we will find ourselves still clinging to the values this woman embodied and, by then, we will be more than ready to change the status quo.

Today, I watch my country slowly deteriorating, confident in the belief that its future is still with us. In the back of my mind, I keep thinking, "Maybe, we can do better than Cory".

Maybe then, we will do better than all those who preceded us.

Making Sense Of All These Labels

Okay. Stop reading. This isn't what you think. I'm just trying to make sense of all the labels of my blog posts:

Kinsa Man Ko?- For all the blog posts which I find very difficult to categorize
Unsa nang Amiga ug Amigo?- For blog posts which are about friends and certain special people
Unsa nang Arnis?- For FMA (Filipino Martial Arts)-related blog posts
Unsa nang Bayot?- For blog posts related to homosexuality and gays
Unsa nang Biyahe?- For blog posts related to travel and transportation
Unsa nang Dabaw?- For blog posts related to Davao City
Unsa nang Ginoo?- For blog posts related to God, the belief in God and otherwise
Unsa nang Gobyerno?- For blog posts related to government and government agencies
Unsa nang Gugma?- For blog posts related to love, especially romantic love
Unsa nang Hayop?- For blog posts related to animals, particularly our dogs
Unsa nang Kalagot?- For blog posts related to outrageous issues and persons
Unsa nang Kinaiyahan?- For blog posts related to environment and environmental concerns
Unsa nang Lector?- For blog posts related to my service as a Lector for our local church
Unsa nang Maynila?- For blog posts related to Manila (and dissing it)
Unsa nang Mindanaw?- For blog posts related to Mindanao and its issues
Unsa nang Pag-ampo?- For blog posts related to spirituality and religion
Unsa nang Pagmuni-muni?- For blog posts which are products of reflection
Unsa nang Pagsulat?- For blog posts containing short stories, poems, essays and other creative writing stuff
Unsa nang Pagtabang?- For blog posts regarding philanthropy and generosity
Unsa nang Pamilya?- For blog posts related to family affairs
Unsa nang Pinoy?- For blog posts related to nationhood and national consciousness
Unsa nang Politika?- For blog posts regarding politicians
Unsa nang Skwela?- For blog posts regarding education and the educational system
Unsa nang Text?- For blog posts about the text messages I've been receiving
Unsa nang Trabaho?- For blog posts related to work

Hopefully, I won't be adding any more labels.

Turning 22

I just turned 22 last Saturday.

But the day itself was quite ordinary. There was no big birthday celebration, no parties, no gimmicks, no guests. I was determined to let the day pass by without anyone making such a big fuss about it. And that was what happened. Apart from the greetings from my family, text messages and FaceBook greetings from "special" people, almost no one knew I was a birthday boy (Yes! Another birthday wish granted!).

The day was also an opportunity to look back on the year that was and reflect upon the lessons I've learned (if any). Luckily, I was in church virtually the whole day because of some wedding assignments so I had the necessary ambiance to recollect my thoughts.

So, how exactly did I fare well in the 22nd year of my life? Well, it's probably easier if I answer this question based on what hasn't changed in me and what has.

First stop, I can fry and grill but I still don't know how to cook. I'm still a frustrated guitarist, still the impatient person, still the boy who likes keeping his mouth shut, still the ever loyal and (loving?) son, still the Atenista with the slightly snobbish attitude, still the ever critical Catholic, still the high-minded idealist of sorts, and still the proud Dabawenyo who came from the bukid.

But I also like to believe that I've changed for the better since my previous birthday. For instance, I think I'm more aware of how valuable relationships are and, in my own clumsy and inconsistent ways, I'm trying to preserve those relationships which are meaningful in my life. I'm also more humble, having grasped the width of my ignorance and the limitations of my person. I've also gained a deeper understanding of my place in this world and it certainly isn't among those who stand by the sidelines watching the parade or among those who choose the path that everyone seems to be taking.

Right now, I'm living the early days of my 23rd year on Earth and I do pray that when this year ends, I can see myself way, way further than before. I hope to see myself then on the way to achieving my goals and maturing even further in spirit and thought.

That, my friends, is my second birthday wish and here's to another year in my life. Cheers!

Text Messages 9

Perceptions: Life is hard because we see the obstacles, not the goals. Life is painful because we see the tears and not the smiles. People are rejected because we see their faults, not their righteous deeds. People are weak because we see their failures not their successes. It is the way we look at things, and not plainly on our judgment, that makes this world worthwhile to live in. Good morning!
Ate Cathy, August 9, 2009

The highest place in the world is still down on the Lord's feet.
Ate Cathy, August 9, 2009

I know you miss me! Pero ayaw mo lang sabihin sa akin. So ako na lang ang magsasabi in behalf of you. You miss me. How sweet! I miss you too. Hahaha.
Edwin Gutierrez, August 8, 2009

What if your greatest mistake is your greatest happiness? Will you stand to correct it or just hope that you won't live to regret it? Just a thought. Good day!
Ate Cathy August 8, 2009

3 things in life that never come back when gone: Time, Words, Opportunity.
3 things in life that should never be lost: Peace, Hope, Honesty
3 things in life that are most valuable: Love, Faith, Prayer
3 things that make a person: Hard Work, Sincerity, Commitment
3 things that can destroy a person: Lust, Pride, Anger
3 things in life that are constant: Change, Death, God
Ate Cathy, August 8, 2009

Let this cold morning inspire you, the love you feel guide you, the smile in your face move you, and the love of God show you the way. Smile for the new morning! Have a great day!
Edwin Gutierrez, August 8, 2009

In life, don't think about the pain we went through, but the lessons it taught, not how much we've been hurt but how much we have been blessed and loved by God!
Ate Cathy, August 7, 2009

You really don't have to be super nice always. Sometimes, you have to show your bad side, so that you can sort out who can accept You at your worst mood and see who still chooses to stay.
Ate Cathy, August 3, 2009

Nice thought: "You can't predict what's going to happen. But sometimes, the thing you didn't expect is what you really wanted after all. Maybe the best thing to do is stop trying to figure out where you're going and just enjoy where you are."
Edwin Gutierrez, August 2, 2009

Kwatrokantos ugat sa ekis sa gahom sa dos kay ekis. In English: square root of x to the power of 2 is x. Unya? Kapasar kaha ka kung bisaya pa ang math?
Edwin Gutierrez, August 1, 2009

Tindero: Bili na kayo kurtina!
Erap: Kurtina, sige bibili ako para sa computer ko!
Tindero: Bakit po sa computer?
Erap: Haller! May Windows din kaya yun. Slow ka!
Edwin Gutierrez, July 31, 2009

Sometimes, the only thing we can do is to do nothing.- the rock. Mabuhay ang mga tamad!
Edwin Gutierrez, July 30, 2009

Sa isang bar, Lolo kumakanta ng "My Way":
Lolo: ...and I did it mmmyyyy...
(nakarinig ng kasa ng baril!)
Lolo:...my reason that I breather, you are the reason that I still believe, you are my destiny...Jai Hoooo....ooowoh...

Kurog si Lolo oi!
Edwin Gutierrez, July 30, 2009