Token of Gratitude

Ma'am Leony is a colleague. She was our pre-processor way back in 2010, reviewing our loan documents prior to booking the actual loan. She gave us hell but she was also considerate and kind when we needed her to be. Right now, she's still a pre-processor but, this time, she's working with another team. 

She was probably the best mentor I've had in my current company. I've learned a lot from her and so had Reggie and Noelle, two of my other colleagues. Because of this, we gave her just a little something to warm her Christmas last 2010 - a big, white, pillow with this picture printed on the front:

Like I've always thought, Ma'am Leony has always had beautiful, soft eyes.
 
Thanks Ma'am.

Surfing

My Internet routine:

Turn on laptop.

Go to Facebook. Check out notifications, messages, group lists. Log off.
Go to Daily Thunder. Search for more NBA news.
Go to 9gag. Have a few laughs.
Go to science websites (Popsci, Discover, Nature, etc.). Learn something new.
Go to current affairs (Guardian, Huffington, Time, Atlantic, Philippine Star). Get some news.
Go to Blogger. Follow some blogs. Type in some posts.
Go to Beemp3. Download some music.
Turn off computer.
Smile.

Thesis

I miss my thesis. Or to put it more clearly, I want to put it in this blog.

Even now, I can still say my thesis was the best piece of prose I have ever written. Needless to say, a lot of effort was put into it, with me writing most of the critical parts in the work.

The thesis was all about the symbols inherent in the design motifs found in the dagmay, the traditional textile woven by the weavers of the Mandaya tribe.

 Unfortunately, the soft copy of my thesis died a long time ago. Our computer crashed several years back (I was in Manila then) and the hard disk was wiped clean.

Now, I consider that a loss and a hard one at that. So, for 2012, I intend to hire someone to encode my thesis for me. The only remaining copies, I believe, are the printed versions now safely kept inside the college library and the shelves of the Humanities Division.

After this project is over, I'll have a good digital copy of my work and I'll make sure it's backed up. I'll also be putting everything in this blog so anyone interested in the thesis, as a reference and as a starting point for further research, can look it up anytime.

One of these days. One of these days.

Facebook

I signed up for Facebook last 2008. 

It was out of necessity. My office mates were posting pictures of our gimmicks on the site and I wished to view them. So I added myself up as an "FB" user so I could be tagged in these photos. It was fun.

Then came the period when I was an unemployed bum. I spent my new-found leisure time playing those internet games in the site and skimming at the news feed every minute or so.

I finally found work eventually and what had been a love affair with Facebook for over a year eventually faded to a weekly cursory glance. I added "friends", glanced at their profiles, and moved on. I posted pictures but my interest in Facebook was apparently diminished.

It didn't help that Sir Dom, one of the guys I idolized back in college, had already "killed" himself in Facebook. He had already closed his FB account and lived to tell about it.

I, for one, didn't go to such extremes but I had mentioned every now and then how life would be so easy if I just simply signed off.

Nowadays, Facebook, for me, is simply Facebook. Just when a lot of the people I know in Davao have begun to rave about it, just when it has become ubiquitous, I finally got bored. I still log in every week but it's merely a product of habit rather than a forced compulsion or an itching desire.

Facebook, thank you. But I now relegate you to the netherworld of my past life. Along with Plurk.

What Is That Stuff?

 Recently, I've been fascinated by processed goods. I've been  reading the fine print found in the labels of certain products and have wondered what exactly I was eating.

The ingredients point to another dimension, jargon bordering on gibberish, with names claiming to be exotic and inedible at the same time.

I wish there was a website describing the many ingredients found in our food, replete with nutritional data and their uses. I bet quite some people will find such a website worth visiting.

Canker Sores

They'll always be my first glimpses of hell.

Ouch.

Open Letter To Mama

Dear Ma,

I remember joking around before that it's hard for me to find a girlfriend when you yourself have set a pretty high bar.

To be honest, I'll always be the first to say that my mother is the most beautiful woman in the world, despite the wrinkles and warts. It's corny, yes, but it's also the truth. The way you've inspired the people around you continues to dazzle me. The way you've lived your life erases all your flaws.

I hope you know and, more importantly, feel that I love you. You know our family is really not into hugging and kissing but I hope that the way I've lived my life so far has brought you joy and pride. I guess the best way I could ever show my love is by being a good son and proving to everyone that you've raised me well.

I'm writing this letter because I may regret not doing so. Back in college, Atty. Baldovino had lamented how students would only remember thanking their teachers several years or even decades after graduation. The problem is compounded between children and parents because the rigors of daily life makes it hard for one to step back and sincerely say "Thank you" and "I love you".

So Ma, I love you and salamat. Thank you for being a mother to me.

Your son,
Paolo

She's probably saying "Istoryahe" right now. Hehe.

A Sense Of Foreboding

I don't know what's wrong with me.

Recently, I've been preoccupied with death, as if my time has come and I'm about to die anytime soon. Strangely though, the feeling isn't one of fear but of grudging acceptance.

There are many things that I still want to do with my life. Somehow, this feeling of death is giving a bit more urgency to how I deal with my everyday affairs.

I don't know how long this will last though but I'm praying it won't stop. Ironically, this uncomfortably normal feeling is pushing me to live again. Finally.

Ig-ani diay pag emo. Ewww.

A Heartwarming Ad

Just when you thought commercials have gone stale, Coca Cola pulls out something like this. It's an ad campaign, featuring the company bringing home a select group of OFWs in time for Christmas. It really tugs at the heart, making the commercial even more notable. Made my eyes water for a second. Here it is:

But let's not lose sight of the larger picture. The OFW phenomenon is a recent one, borne out of a stagnating domestic job market. An entire nation of Filipinos working abroad need not suffer loneliness and separation from their families if the country can figure out how to generate high-income jobs here. I hope I can live long enough to see this come true.

For the meantime, enjoy the video.

Kada galaw, buwis

The Bureau of Internal Revenue had issued Revenue Memorandum Circular (RMC) 53-2011 which "states that voluntary contributions to the SSS, GSIS, Pag-IBIG and PhilHealth are subject to tax". 

BIR Commissioner Kim S. Jacinto-Henares would later say, explaining the move, that, “It has been observed that the grant of income tax exemption to SSS, GSIS, PhilHealth, and Pag-IBIG contributions in excess of the mandatory contributions is being abused." Hence, any contribution beyond the mandatory premium dictated by the government shall now be considered as an investment and will be treated as a tax-deductible item.

The affected government institutions were quick to respond to this. Their contention was simply that it will affect them in the form of reduced savings, since pretty much everyone treats voluntary contributions to SSS, GSIS, Philhealth, or GSIS as a way of saving for a rainy day. Taxing these will be a great disincentive.

But Kim Henares' opinion is not unfounded, however. That's because there are shrewd businessmen who know how to work the system by placing their profits in tax-exempt vehicles such as premiums to SSS or Philhealth (Tax Avoidance 101). But I believe they are greatly outnumbered by the many who contribute to these corporations solely because they want to save more and avail of the bigger benefits for those who contribute more.

What is my opinion? Well, I'm against government measures which unavoidably rein in savings (as opposed to those which curb expenses but that's another post). We Filipinos are not saving enough and if we are saving, we are doing it the wrong way (by placing it in a piggy bank, of all places, or the bank, two surefire ways of getting trampled upon by inflation). This new memorandum is simply not good in the long run.

What I do worry about is a case of the slippery slope. If the BIR can tax voluntary contributions to these institutions, what will prevent them from, say, taxing us on other areas? I shudder at the thought but a case of triple or even over-taxation may be closer to reality than we think.

As a side note, I'm being taxed every time I receive my salary (income tax), I'm taxed every time I buy goods (VAT), and now I'll be taxed every time I save more than necessary (RMC 52-2011). I'm definitely overtaxed no matter how I see it.

Strength And Character

Every day, I mention in my prayer that God please help me be a better Christian and, of course, a better person. But I know better.

I ask in my petition that I be stronger, that I be braver. But it's a weak petition, at the most. That's because I know what it takes for someone to possess that kind of indomitable will and character that, in turn, becomes the envy of all men.

A scene in Evan Almighty resonates to what I will try to say. Mrs. Baxter is in a diner with God, masquerading as a fellow customer. God says, " Let me ask you something. If someone prays for patience, you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If he prayed for courage, does God give him courage, or does he give him opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for the family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other? "

That's what I dread the most. Because for everything that you want to have, God gives you an opportunity to have it, which is definitely not the easy way around. To every person, every inch of personal growth gained comes with its inevitable sidekick: pain. Strength and character are qualities which are not given; they are forged, embedded into a person's identity by sheer fire and adversity. They are forged in the countless encounters in a person's life, particularly those encounters which are inconvenient (euphemistically speaking). Oftentimes, such encounters take various forms: the death of a beloved friend or a family member, financial difficulty, conflicts, or bad luck, none of which are remotely nice.

So that's my dilemma. I pray for strength; I pray for character. But at the same I am afraid of the crucible I have to endure to get what I asked and prayed for.

Belfry

This is a hubris project, I tell you.

My parish is witnessing the construction of a bell tower which will be finished most probably by early next year. 

As to why it needs a bell tower, I don't know. Perhaps, what they will set up in that tower is not a bell after all but a loud boom box, similar to those mosques, where they have speakers attached to towers to transmit their daily prayers.

But my opinion hasn't changed. This belfry project is a hubris project, just as my parish didn't need 10-foot walls when all it needed were tighter locks on its water faucets against squatters who enjoyed free water from its taps.

Hacienda Luisita

Owners should give up the land and distribute it to the workers who actually till the land.

The beneficiaries, the farmers, should pay the government its due so the entire country can be exempt from the expenses incurred for acquiring the plantation from the Cojuangcos. There should be no free lunch even for a case like this.

There. That sums up my opinion about Hacienda Luisita. As if anyone cared.

Piolo

Piolo and KC broke up.

What do I have to say to my namesake (because Paolo and Piolo are quite near actually)?

Well...here goes:

You let KC CONCEPCION go?

What kind of jerk are you? What kind of idiot would break KC Concepcion's heart?

Are you freakin' gay (Sorry, rhetorical question. Just can't resist.)?

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

Then, he would probably answer back: "Who do I think I am? I'm PIOLO PASCUAL. Duh."

Open Letter To Papa

Dear Pa,

Though you are a man of few words (as in really few words), the few words that actually get stuck in family lore are quite significant  (I may be quoting some below quite liberally):

"The best way to love your children is to love their mother"

(when confronted with Lolo Lino's rejection) "Makakuha lang lagi ko ug diploma..."

(talking to Lolo Nonoy)"Pa, ikaw ang modelo, ang modelo nga dili nako pamarisan"

Indeed, there are many others, stuck perhaps inside the repositories of my siblings' minds. My personal favorite is the last one because it not only speaks about your life as a whole but also speaks of mine, inasmuch as I try to emulate you.

You had always maintained that Lolo Nonoy was the biggest reason why you are what you are. It helped of course that you had good peers to begin with but it was Lolo Nonoy, God bless his soul, who fueled your desire to become a better husband, a better father, a better man. That was because you chose to regard him as the model that should not be followed.

As for me Pa, I'm choosing to also have you as my model, the one that I should not follow. That's because if you are a good provider, then I want to be a better provider than you. If you are a good husband and father, then I want to be better than you someday. If you are a good man, then I want to be the best. If you have chosen Lolo as the model that you should not follow, then I am choosing you to be the model that I must exceed.

It is accepted belief that each generation owes much of its progress to the generations that have gone before them. "Bernard of Chartres used to say that we are like dwarfs on the shoulders of giants, so that we can see more than they, and things at a greater distance, not by virtue of any sharpness of sight on our part, or any physical distinction, but because we are carried high and raised up by their giant size."

And it is so for both of us, Pa. For the most part of my life, you were the giant. You were my first superhero and, though you were not perfect, you were always my standard of what it means to be a man. And for everything that I am now, it is because I stood on your shoulders.  Now it is my turn and I would be owing you a great disservice if I choose to act small. You became bigger than Lolo Nonoy could ever be. Now, I'll try to do the same thing by becoming bigger than you.

I love you Pa.

Your son,

Paolo

A Book Project

Earlier this year, I set out a goal that I'll be writing a manual for those who are interested in my job (sort of a primer to ease the newbie into the scheme of things).

It turns out that I've had a change of heart, recognizing the innate futility in my endeavor. I may be able to write the manual and finish it but procedures and processes do change. What I may know about the job now might not be applicable for those who will come after me.

In any case, while I mull over even proceeding further with this project, here's an excerpt (or to be more specific, the introduction) to the book (It's loaded with cliches and idioms though but a little editorial work might wipe some of that off):

"Ako? Nakuha ko man yan in two weeks."

I remember those words like they were said yesterday. Those were the words uttered by a former colleague when I innocently asked how long it took her to master the job. Whether this was a testament to her self-proclaimed genius or her twisted way of motivating me, I'll never know. But, in my case, this statement definitely did not apply. It took me almost a year before I began confidently embracing the intricacies of my position. And even now, I still learn a thing or two every day.

To digress, I was employed before by a consultancy firm in Manila for over a year. We, new hires, were confined in the conference room for an entire week, while being given lectures on corporate culture, product presentations, and other stuff. By the end of our first week, we were more than ready to take on our jobs and all it took was one week of intense, brain-wracking, knowledge bombardment. Then after, we had weekly sessions on skills development and monthly meetings with the CEO to discuss the company's direction.

In contrast, my first week with the bank consisted of reading manuals and asking questions here and there. How much I learned depended on how generous my officer and my colleague was of their time and I was left to fill in the gaps. It wasn't an ideal situation, of course, and stressful mistakes formed a crucial part of my education.

So, if no one has greeted you yet, then I'll greet you first. Welcome to the prestigious school of hard knocks. Unlike our counterparts in OTP (Officer Training Program), we have formal trainings every once in a blue moon. The rest of our training comes from each other and irate clients. It's a hard place to be in but that's the price for working in one of the bank's up-and-coming business centers. And if you're up to it, then you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Before we begin, let me just put in some pointers. First, this is my experience. This book is a crystallization of everything I've learned on the job. Hence, this book does not seek to replace the training manuals you will be reading. This book merely augments what the HR gurus are teaching (or not teaching) you.

Second, some points may raise an eyebrow if you were an auditor. Hence, use your common sense and sound judgment in knowing when and where to defy the rules and when to stand by them. As you grow into this job, you'll be better in spotting the difference. 

And third, after you've digested the book, please, please don't forget to challenge everything I've written down. As I've said, this is my experience. Yet processes can still be improved, tasks can be eliminated, procedures can be streamlined. In sum, I look forward to this book being a catalyst for continuous improvement and I want you to be the star of the show.

Finally, my hope is that this book will help you understand and perform the job better than I ever could. I've made the errors so you won't have to make them. As the cliche goes, let's not reinvent the wheel. 

Enjoy reading.

The Color Of White

White is a paradox. It's the color of the entire spectrum of visible light. It's the color of our visions of heaven. Yet, it's also the color of death, of decay.

Fascinating.

Para Malahi Daw

Dapat daw magsulat nakog maski isa lang ka post kada bulan nga binisaya. Para daw ni masanay nako ug para dili na baluktot akong binisaya nga pirmi nako ginahaluan ug ingles. Hmmm...

Rest In Peace, Lolo Nonoy

Lolo Nonoy passed away. He died of a heart attack. 

Am I sad? No, I guess not. As far as I'm concerned, I do not have a grandfather to begin with. Lolo Lino, my mother's dad, passed away before I was born. Lolo Nonoy and I never had a connection we could hang on to. I was his grandson by name only; I could not recall any memories of so-called "bonding time" between he and I.

For me, Lolo Nonoy was the absentee grandfather. He was the perennial man seated on the corner, staring at the world with bored eyes. It didn't help that much of what was said about him wasn't exactly in praise of his legacy. In fact, he had none to speak of, except of course of how much he has affected his children's lives, including my father's.

So what do I feel? Is this gratitude, perhaps? Gratitude that a life has ended, finally?

I owe this feeling to what one of Lola's friends said,"Maayo pa si Nonoy. Makapahulay na."

And I think that pretty much sums up what I should be feeling anyway. It's gratitude, gratitude for a long life lived. Gratitude for someone who is now resting eternally.

So Lolo Nonoy, do rest in peace. You may not have deserved it but you did earn it. Thank you.

Two Women

Two women are in the headlines. 

Elena Bautista-Horn. Spokesperson for Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. Fiercely loyal to the former president, a quality that has made her many enemies and admirers.

Leila De Lima. Justice Secretary. Defied the Supreme Court by defying its TRO. Showed the nation her guts by standing by her decision despite widespread condemnation among the upper echelons of government and eventually winning in the end with the arrest of GMA. 

Both strong women on either side of the fence.

Defintiely, this has the makings of a good political movie down the road. Let's see about that once this episode in our history has concluded itself.

Rethinking Religion

Thomas Moore, a renowned theologian, had this to say in his essay on Religion:

Religion is an attitude of reverence and a method of connecting to the mysteries that we find in our world and in ourselves.

He proceeds by explaining this definition, saying, "Basically, to be religious is to be capable of awe and respect, two qualities which have disappeared when secularism had begun to dominate...Religion shows us how to be reverent."

I'm sharing this because this definition is a step up from what we commonly associate religion with. In essence, the definition is not only for believers but also for non-believers, who would rather attribute everything there is to the universe instead of a personal omniscient deity (God, in short).

Such a definition also opens itself up to a more open discussion of what religion really is, that is, an approach to life through the lens of tradition and belief.

Wala lang.

Davao's Great Leap Backward

This news simply passed me by. I only knew about it recently when someone dropped this during a conversation. 

From a link:

MANILA, Philippines - Listed Aboitiz Power Corp. (APC) has obtained go signal from the Davao City government to proceed with its 300-megawatt (MW) coal-fired power plant.

In a statement, APC said the Davao City Council issued a resolution, endorsing the P25-billion circulating fluidized bed combustion coal-fired power project of its wholly-owned subsidiary Therma South Inc. on June 7.

Vice mayor and council presiding officer Rodrigo Duterte said the move was in line with a goal to boost power supply in the city.

"We need power for the city. We want this plant inside Davao so we will have control and jurisdiction over it," he said.


Government estimates earlier showed that unless power generation is increased in Mindanao, the region will soon face a shortage. By 2014, the shortage will be around 480 MW—enough to cut the entire power supply of the cities of Davao, Cagayan de Oro, General Santos, Zamboanga and Butuan.

APC assured that its coal plant would provide long-term solution to the power problem, and that the plant would be safe to operate.

APC said Therma South will utilize clean coal technology to reduce harmful emissions to the environment.

Actually, I don't have anything else to say.  I'm sad. I'm frustrated. In this time when all the first-world countries are looking at utilizing renewable energy to address their energy issues, here we are going back to conventional sources to solve our problems.

Make no mistake. I am fully aware that the energy crisis is real. Power shortages will continue to worsen as the deficit grows bigger. But a coal plant is still a coal plant. I don't have to enumerate the disadvantages of having one near Davao City. It's enough that I say that a coal plant is not a good thing to have in this city's future.

What struck me the most about this whole episode is the shortsightedness of our leaders, the sheer lack of imagination among their ranks. True, the coal plant can address the problem immediately and conveniently. But it does so at a cost that this city cannot afford later on.

It also struck me how the opportunity offered by the moment was never seized. The energy crisis could have galvanized a concerted effort among different sectors to search for alternative sources of energy. It could have been a catalyst to jump-start a more widespread transformation of Mindanao's grid. But we have settled for the easier solution, the mediocre one: "Why not simply build a coal plant instead? Besides, is there anything else that we can do?"

Just want to add something to this post:

From this link:

Councilor Pilar Braga, chair of the City Council committee on energy, transportation, and communication, said as far as she knows, Aboitiz has all the legal right to start with the plant construction.

"Wala nakoy labot ato kay nahuman naman ang among trabaho ato (I do not have any information about it because we were done with our job)," Braga said.

I shudder at what she just said (the translation is clearly off though). Pilate, is that you washing your hands?

Rethinking The Cemetery

From an ecological standpoint, cemeteries are a waste of real estate. They are wastelands, with extremely low biodiversity rates. Modern practices of burying the dead have also not made cemeteries more environmentally friendly.

Cemeteries in the Philippines, or 'memorial parks' for those who want to speak fancy,  are oftentimes formerly lush jungles bulldozed over to make way for sprawling green lawns. The loss of foliage is, in itself, disheartening. But trees, especially in the world's tropical regions, are important also in other aspects. One would tell you that they are crucial ingredients in the fight against climate change, acting as naturally occurring carbon pits and agents promoting increased evaporation, two things that generic carabao grass cannot do very well.

The way that we bury the dead is also not friendly to nature. Even in death, we do not want to give anything back. Our dead are buried in the ground, sure, but they are enclosed in concrete tombs, prohibiting any transfer of nutrients from the carcass to the soil.

The way I envision it, cemeteries need to change. Developers of cemeteries need to take into account that their projects can make a good impact on nature if they adhere to certain practices.

First, we need to accept the phrase "ashes to ashes, dust to dust". We need to stop prolonging the inevitable and simply assist nature in its task of converting organic matter from the corpse to usable material for other living things. We have to do away with cement tombs and settle for wooden caskets instead. We also must lessen the use of formaldehyde, a known carcinogen, in our embalming process in favor of more eco-friendly alternatives, which do not leach toxic chemicals into the soil.

Second, we must bring back the trees to our cemeteries. This may be seen as an inconvenience to most, especially to the workers who prepare the ground for burial (since they have to deal with the roots every now and then). But cemeteries with trees equal more shade for visitors and families. Our current idea of a memorial park with green wide lawns is an inherently Western ideal which simply does not work here where the sun shines bright. Oftentimes, visitors have to endure the blazing heat of the sun while commemorating the death of their loved ones simply because the cemetery is one big grassland. With trees, this discomfort is minimized.

Trees, other than providing relief, are also very good habitats for fauna. The cemetery with trees can now serve dual purposes: first, as a repository for the dead and second, as a haven for species who would otherwise be victims of habitat loss.

Third, the cemetery can serve as a garden, or a flower patch to be exact. Now, this is a personal fantasy of mine. 

Imagine yourself walking to a loved one's final resting place. You haven't brought any flowers with you but then again you don't have to. That's because right there on top of your loved one's tomb is a flower patch. This is part of the services of the caretaker; they grow your preference of flowers on that small patch of real estate above where your loved one is lying in peace. So you get to choose your flowers, cut it, and place it on your loved one's tombstone, after which, you say your prayers.

Now, wouldn't that be wonderful?

Shooting Range

There's a first time for everything. 

We were at a shooting range in the PNP's headquarters in Nabunturan. Papa had brought us there to experience firing a live gun. He himself had some practice awhile back when he was in college. They had actual army personnel standing in as their ROTC trainers and, every once in a while, he and his fellow cadet officers would handle some serious ammunition (he mentioned firing from .50 caliber machine guns, among other things) as part of their training.

As for me, I never held nor fired a gun. Back in my PMT days, our officers had mentioned sending us to a shooting range, a promise that never materialized. The closest thing I got to the real thing was holding my Tito Alex's gun during Tita Prining's wake and that gun was even empty (presumably, it was for display only).

I'm not fascinated with guns. But I remember I was quite attentive during the entire lecture given by the resident policeman, who was also our instructor that day.  For one, I work in a bank and if, God forbid, anyone might think of pulling a heist in our branch, at least there will be one employee, apart from the security guards, who could fire a gun as well. That, and the fact that all this was quite novel to me, made me riveted to the instructor's every word.

After the customary lecture, we each took the chance to do some shooting ( I was with Papa, Ate Bating, Rayray, Bulec, and my two cousins, Susno and Awi). My instructor had commended that I had a good stance, as if I was a veteran shooter myself, but the rounds didn't exactly hit the bull's eye. My excuse was that I was near-sighted but the truth is that my hands were pasmado; they kept shaking on their own. It was probably out of excitement because I was pumped up with adrenaline even before I felt the trigger.

I fared better in the second round. And I somehow understood why other people felt such an urge to hold and fire a gun. There's this immense sense of power in that fleeting moment, when your palms cradle the handle and the gun's sights align with your eyes. It's simply addictive.

I'm figuratively replacing the gun back on the table.

If I Were A Developer

There's another subdivision project being developed along Quimpo Boulevard. They've started the landfill about early last year and cutting down a few trees to make way. It's going to be another exclusive subdivision, which is quite ironic since along its supposed boundaries is a barangay full of squatters.

But, I digress. The question for me, this morning, is: what if I were a developer? What would be the defining characteristics of any project I would choose to develop?

So, let's dream, shall we?

If I were a developer, I want to be known, top of mind, as the greenest developer there is. It is a generally accepted fact that the construction industry is among the greatest polluters of all time and I want to change that image. How do I do that? I can start by changing the way subdivision projects are developed.

First stop, location. If I were a developer, I would choose areas which are more or less developed already. These maybe abandoned warehouse grounds, former quarry sites or garages. I would specialize in converting industrial zones into potential residential sites. Definitely, I would lower my costs in development especially if I'm good at lobbying the government to re-zone unused sites. Not only that, I don't have to deal with filling the land anymore or clearing it of vegetation or otherwise solving drainage issues along the way. 

But if I were not so lucky, I would choose sites which will put the least amount of stress on the surrounding environment, such as those near urbanized areas already. That way, I can minimize urban sprawl and habitat loss. I would also make sure that I preserve the majority of trees that are already there, even go as far as adapt my subdivision plan to not disturb their root beds. I would make trees a focal point in my project and will go to lengths to ensure that the roads and the lots do not go through them but instead showcase them as they appear.

Second stop, ceaseless adoption of green technologies. My roads will be made of permeable concrete, which will preserve water quality and reduce water runoff from precipitation. Other than that, my roads will be part of a greater infrastructure to generate clean energy. They will house underground pipes housing fluids, which will absorb the heat taken in by the roads, and, in turn, transfer the collected heat to exchangers which will, in turn again, power turbines to generate electricity.

I'll also make it a point to put in place stricter waste segregation policies and adopt more green technologies as they go, from replacing concrete pavement with greener alternatives or implanting foliage specially know for reducing air pollution and sustaining endemic species.

Third stop, market introduction of green building standards. I'll mainly be catering to high-end clients who put exclusivity and security at the top of their priorities. Why is this important? That's because they'll be more amenable to adopting building codes which, although sustainable, are also expensive. I'll be offering them the opportunity of residing in one of the country's premier subdivision estates in exchange for making their homes more environment-friendly. That means subjecting their building plans to LEED standards and, as a corollary, challenging the local community of architects and engineers to think greener.

Hopefully, this conscious program to raise awareness for green building will have a trickle-down effect, summarily encouraging other local developers to adopt the same standards.

If I were a developer, these will be the things that I will do.Unfortunately, the current developers that we have aren't gifted with the same degree of imagination.

The Ideal Girl

We were on our way home to Davao City after visiting Santa Maria for Weng's wedding. We were on board Ma'am Alav's car. I was with Jonna, Henry, Arnold, and, of course, Ma'am Alav.

Ma'am Alav asked each of us if we were admiring a girl in the office and why. It was katuwaan, a way to while away the time and, pretty soon, everyone was grinning. Then, it was my turn.

Going back, I mumbled something about liking a girl because of her work ethic. Definitely, I was lying through my teeth with that absurd answer (It only showed how uncomfortable I was with the question. Actually, a good work ethic is an admirable quality but it's not something you fall head over heels for).

What should my answer have been, really? If I were to paraphrase Ma'am Alav's question slightly, what is it that gets my attention first? What is it in a girl that will literally tug at my heart?

Unfortunately, that's something I haven't pondered about yet. Let me think about that for a second...

Biking Lanes

How about biking lanes in Davao City?

That's the idea behind the Cycle For Life initiative by MISSION. Aimed at increasing awareness for a more sustainable lifestyle among the citizens of Davao City, it also strives to promote the development of biking lanes in the city's major thoroughfares.

Why biking lanes, you might ask? That's because we are getting there anyway. The transportation system that we have right now is not sustainable in the long run. There's the issue of oil price instability which will only worsen as supply dwindles. Then, there's the huge dilemma of how to fit millions of vehicles in Davao City's already congested streets. In addition, there is the ongoing fight to lessen vehicle emissions and reduce pollution. 

For the rest of us, deciding to traverse the city through bicycles is one of the better options for transportation. Promoting the use of bicycles not only addresses the congestion problem, the obesity problem, the pollution problem, or even our increasing dependence on oil. It also sends a clear image of what this city stands for in terms of priorities; promoting the humble bicycle is our statement that we, Dabawenyos, value sustainable living above all else.

Hence, designating bicycle lanes is the next step in the process. Through bicycle lanes, riders are more protected against vehicles and, with this incentive, more people will be compelled to ride in two wheels.

I don't really know the status of the ordinance seeking the creation of bicycle lanes in Davao City. But for now, bicycle lanes remain a vision, a fantasy, in the city. But if it can help make the vision clearer, here's a New York post about a citizen who has made this vision a reality. 

If she can do it, why not us?

Rethinking The Scholar

I shouldn't be writing this post. Maybe, I'm just pretentious, assuming even. I'm not a scholar. My parents were and my friends shared a bit about their lives as scholars for the country. But that in no way make me an expert in these things.

So, now that I've let that out, let me talk about scholarship grants. The process itself is first an objective then a subjective one. After the preliminary tests to gauge academic ability, the selection process then involves real people, this time, through the form of interviews and/or essay writing marathons. Candidates are assessed by how they conduct themselves during the interview, by their answers obviously, and by the values that they presumably hold. 

For me, I feel uncomfortable with the subjective side of the process. All of us, even expert interviewers, are not exempt from biases and even veteran school administrators hold a certain preference for those candidates who embody the qualities of what they think the ideal scholar should have. The concern here would be the introduction of scholars into the student body who, although brilliant, are quite homogeneous with each other.

I would rather prefer that psychological tests determine the right candidates for the scholarship and that interviews and essays be a mere formality, a method of confirming what the tests have revealed about the candidate. It may seem robotic and straightforward (yes, it is) but this way, I believe, provides a clearer picture of the candidates that a one-on-one or even a panel interview might distort. 

Tests can measure an individual's self-motivation, his or her will to succeed. Tests can measure what values do each one hold and if one has the moral ascendancy to merit a scholarship grant. Interviews on the other hand may be skewed by a candidate's eloquence and charisma, qualities that, although important, should be secondary to a person's attitude towards life and his internal environment (Besides, eloquence and charisma can always be taught. Attitude is another matter altogether).

I may be wrong though. Like I've said, I'm not a scholar. But I hope some would consider my view as something worthy of merit.

A Twisted Sense of Beauty

We are funny. I mean...we men are. When it comes to physical beauty, we are quite infatuated by women who have the wrong characteristics.

For instance, most of us like boobs, big boobs. Some would point to leftover evolutionary instincts which equate cleavage size with reproductive capacity as the reason for this (but I don't buy that reasoning). But big breasts are actually potential health hazards for women. Being heavier, they exert more stress on the muscles, causing occasional shoulder and back pain, not to mention affecting a woman's mobility when she's on the move.

We also like women with fair complexion, often bordering on the anemic.But a light complexion is most often synonymous with low levels of vitamin D, since most women who sport light complexions don't get under the sun often enough.

We love women who are thin, sometimes dangerously thin. But these women are most often anorexics, bulimics, or victims of some other anxiety disorder.

Truly, our standard for beauty is not healthy. The sad thing is some women seem to agree that our standard is just right.

My Take On A Moro-Islamic State

I remember a class I had with Dr. Macario Tiu (T-Mac) back in college. We were discussing Mindanao and the need, or rather, the want for a Moro-Islamic state surfaced in the lecture. He asked me what my opinion was about this burning question: should the Philippine government concede to the wishes of the Muslim secessionists and carve out an Islamic state out of Mindanao? My answer was a firm no, citing that the Muslims weren't ready for self-government.

Ever the sage, T-Mac asked me why and what criteria was I applying. That's when I realized I was seeing the issue from an unacceptable perspective, my perspective. I was speaking as I was, a Filipino citizen on Mindanao's soil. Although my assumption was correct, that Muslims weren't politically fit for self-rule (as evidenced by their leaders' increasing arrogance, corruption, and apathy), I also summarily dismissed their case because they didn't meet the benchmarks that I've arbitrarily set upon them.

Looking back, I think the question is best answered by those who will actually carry the burden of self-rule: the Moro people. They should be the ones who should answer because they are the ones who can assess, for themselves, if they are up to the challenge. They alone can assess their strengths, their weaknesses. In short, they should be the ones setting the criteria, the ones who should be answering the question: Are we ready? Are we ready for a separate state?

The problem nowadays is that the voice of the Moro majority is muffled, distorted. The people who do the talking are the ones who hold the guns, who hold the power. MNLF and MILF rebels push for separatism. Some political warlords push for the same thing. Both claim they represent their constituents but you can never know. The Moro people want peace but, somehow, that message is seemingly lost among their leaders. The Moro people clamor for development and security but, again, that need never comes across.

I cannot speak for the Moro people no more can my fellow Dabawenyo speak for them. But, if there should be any talk about a Moro-Islamic State, I believe the Moro people should be the ones on the negotiation table, not the rebels nor the politicos who claim they know who they stand for.

Taxes And Citizenship

I have a story. 

Ma'am Nora, an activist, approached a lawyer for some advice. Her organization was working on a deal, trying to negotiate the purchase of a property. Some associates had advised her earlier that she should execute two sets of the Deed of Absolute Sale, one for BIR purposes and one for the actual transaction. This was to minimize the tax payments since the Deed of Absolute Sale for the BIR would show a lower selling price than the actual, thus leading to a lower computation of the taxes involved. This was a common practice, they said. 

However, the lawyer Ma'am Norma approached would have none of it. They shouldn't be cheating, he asserted. Embarrassed and impressed at the same time, Ma'am Norma marveled at the lawyer's integrity. 

I cannot remember the name of that lawyer but Atty. Alex Lacson, the author of the yellow little book "12 little things you can do for your country" is espousing the same ideal: Pay your taxes. It's a very Filipino thing to do. 

Never mind the corruption or the fact that the government misuses its funds most of the time. What matters is that you're doing your civic duty. You're doing the right thing and that alone gives you all the moral ascendancy to demand the same from your government.

For me, if you're screwing the government by cheating on your taxes, then you don't have any right to complain when your government screws you back.

Dark Night Of The Soul

 In a TIME article by David Biema, he wrote about Mother Teresa and the inner spiritual life of the saint as written in the book, Come Be My Light.  Contrary to the public image that Mother Teresa and her community had cultivated over the years, the woman herself had persevered through an emotionally depressing period, punctuated by extended bouts of spiritual 'dryness'.

 The book discusses the saint's struggle with a God who seemingly had left her for good, a God who, at the start of her ministry, was omnipresent but was now absent even as she lived through the pinnacle of her ministry's success.

David Biema, in due course, discusses how certain groups, from the atheists, to the psychologists, then to the religious scholars, have explained this paradox. He also mentions St. John of the Cross, the influential Carmelite who wrote in great detail about the stages that one had to go through towards a spiritual union with God.

St. John was the first to coin the phrase, "the Dark Night of the Soul", an intense period where, as per Wikipedia (because it defines it better), "spiritual disciplines (such as prayer and consistent devotion to God) suddenly seem to lose all their experiential value; traditional prayer is extremely difficult and unrewarding for an extended period of time during this "dark night." The individual may feel as though God has suddenly abandoned them or that his or her prayer life has collapsed. It is important to note however that the presence of doubt is not tantamount to abandonment—as there is a strong Biblical tradition of authentic confusion before God. Psalms 13, 22, and 44 display King David, the 'man after God's own heart' undergoing serious confusion before and anguish with God, yet this is not condemned or mentioned as being unfaithful, but rather as the only measure of faith that David could have in the face of such withering apparent abandonment."

Such was, according to some leading theologians, the case with Mother Teresa (although hers was a rarer variety since it went beyond several years).

In Conti's Holistic Christianity, he discusses the stages leading to and from The Dark Night of the Soul:

Active Night of the Senses: God reveals to us Himself through our senses, a period characterized by euphoria and spiritual ecstasy.

Passive Night of the Senses: God withdraws the sensible spiritual delights He had lavished on us during our earliest days of growth, to test our mettle, to attune us to subtler perception of His presence.

Illuminative Way: The ego is now well-oriented to God's will and has constructed a kind of self-made union with God - a good union, but not as deep or abiding a union as God would have us finally know.

Dark Night of the Soul: God dissolves the ego, undoing our self-constructed union with Him to make way for a perfect union.

Unitive Revelation: Peace at last, union with God, as God draws together the elements of our being around Himself who is our new non-egoic center.

Going back, Mother Teresa persevered in her works despite the all-encompassing feeling of abandonment, a fact that, among anything else, highlights her as a true saint. As Kolodiejchuk, a priest and the editor of Come Be My Light, would say, "The tendency in our spiritual life but also in our more general attitude toward love is that our feelings are all that is going on," he says. "And so to us the totality of love is what we feel. But to really love someone requires commitment, fidelity and vulnerability. Mother Teresa wasn't 'feeling' Christ's love, and she could have shut down. But she was up at 4:30 every morning for Jesus, and still writing to him, 'Your happiness is all I want.' That's a powerful example even if you are not talking in exclusively religious terms." 

Why am I writing this post anyway? That's probably because I'm one of the many who are left in the dark, looking for a God who is nowhere to be found. 

Another Encounter To Talk About

Mama calls it self-imposed equality. I call it self-imposed inequality.

I happened to drop by a Minute Burger stall on a Tuesday night. I figured out I should munch some dinner before going home. So I ordered two double burgers with coleslaw and eggs.

When the burgers were halfway done, the attendant checked her freezer to get some eggs. There were none. She could have checked beforehand but she opted to check it when the burgers were almost ready. I thought, 'No problem'. There was a convenience store nearby and I could buy some eggs there. So I told her I'll be back for the burgers.

When I came back with eggs, she told me she couldn't cook them. Her employer was nearby and it was bawal. I would have loved to check her rulebook for that rule but I didn't take my burgers when she asked if I was still buying them.

What's my point? Well, the employee could have seen this encounter as a sales opportunity. Here she had a customer willing to go the extra mile by buying his own eggs (that sounded funny). She could have accepted my offer to have the eggs cooked, charged me P5.00 for the 'use' of the grill, and I would have just shrugged my shoulders. At least, I had my burgers with coleslaw and eggs. Instead, she lost a sale because she couldn't, wouldn't accommodate my request.

She could also have provided me with advance notice that eggs were out. She was in charge of inventory after all and it was so easy to check her freezer before cooking those burgers.

Mama and I discussed about this the following morning and she concluded that, perhaps, what accounts for the great divide between the rich and the poor is purely a difference in mindsets. It boils down to a person's mentality. The opportunities are every present; it's simply a matter of recognizing these and utilizing these opportunities. 

In the case above, the employee never had a chance. She wasn't thinking like her amo would, who would probably be happy if she converted one cooking effort into a sale despite missing some eggs. It also probably explains why some employees do remain employees and some persons go out to becoming successful businesspeople.

Something About Aging And Man's Propensity For Good

Just want to share something from what I read.

In an essay by Gay Luce, she mentioned an inevitable transformation among people as lifespans become longer and longer thanks to medical advances:

We will be too long on Earth to embrace our old character deficiencies, like characters in a sitcom, pretending to be what we are not or grasping and competing for material accumulations. We will outlive the naivete that allowed us to believe cultural promises about the way life should be. Upon reaching age 120, the strident clamor of passionate selfishness simply may not be worth the effort...

Eventually, the sheer accumulation of experience will begin to wear out our demands. The nature of the prize will change. The inevitable next step, I believe, will be a default process of spiritual realization. Rogues and wastrels, over time, can become saints. We may not set out to embody goodness, but with the years, goodness becomes of us.

If only this were true, right? You're probably recalling all those grumpy elderly people in your childhood years.

But I do believe in what Gay Luce has said and, harking back to this post's title, this excerpt definitely points back to our basic nature; that we are essentially good and predisposed to doing good. As we age, all the corruption, the bad habits, the wrong assumptions, the self-defeating exercises of the mind, will simply be swept away as the years provide us with enlightenment and ultimately self-awareness and self-mastery.

Even then, the prospect of death will provide us focus on what is essential to our life's meaning and purpose. From striving for success, we now strive for significance as what Lloyd Reebe would say.

Friday Night

This has happened to me twice already.

Downtown is always a bad place to be when you want to go home on a rainy Friday night. Earlier this year, I was waiting for a jeep along Quimpo Boulevard. After several minutes trying to hail a jeep, I figured that I'd just ride a taxi. So off I walked to Bolton, amidst the pouring rain, mind you, since there are probably taxis waiting outside Jollibee Bolton. To my dismay, no taxis were in sight. So I walked the length of Rizal Street to stop at Quirino fronting Davao Doctors Hospital. I presumed again that there may be taxis in the vicinity of Gaisano South Mall or along Quirino. Fortunately, there was a taxi, perhaps fresh from unloading a passenger, and I went home after one and a half hour of trying in vain.

Yesterday, the same thing happened. I got dropped off at Quirino by a colleague and the same dilemma surfaced. Just like before, hundreds of people thronged the sidewalks of Davao City, waiting for that elusive jeep or taxi to emerge from the downpour. But the jeeps were packed and taxis were rare. As for me, I've learned my lesson. If I wanted to have a chance at getting home before 10 PM, I had to go back to where the jeeps were about to turn around and resume their routes after dropping off most of their passengers along the way. I had to go back to the source, so to speak. So off I went to Roxas Boulevard. But jeeps were still rare even there that I had to walk almost the entire length before a jeep mercifully unloaded a passenger to accommodate me. 

Someday, I'm going to own a car.

Slightly Depressed

It's unfair.

An account turns sour and the client complains and the boss hears of it. An account goes well and the client earnestly begins to thank and praise you in private. Truly, a case of  a single bad apple making the entire fruit basket suspect.

It's unfair. But then, so is life.

My Sister Is Engaged

...to a stranger.

To someone I barely know. I mean, the guy never did reveal himself to us.He was simply the 'wallflower': the inanimate object sitting at our sala set with a downloaded movie stored in his flash disk or the guy sitting beside my sister during the mass. Looking back, he never did make us feel comfortable with his presence and, even today, I could not recall any meaningful conversation with the guy I'll later call my brother-in-law.

But then again, I love my sister. And I guess part of loving is trusting that your loved one has a good sense of judgment when it comes to finding a husband.

Jeepney Fare

I don't know why the LTO is obssessed with centavos.

In their fare matrix, they've deliberately placed centavos in their computation knowing full well that the passengers and the jeepney drivers can't comply with this. For one thing, virtually nobody carries around twenty cents or a denomination smaller than one peso when they travel around.

I think the jeep drivers are privately happy about this, though. For instance, the minimum fare for students is P6.40 (I think). So the drivers conveniently take P7.00 from the passenger instead simply because, as mentioned, nobody carries centavos anymore. If we Dabawenyos were less tolerant to perceived injustices like this, the LTO would have been deluged a long time ago by numerous complaints about drivers not following the LTO's matrix.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Wedding

First time in Santa Maria, a town south of Malalag in Davao del Sur. Attended a wedding by a colleague, Weng. Just writing this post to note some traditions observed during the event.

The newlyweds giving out treats in exchange for money. Check.
The newlyweds dancing in front while various people pin money on them. Check.
Avoiding the bouquet. Check.
Avoiding the garter. Check.
Picking a couple from the audience using the garter and bouquet to, well, hopefully be the next couple. Check.
Sumptuous feast of murdered livestock. Check.
A barricade of godmothers and godfathers. Check.
An even bigger group of friends, family members, and colleagues. Check.

It's good some Pinoy traditions are here to stay.

The RH Bill 2

 Just bringing up this article from the CBCP. Below is an excerpt:

Pangasinan Rep. Kimi Cojuangco, co-sponsor of the bill (House Bill No. 4244, otherwise known as the RH bill), was interpellated by Zambales Rep. Ma. Milagros Magsaysay, at times responding with arrogance over points in which she apparently was not well-versed but swiftly making an admission that surprised even her co-RH proponents.

“Is [the RH bill] a population measure?”

“Of course.”

“Of course? It’s a population measure? To curb poverty, do you need to curb population? In your eyes?”

“Definitely.”

“In other words, you are contradicting the position of all your other co-sponsors there who said that this is not a population measure, that this is not a poverty alleviation measure.”

The Pangasinan congresswoman paused for a few seconds before saying, “Well, it’s not a population… ay, it is a population measure but it’s not population control.”

After a few more moments of silence in the hall, Cojuangco insisted, “It’s a population measure but it’s not population control.”

The article also mentions the MCW, or the Magna Carta of Women "which Magsaysay repeatedly pointed out was an existing law that already addresses the concerns Cojuangco mentioned as reasons why an RH law in her opinion was necessary, such as the need for more birthing facilities, maternal health services, to name a few."

Furthermore, the article narrates the debate that ensued between Magsaysay and Cojuangco. While Magsaysay notified the congress that there was an existing law that addressed the concerns of the RH bill, Cojuangco nevertheless insisted that the seemingly ineffective application of the law's provisions is cause enough for congress to pass the RH bill. Magsaysay had the final say though when she argued back that what was needed was a stricter implementation of the MCW by the government, not another law altogether.

In line with Magsaysay's argument, I also believe that the RH bill shouldn't be passed for the simple reason of redundancy. We have an existing law in the form of the MCW which, given enough resources and focus by the local government, is potent enough to promote and improve the reproductive health of our women brethren. By introducing the RH bill, we are setting ourselves up for double failure, with two laws, aimed at solving the same problem, scrounging for the same limited supply of resources. That's a recipe for disaster.

We're smarter than this. Or are we?

It's A Girl

This was so easy. It's my first time to embed a video in a blog post so forgive me for my ignorance.

Self-congratulatory pat-backs aside, I came across this video of an all-too-real reality in some parts of the world. It's a teaser about a documentary film reporting on 'gendercide' or the mass killing of female babies, most especially in China and India.

This is plain wrong. But what's even disturbing is that almost entire societies, save for some stalwart human rights advocates, approve of these silent murders. I'm angry right now. I just can't fathom the depravity inside the persons responsible for the killing of these innocents.

Motherhood

I wish I was a woman.

That was a point of realization. It happened when I was with my colleagues at work in a private maternity room. We were all gazing at the small bundle of innocence and bliss lying on the bed as Alex, the newly-anointed mother, narrated to us the excruciating experience of her childbirth.

She was talking to us how painful everything was. Hers was supposed to be a normal delivery, which turned out to be not so normal after all. First, she lost almost all her water and went into dry labor. Contractions then were like arrows from hell. Second, the baby got 'stressed', went into fetal distress, and she had to do a Caesarean delivery.But through it all, when she heard and saw her baby, everything was simply swept away.

Through it all, I simply wondered: what was it like? Although I could approximate, albeit barely, the entire experience, my sex limits me from living through one of life's most paradoxical, most joyous moments. Sadly, you only get to live once and delivering a baby will never be crossed out of my bucket list.

Kudos to you mothers. 

Praying The Rosary

I've been praying the rosary ever since I was young. The rosary was a staple of my family's spiritual life, especially during the month of October when the devotion was set anew.

Mama had a story about the rosary, one that involved her father, my late Lolo Lino. She was complaining about praying the rosary, claiming that it was boring and repetitive. My lolo simply pointed out an analogy of the bus' wheels. The bus is on a journey and, like any other journey, the bus has to reach a destination. In order to reach a destination, the bus' wheels had to do their thing, which is to keep turning round and round until the bus gets to the place. This is the same thing that happens with the rosary. We pray the same prayers over and over again so we can reach that special destination.

I also came to a point where I questioned the whole thing. Praying the rosary was hard work; it was a chore. What made it look uglier was that praying it was coerced. I had no choice because, as mentioned, it was the staple prayer of the family. I also did not find any meaning in praying a very "unnatural" prayer, silently citing Matthew 6:7 as proof that I was right.

But my attitude changed. All it took was a little education, of course. The rosary was, for all intents and purposes, a guide to meditation. It wasn't a prayer per se but a tool to meditate on the Mystery found in each decade. Technically, the rosary was a litany of prayers, whispered repeatedly, as one's mind transcended its verbal utterances and delved into the depths of the Mysteries of Christ's life and God's love.

However, despite this, I cannot say I'm a fan of praying the rosary. Perhaps, I prefer a different kind of prayer, one that would suit me more. Still, one cannot discount the immense power it holds on many of the faithful and how it has nourished generations of Catholics over the years.

There's Something About Boracay

I'm not an expert on Boracay or anything but I'm pretty glad we went there during the off-season (read: the "-ber" months). Otherwise, we would have to contend with traffic and lots of people. Sure, we could have had a good time ogling at the many celebrities if we went during the summer, but we also could have wrestled with the steeper prices of accommodations and rides (which is never fun).

Having been to the place, what can I say? What is there in Boracay that is so special? Well, let me first describe it by saying what it's not.

If you are every bit the eco-tourist, then Boracay is not for you. We fed the fish and saw some birds and bats but that was it. You're better off going to Palawan where the fish are bigger or to other secluded resorts in the Philippines which sport wilder varieties of fauna.

If you like the beach, Boracay's white sand coastline may suit you well (although there are many white beach resorts in the country which can boast of the same thing). Just don't go during the peak season, where all sorts of weeds reportedly spring up because of pollution.

What does make Boracay special are the many establishments that dot its shoreline. It's amazing. You can choose from so many restaurants, hotels, and bars in the area that you'll simply be bewildered by the staggering variety of choices. 

In addition, Boracay also sport several rides, which can only be found there. 

It's ironic, really. Boracay is Boracay not because of the place itself but because of the many people who have made the place something worth visiting.

Airports

Ahhh. The airport. The second home for most businessmen, right next to hotels. Just some observations I want to put out in the open: 

Why can't one bring an umbrella, especially a telescopic one, inside one's carry-on luggage? This one boggles me. Some would point out that umbrellas pose a security risk since they can be used as improvised weapons, as if only selected objects can be used as killing devices by the most determined murderer. In our trip to Iloilo, Grace requested that I keep her umbrella in my baggage since it's not allowed by airport personnel. In our return trip to Davao, I was advised by the security staff to deposit my umbrella in the baggage counter (which I promptly ignored) when they saw I was carrying it in my carry-on bag. 

My take is that maybe the airport staff are either just a bit paranoid or they don't really understand the logic behind the prohibition. The TSA or the Transport Security Administration of the United States actually allow umbrellas as carry-on baggage once they have been inspected to ensure that prohibited items are not concealed. So, if the TSA, the department tasked with overseeing post-9/11 security measures across all airports in America, can allow umbrellas as carry-on baggage provided they don't harbor any illegal or dangerous stuff, I see no reason why their Philippine counterparts have to be so rigid with regards to umbrellas. 

Second, I have finally seen another airport (Iloilo's) apart from NAIA and Davao City's Bangoy and one word summarizes what I have seen: Boring. The architecture, though sleek and reminiscent of the airplanes the building services, is quite monotonous. It's as if there was only architect commissioned to design each and every one of the country's airports. From the roofing structure down to the flooring, everything is roughly the same. I don't know if there are a set of rules governing airport design and thus dictating that they all come from the same cookie cutter. But our airports can really benefit from a dose of creativity and color should renovation be waiting around the corner. 

Finally, Kit shared his story a long time ago about one of his flights back to Manila. He was sitting beside a gay man and he was clearly troubled that this man just kept using his cellphone right before take-off. Alarmed, he told the man to shut the thing off to which the man promptly retorted that his cellphone was on flight mode. Flight mode? Apparently, Kit did the right thing by giving the man the benefit of the doubt. Flight mode is actually a setting in most advanced cellphones which disables the device's ability to place or receive calls or send or receive text messages. That was the first time I heard of such a setting. Unfortunately, my cellphone doesn't have one.

Days In Bora

Day 1 

On the way to the airport after just an hour of sleep. Grace and Henry are probably silently cursing at me. I assume both are paranoid that we won't make the flight (Flight's at 7:30 AM. It's still 5:15AM). As if I haven't been there before. Okay, we're now in the airport. Saw Ma'am Anne who is also on vacation. First time I've been back in the airport since 2009. Nothing's changed, though. Liftoff. Tried a variety of things to pass time. Read a book (but stopped because I was too sleepy. Read the inflight magazine (same thing). Settled for taking a nap. Touchdown. Iloilo. Went to the dormitory to freshen up. Deposited our luggage. Rested for awhile. Time to stroll. Breakfast at Andok's (Just like Manila eh?). Picture taking at the nearby plaza and church. Went back to the dorm to catch some more sleep. On the way to SM Iloilo. Brought with us our pasalubong for Ma'am Miren. Lunch at Punsyon based in Plazuela. First oyster (talaba) experience. Off to the Business Center. Nice office. Better than Davao's, I believe. Greeted Ma'am Miren. Had a chitchat with Sarah, their marketing assistant for Housing, over a possible collaboration on a TQ project I had in mind. Whiled away the time. Being introduced to the Operations Team. Having coffee at Coffeebreak, waiting for Ma'am Miren after office hours. Dinner with the rest of the BC team at Y2K. More oysters. Then drinking session at Lanai in Smallville. with the BC team. Then off to Aura for some music. At near dawn, we're busy sipping batchoy at Ted's. Off to the dorm once again for some shuteye. 

Day 2 

Couldn't sleep still. Woke up a shade before 3 AM. Tried waking up everyone. At 5 AM, in a van on the way to Kalibo. Almost slept through the whole trip. Breakfast at Jollibee's then it's off to Caticlan. On a boat bound for Boracay. This is it. Upon reaching the island, we went straight to B & B. Tried to recover lost sleep but had to wake up for lunch. Strolled down White Beach, gawking at the many shops and restaurants lined across the shoreline. Lunch at Mang Inasal (Grrgghh. We're here to sample food! Not visit the same restaurants you can see in Davao!). Observing Sir Ramy negotiate our rides. Off to the other side of the town. Now the sky is weeping. Great, sunburn won't be a problem. First speedboat experience. First helmet diving/reef walking experience. Nice. Couldn't wipe off my smile for the whole duration of the dive. Back to the island. A brief swim, sampling Bora's beach. Many people, despite this being the off-peak season. On to B& B for a shower. Dinner at Andok's (Aarrghghgh!). A night spent watching MYX, Bubble Gang, etc. Zzzz... 

Day 3 

Woke up early again, this time for our island hopping trip. Boatman gave us a roundabout of the nearby island before settling in on a dive spot. Then, we're off to Boca Beach, which is more pristine by the way compared to White Beach. Early lunch at a nearby restaurant. Back to civilization, after a morning of island/s touring. Onwards to riding the ATVs. Fun ride, although the guide could have given us a bit of leeway (like allowing us to overtake and do other things with the ATVs). Then another swim, this time our last. Off to shower. Took awhile since there were now seven of us for the only bathroom in our room, having checked out of our first room early that morning. Last stroll along White Beach. Had a henna tattoo, which spelled "Life" in Kanji (or so they tell me). Buffet dinner at a nearby hotel. 

Day 4

Early again for our boat ride back to Caticlan. Breakfast at a karinderya near the wharf (nice food). Then, the long trip to Iloilo. Had to stop somewhere because Sir Ramy had an emergency. Back to dorm. Slept again. Then off to church for my first Ilonggo mass. Proceeded to SM to meet up with the rest of the gang. Really late lunch/Dinner at Ocean City. Last stroll at Smallville. Listening to live music at Pirates. Back to dorm. 

Day 5

Early at the airport. Breakfast at the airport lounge. Boarding for Davao City. Met clients Sir Rommel and Ma'am Cindy, now a freshly minted couple. Visited Davao BC to drop off our pasalubong. On a trip back home with Henry and Anton. Bora trip officially over.

An Ilonggo Mass And A Flat Screen TV

There's a first time for everything. 

I finally attended an Ilonggo mass. Although I could follow the proceedings, there were still some parts when I was left hanging trying to figure out what the priest was trying to say. Still, I have to say Ilonggo is a fascinating language to learn if I only had the patience and the time.

In addition, check this out: 

The patrons of this church in Iloilo must really be wealthy. That's a flat screen TV on a pillar to guide the churchgoers on what to recite or sing during the mass. And there are at least eight of these in the entire church. Amazing, huh? My first time as well.

Iloilo

I didn't know it was there but I did feel giddy riding a jeep while people around me talked in an alien language which I alone could not understand. I was in Iloilo, of course, but I could have been in a parallel universe where people talked gibberish. It was fun overhearing those tiny murmurs, trying to decipher what they actually meant.

This was the first time I've been to Iloilo. The closest I got before was when I was in those Superferry rides bound for Manila, where the ship had to dock in Iloilo's port to load some cargo.

Our stay though was quite brief since our main itinerary was really Boracay. But we had quite a sampling of their local cuisine which, given the small sample size (I could count with one hand the restaurants we've been into) may not be quite conclusive but is nevertheless indicative of what Iloilo had to offer for the occasional food connoisseur.

First, God made oysters and God made sure anyone visiting Iloilo had them in plenty. As mentioned in a previous post, this was the first time I tasted these and they tasted great. The restaurants in Iloilo also featured dishes which, though they may be common fare in the city, are never seen in Davao (but, unfortunately, I cannot remember the names of those dishes although I fancy asking a waitress or two what we were eating exactly). 

Plus, who knew you could build a restaurant chain on a simple dish called batchoy? Hmmm...

We also caught a glimpse of the local night life, courtesy of the Iloilo business center pipz. They had this large strip of real estate where all the bars, clubs and pubs were cloistered together as opposed to Davao's night scene where the night spots are scattered all over downtown. 

Sir Tata, a resident (and someone who bore an uncanny resemblance to Hayden Kho), talked about how, given the condensed space, each establishment had to cater to a certain demographic, down from the masa up to the elite. His lecture certainly served as a classic case for market segmentation and niche specialization, that is, if he were really serious about what he explained to me.

One thing I learned still is that Ilonggos are not really into videoke. On our last night in the city, we tried to look for cheap videoke to while away the time. What we found was a high-end videoke bar. I could deduce that perhaps a.) we didn't look hard enough for a videoke that suited our budget or b.) demand for videoke was not that strong because supply sported a high price and vice versa.

Well, that's it for Iloilo, which has been very good to us. Until the next trip, hopefully soon.

Photography

By the way, I'm not the model. That's Rodel. This was taken during my trip to Boracay with my office mates. 

Anyway, this picture really got me to think of seriously pursuing photography as a hobby. I wasn't a cam-whore by any charge (that's Clinton's term for those who want to be in every picture every time. In Tagalog, mga garapal sa kamera). So I might well be a photographer, someone who is content with looking at things from the other side of the lens.

I was lucky that the sea was (and is always) a good backdrop for any photo. I remember trying to find a focal point across the entire horizon when I chanced upon Rodel looking at a boat being hauled to shore. I immediately knelt and, since the camera was a point-and-shoot type (no more tinkering), I shot this. Lighting left much to be desired (it was drizzling with clouds shrouding the sun) but I was nevertheless happy with the photo.

Now, I understood the visceral joy of being a photographer, of perfectly capturing a moment that's soon to flee.