basted.

I wonder why libraries do not reciprocate my love for books.

I was beginning to form a negative impression on ASchoolI’dRatherNotName a few hours ago even before I went there. These weird vibrations came to me even when I was just sitting on the jeepney heading for Iloilo City.

Rewind.

My thesis partner and I planned on visiting this school’s library for our paper. We did the necessary formalities which were required of us—checked and double-checked the ASchoolI’dRatherNotName’s library availability—and went there as early as our lazy feet brought us. Since we arrived too late for lunchtime (12:40PM), we took photos of our weird selves first. By some crazy thingamajig, we were informed that the library will not cater to researchers until 2PM that day. Goodness, they could have informed us earlier so we would not have wasted our time waiting for them to finish their business.

A bit upset and disappointed, we headed to the Center for West Visayan Studies and decided to do our research there first. Half past two, we headed back to the ASchoolI’dRatherNotName library. I erased the remaining traces of smile in my face and showed I had this bitchy side when faced with useless rules.

The baggage counter boy, who informed us of the 2PM library availability, was not briefed properly. Clearly, there has been a misunderstanding and my thesis partner and I were in the middle of the chaos. Shit, I thought.

Good thing, their assistants were objective people. They were helpful enough to explain the rules and help us search for the books that we need. But I vowed that unless my thesis will die, I won’t visit that library again.

of building rapport

At 10:00 AM today, the high school students of Miag ao National High School and Palaca-Damilisan National High School arrived at the doorstep of the ILC.

CyberFace: The Beauty and the Beast Forum will—and must start—in a few minutes.

We, the fourth year BA CMS students under Prof. Vargas organized this seminar as our culminating activity for CMS 198, a subject discussing Contemporary Issues in Media. Since the over-used yet highly imperative and obviously the most prolific medium was the Internet, we decided to delve into its most pressing issues about the five basic social structures—economy, politics, education, religion and family.

As our audience were high school students, my partner and I expected that all the other reporters to discuss in English and Hiligaynon. But when the forum started, most of our classmates were speaking in straight English. Hmm…this is getting too formal, I thought, as I looked behind me and saw that some students were avoiding the eyes of the reporters or were busy doing something else—putting on eyeliner, scribbling and chatting gaily with their seatmates.

I cannot blame them, nor do I blame my classmates. When politics or laws and policies enter the picture, the line between sleep and consciousness is blurred. But sometimes, if we can avoid it, why not speak a few familiar Hiligaynon sentences?

Building rapport is sometimes compromising. When the forum topics—or the teacher—expects you to deliver your topic in fluid and flawless English, more often than not, you lose connection with your audience. What then, is the point of the seminar? Isn’t it to inform?

Standing in front is never easy as well. You tongue should work as fast as your mind. If something uncalled for happens, what do you do? A little dead air can leave your audience on the edge of the cliff, ready to fall if you cannot pull them away from it. Who cares if your grammar is puberty-awkward? Who cares if you mispronounce words as long as both you and the people you are addressing meet at a certain level of understanding? Isn’t it something to shrug off afterwards?

Sometimes it is not always about following the rules. It is also about connecting with your audience and making them feel like you are talking to each of them—even if it yields a not-so-good grade.

Congratulations to my batchmates! We survived CMS 198—with flying biscuits. 

how would you like to see your laptop: crash or junked?

More than any other course perhaps, it is us, Communication and Media Studies students of UPV who are most often the victims of this kind of virus.

Flu virus? Mmm…could be, but not much.
Varicella-zoster virus? Once in our lives yes, but not really the answer I was pertaining to.
Herpes? Hope not.
HIV? No, duh.
Worm? Yes, the virtual kind.

In fact, out of 29, only 15 of us have not yet seen their laptops crash. 7 of those 15 have no laptops of their own. That is how frequent we see our classmates moping over home works and video editing assignments because they were still waiting for their laptops to be repaired.

For fear of viruses, I had my laptop installed with a good antivirus (Kudos to Maicah!), Avast!. It scans every time I turn my laptop on. Aside from that, a good friend suggested two other softwares: Window Washer Version 6.5 and Tune-Up One-Click Maintenance. Both remove unwanted and unnecessary files and recovers extra space. They are compatible with my antivirus.

Call me paranoid, but I would not like to see my laptop (Bakoy) crashing in a few more years. I would scan and ‘wash’ everyday if can remember. I would also turn on my Windows Defender software to scan for recoverable items and threat detections.

I remember one time, that in the middle of burning a video file due 3o minutes ago, my friend’s laptop crashed. She stared blankly at the monitor for a few minutes before realizing that it had no intentions of booting up. Even with the room temperature at 24C, she was sweating profusely. Good thing the teacher was considerate.

If germs are good for the body, then this kind of germ definitely isn’t—for the computers, at least. Viruses are doing a very good job of giving thrill to the crammer. Sometimes, its existence confuses me. Did antivirus companies created them on purpose so they could earn from it? Capitalism ring a bell?

One thing is for sure though: virus will continue to exist as long as there is capitalism for the Internet. Saddle up, laptop owners, and get yourselves a good antivirus. If all else fails, there is always the term ‘reformatting’.

falling in love with Filipino writing

However mildly cruel, stone-faced or unreasonable the UPV librarians may be, my feet will still find its way back to the library in search of a good book, especially on Philippine Anthologies. This treasure-hunting activity is an influence of my lovely friend, Bemjo (who has not updated her blog for weeks now :P), who has faithfully visited the asphyxiation-causing library.

Because of this, I learned of Cristina Pantoja-Hidalgo, Paz Latorena, Jose Dalisay Jr., Susan Lara and Eli Ang Barroso among others. Their written masterpieces are as historically important as the discovery of our country.

Filipino 12 and PI 100 further magnified this love. The library introduced me to the works of Rio Alma (Virgilio Almario) and Jose Iremil Teodoro. Looking for Rizal-related books, I had simultaneous flings with Nick Joaquin, Gregorio Zaide, Rafael Palma and Ambeth Ocampo. Of all of these flings, I am most infatuated with Ambeth Ocampo.

There is so much to love about the Philippines, I discovered. We are a country of amazing pen-holders, recognized and unrecognized. We are in the land of descriptive, witty, versatile and effective writers. Too bad, only a few of us requite their contributions.

Realizing this, I am thinking of taking up Creative Writing when I graduate (and rich enough to do so). Or, in the very least, put up a publishing company (dedicated to Filipino writing) so I can read books for free. Now, why did I take up CMS instead of Literature? * Hahaha!

Writing moves people. It is tragic, melodramatic and witty (or it might be sloppily done), but it inspires people. It keeps us company in bed, in buses, during the lonely nights, and even in the bathroom. I believe that all my positive attitudes are coming out when I am writing or reading Filipino works.

When all of my foreign-written books are moth-infested or drowned by some random flash flood, I will stay sane reading Filipino masterpieces. Classic is what becomes of them.

*So I can be rich enough to take Literature and be available to faithfully dedicate my time towards writing. But do not get me wrong, CMS is still my first love. :D

iWRITE

I am a writer. I write about anything I find interesting, irritating, relevant or a combination of all of them. I write not for myself, but for others to feel that there is freedom in writing; that writing makes birds fly freely and trees sway to the sound of the summer wind.

I am a writer. I breathe, digest and excrete ideas into something readable for Homo Sapiens who, more or less, have the same line of thinking as I do. When I write, the world conspires with me and together, we breathe the same words which keep the balance .

I am a writer. I criticize things and do not accept them as they are. People do not think for me, but I think for them through my writings. I look at loopholes and try to look at why they exist.

I am a writer. I inspire people to read and think. I create a world which consists of an unending array of questions and answers. I create, recreate; develop and redevelop. I inspire people to think about what I wrote, thus I am devoid of uselessness.

I am a writer. In my hands is the responsibility of voicing out my opinion on the various things around me. In my pen lies the instrument of peace which I write about. In my heart, the power to convince, persuade, react, entertain and challenge ideas.

I am a writer. Until I begin to abuse the power of my pen, I am protective. Until I begin to think like the dragon that eats the entirety of unshared ideas, I am free. Until I begin to digest foreign thoughts selfishly and denounce my own, I am Filipino.

I am a writer. And that makes me dangerous. :D

boy witty: 10 years from now

Dreams make it happen, they say. But its money that buys the cement.

If I weren’t a Communication and Media Studies major, I would probably be in the field of/become a:

• Forensics. I am a voracious consumer or mystery/adventure novels ever since I was twelve. Sheldon, Kellerman, Dixon, Brown, Patterson, you name it. Forensics experts were really a picture of awe for me. They can identify a person’s age through his teeth, hair, etc. I love Science, but the formula, equations, number –related problem-solving that it brings along with it turns me off.
• Interior Designing. I love how the proper lighting brings out the beauty of a particular part of a house, and most especially, I love to bring out the beauty of the different parts of the interior of the house. My favorite is Zen-contemporary (a mix of wood, metal and cement). And I want a pond. If I am wealthy enough to waste some money, I would enrol myself in this course.
• Fashion Designing. Next to being an interior decorator, I love fashion designing. When I was a kid, I dreamt of being a model, but then I realized that what I really want is to design clothes FOR the models, because it is the clothes that create an identity for these models. I want to create classic, chic and breezy pieces which my fellow Filipinos can be proud of. Unfortunately, I have yet to learn how to use the sewing machine.
• Ice Cream vendor. Ever since I was a kid, I dreamt of being an ice cream vendor. Not an ice cream factory owner, but a vendor. I want to scoop for the kids and eat some of my ice cream if nobody is looking.
• Restaurateur. I still have to figure out what I am going to sell, though. But my father says that there are only three businesses which are not affected by seasonal changes or are sure to gain the same steady flow of cash: drug stores, hard ware and the food business. So, hopefully, I’ll open a Boy Witty Ristorante or something which a title that sucks like that.
• Bookstore owner. Actually, this one is what I really want to pursue if ever I’ll be cranky enough to lose some bucks. My book store will not be profit-oriented; it will be more of a “read-for-free-then be-sure to-buy-it-afterwards” bookstore. There will be soft mats and cushions and free drinks for everybody! Hahahaha! But there’s an entrance fee of P100. LOL.

So, there you have it. If ever I get tired running after some big-bellied politician’s van trying to get an interview about his choice of boxers, I’d probably be in any of these occupations.

isang araw, pumunta kami sa City Proper, kami ay nawala

“People can be helpful. In fact, they are more afraid of being called unhelpful than unreliable”.

This I learned when a friend/classmate and I went to Iloilo City last Wednesday to personally hand-in the letters for an event which we helped organize with SM City Iloilo.

There are only 10 of us enrolled under this advertising class and we were divided into five teams targeting five main areas in Iloilo City: Molo, Jaro I, Jaro II, Mandurriao and City Proper. Fortunately for Jennie and I, we got the City Proper area, with only 11 letters to deliver. Plus, I think I have scoured that area oftentimes to look for cheap materials for school. Unfortunately for us—and unlike all the other teams—the schools in City Proper were generously distanced from each other.

Off we went, hands laden with letters and some posters to give away. The first few schools were easy to find (we had a ‘plan of action’ the night before, to save on fare and of course, effort). The principals, guards, and school staff were accommodating and gracious. Even the traysikad drivers were adept at erasing our doubts when it comes to approximating distances. When there were only three schools left however, it seems fate wanted to add thrill to our adventure.

After all, Mr. Sun made sure that heat and UV rays were not a problem.

We were looking for a school with the acronym UUCP Nursery and Kindergarten School. From Montes I Elementary School, a kind canteen attendant informed us that we should ride a Parola Jeepney up to Corner Valeria, then ride a Mandurriao/Hibao-an PUJ to Go Pun Building where we should ask for directions on how to get to Corner Delgado-Liberation Street.

First glitch: We rode the wrong jeepney. The good thing was, as we were about to pay, the passengers informed us of our mistake.

Second glitch: Most Parola Jeepneys going to Corner Valeria were full. The good thing was, Manong Sari-Sari Store(we forgot to ask his name) negotiated with the traysikad driver to bring us to Cor. Valeria for only 20 pesos.

Third glitch: The two guards, one gasoline attendant, two passersby, one tindera, two college girls, one tambay, one family of seven, three government workers and three grade school students gave us false/lacking/unsure information. So for an hour and a half, Jennie and I were going to and from different ‘eskinas’ in Delgado, Fuentes and one other street (I forgot its name due to severe tiredness and thirst).
THERE IS NO ‘The good thing was…’ HERE.

Fourth glitch: Our feet were about to give up. Even the occasional jeepney rides could not make up for the long walks and the pain of discovering that we went to the wrong street.

The sound of the bell at Sun Yat Sen, the last school we went to, signalled that our task was finally over (and we can now die). It made Jennie and me jump for joy (we forgot how tired our feet were). Somehow the feeling of riding the jeepney that will take us to Robinson’s Mall—our last stop before heading home—is very satisfying.

See, people were really helpful. The heads of schools were very grateful that we took time to deliver the letters personally. Ocassional “diin kamo makadto day haw (Where are you girls heading)?” and “Ah, sa (insert name of street here) na siya (That’s in _________)” occupied my near-tired mind before I fell asleep riding the ‘home-y’ familiar PUJ bound for Miag ao.

For an enjoyable and tiring yet very fulfilling errand, I sure would like to do it again—as long as it does not rain, though. 

Enrolment Pains

_______
Four first semesters have already passed by, yet I still find the enrolment “where-to-go’s” a very hard thing to keep in mind.

Every semester, I would be with my friends-enrolling in almost the same classes, queuing up for the same long lines and chatting away in the heat of the day. But when it comes to “Hey, where do we go next?”, we simply would lose it.

Every semester, we would take no breakfast, because we know that there would be time for one while waiting or our number to be called out. And we were always right.

Every semester, we would meet the same old lady who mans the same old office with the same old framed picture of a famous quotation. Then she would ask us, “What year are you in?” And the same, increasing feeling of shyness would envelope us as we mention our current year of pestering her.

Every semester, we would disrupt the long lines, going from one place to another. We would talk in loud voices and give delight to other people (from what I have observed).

Every semester, we would forget something. Whether it’s a 1×1 picture of ourselves (taken only a day before, of course), a stamped window envelope, an important document or the school I.D., our enrolment day will never pass by without one of us forgetting something. Good thing the dorms are just five pesos away.

And every semester I would wait in line, my thoughts bordering between sleep and hunger pangs, I would helplessly think, “ Hayy, I’m gonna miss this…”