Oh. Well. (part II)

One time, when my friend and I were going up a flight of stairs, he opened up the topic of women being ‘fashionably wrong’ in its literal sense. I replied that I am not so sure with what he was trying to say and that his choice of words kind of freaks me out. With a serious stare, he blew away all the naughty, gender-related thoughts going on in my mind. So I became serious.

He said that he cannot figure out why girls love to wear short hemlines then stretch them to the limits when: they are climbing or alighting a jeepney, climbing up and down the stairs, or even when they are just sitting down. He looked so pissed off that I turned away so he won’t see me suppressing a snicker.

Then I smiled at him and said that they just want to impress men, but they do so in a very weird way (attempting to tug the necklines and pull down the hemlines). Then I told him that the girls cannot blame the guys because they are trying to attract attention in a ‘not-so-good-and ethical way’.

My answer seemed to satisfy him, so he was silent for a while.

Then we saw this old woman who was wearing short necklines and hemlines too. “Who was she trying to impress?” I guess it was my turn to be silent.

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. 

On The Quiet World

I would like to share a copy of “The Quiet World” by Jeffrey McDaniel. When we did a short film once, we made this poem as basis for our storyline.

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The Quiet World
by Jeffrey McDaniel

In an effort to get people to look
into each other’s eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn’t respond,
I know she’s used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.

When i first read this poem, i wondered how everything would go if the same law will be implemented in the Philippines. How quiet would it be? How will things go? Will the country be more peaceful? Or even more chaotic?

But perhaps we will be more sensitive–to ourselves and to others. I think that if the Philippines becomes a “quiet world”, we can hear and understand better. We will hear the birds chirp, the song of the wind and of every falling raindrop.

Perhaps we should try, one day. Just once, to have a quiet world for a day. :

shading is not elementary anymore

Its election time once again.

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And once again, my friends and I have constantly found ourselves talking and debating politics—especially when we run out of good topics to talk about over late-night walks back to Escario, where Myra, the cat, is waiting for us to close the gate and call it a night.

In one of those politics-driven walks, we would lament over not being able to vote this year because our internship period would not end until the last week of May. Too bad, we said, we will no longer be able to experience the thrill of being a virgin voter.

But when we think of it, we have no name to fill in the presidency post. I feel like we are weighing different smelly fishes in the market. When one is surrounded with controversial issues, the other is clouded with health or psychological issues.

One of my friends said that some people have no choice but to vote for who has done something for the country—especially for the poor. He who has done something gets a vote. But how sure are we that his ‘kindness’ is sustainable?

Then, there are the surveys whose results are oftentimes favourable to those who commissioned them. How credible are these Q&A’s when they represent only a measly 10-20% of the population? The way I see it, the surveys make it seem that there are only two to three candidates vying for a certain position. Sadly, media reiterates this. They narrow the choices for the people. Where is equality, horserace journalists?

A week after May 10, 2010, perhaps the flood has subsided—for now. It will be the start of a new era for the Filipinos. All we can do is hold on to our personal choices and shade the dot of the person who we think will be worthy as the next leader.

For now, we can only hope that whoever he may be, he is the right one and he will not make the Philippines worse than it already is.

living a toxic life

I’m slowly getting used to this kind of lifestyle.
And I’m not 100% happy about it.

Going to a new place for a short period ultimately boils down to financial and physical instability. There are many reasons why I am living an extravagant and sometimes unwise lifestyle this summer. Here are some:

We seldom ride public transportation because most of the time, if not always, we walk. If we’re lucky, other people like our boss, a future public official and the friends of our friends let us hitch a ride on their A-class wheels. Besides, walking means less chances of getting lost.

The room is air-conditioned. Not being a fan of the big, noisy, squarish machine that cost us the huge ‘patong’ on our rent, I would wrap myself from head to toe with the inch-thick comforter I brought along. Oftentimes, I would also fancy wearing a bonnet—earning the latter its monicker, the ‘Kawatan Hat’.

Most of the time—meaning breakfast, lunch, dinner, we would eat outside. And since I would always reiterate the importance of not acquiring Hepatitis A, each meal of the day would cost each one of us at most P100-150. The home-cooked meal is even pricier and it will always be fried. Fried fish, fried hotdogs, fried longganisa, fried egg and fried ham. Forget the why-did-we-not-cook?-option. We do not have the balls, oil and pans for it.

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There are just too many malls. Since Cebu is progressing to become one of the most industrialized cities in Asia, a lot of ‘commercial boxes’ are sprouting out of the ground. Inside these commercial boxes are loads and loads of rainbow goodies which—in a way—answer Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. I am one of those hags who just can’t get enough of one broomstick.

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Our lifestyle is somewhat toxic.
It’s the ‘I’m-slowly-getting-used-to-it’ part that scares me.

Wish us luck for one more month of a toxic lifestyle. :)