out of bed

5 ways to prevent another flooding disaster

2009-10-06T18:52:00.000+08:00

While the discussion on why the great flood happened isn't over yet, I think it's time we start brainstorming solutions, and not dwell too much on who's to blame. Here's a few ideas on what we can do to prevent a similar disaster:

1. Identify flood-prone areas. This has been done at the metro and possibly city level (I'm sure one or two cities within Metro Manila have done some form of flood hazard mapping-- I've seen such maps for Makati and Marikina), but its good to have it at the scale of the barangay, with details like depth of the water, speed of level rise, etc. vis-a-vis the details of the population in the area. This will give us a general idea of the low, moderate, and high risk areas. Knowing where the flood will occur (or have occurred) is necessary for the succeeding steps.

2. Institute a flood warning system. Floods are easier to predict, unlike earthquakes. So doing this will not be very complicated or expensive. We'll just need to have a few more rain gauges and monitoring stations along major river systems. Local government units and even community organizations or homeowners associations can have their own warning systems.

3. Improve emergency response at the local level. If every flood-prone barangay had a rubber boat and a rescue team (who would be on alert once there is a warning system in place) then perhaps response would be quicker .

4. Identify development options for the different risk areas. This can be one or a mixture of the following:

a. Avoidance, i.e. relocate people and critical infrastructure out of the area. What makes this option complicated is that it is very hard to find space within an already crowded metropolis.

b.Mitigation, i.e. you reduce impact of the hazard through measures such as infrastructure like dikes or flood ways (example: KL's new floodway-slash-highway).

c. Adaptation, i.e. you accept that the flood will happen anyway and just prepare for it (see the stilt houses they built in New Orleans after Katrina).

d. Risk transfer, e.g. insurance. In the US, flood insurance is available for people in flood-prone areas as long as they follow certain guidelines (such as a minimum base floor height, among other things).

5. Ensure that future development will be safe, and not contribute to the problem. Measures include the following:

a. Implementing laws on water easements. This takes a while though. For example, its taking the Pasig River Rehabilitation Commission years to reclaim a continuous 10-meter easement.

b. Limiting further development on high risk areas. For a few years, market forces might make this a natural development...I can't imagine anyone wanting to build a new house in Provident Village after what happened. But it needs to be legislated, so people don't forget.

c. Imposing design guidelines for development in low-moderate risk areas. Guidelines can range from appropriate architecture, site development (e.g. more green and less concrete), density controls, etc. These guidelines (including limitations) can be instituted in zoning ordinances by the local government, but homeowners and developers themselves should also do their own research before doing any project.

Items 1-3 are definitely doable and can be done immediately (there are already good examples of community-based flood preparedness programs).

Items 4-5 are more challenging will need more rigorous planning and creative thinking among all stakeholders. The details and impacts of the development options and guidelines also need to be fleshed out, and implementation mechanisms set. Madugong bakbakan ito!

The myth of the presidency

2009-09-25T19:04:00.000+08:00

Every time elections approach, we talk about it like it's going to be a life changing process. Especially when the talk revolves around who is going to be president. As if we will succeed or fail as a country depending on who is going to sit in Malacanang.

Here's a theory: who our president is doesn't matter as much as we think it does. The day-to-day, quality of life for most people in the country doesn't rely on the president's decisions.I don't have the statistics, but just take as evidence what you know: your life, and the lives of people around you. How have your lives changed because of the president?

I don't mean to say that who we elect as president doesn't matter at all, I just mean that the president is not the public official with the most influence in people's daily lives. Next to the president would be senators and congressmen, who probably matter even less.Sure they make laws (in the remaining ounce of time when they're not "investigating" the latest scandal), and they're always on the news. But I think the elected officials who matter more in our lives are the people we don't pay a lot of attention to, or don't even know, like the barangay captain.

More than 50 percent of the problems we have with our country (such as traffic, pollution, corruption, etc) can probably be solved locally. The problem is that our daily news almost always revolves around our national officials. We get very little information on what is happening at the local level, and hence fail to contribute or be vigilant. Do you even know who is responsible for that road repair project in your subdivision that is driving you nuts?

The presidency is overrated. The city or municipal mayor probably has a lot more influence in your life (like making sure your garbage is collected regularly, and the flooding problem in your street is fixed). I would like the next president to be someone with firm principles, who has a vision for the country, etc. But even if he/she does have those traits, I don't have high hopes that things will change quickly because of that. Maybe the best thing for us is not to have a president, so we'll start taking more responsibility for our actions, because there's no one at the top to blame.

2110 (Part 2)

2009-08-16T18:16:00.001+08:00

"ARAAY! ANO BAAH!" I exclaimed as I hit the top of my head hard against the roof of the…flying tricycle, or aircycle, whatever it was. Obviously he hadn't seen the oncoming aircycle, as we had dropped down suddenly to avoid it.

"Ooops..sorry." He said, chuckling.

Crazy driver. Or pilot. I still had no idea where I was, or if this was just a dream. "Don't you have air lanes or something?"

"We used to. But they found out that having no air traffic rules reduces the number of accidents."

"Whaat? Wala atang sense yun."

"Pilots tend to be more alert when there are no rules."

"Sigurado ka---WAAAH!!" I let out a shriek as we banked sharply to the right as another aircycle zoomed past us.

"Taga-rito ka ba? You're acting like it’s the first time you've ridden an aircycle."

"Uh..nauntog ako kanina, di ba. May konting amnesia. Anong date na ba ngayon?"

"August 8, 2110."

"2110…and we're still in Manila?"

"Yes ma'am." The pain on my head felt real. Maybe I had it backwards--maybe the dream was riding the tricycle in 2009.

"Landing na ba tayo?" I asked impatiently, noticing that we were going down.

"Not yet. Pasok muna tayong EDSA. Put on your helmet." He gestured at what looked like a hard hat dangling on my right side.

"Ba't ngayon mo lang sinabi--" My stomach froze, as I saw what we were going into. We were descending into what seemed like a ravine, filled with a swarm of fireflies . As we descended further, I saw that the ravine was actually a lane of tall buildings lining a wide avenue (EDSA, apparently) . The swarm of fireflies turned out to be hundreds of aircycles with blinking taillights, each with its own erratic path. As he said, it looked like there were no rules at all. And we were diving into the midst of the swarm.

"Leche. Papasok tayo diyan??? Pikit na lang ako. Sabihin mo lang pag tapos na."

"Okay." He grinned. It was the same grin he gave me when he first asked me to ride this creaking patchwork of a flying contraption.

Going through EDSA was like riding an amusement ride at a small-town carnival. I felt like the aircycle was about to fall apart anytime and my heart dropped every time we had a near collision. But I didn't close my eyes. I couldn't resist. If this was Manila in 2110, I had to see what it looked like. Each aircycle looked different. While others looked like mini-helicopters, similar to the one I was riding, others had different forms--some looked like dragonflies and stingrays, and flew like planes. What was common was they all seemed to be made out of scrap parts, each one custom-made, and each one emblazoned with messages such as "Only in the Philippines" or "God Bless." Everything looked strange, but felt weirdly familiar.

"Akala ko ba ayaw mong tumingin," he remarked, still grinning at me. We had turned into a quieter side "street" - actually a narrower ravine.

"San ba tayo papunta?" I asked, noticing that we were slowing down.

"Hindi ba dapat ikaw magsabi sa akin? Ikaw ang pasahero. Saan ba kita ibababa? "

"Hindi ko alam."

"Ayayay. Kung ganun -- anong gagawin ko sa yo?"

"Bahala ka." I grinned. My curiosity had been tickled. If this was a dream, I didn't want to wake up just yet. I wanted to explore 2110. I needed a pilot. And I was crazy enough to trust him.

***

Read Part 1.

2110

2009-07-26T03:23:00.002+08:00

"Araaay!" I exclaimed as I hit the top of my head hard against the roof of the tricycle. Obviously the driver had not seen the speed bump, because he rode over it at full speed. The sharp lurch of the tricycle almost bumped me off my seat. As I cursed under my breath and rubbed my head, I felt the cab beginning to wobble badly. I realized it was coming loose from the motorcycle, which hadn't slowed down at all. "MANOONG! HINTO!" I shouted, to no avail, because the cab had broken loose fully and was veering off the road and heading straight onto a tree. It happened so fast that all I could remember was holding my bag tightly and the driver calling "MISS! MISS!" before everything blacked out.

"Miss. Hoy miss." A hand was nudging my shoulder. "Miss, gising."

"Ha? Huh? Asan ako?" I opened my eyes and realized I was lying on the pavement. I must have fallen out of the cab. The person who was nudging me was a guy about my age, with brown spiky hair.

"Ok ka lang?" he asked.

"Ang sakit ng ulo ko…asan na yung driver?? Yung gagong yun…iniwan ata ako." There was no sign of the tricycle…or its loose parts.

"Driver ng ano?"

"Ng tricycle...yung sinakyan ko. "

"Tricycle?" He seemed confused.

"Oo…naaksidente kami."

"Anong klaseng sasakyan yun?"

"Hah? Tricycle! Di mo ba alam???"

"Wala atang ganun dito."

"Ano???" I looked at him. He seemed dead serious.

"Natamaan ata ang ulo mo, miss. Baka kailangan mo ng check up."

"'Wag na…uwi na ako." I stood up, intending to walk home. Except for my throbbing head, I didn't have any other injury. And this person seemed a little crazy. But as I tried to get my bearings on where I was, I realized the street looked different. The houses and trees of the subdivision were gone. Instead, running alongside the street was a railing. I walked towards it, intending to see what lay beyond. When I got there, my knees almost buckled. Because we were apparently very high up on some sort of bridge, and all I could see were the lights of the city far below.

"Ohmigod. Panaginip ito. Kelangan kong magising."

"Hey…sandali lang...check muna natin yung ulo mo." Before I could object, he put his palm over the top of my head, the way priests do when they bless you. After a few seconds, he put his arm down. "Hmm. You're okay." He seemed surprised. "May sasakyan ka ba pauwi?"

"Wala." I was completely disoriented. How the hell did I get here?

"Hatid na kita. Konti lang dumadaan na sasakyan dito." He grabbed my bag lying on the pavement, and started walking. I followed him. After walking for about a hundred meters, I saw that the street, or bridge, or whatever it was, led to a circular concrete pad. And there was some sort of flying vehicle in the middle of the pad. It looked like a helicopter…except that it was a lot smaller, and its shell seemed to be a patchwork of materials assembled by hand. He opened the door, and tossed my bag in. "Pasok ka," he said, while holding the door open.

"Ano yan??? Is that safe? "

"It's an aircycle." He grins. "And you'll be safe, as long as I'm driving."

Ang bato, bow.

2009-07-18T23:09:00.001+08:00

Noong umuwi ako ng Disyembre, may binigay sa akin na regalo na hindi ko inaasahan. Isang bato. Binigay ito ng lolo ko sa akin bago siya namatay. Binisita namin siya noong bisperas ng pasko, at may pagkakataon na naiwan ako sa kwarto niya. Lapit ka dito ineng, sabi niya, habang nakahiga siya sa kama. May ibibigay ako sa yo. Buksan mo ang drawer sa side table. Binuksan ko nga, at nakita ko ang isang itim na kahon na maliit, parang jewelry box. Ano ito lolo? Sabi ko. Yan, ineng, sabi niya, ang magpapaligaya sa iyo. Binuksan ko ang kahon, at nakita ko sa loob ang isang pouch na puti. Tinaob ko ito, at nahulog sa aking palad ang isang itim na bato na makinis. Ano ito, anting-anting? Biro ko, sabay tawa. Bigay iyan sa akin ng lolo ko, sabi niya. At dahil ikaw ang paborito kong apo, ipapasa ko ito sa yo. Kapag hawak mo yan, makukuha mo kahit na sinong gusto mo. Ows, lolo? Oo, sabi niya. Maniwala ka sa akin. Habang nasa iyo ang bato, kung may magugustohan kang tao, magkakagusto rin siya sa yo. Di ba wala kang boyfriend ngayon? Ayan, hindi ka na magkakaproblema. Talaga, lolo ha. Oo…gumana yan sa akin, sabi niya. (Isasagot ko sana, kaya siguro maraming kang naging kabit. Pero di ko na sinabi). Sinabi ko…parang too good to be true. Siguro lolo, may catch yan ano? Pero noong sandaling yun, narinig namin ang boses ng nanay ko sa labas ng kwarto, at sa halip na sagutin ang tanong ko, sabi niya, itago mo na yan ineng, dapat walang ibang makakita. Binalik ko ang bato sa pouch, at nilagay ko sa bulsa ko. Hindi na namin napagusapan ulit ang bato. Kinabukasan, namatay siya. Konti lang ang tao sa burol niya. Kami lang ng nanay ko at yung pangalawa niyang asawa ang pamilyang andun. Hindi pumunta sa burol ang lola ko at mga kapatid ng nanay ko. Matagal na rin kasing hiwalay sa pamilya ang lolo ko. Sabi niya paborito niya akong apo, pero ang totoo ay kami na lang ng nanay ko ang dumadalaw sa kanya.Kung may hiwaga man ang bato, hindi naging maganda yung resulta para sa kanya…dahil sa halip na palibutan siya ng mga mahal sa buhay, ay isa-isang lumayo ang mga ito. Pero, baka nga naman hindi niya lang ginamit ng tama. Ano kaya kung totoo ang kapangyarihan ng bato? Kaya ko bang harapin ang magiging resulta nito? Paano kung magkagusto ako kay Brad Pitt? Abangan...

War and gossip

2009-07-06T14:09:00.002+08:00

Who would have thought I would hear the words "cultural displacement" and "ancestral domain" on a showbiz gossip show? On Sunday afternoon I saw Angel Locsin get teary-eyed over the war in Mindanao while being interviewed by Boy Abunda on The Buzz. She had recently gone to an evacuation center in Munai, Lanao del Norte with just a few friends to see the situation for herself. No bodyguards, no military escort, or a truck of charity goods to give out. Just herself and her desire to understand the impact of war. Go Angel. It's about time this issue got on prime time.

waah! so cute

2009-06-29T13:51:00.000+08:00

we took rosalie's 8-month old baby iya to UP for a photo shoot. see more of my shots in osang's facebook album. ferdz also took his own photos, see them here.

more music, more life

2009-06-25T15:46:00.000+08:00

i went on a crazy music cd-buying spree the other day, getting a total of 8 cds. 8! this tops my t-shirt buying spree some months ago when i bought 7 shirts (same style, different colors) from one shop. i might even have bought more cds, if i had found other stuff that i wanted. here are the titles:

Blush by Imago
Is Love by The Out of Body Special
Themesongs by Ang Bandang Shirley
Tulad ng Dati by The Dawn
<S> Marks the Spot by Sandwich
Soul Up! by Juan Pablo Dream
Sinosikat? by Sinosikat?
Bipolar by Up Dharma Down

i went to the fete dela musique last june 20 where i realized that it was time to move on from my 90s playlist, because we have frickin' awesome local bands right now. there's so much more variety compared to before, and they're mixing genres i didn't even know about (although i don't really care about genre, as long as it sounds good and i can relate to it). the last time i bought a cd was more than 5 years ago. this is to make up for all those years of just grabbing mp3s from my friends, and actually support local artists. also this is what happens when you have a whim plus a credit card. haha.

any other local artists you wanna suggest?

anyone i can drag to a live music gig?

No. 26

2009-06-11T23:12:00.000+08:00

My mobile phone has moved on (to a cunning person on the MRT, at about 6pm thursday). Do send me your mobile numbers so I can rebuild my phonebook. I have the same number.

25 idiotic things I've done

2009-06-05T10:26:00.000+08:00

Bored ka na ba? Magbasa ka muna ng listahan. Here's a list of idiotic things I've done or have happened to me (not in order of idiocy).

1. I've hurt my throat with a pen. (I was 3! I think.)

2. I've fallen into a muddy canal (Countless times, when I was a kid playing tag).

3. I got locked in a bathroom (Doorknob's fault.)

4. I damaged a door (Couldn't get out of the bathroom without pulling out the doorknob).

5. I got locked in the office (Janitor's fault. Had to call boss so he could get me out.)

6. I've drunk other people's drinks (Got engrossed in the conversation)

7. I've gone to SM with mismatched slippers (One was thicker than the other - no wonder I was walking lopsided!)

8. I've slipped and fallen face down in the College of Architecture lobby in Melchor Hall (I was late in submitting a plate)

9. I've lost countless umbrellas (I bet some were stolen)

10. I've had my sandal straps snap at least twice (had to hobble to work).

11. I accidentally dropped my retainers into my seatmate's backpack in grade school (he had to take out all his books to find it)

12. I took a trip on a road on a Signal No. 3 (we almost got flattened by a tree).

13. I trip or stub my toes at least once a day (see the rundown tips of my shoes).

14. I sung 'No Day But Today' while blindfolded in a swimming pool (idiotic org initiation ritual).

15. I submitted homework on scratch paper (in UP! The teacher was pissed).

16. I dropped a subject in college (that I wasn't failing) so I could get delayed.

17. I only water my plants when I remember (that's why they die).

18. I burned my leg on a motorcycle exhaust pipe (got off on the wrong side).

19. I let a con man borrow my cell phone..and steal it (I thought people you went to high school with were good).

20. I told a married man I had a crush on him (I was 17!)

21. I hit a coral while snorkeling (and got a red inflamed foot for a whole week).

22. I got my chest burned by peach mango pie filling (third degree! Do not eat while riding a tricycle).

23. I forgot to get the change.

24. I said no.

25. I said yes.

Wika nga ng isang kaibigan ko, 'Ang katangahan ay sakit ng matatalino.' Har har.

Now...get back to work.

A hole lot of money

2009-05-21T16:58:00.001+08:00

This is my "hole-listic" theory of money. It's about how to get more money without really trying. For metaphor's sake, let's say money exists in a different space/ dimension. So it will flow into your space, you gotta create a crack in space-time--a "hole" where the money can flow through. The question is, how do you create a hole? You gotta let money out. Spend it, give it away. The more money you let out, the bigger the hole will be. The bigger the hole, the more money will flow in.

You might say this goes against the basic principles of making money. But look at successful businessmen.They get rich by spending a lot of money, don’t they?

So your hole is clear without any obstacles, you have to follow the following principles: 1. Spend money without guilt. 2. Give it away without expecting anything back. Racking up a huge credit card bill doesn't count because you're not really spending, you're making utang (and also carrying a lot of guilt). But, when you pay all your utang, voila! The hole clears.

My parents used to tell me this story to illustrate their attitude towards money: When they were still a young couple, there were times when they would almost run out of money. When this happened they would go out and spend what little they had left on ice cream. And then the money they needed would always come.

Money is energy. Let it flow. And if you wanna get rich, be ready to create a big, big hole.

So, that's the theory anyway. Wanna test?

WANTED: Very Tall Friend

2009-05-08T12:12:00.000+08:00

Getting the ground floor of our apartment repainted was the best investment I've made in years. Sure, we're renting it, I'm improving a place that's not really mine, etc...but I've started thinking of it this way: I see it everyday. So even if I stay in the apartment for just one more year, sulit na..the amount I spent, divided by 365 days, amounts to just a few pesos a day, for the good energy and peace of mind that I get when I get home to a fresh-looking space. Plus, I've been thinking about it for years, it's about time I got it done.

Anyway, my next project is to repaint my bedroom. I intend to do it myself this time, but my problem is that even if I stand on a chair, I'm not tall enough to reach the ceiling corners (they have to be done by brush). So, I'm thinking, I'm giving FREE LUNCH to a very tall friend who can help me get the job done. I need someone a foot taller than me. That would be about...6'4"? Hmmm. Is there anyone that tall in this country? Anyone have a tall ladder instead?

viruses are alien robots

2009-04-29T14:46:00.000+08:00

The recent swine flu scare prompted me to recall what a doctor told me some years ago: that viruses aren't alive. That surprised me, since I had always thought they were like bacteria, with a different name (also, the study of viruses is under biology...which is the study of life). The official definition of a virus is that it is a "submicroscopic infectious agent." A wikipedia search reveals that whether or not a virus is a life form is debatable:

Opinions differ on whether viruses are a form of life, or organic structures that interact with living organisms. They have been described as "organisms at the edge of life", since they resemble organisms in that they possess genes and evolve by natural selection, and reproduce by creating multiple copies of themselves through self-assembly. However, although they have genes, they do not have a cellular structure, which is often seen as the basic unit of life. Additionally, viruses do not have their own metabolism, and require a host cell to make new products. They therefore cannot reproduce outside a host cell (though bacterial species such as rickettsia and chlamydia are considered living organisms despite the same limitation). Accepted forms of life use cell division to reproduce, whereas viruses spontaneously assemble within cells, which is analogous to the autonomous growth of crystals. Virus self-assembly within host cells has implications for the study of the origins of life, as it lends further credence to the hypothesis that life could have started as self-assembling organic molecules.

The illustration above is a virus which looks suspiciously like a microscopic Transformer. So, the theory is that aliens have been with us for a long time, and have been trying to take over the earth covertly under the guise of sicknesses like swine flu. Then again, as the last statement above says, they may also have triggered the beginnings of life on earth.

rhythm of the spirit

2009-04-08T12:28:00.002+08:00

There are seasons in the spiritual life. There is the movement from immaturity to maturity, the journey from struggle to surrender, the path of turmoil to peace, faith to understanding and sowing to reaping. But there is a problem with a linear projection of the inner life where we move from one plateau to the next, from one state of existence to another. Life is just not like this. It is more circular. There are times when, as it were, we have to start all over again. Seldom do we move smoothly from "darkness" to "enlightenment" and live happily ever after in the latter state.

One of the most basic rhythms of the inner life is the movement from our restless senses to an inner solitude in order to reengage the world with new creativity and hope. The rhythm starts with where we are, not idealistically with where we think we ought to be. The second stage in this rhythm occurs when we are drawn to the place of solitude and the source of renewal. The third stage in the rhythm is when we can reengage our circumstances and our world with these new resources and creativity so that we are no longer overwhelmed, but can respond with new found courage. If we don't start with the first stage, we live in unreality. If we don't move on to the second stage, we may end up living in despair and will certainly exhaust our inner resources. If, however, we fail to engage the third stage, we may be spiritually replete, but we are socially irrelevant.

Our spiritual life does not follow the pattern of our physical and social development. Physically and emotionally we grow from childhood into adulthood. It is not quite like that with our spiritual growth. Spiritual maturity does not necessarily mean strength, competence, and independence. Maturity also involves openness and further learning. We thus grow from strength to weakness, maturity to childlikeness, and giving to receiving and back again in the rhythm of our spiritual life.

- condensed from the book Dare to Journey with Henry Nouwen by Charles Ringma

Hope you have a restful holy week!

running

2009-03-29T19:27:00.000+08:00

I have a theory that running reveals a lot about people. That their fears, tensions, and outlook in life can be seen in the way they run. It's in the rhythm and length of their stride, the way they swing their arms, whether they ball up their firsts or open their hands, how they hold up their head and shoulders, the way they lean forward or back, the heaviness and lightness of their feet , the sound of their breathing, the direction and steadiness of their gaze, the expression on their face. Maybe there is a proper form in running, but everyone runs a little differently from each other. Like handwriting.

***

Running for me solves a lot of things. Boredom, restlessness, frustration, heartbreak, anger, laziness…they go away more easily. If I knew this before I would have taken it up a lot earlier in life, and saved myself a lot of useless thinking. I think it can also improve your performance in other (seemingly unrelated) things. Like taking tests. Or relationships. I think that's why people run for world peace. It's like prayer. Sweating and breathing flushes out the toxins and spreads good vibes.

Running also makes you really hungry, but I think that's a fair trade off for the benefits.

***

Totally unrelated, but totally funny:

Kalabanin ang Facebook at Google

summer na!

2009-03-19T09:05:00.000+08:00

First day at work

2009-03-11T18:45:00.000+08:00

May bagong trabaho na ako! Guess kung saan. Clue: maraming high-rise.

Minsan sa isang isla (Part 1)

2009-03-03T17:08:00.000+08:00

Isa lang and picture ko sa kanya sa trip na yun. Hindi niya alam na kinukunan ko siya. Kunyari kinakalikot ko yung camera. Kinunan ko siya habang kumakain kami ng almusal, noong pangalawang araw. Sa picture na to, nakasimangot siya habang kumukuha ng toasted bread. Hindi ko maalala kung nakasimangot ba siya dahil sa toasted bread, o dahil masama ang gising niya. Definitely hindi dahil pangit yung view, dahil nasa tabing dagat kami, kumakain sa dining hall na parang isang malaking balkonahe. Ang ganda nga ng sikat ng araw, at ang sarap ng hangin galing sa dagat. Dahil natuwa ako sa lugar, may picture ako sa bulaklak sa mesa, sa mga turistang nagcacanoeing sa dagat, at mga taong kumakain sa balkonahe. Meron din akong picture sa lamesa na yun, na siya ang kumuha. Nakahiga ang pisngi sa isang kamay at nakangiting pa-sweet . Pagkatapos niya kunin yung picture, sabi niya, ang ganda mo dito. So di ba, at least sigurado ako na hindi siya nakasimangot dahil pangit ang view niya. Baka nga dahil sa toasted bread, na sunog at medyo matigas. O di kaya sa kapeng malabnaw. Lagi naman siyang may reklamo. Kung gagawa man ako ng scrapbook para sa trip na yun, yung picture niya at yung picture ko ang ipapagtabi ko sa cover, bilang summary ng buong trip. Yung isa, cynical na traveler, laging nakakahanap ng kulubot sa labas. Yung isa naman, trying hard na happy camper, nakasmile pa rin kahit may kulubot sa loob.

Ewan ko ba kung bakit kami andun. Pumunta pa kami sa malayong isla sa ibang bansa (na hindi niya bansa, at hindi ko rin bansa). In fairness, ang ganda nung isla. Well-preserved yung mga forest, di kagaya ng mga isla sa Pinas, kaya ang daming wildlife. Nakakita pa nga ako ng wild otters na sumasampa sa mga bato sa tabing dagat (Otters! Wala nun sa Pinas! Para silang mga aso sa dagat). So bakit nga ba kami andun? Hindi para manood ng wildlife. Tingin ko, pareho kaming may delusyon. Delusyon na sana maging masaya kami kahit hindi namin masyadong kilala yung isa't-isa, at hindi rin namin sigurado kung gusto talaga namin yung isa't-isa. Ganito ang nasa isipan ko nun: bahala na, what the hell, minsan lang ako gumawa ng ganito. Ang manipis na rason na to, through time, napakapal ng mga practical na rason: nabili na yung tiket, nabook na yung resort, mahal ang penalties kung magback-out. Isa pa, may sakit ako ng isang wannabe writer: kelangan kong malaman ang dulo ng kwento, kung ano ang sagot sa mga "what if." Hindi pwede ang hanging. Para umusad ang kwento, kelangan gumawa ng desisyon ang bida. To be or not to be. At para exciting, siyempre pipiliin niya ang daan na medyo complicated, yung hindi sigurado ang outcome. Yung may obstacle course.

So, eto na ang bida, landing sa airport sa isang malayong bansa. Nagsuklay at naglipstick muna sa ladies room para maganda siya paglabas. Inikot din ang utak para mailagay sa likod ang parteng masyadong maraming iniisip, at mailagay sa harapan ang parteng mas klaro: I am here for guilt-free fun. Ayun. Ready na. Andun na siya sa waiting area, nakaupo, naghihintay. Naka light blue shirt, khaki shorts, leather sandals. Casual. Vacation mode. Nakangiti. So far so good. Beso, hi, hello, kumusta yung flight mo, etc. Pero wala pang 5 minutes, sabi niya, "I have to leave." Biglang nayanig ang mundo. Huwaaat? Hindi ito kasama sa mga scenarios ng istorya. Mga dalawang buwan ding nakaplano ang trip na to.Pero dahil maaga pa, may composure pa ang bida. Nakahinga pa ng malalim, at sinabi: "Teka lang. Paupuin mo muna ako ng maayos, at ipaliwanag mo sa akin kung bakit kailangan mong umalis."

(Kids, fiction ito ha :)

Facing 30

2009-02-28T19:07:00.000+08:00

"As you get closer to edging into your thirties, there's the whole struggle between 'I can be free and easy and do what I want and explore,' and 'God, I want to have a couch, I want to be more settled in." FACING 30: Women Talk About Constructing a Real Life and Other Scary Rites of Passage (Lauren Dockett and Kristin Beck, 1998)

I found a book called "Facing 30" in a second hand bookshop. About three-fourths of the book is about the concerns of women who are freaking out over turning 30, while the other fourth contains wisdom from women have gone through that freak-out phase. It's a book that I could send back again to a secondhand store (meaning it's not that special). But I did find a few quotes in the last part of the book worth sharing (to all you people who are turning, or just turned 30..hehe) :

"A big part of this battle we have with ourselves around thirty is about not knowing what to expect from the next decade. Many of us are freaking out because if we think we don't get our lives in order before thirty, whatever we haven't fixed yet is permanently screwed."

"I realized I had kind of just gone with what presented itself; some terrific things happened, and I felt like I did a lot of great stuff, but I don't think that I ever really felt like I made decisions about what I wanted to do when I was in my teens and twenties. An opportunity presented itself and I would think about whether or not it would be a great thing to do and I did it or I didn't. But by thirty I started to realize that I could actually create my own opportunities instead of just waiting for them to come to me."

"I think those experiencing a crisis have woken up to realize that they are stagnating, that they have been doing the same thing the same way for a long time and are no longer actively participating in life the way they used to…so they throw themselves into a kind of frantic, survivalist, 'I've got to change everything' mode without thinking about what they really want, what it is exactly about their current lives that is unsatisfying--or how they let themselves get into such a slump in the first place."

"As you live your life you have these dreams that are really hard to separate yourself from, even wrenching; you don't want to give up on this particular thing. And there will be a lot of those little fantasies, but some of them really call to you, and those are the ones you have to listen to because they keep coming back."

"We don't necessarily need to hurry up and be great, because the process is a windy road... If you read about all these famous writers and artists and politicians and various people, a surprising number of them were drifting in their twenties until they settled on what they wanted to do…You don't necessarily have to go from point A to point B, because you're going to get hijacked along the way. You're probably going to end up doing something completely different."

"I think the main thing is just get off your ass and do something. If you've always wanted to quit your job and go traveling through Asia, then by all means go do it. Even if it takes a year, save, don't go out for a year, save money so that you have something to come back to. So, you can set goals that aren't necessarily practical but if you handle them practically you're helping yourself."

"It's true that everything is so much bigger, but at the same time it doesn't have to have the same effect. It's like when I was in my twenties a pebble made a tsunami, but a pebble is just a pebble now."

"If you're thrown into the shallow end of the pool and you don't know how to swim, that's a crisis. But in maturing and going through things in life, you learn to swim. That doesn't necessarily mean you get thrown into the ocean or something…The key is that you learn that life changes all the time, and you have the skills to deal with that constant current of change."

"I think on the other side of angst is moment's relief and then the next crisis. You just sort of learn to grow older, you take what comes your way and you try to carve out your path. And you're more equipped to deal with the next crisis, in a sense, which is great because you then go right through it. Then you say to yourself, 'How could I not have known that? How could I not have foreseen that? Now I know it, now I know everything." And then the next challenge or passage comes your way and you're totally blind to it. And you get through that and you go, 'Oh. I never would have expected that.' So it's like this unfolding series of things that you just can't anticipate. When you're on the other side of it you've got this fabulous deeper wisdom--life still surprises you, you get through it, and you eventually trust that you can pretty much handle what comes your way."

"Maturity just helps you to realize that some things have nothing to do with you. It's a relief to find out you're not the center of the universe. That if somebody looks sad it's likely not because you hurt their feelings."

"Another aspect of my growth in my thirties was giving up fantasies of what I thought life would be about. Life as I thought it would be just turned into, well, something else. And I made a lot of mistakes and yet, at this point it's just more grist for the mill. So strangely, you have to take these things seriously, and at the same time…don't be too serious."

"I liked the whole idea of 'practicing'…What you do is you take on something that you really want to do. It may be your job, it may be something else--you just want to get good at something. You work and you work at it until you're really good at it. I think when you're older you develop more patience for working toward your goals. That really speaks to the whole question of valuing something, valuing yourself--it's actually a big surprise. You find in yourself unexpected treats."

"Self-reflection is scary and its painful but the more you do it the less scary and painful it is. And the less power your baggage has over you."

"Distinguishing twenties clutter from thirties truths means knowing the difference between who a younger you had thought you should be, and who you truly are now. It's fine to grieve the twenties, for whatever they represented to us. But it's also useful to remember that there's little from our twenties that we can't, it if is still useful, take with us across that thirty border."

"I think as you approach your thirties, there's already been so much chaos outside yourself that you start to move away from chaos and drama. The choices that you make are now more reality based. Whereas before, I'd have to say I thrived on that early chaos, now I have so much to do and so many things are just around the corner, I don't need drama. Now it's all about making it with your sanity and your peace of mind intact."

"I was into my early thirties when I realized that if I want my life to be a certain way, then I need to start being conscious about it. There are consequences to everything, and if I don't like those consequences, I can shift, I can change. It's a struggle, but a productive struggle."

"Try reframing that feeling that you're actually still a kid who shouldn't be expected to act grown. And accept that you'll still be made up of the same stuff you've always been, it's just that now you no longer have to be blindly led or uselessly overwhelmed."

Best pig ever

2009-02-25T21:10:00.000+08:00

The Philippines episode of Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations is now available on You Tube. I wrote about Bourdain's footsteps when he came here some months ago. Evidently, he liked the slow roasted lechon he had in Cebu so much he has put it on top of his "Hierarchy of Pork." I found the episode itself lacking in variety (all he does is sit and eat with people...but then again, that is the way Bourdain's show goes). But, there is a lot of good food. Get ready to salivate over the sisig (the "divine mosaic of pig parts") and crackling lechon skin. And I am now craving for the hot, spicy, papaitan ("pa-pey-tan" in his words) na kambing that my uncle in Iligan makes during fiesta time. Yum.

loss is no disaster

2009-02-19T16:08:00.000+08:00

found this gem of a poem while i was killing time in a neighborhood coffeeshop:

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

One Art
by Elizabeth Bishop
(published in the preface of The Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing, by Melissa Banks)

The one where I find something unexpected in my laundry area

2009-02-16T20:13:00.002+08:00

It's 1 in the morning. I'm in bed, reading, when I get the strange feeling that someone is watching me. I close my book, and glance at the half-open bedroom door. Nothing there. But then I look down, and there is a white, furry, pointy-eared face staring at me. It's so still it doesn't strike me as anything unusual, like it's part of the furniture. One, two, three seconds, and it registers: it's a cat. It's a white cat, staring at me, unblinking, through my bedroom door. Another two seconds, and then finally, the right reaction: what the hell is a cat doing here??? I jump up to chase it out, but when I get to the door, it's gone. I go down the stairs, expecting to see it in the dining room or kitchen, but it's nowhere. It must have gone through the torn screen door of the kitchen. The white cat is our resident pusakal (stray cat), but it has never entered the house before. Maybe I've brought it too many leftovers, and it's begun to feel like a pet. I was irritated. How dare it come up to my room? What did it expect to find? Fish? I go to the kitchen, expecting to find the cat on its usual perch on top of the concrete wall in the open laundry area. I just wanted to give it a stern look that said: never do that again. I peer through the screen door, and indeed, there it is, sitting snugly on top of the wall.

I was about to open the door, when I stop. Something is strange. The cat is staring intently at something, but it isn't me. It is staring at something at the opposite end of the laundry area, the side I couldn't see from the inside. Then I feel it. There is something there besides the cat. It's big, and it's breathing heavily. Heaving. Sobbing. I hesitate. Maybe I should just go to sleep. It's late and I might be hallucinating. But curiosity drives me, and I open the door. Then I see it. It's a huge, scrawny, naked figure curled up beside the concrete wall. It's holding its legs close, but its arms and legs are so long they occupy almost half of the laundry area. If it had stood up, it might have been as tall as our two-storey apartment. Its wrinkled, leathery, skin has a bluish tinge, like it's been dipped in blue dye and wrung out. I couldn't see its head clearly, because it was buried under its arms. All I could see were a few tufts of silvery hair. It was crying heavily, like a child who'd been left behind by his mother. I look at the cat, almost expecting it to explain this. It looks back. It doesn't have an answer. Finally, I get the courage to speak up.

"Why are you crying?" It seems logical to ask. Slowly, it takes its head out of its arms, and looks at me. Its face has the same, bluish, wrinkled, leathery look as the rest of its body, but its eyes draw me. They are huge pools of bluish green, like water in a deep pond. They stare at me, watery, but unblinking, like the cat.

"WHY?" Its voice is deep and slow, with its own echo, like it's speaking underwater. At first I think he's asking me a question, then I realize he's just repeating what I've said.

"Yes, why. Why are you crying?"

"MY…TREE. THEY. ..CUT... MY... TREE..." One giant sniffle comes out.

"What tree?" I asked. Then it dawns on me. That tree. The one my next-door neighbors hacked down branch by branch last week, until it was leafless and half-dead. I feel for him.

"I'm sorry. I know how you feel. I'm sad too."

"SAD…?" It repeats, eyes watering again.

"Yes, I'm sad because I liked your tree. I'm sorry they cut it."

"I... LIKED... TREE.." It seems to look through the house, to the other side, where its tree used to be. Then it hangs its head again and sighs. I don't know what to do. But I have to ask the inevitable.

"I'm really sorry about your loss, but...why are you here?"

"WHY?" It repeats again, very slowly.

"Yes, why are you here in my laundry area?"

"HERE?" It drawls.

"Why here?" I simplify.

"HERE..IS..A…TREE..."

"What tree?"

" A TREE..." It looks at me like a lost child.

"Oh that. But that's not realy a--" I paused. There was, indeed, a budding tree in my laundry area. A sapling had pushed its way out of the joint between the concrete fence and pavement. We had left it alone, and it had somehow managed to grow up to two meters high. A feat, considering there is no visible soil in the place. But we are going to have to cut it sometime, because it's going to destroy the wall and pavement if left to grow.

"Why this tree?" I ask.

"WHY…TREE?" It seems to have a habit of repeating slowly everything I have to say. It makes me impatient.

"Why this tree? Why not the other trees?" I gesture to a few large neighboring trees. It turns its head to where I'm gesturing.

"NOT..MY..TREES.."

"Not your trees? You mean, they have owners? Like you?"

"YES... TREES...HAVE OWNERS..." It shakes its head.

"And this tree doesn't have an owner yet?"

"I…CHOOSE…TREE. I..LIKE..TREE." Its eyes seem to turn bluer, like the sun coming over a pond.

"You like tree." I was beginning to adapt his speech pattern.

"But you can't. It's not supposed to be there. It can't grow up. We have to c--." I stop. I don't want to depress it further.

"You can't stay here."

"CAN'T... STAY?" The eyes turn dark green, clouds returning.

"I'm sorry. This is not a tree growing area. It's for laundry."

"LAUN...DRY?" Its eyes are wide.

"Yes, laundry, you know, wet clothes. Hung to dry."

"BUT…TREE. HERE. GROWING. PLEASE... STAY." Its long skinny fingers are now locked around the scrawny trunk.

"GROWING TREE….STAY." It repeats.

The eyes are watering, tears threatening to overflow again. I'm at a loss. I look at the cat again. It hasn't moved an inch. It doesn't seem the least bit disturbed by the scene. It even looks as if it's sleeping. I look again at the creature, long, leathery, scrawny, almost bald, arms and legs everywhere, clinging to this skinny little tree as if its life depends on it.

What if his life does depend on it? I sigh.

"Okay. You can stay."

"STAY…?"

"Yes. Stay."

"STAY." It declares, closing its eyes, relaxing its hold, almost collapsing on the ground.

Suddenly, a door bangs upstairs, and heavy steps come down the stairs. It's my housemate Ida, waking up to prepare for her night shift in the call center. The cat springs up, hearing the noise, and leaps up to the neighbor's rooftop . I turn my head for a second to watch the cat disappear among the shadows. When I look back, the creature is gone.

14 wishes (a belated happy valentines!)

2009-02-14T19:55:00.000+08:00

…for all my happy couple friends! (you know who you are ;)

May you have:
1. Less stress
2. More money
3. Less fear
4. More passion
5. Less tears
6. More laughter
7. Less petty quarrels
8. More honest arguments
9. Less loneliness
10. More time with family and friends
11. Perfect weekend getaways
12. Healthy bodies
13. The house of your dreams
14. Fantastic sex

To my happy single friends, may you have more of the same! (yes, including #14…wahahahah :)

(Photo from the UP Fair, Feb. 14)

Cut

2009-02-11T17:30:00.000+08:00

Our neighbor had a mad tree-trimming drive and cut off all the branches with leaves from my tree. My tree! The one I'd see whenever I'd pause, think, and look out my window. I loved that tree. I remember thinking that in January, when the air was cool and it was sunny, and I could see leaves outside my window rustling with the slightest breeze, and the chirping fan-tailed birds hopping among the branches. It was just one of those perfect little things, like hot showers. I had the illusion that I was in some probinsya instead of hot, arid Manila. They hired men to do it.For two days last week I was sitting in my room, working, sighing continually while they hacked at the branches.I think my neighbors are afraid of leaves. Sometimes an old lady goes up on the roof to sweep the dead leaves off. They probably thought, 'we've had enough of leaves!' and decided to go get rid of them at the source. While I was listening to the excruciating sound of the wood cracking, I wanted to go bang their gate and say, 'I'll sweep your leaves for you! Just don't kill my tree!' Now my room feels unusually bright, like a layer of curtains has been drawn.There's an uneasy, empty, silence around the leafless trunks.It's hot. I look out and I see the bare concrete walls of the apartments on the other side. My neighbors have a huge pile of rotting dead branches and leaves on their yard. Is this better than sweeping a few dried leaves once in a while? I don't know. Just wait for summer. I know they must regret it somehow.

Man is an island

2009-02-03T10:03:00.005+08:00

I am bloody Ibiza! - Will (Hugh Grant), About a Boy

Let's say, for argument's sake, that there were only two types of men in the world: Boracay, and Siquijor.

Boracay is confident, fun, charming, has varied passions and interests. He knows how to treat women well. Everyone likes him.

Siquijor is shy, quiet, a bit reclusive and mysterious. He's a bit awkward around women. He's not really that popular.

There's too many women around Boracay (which makes it difficult to get a place) but almost none around Siquijor (which kind of makes you wonder why).

So girls, who would you choose: Boracay, or Siquijor?

And guys, if you were an island (aside from the above two), which one would you be?