Foods I Miss

Nothing compares with my favorite menu. Of course taste is relative, though most of the time we have a universal agreement on what tastes good and what tastes bad. My provincial upbringing lingers in my tongue and to the right are foods that I could eat 7 times a week without puking. The fried rice (kalo-kalo, mas namit kon daw batok sa idalom), grilled fish (sinugba nga isda, bisan ano), steamed prawns (lukon o pasayan bisan ano okay lang), fried bangus (pinakas, mas namit kon binulad pa kag may dyutay asin) and native chicken adobo (may gata, luya, bits of salt and vinegar-- no toyo or patis or it takes away the Ilonggo adobo style). I miss these foods especially on rainy season. I don't know why, but the incessant rain has something in it that brings back memory of my mother's kitchen (and darapugan) and all the pots and wooden utensils hanging our bamboo posts.

By the way, all foods above have been converted a month ago to a potentially very rich source of vegetable nutrients. I wonder what can grow up on that heap of fertilizer many months from now. Blurp... Ha! ha!

My Sister

Picked up today at Centennial airport my sister who came from Iloilo. On Monday she's leaving again for Georgia where she works as RN for the University Hospital. The last time we saw each other was when she came home 2 years ago, upon the request of our frail father who knew he wouldn't see her again, at least until he expired. Three weeks ago she came back to an undeniably different home, perhaps expecting a familiar greet, a sturdy frame and a fatherly smile. I could just imagine how her heart sank as she dragged herself, slowly, sadly, for the first time towards our father's tomb. There his body lay, motionless, voiceless and surely lifeless inside the cold steely box, unaware that my sister has come back wanting to see him but could not. As always, it's good to be spiritual. Surely, he smiles now that my sis is back with her paternal family. Now that she's coming back to the US, our paryers for him will come from different parts of the globe.

War

The Israeli-Hezbollah war has gotten deep into my nerves that I'm surfing more often now via my cellphone looking for its updates. Honestly, the ongoing war shifted my natural curiosity from pen collection to study of Israeli politics, middle east conflicts and the Caritas Lebanon. And war quotations. So, I'm posting these quotations from great names of what they say about war:

* The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. -Sun Tzu
* An eye for an eye only makes the whole world blind. -Mahatma Gandhi
* An unjust peace is better than a just war. -Cicero
* We are going to have peace even if we have to fight for it. -Dwight D. Eisenhower
* War can only be abolished through war, and in order to get rid of the gun it is necessary to take up the gun. -Mao Zedong
* We make war that we may live in peace. -Aristotle
* It is only the dead who have seen the end of war. -Plato
* I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones. -Albert Einstein

Unfortunately (or lucky for you), I can't find one coming from Ms. Arroyo. Oh, I forgot, did I say quotations from great names?

Today

In between this post and below are 6 days of work. Yes, 6 days because I only stayed 1 day and a half in my birthplace Pototan, Iloilo. My father's 2nd death anniversary was like a breeze, just like his life. Relatives from both my father and my mother's side from Dumarao came, and we are talking here of not less than 50 physical bodies in all, plus our neighbors and friends (note that this is no longer the burial of my father).

We heard a 9:00am mass then went to my father's tomb and said a short prayer ( it was a little bit longer than I expected) while the 12noon sun burned our skin, my hankie soaked in sweat. After our visit with my father's holy relic (well, that's how I see it now until the last earth day when glorified bodies are reunited with their spirits), we went home and took our lunch-- letchon, estofado, valenciana, menudo and other Spanish-sounding foods I hardly recognize.

On a small bedside altar, my mother placed cup-sized amount of foods served, a little candle burning in the middle and a picture of my father on the side, a creative expression of not only remembering the dead, but belief that they share in our abundance and earthly joy. Foods offered in prayer and gratitude becomes a profession of faith of the unity of the living and the dead, of the church militant and the saints (now, my religion subjects are getting flesh and form here. Pardon me my fundamentalist friends, but this is pure Catholic practices derived from the principles of other holy books your predecessors omitted from the Bible you are using now).

It's feels good to be back home again, making up for the time lost with loved ones and refamiliarizing with every nook and smell of the house you once grew up. The feeling gets intense when you know you only get to do it one day in a year. Today regrettably, that was over.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow I'll be away from Makati, a place that I feel I never belong to anyway, nor dreamt to be my retirement city. Tomorrow I won't be seeing Greenbelt 1, 2 or 3 or any structure that looks sturdy and tall or any place that smells Japanese ramen, Rustan's fresh, or Ayala-Edsa with all its toxic smoke and deafening noise.

In my hometown, in a far away, pristine place of Iloilo will I go. Tomorrow I'll take my little long-deserved rest. Yeah, only tomorrow.

Namfrel the Cat

Meet my favorite cat, Namfrel. Born on election day, we're so proud he doesn't have the character of our elected politicians today. Best of all, he's not as bitchy and arrogant as the biatch in Malacanang. When he sees you coming, he would rub his head down to his neck on your ankle in a playful manner-- a contrast to heads-a-rolling when the biatch in power smells dissent. Poverty has made Namfrel an extra ordinary cat. See how he makes both ends meet by having himself content with kangkong and rice. Vegetarian? No. He eats mice and roaches, too. Ha-ha!

When election promises fail, and all that is left are empty platters and platitudes, cats would become man's worst rival with adobong kangkong.

Life is moving out. And moving in.

I'd be leaving my crib of seven years for a better but costlier one, just a street parallel to my current address two weeks from now. Definitely I'll be missing this homey place, the neighbors, the free parking, the church just across my room and yes, the familiar smell of wooden floor and walls of a house built in the early eighties.

The new pad is a welcome change though. It's a one bedroom unit with large sliding door closet, toilet and bath, a pantry, a cooking area complete with exhaust top, sink, cupboard and sockets for every plug needed the modern world has probably invented. Ah well, I'm referring to telephone junction, 3-holed female socket for any machine, a cable outlet and female plugs on every wall-- now I can have my N6230, N6111, N7230 and basic phone Samsumg SGH-X150 all charged at the same time. The ceiling has provision for chandeliers but I might just use a halogen bulb. I plan to install smaller bulbs and mini spots for more drama, probably closer to a bar ambiance but with a minimalist touch.

There are trade-offs for this better crib. "Dumi" won't be parked across my room and is at risk of being chopped off from side mirrors to rear spoiler, or worst, carnapped. There is a guard at the ground floor of this condo but I doubt if watching tenant cars is one of his priorities. Just the same, I'd be paying higher monthly rentals, costlier electricity bills and full cable fee for this new crib-- so new I can still smell the fresh cement at the stairway and see tiny ants moving in with expectant march. So new that I'm the first tenant to complain that the window grills were not evenly painted. In any case, my Asi would be more delighted for the new comfort and convenience staying over my place.

So there. Next week I'll be busy for school and work. The week after, I'll be seen hauling from computer table to dusty shoe racks (hopefully sans the roaches and the mice). Yes indeed, I'm moving out and moving in...

...at my new place, you dirty head.

Honoring Estela

Lying on a hammock with my brother on the opposite end, we would hear her humming, her hands fidgeting with needle and string as she repairs some torn kiddie t-shirt. We would squint our eyes while pretending to be asleep, but would sometimes receive from her a lash with coconut leaf rib. That's everytime we feign to be snoring but with our eyes half open and make a silly little smile on our face.

I can still smell the rattan hammock, the squeaking sound of abaca ropes grinding on our corner posts as she subconciously push our boat-like hammock into a gentle swing. Often times, she is a quiet sweet image we were too comfortable to notice, too familiar to be seen and too trusty to be taken for granted. But she is the one constant being to correct me when I'm wrong, share my joy when I'm happy and accomplished, always hoping that wherever I go, all is well with me.

Today, I may not write about the many details of my admiration for her. This blog space my not suffice, and attempting to would do her injustice. Memories of my most adored past will always be traces of her generosity, kindness and care beyond description of the written words. I just want to remember her today and honor her for giving me to the world. Happy mother's day dearest Nanay!

Bangus Festival

I just arrived from Dagupan, Pangasinan for the Bangus Festival. All the hotels were fully booked so me and my boss, instead of getting a beach hotel which takes 20-30minutes ride to the main event, were content on taking a traveller's inn that has a warm aircon, a measly water supply and orange-bright curtains that brought us sunrise earlier than it should. Nevertheless, Dagupena's char-grilled bangus was excellent and our events did great. Session Road and Ethel Booba highlighted our event, front acts done by Masculados and Maricar Fernandez, talents of the White Castle Whiskey. My sponsors include Clusivol Adult and Nescafe Classic. The event was held at stage 9 along A.B. Fernandez St. and started around 7pm.

Mediafest

I have attended the first day of MediaFest today. Organized by the Philippine Association of National Advertisers (PANA) in cooperation with United Print Media Group (UPMG) and the Kapisanan ng mga Brodkaster ng Pilipinas (KBP), this media festival is the first of its kind in the Philippines where print and broadcast media have united their forces to re-educate advertisers and marketing people of the unique power of radio and print in bringing their message to the public. I haven't gone to any talk outlined by the organizers for today, but hopefully I will be able to attend one topic tomorrow.

Above is Mr. Butch Canoy of Radio Mindanao Network (KBP President), Ms. Blenn Fernando of Alaska Milk Corp. (PANA President) and Mr. Pepito Olarte of the Phil. Daily Inquirer (UPMG President).

Pakwan, Pakyo!

...Not meant to insult PDI as well. Neither the size of this water melon with a spade-sized spoon. This hot hot summer, I don't care about anything anymore than ice cold luscious-red water melon. Tomorrow, the headlines would be something like... "Josua, Nanigas Dahil sa Pakwan".

And the whole country would ask: "Josua who?"

Letche kayo! Kumain na lang kasi ng malamig na pakwan!

A street car named Dumi

They named him Dumi. I have no problem these little smart-ass brats would call my second- hand car Dumi. My classmate-friends were just creatively candid—I pointed to them a dusty, silvery, freshly-out-of-talyer Lancer and in just seconds they all agreed to call him “Dumi”. Funny and memorable, only if you really know where and why it was named so (Tom spotted Kim, Camille got reassured she really was a girl and Apple kept wondering if the Baguio guy has gone to this kind of place).

Just the same, the next day, I treated Dumi a seventy-peso shower and a vacuum of his smelly gut. I went to school to hand out cum laude (clap! clap!) Camille her list of prospect employer ad-agencies. Before she could introduce me to her mom and biological (her emphasis) sisters, she introduced them first to Dumi. Brat girl. She named her lumot-green Honda “Finding” and a friend’s car that’s regularly parked beside her “Nemo”. So, shall we name Prof. Ethics' car “Fatal” and his bestfriend’s car “Attraction?” Hmmm… "Chocolate" and "Kiss" just sounds better.

Easter Sunday

Can’t you just imagine the conversation that God had with Jesus on the first Easter? Today let’s think about the joy and accolades that the Father gave to Jesus.

“My Son, I am so glad that the trial is over and that you have triumphed. You endured the shame and the hatred of a people who did not understand that you came for them. Your love was shunned, yet you gave it so freely. I am so proud that you turned your cheek even when you were spit upon. I am so proud that you showed my people what true love looks like."

“Thank you, my Son, for bringing my people home. Your death has torn in two the veil that separated us. Your blood has washed away their sins. No longer do they have to hide as Adam and Eve did. Instead, they can now come into the light and receive all the healing and joy I have stored up for them."

“My Son, you are coming back to me. How I long to embrace you and clothe you in glory once more. You have defeated sin, and once more you can see me in my fullness. We are no longer separated! You are leaving those you have loved with an everlasting love, but each of them will join you one day in the kingdom, where the angels will dance and the elders will bow down in worship. That day is coming, Son, when we all will be together at last."

“O my people, see the victory my Son has gained for you. Come join in the celebration feast. You were lost but are now found. You were blind but now can see. Come now, and share in our love!”

“Dear Jesus, we love you! Thank you for your gift of eternal life. You have made it possible for us to return to the Father and to know his love intimately. Who are we that you would love us this much? No less than your very own children. All praise and glory to you now and forever!”

Acts 10:34,37-43; Psalm 118:1-2,16-17,22-23; Colossians 3:1-4 [from WAU]

Work pa rin!

Made a site for my events updates. You may click on the Bombo icon to the left, or click here what I did in just an hour. Hopefully I can update pics in here from time to time.

Fleeting College Life

After a month of chasing egocentric clients and pampering the management of my new office with fresh sales, this one night came when I can still manage to sit on my dusty computer chair and turn on my grieving PC. Oh yes, I totally forgot my postpaid PLDT Vibe is running already, and I just don’t get it when they still bill me with the much slower connection. (I know, in this country, consumer rights are as trivial as food for its street kids.)

But online I went, and how I missed writing again. Everyday the itch of writing would haunt me. Of just sitting in one dark corner, motionless and soundless but my fingers, scrawling of things that are either tragic or orphic.

Once again, I opened my classmates’ journals and websites. Their written thoughts and digital images spreading on my computer screen conjured happy and nostalgic moments. A familiar feeling that swarmed me long time ago, maybe ten years back, of fresh faces that’s probably smeared now with the harsh realities of life. Well, I recently saw some, much older, plumper and acerbic.

College life is a concoction of tears and sweat, laughter and grief, some forever etched on dainty logbooks, others on the oft-forgotten blue books. A friend, Jerry Uy, has presented such thoughts on his website, with his own version of honoring the sweet passage of time that goes farther and farther along with the images of his (our) friends. If we could only capture time in a bottle, I would choose one from college, where life is kinder and people are truer. I like Amy’s angst, Nikki’s passion for pets, Arcie’s escapades, Angelie’s girlie notes and the many bubbly smart-asses I happen to befriend.

To them I take off my hat and wish them luck!

Moreau Rouge

Sounds like Moulin Rouge, that Oscars awardee movie starring Nicole Kidman (Satine) and Ewan McGregor (Christian) where the famous line of Toulouse-Lautrec (John Leguizamo) was uttered, "There was a boy, a very strange enchanted boy..."

But, hell no, it has nothing to do with movies, or outrageous sets and costumes, frantic choreography, or endless variety of camera angles and editing tricks. Moreau Rouge is a cheap table wine with 12% vol. of alcohol my friend-boss recommended me so I get to sleep earlier than my usual slumber. Sometimes I wonder why cheap wines are much bitter than costlier ones, like say Asti. I assume sugar in France, or Spain, is costlier than in Italy where Novellino tastes better, not bitter. I don't know how wine should taste to be authentic, but given the fact that any beer is less healthier than wine, I'd rather prefer the taste of the latter than die sooner.

So there, so you'll know why I have 2 bottles of different wines in my ref. I feel groggy now but why should I care, it feels better than absorbing all the annoying farcical scandals and politickings in the Philippine government. Whacking your TV with empty wine bottle is another way of protecting your sanity from the evening news.

For now, I just hope to wake up in the morning with our lost cat returning home alive.

---

Btw, I feel flattered to be mentioned in Manuel L. Quezon III's blog (kahit link lang, at least nabasa nya) last December.

International Women's Day

March 8. Paseo de Roxas cor. Ayala Ave. International Women's Day.

Manong Guard and Manong Driver. Pasimple pa kayo. Sige na nga, Women's Day naman. Pero sino sa inyo?

Gabriela and Pinoy Big Brother? Mas lalong hindi bagay. Ok na sana, anti PGMA ang network pero pro-feudal and programming-- di ba pwedeng sunugin na lang ang bahay ni kuya?

Sino ang mas pikon?

My first thesis was "Content Analysis of Ninez Cacho-Olivares' Column About Cory Aquino in the Philippine Daily Inquirer" in 1992. It was an approved topic, and I was able to finish data gathering and classifying the words and phrases used by Ms. Olivares to describe Cory Aquino.
At some point, she called Ms. Aquino "coward who buries her head in the sand", "thief" and similar descriptions. As far as I can recall, Ms. Olivares has lambasted Cory Aquino far worse than Gloria Arroyo today in her columns. The only difference is that Cory was more tolerant with criticisms than Gloria. In fact, Gloria is more vindictive, to a point that she rejoiced when she learned that cases have been filed against Ms. Olivares and her two editors. See Daily Tribune's report on this.

Unfortunately, my stint as USC councilor and being chairman of the Popular Struggles Committee at the height of the campaign to oust the US Bases has deferred me to finish it and eventually drop the topic. My 2nd thesis topic is "Study of the decline of newspaper readers in the Philippines" (don't dare start counting the years!). I have not yet concluded my analysis but I still go with my theory that newspaper readership increases when controversial issues pop up. More so when the issue in question is the newspaper itself. To quote the Daily Tribune, "On the part of the Tribune, it was an unwelcomed free publicity, as publisher Ninez Cacho-Olivares has said in an interview, circulation of the newspaper has rocketed since the raid. " Taking that out as a variable, is the newspaper readership really declining?

Shall I answer that question next semester? I can afford to have Inc when the publishing climate is this messy. Then may I scream: "Kasalan ni Gloria lahat ito!"

Over Reactions? No.

Today, 20 years ago, I was in an unknown rural place, watching on TV the unfolding of an event which liberating effects I still have to appreciate. In college, stories of heroic misadventures of those who were party to it replay like Harry Potter or the Lord of the Ring of today-- I can still recall how my Lolo recount his risky ventures with the Japs, criss-crossing his arms that once held a deadly bolo to protect his family.

Well, EDSA 1 is 20 years past. Just yesterday Ms. Arroyo declared a state of emergency and cancelled permit to rallies by those who wish to celebrate freedom gained from the longest-running dictatorship of the world.

On the same day, her minions arrested personalities critical to her administration, the likes of Prof. Randy David, Crispin Beltran and Satur Ocampo among others. Two months ago I attended Ka Beltran's forum on the issue of Oil Crisis from which I took data of my online article about the topic. Also, two months ago, I bumped on an acquintance Anto, Satur's son, who happens to be an orgmate at CNS and Journ Club in UP Diliman. Of course their lives have always been on the edge, and I know some who died for the cause. I have some friends who did, and some who are still at it.

The irony is, I also know some who, by sheer political ambitions and selfish motives, became oblivious of the cause they once fought for. Oh well, excluding myself standing at "critical cooperation" mode, Mike Defensor has gone far. We used to be in the same fence babbling the same slogans. He was our predecessor in the univ. student council, a respected mentor. Until he drifted away, consumed by the fires of the system and its evils that he once fought against.

Just an hour ago, I watched him at ANC justifying the state of emergency, rationalising why the Daily Tribune was taken over by policemen, upon orders of Malacanang, short of closing them down. In case of a takeover, he said, the government could even have a say on the paper’s editorial content. I can still remember how he blew the megaphone lambasting anti-riot policemen breaking the students' line that protects the Katipunan squatters. Oh, how he valued much freedom of expression. Looking back, he owe a great deal of what he enjoys now from the Bill of Rights he once so gallantly trumpeted.

Meanwhile, a new breed of disenfranchised, idealist and driven generation is catching up. I can only guess what comes next as things go worse.

Lost Pet

Lost cat, named "Badjing", a spoof for her bungee jumping mode when still a kitten. Sweet, regal and smart, she has become the family's favorite. Last seen (presumably) along Esperanza Street, Caloocan, last Feb. 17 outside of my girl friend's house. If found, please tag me, or call my number 0920-9021208. For details you may also see Yna's link. I made reference to this cat in my previous friendster blog. Cash reward awaits finder.