So, what?

(excerpt from my journal entry dated February 8, 2012, a Wednesday)

Napagalitan ko si Tatay nung isang araw. Kasi, kapag wala daw ako, panay daw ang demand ng pagkain kina Ate Gina or Kuya Jing. Kasi daw yung meryenda niya, hindi daw siya nabubusog. Sabi ko, “Tay, ang meryenda pantawid-gutom lang dapat ‘yun, hindi pampabusog.” Tutal kasi, maya-maya lang, maghahapunan na siya. So, bakit kailangan pa niya magpakabusog nang husto? Ewan.

We get along more smoothly these days, in fairness to him. He doesn’t contradict me as much as before and I rarely nag at him. Not that I’m a nagger. I just say what I have to say (as firmly as I can), and then let it go. ‘Yun na ‘yun. I don’t dwell on it with much talk . . . .

I haven’t posted a new entry on my blog this week. I have to focus on that also. And my short stories and essays. I have listed down my Palanca entries for this year, but I still haven’t got around to starting any of them. Eto ang nakakainis kapag kumpiyansa ka sa kakayahan mo, e. Pabanjing-banjing.

Anlalaki ng sulat ko a. It’s because of this ballpen. Anlaki kasi ng ball point. I don’t know which is better: writing this big or writing smaller as with the ballpen I had before? But I might go back to the old ballpen. I feel more at ease with writing really small, albeit mahirap basahin. But then, who else is going to read this except me?

Just now, I imagined myself really old and with very blurry vision, and I’d have someone read these entries aloud to me, and then the reader stumbles on words written really, really small, and he/she would consult me about it, and I wouldn’t have any idea what the word is since I myself couldn’t read it—what with my impaired vision. Aaargh!

But then I don’t expect to live that long. I mean, if I live that long, would it make me happy? Yeah, sure, that would give me more time to accomplish more things and fulfill more dreams that would come along. But then comes this notion about life and its vanities. I don’t know.

Sometimes, ‘yung purpose na iniisip ko na para sa akin, iniisip ko kung para saan nga ba ‘yun. To what end? Naiisip ko din na perhaps it’s merely to satisfy the ego, which I sometimes think is rather selfish. Lots of questions and answers, all extended and furthered on with “So, what?”

“It will feed the hungry.” So, what? There will still be hungry people everywhere.

“It will explain the mysteries of the universe.” So, what? You will still have to live with the complications of the universe whether you get to explain it or not.

Ultimately, no matter how vain it is, living in the moment is just the most sensible thing there is. While it’s exciting to live with the future in mind, living fully in the moment has its own rewards that no “So, what?” can take away. And it's not even about the ego.

Elementary

(my journal entry dated May 8, 2012, a Tuesday)

I’m writing now with Matt Monroe playing in the background. “Softly as I Leave You.” I don’t know what gave Kuya Jing the idea to turn up the volume of the sound system already. Which doesn’t mean it’s not okay. It’s just that he doesn’t usually do so unless I’m already up and about.

I’m a late-riser, see. And even when I’m already awake in my room, I still don’t make it known to everyone, not until after I’ve finished writing the day’s journal entry. As much as possible, I like it quiet when I’m writing. I wonder what gave me away. Now, I’m so distracted as I write this.

Softly as I leave you. Kuya Jing told me years ago that it’s his favorite Matt Monroe song. Except for a few, he hated almost everyone of his teachers back in elementary. One of his favorite teachers taught him this song for their graduation day.

Right now, I’m imagining the song being sung by a children’s choir, and yes, I agree, it does sound wonderful. Perhaps today is senti day for Kuya Jing. Perhaps he had a dream, and he woke up sad or wistful or whatever.

Speaking of teachers, I too had love/hate relationship with them in elementary. Or rather, love or hate or just forgettable—that is, if you can afford to. Young minds don’t forget easily. You remember which name goes with which impression. Like Mrs. Bondoc’s cheeks reminded me of sinigang na baboy. Or Mrs. Tolentino’s eyes were like tausi beans. Or Mrs. Sapnu’s mestiza head with siyete haircut looked like freshly cubed papaya.

There were subjects you took seriously, and there were those you just go through, although on the whole, elementary for me was just that—elementary. I mean, I remember doing projects and home assignments, but studying for exams? No, I don’t. Not at all.

Although it’s remarkable that, unwary of political correctness, teachers then can be real bullies. They could hurt you. They could slap you on certain parts of your body, say, your arm, when they told you, “Arms raised forward!” and you were sloppy about it. Or they could pull your hair when you didn’t do your homework. Depending on how angry you made them. By the tuft or by a small pinch just above your sideburn.

Or if you were the notorious type (one who didn’t let a single day pass without a mischief of any kind), then you were made to kneel on a pile of salt or mongo beans on the floor. And if you were to serve as an example for the entire class’ edification, you did your penance on top of the teacher’s desk.

There was this teacher who was adviser to the lowest section of the 5^th graders. Or was it the 6^th? Anyway, her infamy was legendary. You see, classroom windows in public schools then had wood jalousies.  Now, that teacher was said to have this habit of hurling students out through the classroom windows. And she did it so forcefully, the errant student made it whole and alive outside without any damage whatsoever to the windows. Kinda like David Copperfield-ish. Amazing. Thinking about it now, it’s hilarious. Just the stuff children come up with, spread about, and take seriously.

The teachers you took for granted were those who were inconsistent and who got angry without conviction. Those you took seriously were those who spoke softly but carried a big stick, while those you would rather risk a future of illiterate misery were those who spoke loud—very loud—and carried a big—very big—stick. Mga demonya na nga, pinaglihi pa sa aswang. And parents then thought it was okay for teachers to be like that and do things like that.

I remember one time, Nanay took me with her to the burial of a neighbor [syempre, patay na], and in the jeepney on the way to the cemetery, we sat across one of them hell-spawn teachers, and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand how Nanay could be so brave, even jolly, what with the devil before her. They were even joking with each other.

Back then, I thought I’d never grow up getting over being afraid of her and the others of her kind. But I turned out okay, I guess. I still believe in corporal punishment in schools—the reasonable kind, that is.

January–September Classes, Anyone?

Why not? Why limit the options to just June–March and September–May? Why not exercise your imagination?

Here are ten reasons why schooldays would be best held from January to September.

(1)    With their 13th-month pay and Christmas bonuses in December, people have plenty of money prior to school opening month.

(2)    People can sort and exercise control over their finances and life priorities. Instead of excessive bingeing, why not prioritize school expenses for a change? Which would it be: New Year fireworks or school supplies? New shoes for Christmas or new shoes for school? Holiday vacation or school tuition? The point is: It will make parents REALLY think things through before spending their money.

(3)    Schooldays can be crammed into fewer months. Without the customary holidays (Christmas, New Year, All Saints’ Day, All Souls’ Day), as well as class suspensions due to bad weather around the latter part of the year, the school year could end earlier. Semester breaks can be shortened to just a week. Teachers, students, school administrators: Think just how much you could accomplish with more free time left to you!

(4)    Around the months when the “bad weather” season sets in, students would have spent many months in school already (January to June). This somehow guarantees that they would have already gained substantial learning, and their learning momentum set on steady. Would they think of leaving school and not finish the rest of the year when bad weather comes and floods their schools? Would they think of not going to school anymore when they have just a couple of months left to finish the year? I don’t think so.

(5)    In the summer months (March–May), the students are with their teachers—teachers who can guide them to propagate Fire Prevention or other disaster awareness campaigns, or remind them (and in turn, their families) of things they can do NOW in light of what could happen LATER when the typhoon season comes. The schools can be an efficient medium for the propagation of government-issued PREVENTIVE measures and advisories to the public beforehand.

(6)    Wouldn’t it be better if, once the school year is over, our kids are safe at home with us while the rest of typhoon season continues? Wouldn’t it be better if, around Christmas time, the schools don’t add to the heavy traffic in the metro?

(7)    October, November and December are busy months for business and commerce. Students on vacation can find temporary employment/training with companies who are at their peak season around these months.

(8)    October, November and December are also opportune months for people to hone their business/entrepreneurship skills. With many up and coming occasions and events, it’s a good time for students to learn about the value of hard work and money. Schools and companies can work together for this.

(9)    Besides the commercial opportunities, October, November and December can also be “reparation months.” These are times when the nation is usually trying to rise up again amidst calamities that hit the country (face it: we are in a danger zone). Students can help out in charity drives or volunteer programs that help uplift a community.

(10) Families bonding and doing things together are nice. Culminating at Christmas time (or New Year’s—for those who don’t celebrate Christmas), it would be much nicer. In my opinion.

Government's Options

(excerpt from my journal entry dated August 12, 2012, a Sunday)

I was born and raised in the 1970s, schooled for most of the 1980s up to mid-1990s, and considered a grown up and mature adult around the turn of the millennium. No, I won’t be attaching any significance to that fact, other than the coincidence that by the time I’ve been empowered enough to do something about the world I live in, it turns out that I and my generation are inheritors of a fucked-up world and that reparations must be in order.

My perspective: global warming is NOT the problem; ill-preparedness IS.

Global warming is a phenomenon of the planet. Sabi nga ni Al Gore, it’s an “inconvenient truth”—truth that we must live with, that is if you want the species to continue living on the planet. Ngayon, kung ayaw mong indahin ang global warming, e humanap ka muna ng ibang planetang matitirhan mo.

Now, whether or not it’s the human race who created this “monster,” it is rather too late to be pinpointing that out, isn’t it? It is much wiser to pinpoint, instead, that the human race CAN do something about it.

But in the meantime, there will be Ondoy III, Ondoy IV, Ondoy V, and so on (not counting the earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, diseases, etc.), to contend with. This means the effects of global warming are already out there.

It’s either they are out to get us, if we let them; or they’re out there just to test us and make us stronger (and smarter).

Now, which do we choose?

That’s the two options that our government has for now: (1) Let the people just weather the situation everytime it happens, or (2) help the people improve their lives and adjust to the PHENOMENON.

For option 1, that’s what we’ve been doing all these years. Bumaha. Ilikas ang mga tao. Bigyan ng relief. Ibalik sa mga bahay nila pag humupa na yung baha. Next year, ganun ulit.

Nakaka-uta na.

It’s ironic. We’re living in the 21^st century, yet this is not so different from the way our ancestors survived during their caveman days.  “Ungga, taas baha!” “Akyat tayo bundok.” “Ungga, wala na baha.” “Tayo balik na atin kweba.”

Angyayabang ng mga pulitiko kung umasta. Yet, they let their constituents survive like cavemen. Ano’ng nangyari sa nakukubra nilang tax money?

For option 2, the least that government can do now is for the waterways to be de-clogged, deepened and widened, and for the dikes to be taller and stronger. In the meantime, truly enforce the laws governing the logging industry and environment protection. Pinaka-basic na ‘yun.

[Also, bakit hindi i-televise ang mga bidding sa mga projects ng gobyerno? Pera naman ng taong-bayan ‘yun, kaya dapat lang siguro na alam at nababantayan ng taong-bayan kung saan talaga napupunta ang pera nila. ‘Yun ngang impeachment, tine-televise pa nila, e wala naman idinagdag na value ‘yung pagsasapubliko noon sa buhay ng ordinaryong Pinoy. Sayang lang kuryente.]

But if the government really wants to be ambitious about it, it can entertain ideas that border on science fiction: Float the city! Or at least the low-lying areas. Let the waters freely pass through beneath the  ground we live on. Konting imagination naman!

‘Yun nga lang, the means of support will have to be really, really strong and well-adjusted (to withstand earthquakes) and well guarded (against terrorist attacks). And it would cost a lot of time, money and energy, too.

Right now, I’m thinking, what if all our tax money really got to go where they are supposed to go? Angganda siguro ng Pilipinas.

Giants in the Sky

(excerpt from my journal entry dated February 20, 2012, a Monday)

It had rained almost the whole night last night so when we woke up this morning, it was so cold and foggy.

I got up at around half past seven but then went back to bed again, then finally got up again before 8 because the slightest noise outside my room was keeping me from going back to sleep again.

It’s cloudy all over. If you have problems, this kind of weather would surely aggravate that.

I’ve always liked this kind of weather. It’s so different from the usual sunny weather we have here. Having this weather once in a while is exciting to me because it brings me to a stranger world, gloomy, and with the possibility of the unusual. It sparks the imagination somehow.

Just now, I’m thinking if Edgar Allan Poe or J.R.R. Tolkien preferred to write in this kind of weather. Perhaps they had a longing for something other than the gloom and the cold, and in their attempts at escape, they wrote and brought to life plots and characters that add color and make sense the dreary landscape.

In my head, I now hear Isao Tomita’s version of Claude Debussy’s compositions. Now, that is otherworldly.

Listening to “Reverie,” I can picture myself taking a solitary walk on a deserted street lined with trees and grass on a day just like this, except darker and more still. It had just rained, and another downpour threatens.

And up in the sky, celestial bodies move about beyond the floating dark clouds, in between which the dark of outer space is seen, and the celestial bodies tingle as they twinkle in gold and silver colors. That would make your heart thump wildly, perhaps even get you scared, but then it is just as wonderful, being alone in the vastness of the dark and the stars, yet watched over by . . . I don’t know . . . whatever you imagine.

Giants? Winged giants.

There is a festival of some kind happening in the heavens, and the giants think no one can see them from down below because they think everyone has gone indoors because of the cold weather.

You can hear the giants sing and play their instruments. The child giants move playfully about and leave a trail of stardust that rings in your ears, while the bigger giants wear robes that swirl like the milky way.

I watch them in secret, awed, but afraid that should they see me, they would glare at me, and squish me with the tippestmost tip of their smallest finger. Or just to hear their voice in anger would probably make my heart beat so hard it would leap out of my chest.

But when they sang, they had the gentlest voices that spread and cover and ring across the universe. One would not want to distract them from their singing and make them roar instead. But then, that would not be the way they are.

Maybe they cared. But not enough to go into the intimacies and details of our existence. Or maybe they were equally amazed by us, yet not wanting us to see them, because we are so foolish we would not know what to do. We might do something that would prove detrimental either to them or to us. Or to our relationship.

Besides, what fun is there in watching us watching them? (Or perhaps being constantly on the lookout for them?)

Perhaps when we die, we’d get to know them. For real. For now, they just live in our fantasies.