Ondoy aftermath: September 27, 2009

NOTE: This was a post I made in my old blog the day after Ondoy hit. I was in Calumpit, supposedly to celebrate Tatay's birthday. We were supposed to leave in the afternoon, but when we learned that NLEX pulled off a Gandalf (YOU SHALL NOT PASS!), we had no choice but to spend the night there - without change of clothing or extra toiletries.  Just now, PAGASA announced that the accumulated rainfall is 472mm in 22 hours, greater than Ondoy's 455 mm in 24 hours. 

[ETA] I'm home. Aside from Twitter, Wikipedia has the the storm on the main page. I see CNN also has it. Facebook is full of it. It's one of the worst we've had - a month's worth of rainfall came down on us in 6 hours. Not as epic as the one in Turkey, but for a country that's so used to storms hitting us month after month, this storm was something. Below is something I wrote earlier today, half-expecting that I won't be home early today, but I got home while the sun was still shining. Whew. Thank God.

Writing this down on my notebook, to be posted online once I touchdown in Manila. With "Off The Wall" playing on The Green Menace, I write this. Mark is sleeping beside me - it is 9:20 AM. He and the other guy cousins stayed up all night - mosquitoes, among other factors contributed to this.

There is no electricity. Murasaki-chan's (note: Sony Ericsson P1i) running dangerously low on battery, which is partly my fault because I've been updating like crazy on our situation there. I decided to use Barahime (note: office phone) as my primary phone late last night, so I can let various people know that I'm fine.

Even if Bulacan was hit with Signal #2, our house in Calumpit is on high ground, so it would take one heck of a rainfall for it to reach the house. Aside from this, when we woke up this morning, we saw how much the damage was from last night. A banana tree fell. Pampanga River - which is literally steps away from our backyard - overflew, the water lilies now beckoning at our gates.

At front, the flood was thigh deep when we woke up at 6 AM. Three hours on, it's just a little over the knee. The elevation leading towards our house is completely submerged till the second gate. Outside - beyond the first gate, people are fishing. We got some fish from them, probably for pangat for lunch later. Papa is fishing for pangasius - the idea of fishing in our own (overflowing) fishpond amuses me.

Back home, our house didn't get flooded (thank God) but it's pretty much a waterworld outside - which is expected for Manila. Listening to the radio I hear that NLEX is starting to become passable. If we spent the night in the expressway, it would have been a nightmare.

I'm wearing my lola's duster. It completes the whole farm look, I think, which adds to the amusement of the current situation. I imagine that this would have been harder if not a lot of us were here. Cousins, titas and titos who have the same wacky wavelength - all of us together somehow managed to take a disaster like this in stride.

We estimate that we'll be able to go home by late noon earliest, dinnertime latest. By that time, I hope all roads are moderately passable, and we can manage to sleep on soft beds and pillows tonight! Plus, I have a ton of pictures to post to show my own take of yesterday's storm, which will surely amuse family members that were lucky/unlucky enough not to be here.

What an interesting weekend.

Intense

We aren't doing any better from last night's rain. We're doing much worse now.

Metro Manila is flooded all around. I'm grateful that my house isn't flooded yet (given Manila's rep for flooding, in general), but I'm sure the story outside will be very different.

Click image to biggify =)

This was how Project NOAH saw my part of the city as of 1:20 PM-ish. By the way, Project NOAH is awesome, and much props goes to PAGASA-DOST for making this happen. We're at an intense level of rainfall, not to mention a RED warning being raised over the whole metro. 

If you're reading this, and you're outside the Philippines, please keep the people here in your thoughts and prayers. If you see tweets from the likes of @MMDA @PAGASA-DOST, @govph and the major media outfits, please retweet them so news about floods and rescue efforts can be spread. I think right now, the most immediate need for evacuation centers are food and drinking water, not to mention clothing. Rubber boats will come in VERY HANDY for rescue operations as well. 

This has been posted like crazy, but duplication is key for a crisis:

Ayala Malls and MOA are also open for people who are stranded due to the rain.

At this point, the key here is to just stay put and be vigilant, keeping ourselves abreast of what's happening around us. Also, don't goout unless you really need to. 

And for those who are associating the rain with the RH Bill, I feel sorry for the lot of you. I feel sorry that you didn't even consider that maybe our trash problem contributed to the flooding that's happening now. I feel sorry that you had to use your God as a cover for your cause. Most of all, I feel sorry for you because you see this "God" as a god who punishes people and takes pleasure in doing so. It's just...ugh. The least thing you can do is put off all of these banters and look out for your neighbor, whether he/she is pro-RH or not. 

Rainy days and Mondays (not connected to The Carpenters at all)

"The reason why people sing songs for other people is because they want to have the power to arouse empathy, to break free from the narrow shell of the self and share their pain and joy with others."- Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle

I find that whatever frustration I have with work and life in general, I can always let loose with music. That is why I love my weekends, even if they are so taxing.

Last week was especially hard. Stuff at work didn't go as planned, and along the way I have lost all interest to watch The Dark Knight Rises (unless it's for free). I've had to battle a teeny bit of depression early Friday morning as well (no thanks to U2 sound tripping, but I still love their music to bits). 

But when there's music - especially if you're creating the music yourself, and not just listening to it - there's no other high I'd rather have. Of course, there's the high of watching a good movie, or reading a great book, but a music high is the ultimate high. If I'm involved, I always give 120% of myself, even if it means falling flat on the floor and getting bruised on one side, or getting cramps, or looking like a loon. When there's music, ever inhibition is thrown out the window. It's just me and my audience of One.

--- --- ---

So, everyone remembers Ondoy and Pedring, right? And, if I may go further back, Milenyo? All of these storms had one thing in common - they happened towards the last week of September. 

But tonight, we got a RED warning over the whole of Metro Manila. After tonight's class, I had to brave a flooded Taft Ave just to get home. I walked 50% of the way, then when I realized I couldn't go any farther due to the flood being above the gutter of the island along Taft, a tricycle came. I got a ride from where I was to San Andres corner Quirino Ave for P40, then took a sidecar from where I was dropped off going to Leon Guinto.

My feet got WET. I hate it when that happens. When I got home, I got the Lush shower gel and used it to scrub my feet. LUSH TALAGA ANG GINAMIT KO (your arguments are invalid XD). It was that hardcore. XD

Tonight, the rain comes and goes - which is a good thing. It's not an Ondoy, but I'm sure for a lot of people now, it may be a repeat, and my heart goes out to them. But all of this rain on August makes September even more unsettling. I really hope that the government has prepared. I think we have learned immensely from the past few years, and there are systems that are now in place that make dissemination of information faster than it was in years past (special mention goes to Project NOAH; I've been tinkering it and it's AWESOME). I just hope that people don't take warnings for granted, cause strangely, some still do.

--- --- ---

And, in light of this week's most anticipated vote, I leave you with this quote from my awesome great-grandfather (I wish!) C.S. Lewis from Mere Christianity:

People say, 'The Church ought to give us a lead." That is true if they mean it in the right way, but false if they mean it in the wrong way. (…) But of course, when they ask for a lead from the Church most people mean they want the clergy to put out a political programme. That is silly. The clergy are those particular people within the whole Church who have been specially trained and set aside to

 look after what concerns us as creatures who are going to live for ever: and we are asking them to do a quite different job for which they have not been trained. The job is really on us, on the laymen. The application of Christian principles, say, to trade unionism or education, must come from Christian trade unionists and Christian schoolmasters: just as Christian literature comes from Christian novelists and dramatists - not from the bench of bishops getting together and trying to write plays and novels in their spare time.

No truer words have been spoken. 

Dissolved | Mixing and matching

This Monday, I got the biggest scare of my grad school life. My Copywriting class was dissolved.

DISSOLVED. This was unheard of during my undergrad (you pretty much should expect a full class almost all the time with the sheer size of CBE), and so when it was announced. I thought, "Now what the heck am I supposed to do now? MY MISCELLANEOUS FEES ARE JUST AS HIGH AS THREE UNITS OF LOAD, AND NOW I AM DEPRIVED OF ONE SUBJECT?!"

There was a lot of drama that involved going to the Department, the Registrar's Office, and the Library (trip to the latter wasn't related to requesting for a special class, but simply to return the equipment I borrowed, which should have been used if weren't for the announcement). I don't know if I was high on something, but when I came home I didn't eat even if I was hungry, and it took me a long time to get to sleep, and I woke up before 4AM, which was waaaaay too early. 

To cut the story short, today I got an email that the class has been made regular again. /sigh  But seriously, I cannot endure again the drama of a dissolved class. Ayoko na.

--- --- ---

Okay. Hot topic on the Internet this week - the Bayo ad. How quickly did we move on from the Coronanovela, people? XD Anyway, I digress.

I don't find the add offensive. I just think it is poorly worded. I am 100% Filipino, but if you've seen me, I can easily pass for another Asian race: Chinese (I get this all the time), Korean (which intensifies when I am beside one, or heavens, if I sing a K-pop song), and surprisingly, Japanese (now this I find kind of odd, cause I fangirl Japanese people, and I don't look like them at all. But when I dress like one, let's just say that it's a story for another time. XD). I'm pretty sure I could also pass for Malaysian.

I bring this up because of this: How do you define what the "Filipino" race is, to begin with? As early as Grade 1, we were taught that our race primarily sprung from the Ita, Indones, and Malay. They were immigrants, and not indigenous to the land. Add to that the 333 years of Spanish colonization, which resulted into the mestizos and mestizas. Oh, and let us not forget the chinitas and chinitos as well, cause the Chinese thrived during the colonial period as well. 

What's my point? I think that the Filipino race has ALWAYS been mixed from the very beginning. Yes, there are some theories that there were indigenous people prior to the arrival of the I, I, and M - but it's simply theory. The point is, we have been mixed and matched from the start pa lang. Almost everyone has claim to Spanish blood (I have, for one. No verified claim for Chinese - yet!) that it's hardly anything special - unless, of course, you are almost pure-bred mestizo. 

Anyway, this isn't really a big deal (for me). If I have to break down my mix, I'll have to say I'm 57% water, 20% Lasallian, 10% mad, and 3% Trekkie. 

I laugh at mixing and matching. I do what I want. 

Brown, blue, and orange - a morning at CIW

"Magsuot ka ng kahit na ano, wag lang brown, blue, or orange."

"Puwede bang mag-shorts?" I asked.

--- --- ---

Image from DefinitelyFilipino.com

Last Saturday, I went to the Correctional Institute for Women (CIW) in Mandaluyong. I was ordered asked to go there to do ministry to the inmates, along with some other people who are also in music. 

To be honest, I wasn't really expecting much with the visit. At the very least, I wished that it wouldn't be hot, and that it will be uneventful (i.e. no encounters of the weird kind). Prior to this I haven't been inside a prison before, and everything I knew about prison life I've seen in Mission: Impossible movies and the like.

The first thought that came to mind the night before was what I was supposed to wear. Given the heat, I'd rather be wearing shorts, but I was advised not to, along with the very helpful tip of not wearing anything brown, blue, or orange (which was what the inmates wore, color-coded according to the gravity of their offense).

I wore purple. With leggings. 

I asked if I could bring a camera, and I was told I couldn't because the identities of the women inside should be protected. That seemed reasonable enough, but it would have been awesome to have had one though. For one, this post would have been written much easier. 

--- --- ---

Our group was led inside without much fuss. We were advised to leave our cellphones behind at the car, which we've already done before going inside the facility. We were body searched (always a very unpleasant experience for me, even if it's a woman doing it) after our hands were stamped. Then, we were led inside the complex.

Everyone was very courteous. There was a good morning thrown my way every 30 seconds or so for the first ten minutes I was in there. I quietly took in everything - the obvious abundance of orange shirts and dresses with the occasional blue and brown, the long queue of the telephone booths which was their major connection to the outside world and loved ones, the beauty salon (I was tempted to try it out, to be honest - they had nail art!), and the impeccable surroundings that made littering seem like a mortal sin.

We made our way to a few flights of stairs until we reached the covered roof deck which had an amazing view of the Makati, Mandaluyong, and Ortigas skyline. There were also two keyboards in one end, with an overhead projector (is this real life?!). There were also chairs neatly arranged in rows. 

After a while, there was some prayer done, and some talking. Soon there was singing, reading, even laughter, and then everything became solemn again, and then tears.

And then my heart was full.

It was such an eye-opening experience to have been a small part of these women's lives even for a few hours - to have hugged them in spite of every rule I've placed on myself regarding personal space, to have shared in their tears as they prayed for breakthroughs in their cases, for forgiveness, to rejoice in every season of their lives, especially in this season of isolation from the outside world. 

I found myself crying at times during that morning. How often have I complained about things not going my way, or how hard life is ... what are my difficulties compared to these women who have been separated from family and loved ones - some even carry their pictures along with their IDs as a reminder. The food inside, I've heard from their own accounts, was so awful - a can of tuna was shared by three people. And through all this, they still have hope - a wild hope, if you will - that it could only get better.

--- --- ---

It was rather timely that in my various searches made through the Internet, I (re)learned something about "compassion". Compassion, from its Latin origin, actually meant to suffer with another. It's far from an act of kindness, though it is slightly close to empathy - to understand and share in the feelings of another. 

When I was doing ministry there (and believe you me, I am hardly ever prepared for these things, but when push comes to shove, I somehow get a grip of what is expected of me), from the moment my hand touched one's shoulder, I felt compassion at that instant, and I found myself crying with them. I remember learning from somewhere that while you're doing ministry, you're not supposed to close your eyes, and you shouldn't be fazed with the showing of any emotion (i.e. crying) - for very good reasons, I must add. In the case of last Saturday's, however, it was close to a knee-jerk reaction, if you will. To explain it would look rather weird, cause I would do it this way: it's like the other person's emotions penetrate and swirl inside you, and as they swirl they hit you where it hits them at that specific moment in time - chest heaving, eyes tearing, teeth gritting. It can only be compassion, cause I could think of no other explanation. 

Aside from this, I was also reminded that everyone is capable of great good and great evil. These women, who may have done evil in different shapes or forms, are also capable of shedding tears or becoming vulnerable. They're no different from me, or you. 

--- --- ---

So, there you have it! I got into prison, and I got out. 

If the family learns about this, it will be long before I hear the end of it. ("Buti na lang hindi ka napagkamalang preso!" or "Buti na lang nakalabas ka!". Hay, family.)

February seems to be my book month so far

Yesterday, I finished The Feet of of Juan Bacnang by F. Sionil Jose. My copy is autographed by the author himself (and I couldn't help but feel giddy being inches away from the illustrious F. Sionil Jose). One of the assignments of the author class was to see how a book launch is done. There's no better way to experience that than to buy the book being launched (this book was one out of two being launched that day) and fall in line to have it signed.

It was worth the P450 (got it at P50 off, hahaha) and waiting in line to have it signed. I'm not really a fan of Philippine lit per se, and I'll probably blame it on the way I was taught Philippine literature over the years (it was in no way thought-inspiring or nationalism-building). Until now, I try reading Noli and El Fili and no matter how much I invoke my fangirl love for Rizal, I end up stopping in the middle.

Anyway, the story of Juan Bacnang could be the story of any rags-to-riches business tycoon in this country - or  most of it. The themes of this book are akin to the current social and political state of this country, and I love how it shamelessly connects its major themes to the country's age-old problems. The first part of the story was rather hard for me to relate to, simply because I am not Ilocana and I cannot relate to being clannish or with the food and customs of the time. But when the protagonist of the story went to Manila, that was when I finally picked up the pace.

In spite of the realism, it is still a work of fiction. If you've read The Picture of Dorian Gray, you'll be able to see certain parallels to that in Juan Bacnang. At one point when I was in the middle of the book, I was speculating that the protagonist will have a Dorian Gray-esque ending. Whether that happened or not is something that you'll have to find out.  

Next book in my reading stash is To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee. I wasn't supposed to buy this, but it didn't cost so much in Powerbooks, so what the heck. It's a classic anyway.

Excuse the sleepy pic. I fell asleep in the car going to work, and I've been drifting in and out of sleep since then. Le sigh.

Out with the WOW, in with the fun

Yes, this blog post will join the rest of its kind in cyberspace that talked about the new DOT's slogan for the international market.

I'll spare the pleasantries and just say this - I think this campaign will work. It's not WOW PHILIPPINES-superlative, yet this slogan could possibly be better than a superlative - because it's comparative! To those who are still not quite over the WOW PHILIPPINES campaign, I think it's time we tried something else, cause I think if this campaign here is executed well, we could topple something as epic as Malaysia Truly Asia (which is my favorite Asian tourism campaign). 

Regarding the slogan copying the 19-something Switzerland ad, all I can say here is that nothing is new under the sun (Ecclesiastes 1:8-10 - my favorite creativity-related verse). All of us were influenced by somebody. Artists have their influences, so do politicians and scientists. What's important is if we make everything that has influenced us into something we can call our own. This slogan, I believe, is something we can make our own - if it's executed right.

Since social media will be the main driver of this campaign, one challenge that I see is that the slogan will be subject to the interpretation of many people. You can only hope these people who FB/tweet about it have good intentions, otherwise if any of it goes viral, you may as well kiss this campaign goodbye. But knowing Pinoy mentality, they will rally towards a cause that will awaken their pride, or their Photoshop skills. XD

Introspection

I realize that the more I get older, the more I become exclusive or picky with people I interact with.

When I was in high school, I was pretty much a semi-open book; the same with college.I wasn't really one of the popular kids, but I was one of those who would speak their minds without so much of a thought of restraint.

Now it isn't that way. Though I still speak my mind, there is a stronger inclination to hold back. But when I do speak my mind, I speak more pointedly than before. I'd like to think I am more civil though (I've been working on it, believe you me). At present, I prefer being by my lonesome more than the company of some people. Having realized this, I think to myself (jokingly) na baka by the time I'm 30, I will be a loner na. XD

I think my time in Laguna had a lot to do with this, as well as with other stuff that happened recently. =/

--- --- ---

I haven't been taking pictures. I haven't been writing. I haven't been doing anything crea-freaking-tive lately!

Music-wise, however, I'm improving by leaps (and probably) bounds. I made my own lineup for three consecutive YC services (first time doing it, and without any help whatsoever!), and I've been learning how to play the keyboard. If I remember correctly, I'll be assigned in synth next Sunday (HOOOH EMMM GEEE). Of course, I have a long road to follow in order to be "good enough", but it's been a fun road thus far. =D Next week, I'll probably be buying my own keyboard. Yay me. 8)

I have been reading Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis and his other stories. I kind of liked his Conversations with the Supplicant. The way he writes is rather odd for me. It doesn't flow so smoothly, so much so that you need to focus more when reading. It's not like other books wherein the focus comes to you as you read - for Kafka's stories, it's the other way around. I operate on the first formula, so reading Kafka is quite a challenge.

--- --- ---

People have been posting so much about Ninong Steve Jobs (yeah, we're tight XD) that I decided not to go along with the bandwagon. I decided to post about it now because they hype has mellowed down considerably from the past two days.

When the news broke on Thursday (my time zone) that he died,  my Facebook, Twitter, and - oh my stars, would you believe it  - Tumblr timeline was 60% Steve Jobs and Apple. I love the man and the company, but one can only take so much! Sure, I did a few posts of my own (one on FB, ten or so on Twitter, six on Tumblr), but they weren't like HUHUHUHU PATAY NA SI STEVE JOBS! I AM SO SAAAAAAADDDDDDD KILL ME NAAAAOOO (When I saw the crazy posts, I knew I had to stop adding to the drama because I was certain that somewhere out there, someone like me was also getting irritated.)

It also wasn't helping that I use a Macbook at work, I listen to my iPod during work (and going to and from the office), plus there's an unopened The Innovation Secrets of Steve Jobs on the side of my table. It was a Steve Jobs/Apple bombardment of the highest proportions, and I was feeling very melancholic about it, but at the same time, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being irritated about some OA reactions that I've been reading. (At some point, I read a post on FB which said that when he saw his Mac when he came home, he bawled his eyes out. It took all the self-control I had left not to post: "I was in front of a Macbook the whole day and managed to keep it together. Get a freaking grip.")

To be honest, I do feel sad, but more than that I am thankful for the man that was Steve Jobs and the mind-blowing innovations that he birthed into the earth. He brought us closer to the 22nd century (or 23rd, whichever is your fancy). 

Maraming salamat Ninong Steve. If I get my own Mac, I'll definitely name it after you. 

What it takes to be better

It's quite interesting to think that even if information is now more accessible than ever before, that people are still misinformed/do not have the info they need, and make sweeping generalizations out of what little they know. I do this a lot of times, and for every time I've done it I realize that I do not know it all, and there's not a chance that I will know it all. I can give my opinion on certain issues or things, but I cannot generalize the entire world based on my thinking alone.

I say this because this right here happened. It was a simple reblog that didn't mean any harm; it was a statement of facts. Then, the original poster messaged me, which caught me by surprise. You could see with the way that I replied that I wasn't so pleased. I haven't gotten a message back, by the way. (I'd like to see him try.)

It's this kind of selfish thinking that's causing the problems of this country. It's always me first rather than me last. It's not the world - it's my world. People in government would rather amass ill-gotten wealth first rather than deal with third-world problems. Forgiveness is given so easily, but the lessons learned from dispensing that forgiveness are so easily forgotten. Our own comfort comes first rather than the comfort of those who aren't comforted.

The National Anthem suddenly comes to mind - ang mamatay nang dahil sa 'yo - isn't that the epitome of selflessness? We know this by heart, so why is this so hard to do?

Loving this country is a struggle for me - it's a love-hate relationship, if you will. Voting and paying for my taxes is pretty much as far as it goes. I don't like to wear nationalistic shirts, nor do I buy them (if you give me one, I'll probably not wear it too often. Baka gawin ko lang na pambahay.). As a friend aptly puts it, "nationalism is not a shirt", meaning your nationalistic shirt doesn't necessarily equate to your level of nationalism. As for me, I don't want to wear something like "100% Pinoy" or "I♥PH" and be a hypocrite about it.

But ask me about Rizal, and the fangirl in me will come out. Ask me to go to Intramuros or Rizal Park (which is quite near my house), and I will surely bring my camera. But, if you ask me to translate this passion into current affairs, I will shy away from it. I can talk about it, but my interest will not last long.

What I do not do is impose this way of thinking upon other people and say that this is how "the whole country" is thinking. That's stupid.

I know that there are people out there who love this country unconditionally, in spite of its many imperfections. There are people everyday who risk their lives to defend this country and make it their job. There are still honest people in the government who remain honest in spite of the backlash and bad reputation they're receiving. There are people who have not lost heart and continue to innovate and receive acclaim, then give the glory back to this nation. These people are better than I am.

It is with posts like those I have linked that spark whatever Pinoy pride I have in me. It provokes me to ignite the fire and keep it burning (It shouldn't go out to begin with.)  It also keeps me on my toes that I should always be thinking, always be seeking, always be keeping an open mind, and be aware that in the vastness of this universe, I am but a tiny specimen in it, but one of 6 billion strong and special who have a soul.

小さな痛みさえ愛しくて

Even a little pain is lovely.

I am alive, ergo I will blog.

--- --- ---

Hello new hair. This here happened the day after I (finally) confirmed that I did not pass the audition. I'm glad that I have short hair again. That means less time to fix, less product, less fuss, less damaged ends.

I wish that my hair had the type of curls that had meaning. Mine just curls, end of story. It doesn't fulfill any aesthetic purpose whatsoever. Getting a digital perm will be GADAWFUL for my budget. Getting a perm will mean telephone cord-like curls, which isn't what I want. Plus, the whole notion of getting a major treatment like that is something that I'm not too keen of at the moment, since my hair is still recovering from that super awful rebond of 2008.

--- --- ---

In one of my interviews of recent, I was asked if I have Chinese roots. I smiled at my interviewer and replied, "My official answer is no, I don't have Chinese ancestors. But in my head I try to make up stories where in I have Chinese ancestors who mingled with my actual mestizo and mestiza great-grandparents, just for fun."

She must have thought that I was whack. But that was better than telling her that I sometimes fantasize that I was adopted. WAHAHAHAHAHA.

--- --- ---

I am officially a Cinemalaya volunteer. *huge grin*

When I saw the ad on Tumblr that CCP was looking for volunteers, I thought I'm jobless, so what the heck? I should give it a shot. My first Cinemalaya was 2009 (I watched Astig), and I'm not a film buff in any shape or form. Nevertheless, I got a spot (a much-coveted one at that, apparently).

What are the perks, you may ask? I get to watch the films for free provided that it's not during my shift. I also get a shirt and a shiny certificate from the CCP. Oh, before I forget - I got a tour of the CCP, which costs Php200 plus. Yup. Volunteer work is fantastic.

What totally made my day yesterday was when I got to see the CCP Main Theater, aka the Tanghalang Nicanor Abelardo. It had the old theater smell to it, and was all kinds of awesome, for many great performances of the Broadway kind (among other epic productions) were staged here. Usually you'd have to pay a huge sum of money to be able to sit as a patron. Yesterday, I got to stand on the stage of this theater because I was accepted as a volunteer. Oh the joy.

As part of my break-in, I have to attend the opening of the festival, which is happening Friday at 4PM. Since I have class on that day I'll only be able to stay until 5:30 PM max, then go back to DLSU for Stat class. One of my assignments is also to familiarize myself with all the movies in the festival (together with screenings), which is pretty tough.

I haven't decided yet what movies I'll watch. I've been told that Ang Babae Sa Septic Tank is good, as well as Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa, so those are on my list. But if I may be totally honest, I'm looking for a movie that is as provocative as Astig. Yup, provocative is a good way to describe it. XD Recommendations would be nice though.

That's it for now. Until the next one, then. =D If you're bored, I recommend that you look at my progress with the handwriting meme thus far at Tumblr.

Choo choo trains

Here's a map that every commuter in the city knows. It's the LRT-MRT map. All three lines of it. Amongst ourselves (ourselves meaning me and college classmates), we inject some SaiMono into these train lines for fun; hence, Yellow (LRT 1) is the Kou Line, Blue (MRT-3) is the Ran Line, and Purple (LRT-2) is the Shi Line. We especially find the coincidence of the LRT-2 being named the "purple" line very amusing, since the LRT-2 is the shiniest and largest of all three lines in the metro. (Ang biro namin, imperial line kasi, tapos ODA pa ng Japan XD).

I don't ride the trains often. My most frequented line is the MRT, followed closely by the LRT-1, because when I go on OL gimiks - whether they are in Makati, Ortigas or Quezon City - these two trains are my preferred way of getting from Point A to Point B. What's wonderful about the LRT-1 is that one of the train stations is just a ten-minute walk from my house.

So here I am, a not-so-frequent train rider, who's about to share my thoughts on train riding in this city.

Why do people love to gather near the doors of the train?

Take my train ride from EDSA (at LRT 1) to Vito Cruz today, for example. When I came inside the train, my first instinct was to find a spot that wasn't crowded. I guess I don't have to spell out the reasons why, right? (if yes, it's a matter of minimizing violations of personal space) However, my brand of common sense apparently isn't so common, cause most people will insist on standing near the doors even if their destination isn't less than three stations away.  They would rather be bumped and shoved and outbalanced than going to a place in the train with more breathing room. They'd rather increase their discomfort in an already uncomfortable situation.

I've experienced standing near the doors of the train a number of times. Most, if not all of the instances these happened were times when I didn't have a choice. The volume of people was just too much that I couldn't wriggle my way to the inner parts of the train. What I can tell you though, without a shadow of a doubt, was that when I had an opportunity to slither my way inside, I'd do it.

In my personal commuting experience, I've noticed people who situate themselves near the doors who "mark" their territory or space in the train. Now, sometimes I do this, but if giving way means more comfort for my stay there, I'd do it. These people, however, they're the type that even if push comes to shove, whether there are ten or twenty coming in on the doors at one stop, they will not relinquish their chosen spot near the exit - at any cost! They will stand there, get angry at times if they get hurt by people coming in or out, but they will stick to their spot as if they've applied epoxy on their shoes.

I do remember a time when I started commuting by train wherein I was advised to look for unoccupied locations inside the train the moment I step in. And this I distinctly remember- do not linger at the train doors as much as possible (in fact, I think this is one of the reminders that's endlessly being played in the trains' PA system), When my stop is approaching, I should discreetly (and politely) make my way towards the exit, but the priority should be to secure a spot where I can firmly plant both feet on the floor.

This method works for me because I am so particular with my personal space. When you violate my personal space, I will black list you for life unless by some act of genius/reconciliation I decide to change my mind. XD If you'll ask me if I've ever not gotten down the train in my station before the doors closed, the answer is no. I get down on time, cause I prepare for my descent - kind of like the way an airplane does.

Which brings me back to my question - why do people love to gather near the doors of the trains?

I guess, the most obvious reason of all is that they want to be the first to get down when their stop comes (whether it's the next or the last station). Or, following this logic, they're afraid that if they stay at the far end of the train, they will not have enough time to get out.

The thing is...you can get out of the train if you've got timing + diskarte. Now, about that "being first" thing...I really don't know. Would I like to be first one out? Well, it wouldn't hurt. But for public transpo (whether train or bus), I've realized that being first out doesn't amount to anything much. I consider being "out" more important than anything.

Pomp and circumstance

Today is the day - JUNE 16. One hundred years ago, De La Salle College had its first day of classes. A century later, De La Salle University, together with sixteen other La Salle schools across the country, will finally be celebrating one hundred years of Lasallian presence, one hundred years of Lasallian education, one hundred years of Lasallian AWESOMENESS. XD

Won't make this long...I still have school stuff to do (one hundred forty eight pivottables, Statistics knows no mercy), but I will be there at the acoustic party/poetry reading tonight with friends. It's gonna be awesome.

Hail to thee our Alma Mater! Hail! Hail! Hail!

Musings of the Manila-girl-stuck-in-the-bundoks kind

I tweeted and tumbled about this already, but it's good to be consistent all throughout.

That's the birthplace of Jose Rizal. It has GREEN walls. (If you go to Tumblr you can biggify above image.)

I have lived in Metro Manila for most of my life, but I have been in the province many times to know what an old Pinoy house looks like. I've seen my share of those in Malolos - before it became a city, it had kalesas and old houses nearly everywhere - there was even one beside the bungalow of my lolo and lola's house way back then.

I know that the exterior walls of these houses are usually NOT painted green.

Prior to my visit yesterday, I have been to the birthplace of the National Hero when I was in grade school. It was too long ago that I don't remember much of the details, but I do recall that the walls were not green - they were white, off-white, or beige. Hindi luntian. (OHA! ALAM KO ANG TAGALOG NG GREEN! WAZZUP KETCHUP!)

Probably they painted it green so it could match the blue and yellow banners that have been put up on the fence around the perimeter of the house (cause blue + yellow = green). Even so, it still looks weird.


--- --- ---

If I had to give one reason for loving the five days I spend out here in the bundoks, it would be this:

I get to see the sky more often.

Of course, I still see the sky when I'm in Manila, but not without a building or two (or fifteen) obstructing your view. Here in the bundoks (and if I may borrow a quote from Rurouni Kenshin Ishinshishi e no Requiem) the bluest sky is infinitely high and crystal clear. (gosh I love that line...)

The sky here is wonderful. Many times I'd be awestruck with the cloud formations, and at one occasion I was dumbfounded when I saw the sky transitioning from cyan to blue. It's AWESOME, and it's the kind of sky that's exclusive to land that's unadulterated and pre-building-infested.

Like here.

--- --- ---

I post things like these about loving the province, but by Thursday I know I'll be missing the buildings, the humidity of the city, the pollution - do not forget the pollution! - and the traffic!

Manila, I keep coming back to Manila...