Charting the Clouds

Book Review
Cloud Atlas
David Mitchell

To say that David Mitchell is a gifted writer would probably be an understatement. I probably had said that in my review of Ghostwritten (the first book that I've read which was written by him), and I don't mind saying that again here. After reading Cloud Atlas, I must say that I was very impressed. His writing styles are now more distinct and unique from one story to another, and he explores each story and its main character deeper compared than in Ghostwritten. His talent of writing in different story-telling styles truly shines in this book. That's probably because there are less stories here compared in Ghostwritten.

Before I get ahead of myself, I should explain how the book is like in general. Cloud Atlas is just like Ghostwritten in that it's like a collection of short stories with their main characters interconnected to one another across stories in various ways. However, unlike Ghostwritten, whose characters are interconnected in small, sometimes insignificant ways, Cloud Atlas' many main characters are interconnected across stories in more personal ways. These stories are broken off half way, each to be concluded at the second half of the book. In short, it's like reading stories within stories.

It may sound gimmicky, but Mitchell managed to quite pull it off. And unlike Ghostwritten, where one story to another can almost be read independently from one another, Cloud Atlas could not be treated that way as one story's connection to the other is stronger compared to those in Ghostwritten. And what intriguing and entertaining stories they are! The main characters are told in rich details, and the stories are told in different genres from one to another.

All in all, Mitchell delivers another interesting and entertaining book. And those who appreciate talents will appreciate this book due to Mitchell's capability in writing in many different styles/genres.

"California, here I come!" (US Trip recollection, Part I)

Can you believe how much shit must I go through just to secure my US visa? Because I requested for a work visa instead of a tourist visa, matters became complicated. It was good enough that the company took care of everything, but still what was bad was the waiting time. Waiting for the interview schedule and then waiting for the passport to be returned by the US Embassy. What was especially worse was the waiting for the passport to be returned. I felt like I was in limbo. Will I go? When do I go? And to top things off I had to reschedule my flight many times over.

But finally, I got news that my passport has been returned on that Monday, April 23rd 2007. After yet another flight schedule rearrangement, it was finally decided that I was to leave Manila on April 26th 2007. 3 days were good enough time for me to prepare for logistics, but 3 days were not a good enough time for me to be mentally-prepared to leave Manila. It was not that I wouldn't be coming back, but leaving a place that I've grown accustomed to to live in another place for about 2 months brought a tinge of sadness to the whole matter.

However, going to the US was something of a lost hope to me, considering that if I go there by my own, I would be left penniless. Getting a US visa after 9/11 seemed to me like a rather uneasy affair as well. Personally, I used to dream about going to the US when I was younger. Why? It's America! Who wouldn't wanna be there? San Francisco, Hollywood, New York (not to mention all those vending machines!). But I lost sympathy and respect for the great U. S. of A. after Bush junior took the wheel. So, I wasn't really hoping much regarding traveling to the US unless I get paid for it. Which was exactly the case this time. That was why, I was so looking forward to coming here at the time that the matter of leaving Manila, a place where I have grown to like, was not a big deal. I was the lucky son of a bitch (no offense, mom).

So, on that Thursday night, April 26th 2007, my driver dropped me off at Ninoy Aquino International Airport in Manila. I was a little giddy and nervous about going to the States. You know how it is: airport security checks, whether or not they'll accept my visa and passport, whether or not they will strip me down to complete nudity for security checks, whether or not they will send me back to Manila without my clothes on and make a damn fool out of me and and so on and so forth. And I was going there alone. That was the second time I had to embark to a foreign land on my own without any companion whatsoever. I was a little bit unsure of myself, but I kept telling myself that, hey, the embassy okay-ed my visa and I got all the docs that I need. My luggage was packed neatly and I got everything I need. So, nothing to worry bout.

Security checks at Ninoy was as annoying as ever (thanks to the US). Good thing I came prepared. No belts was on me, and I made sure that the pair of shoes I was wearing was easy to slip into and slip out of. Had to take out my laptop from my backpack, but that was to be expected. Soon enough I was boarding the Philippine Airline plane heading off to San Francisco. The flight wasn't so bad, it only lasted for about 1o hours which was an hour earlier than expected. I had to sit between two old coots (oh how I hate NOT having an aisle seat), and one of 'em even had her one foot up on her seat. It ain't your house, lady, and you ain't here alone! Have some manner, please. It wasn't a big deal though, it was just me not liking uncouth behavior in public spaces. Aside from that, thank God that I didn't have to make more than 2 toilet visits during the journey. Did I mention I hate NOT having an aisle seat? I slept like a baby almost all the way through. Phew.

I woke up seeing the sun through the window of the plane. If I didn't know any better, I thought it was morning. It was 7 pm in the evening, however, and the sun was still shining bright as if it's only 3 pm in the afternoon. The first sign that I was in foreign land.

Soon after that the plane landed at San Francisco International Airport. I was finally on foreign land. My first impression of SFO was that Changi Airport in Singapore was still way better in matters of interior design-wise and the availability of shops. The affair at the immigration was far better than I expected it would be. They didn't whisk me away to an enclosed room for interrogation or did such thing. All they did was took my photograph (the immigration booth was equipped with web cams) and asked for my petition documents. The immigration officer even said "Welcome back", as if I was once lived in the US. Trouble free immigration, very much unlike what I had in mind and what I heard from other people's experience. Probably because my Visa was published in the Philippines, not Indonesia.

The air was really cold outside, and in the parking garage I almost thought that the garage was air-conditioned. Another definite sign I was in foreign land. You see, I always associate cities with hot weather. The reality that was San Francisco hit me like a wall of cold air.

The driver who picked me up was a tall Caucasian. At first I thought he was an American until he opened his mouth and started talking. His English was rather stiff, and he had an accent. I later found out from him that he was a Russian. Divorced, with two kids. Told me to be careful with women, because they were liars and only love you for your money and not who you are. Asked me how old I was and told me that I was still young and try not to rush into marriage because that's the way women trapped us. Enjoy life while you're still young, he said. Be careful of women, he warned me. I took his words to heart (with a grain of salt, no doubt).

There were other things we talked about. Asked me how much people like him (a driver) make in the Philippines a year. I told him that I didn't have an exact figure, but at least I could tell him that drivers in the Philippines in general make a lot less than he does in the US. Told me that in the US, it was all about the money and nothing more. Not a very encouraging words for someone who just set foot on a place he's been dreaming of going to, but understandable and actually made sense to me later on. All I had to do is to turn the TV on and see all those ads for consumer goods and other stuff and I understood what he was talking about. In any case, the most important thing about visiting a country for me is not about buying stuff, but seeing new places. And I would dearly love to see the US. And what better place to do that than California, right?

My first impression of California, visually, was that there were lots of highways. Lots. And they are massive in size. So much space! And the bridge where I passed through (which I would later found out called Bay Bridge) were so big and long. And the second impression of California, for me, was that it was such a big place. So many highways, so many massive structures. At least, space is one of the things these Americans can afford to spend. So...spacious, California was. Other than that, due to the sun already setting, I didn't see much else except the city lights.

Client's office was in Concord, but I was to stay at a small town 45 minutes from San Francisco (and only 10 minutes from Concord) called Pleasant Hill. Arrived at Summerfield Suite, the hotel-slash-apartment where I will be spending most of my resting time for the next (then planned) 2 months. Told my driver sorry for not being able to tip him (since I didn't have a denomination smaller than USD 100 at the time), but he said that it was okay because it was already included in the fee. Took my two luggages and a backpack inside with me. A colleague went down to see me and make sure that everything was taken care of while I was registering my name and my stay there at the hotel.

Went to my room, number 207, and realized that the place was smaller than my apartment back in Manila. No matter, as long as I have the place all to myself. It has everything that anyone would ever want in an apartment (you know, the obligatory TV, a kitchen modest in size but generous in cooking equipments, a bed, sofa, table, sink, a cupboard to store clothings, a bathroom, and, thank God, internet connection) and I was content. Tired from the 11-hour journey, it didn't take long for me to doze off comfortably on the bed. Couldn't wait to see how the client's office looks like the next day.

It was April 26th 2007, Pacific Time, and I was happy. Later days would prove to be quite trying (especially during the first few weeks), but at the moment (and in retrospect) the only thing I could think of was: one of my life's dream had come true earlier than I'd expected.

Very Interested in This Movie (Install Quicktime to View it)

Batangas: Fun!

As I sit here in my temporary cube in Concord, California (more on that later...), contemplating the fact that I am once again about to leave a place I just got accustomed to, I tried to recall the significant events that happened during the course of my life starting on early April 2007 up until this point. Trying to put them up here before I lose steam and the stories become more like entries without any passion inside them. Just see my Baguio entry, I believe I could make that one better, but before my memories fail me (and before it gets overwritten by newer, more memorable ones here in California), I decided to quickly write it up and get it over with. The result was okay (see for yourself), but still I pretty much believe that it could have been better if I got it done soon after the trip rather than two and half months later.

Anyhow, what's done is done (and the fact that I still could edit it should any old memories surfaced puts me more at ease). Now, another quite memorable event needs to be written down. Sometime in mid April, the gang decided to go to one of the beaches near Manila (near being around 2-3 hours drive). Having nothing better to do during the weekend (which is usually the case there in Manila during weekends), I signed up without thinking twice.

There was supposed to be more people coming with us, but some of them cancelled during the last minute. That didn't matter though, those who did go was a fun bunch anyways (there was Do, Put, Yang, Win, Mul, Ro and myself). The journey took us about 3 hours and we stopped a couple of times to stock up on food supplies and gas.

The first thing that we did when we got there was to find the best spot to have some sea-side fun in the sun (oh yeah, the sun was shining pretty bright that time of the year). The first place that we got to offered us a pretty steep fee for a beach side package (a bungalow, buffet meal that we don't really need since we got our own food, and to add to the insult, the place wasn't really that nice either). So, we went away a bit disgusted but still keeping our hopes up high to look for a better place with a more reasonable price.

What's this? No white sandy beach? Boo...

Which we finally did. At first, we were a bit disappointed with the place. Why, you asked? Going to a seaside resort WITHOUT a strip of white sandy beach is pretty much like NOT going to the beach at all. And this is the Philippines for crying out loud! There were only concrete tables to have (not much of) a picnic, and right next to it is just plain sea water where a bunch of families swim and just plain have some wet seaside fun. But no sandy beach. Bummer. Luckily, one of the guides there pointed out that he could arrange for a small boat to take us to a place with good view and a strip of white sandy beach for us to play with. And guess what, the price was just right! Not THAT cheap, but still reasonably cheap.

Doesn't the sight of water just calms you down...?

The boat whisked us away from that mediocre picnic place with its jet engine, and along the way, the guide told us that we could stop by where the water was clear and we could see tons of fish underwater. Mul, our happy-go-lucky friend, is one that can not resist the charm of the water being a boy who grew up near a beach. In no time, he jumped down into the water and just go a-swimmin' along with the fishes (no, I'm not talking metaphorically, you crazy Italian mafia). Infected by his cheerful manner and complete abandon when it comes to watery fun, we joined him in the water soon after. True to what the guide told us, the water was quite clear and if you equip yourself with a goggle you could see them clearly. We spent about half an hour or so in that spot, just soaking in the water, having fun under the sun (yes, that rhymes and I love it), swimming along with the fishes and just enjoy the feeling of floating in the water.

No concrete table in sight!

After we had enough of watery fun with the fishes, the boat finally took us to our destination: a white sandy beach. It was located not too far from where we had set off, but the difference was quite obvious. Nice, white sandy beach; beautiful palm trees skirting the beach; and small cliffs marking the borders between one small sandy beach haven from another. A nice little paradise (with no concrete picnic tables in sight!).

The beach, the cliff, and the sea

Soon after we cast ashore, Do and Put started putting together a sand castle, others started to play beach volley. Mul was practically everywhere. I guess he missed his home town in Bangka. The white sand was dastardly hot, so I stayed in the water most of the time, enjoying the warm sea water and taking in the beautiful view around me. Took a bit of photo snaps here and there, as always, while keeping in mind that my digital camera is not water-proof. After we all had our fun on the sand, we went to the water to just play around or float around and enjoy the day while the sun was still up.

Sailing away...

It's one of those days where you wished that it wouldn't end. But that's no fun, right? So, as the sun was beginning to set, we thought that it was time to wrap things up and go back to Manila. The small boat took us once again to where we were. We took a shower at the many shower stalls you'd find in beach resorts, get ourself dressed up properly again, and finally set off for Manila. As always, we made a couple of stops again on the way, one of them for dinner.

We got back to our apartment to find Pil waiting outside. He just came back from his flyback to Jakarta. It would've been great if he were there in Batangas. All in all, the trip was a lot of fun, especially since it had been quite awhile since I last had a blast on a white sandy beach.

Back to reality here in Concord office. Time to adorn this post with resized photos. I'm going back to Manila soon enough. Hope there will be more white sandy beaches.

Beautiful Baguio

"So, we'll be going to Tagaytay and Laguna then, since you told me that both are quite near. But we won't be going down to the crater since I don't think my mom could stand the boat ride and the horse ride," I told my driver, Lito. He nod his head, but I could see that there's something bothering his mind. Before I could ask, however, he went ahead and said "Sir, I think it would be better to take your mom and her friend to Baguio, since they're only here from Friday to Tuesday. It would be a complete waste to take them to Tagaytay and Laguna since Baguio is much better."
"But, it takes at least 6 hours to get there during daylight, right? You told me so. And the only way we could go there faster is to go during midnight and arrive there around 5 or 6 in the morning."
"I don't mind."
"Really? You don't?"
"Yeah, I know how to get there, and it's been quite awhile since I last went there."

So, with that, I settled my plans to take my mother and her friend to Baguio........

It's been awhile, hasn't it? I was there in March 2007. It was probably one of the best times in my life...it was in the period where I was so full of life and full of love. It's amazing how love could really bring colours into life. And I was like a cup brimming full of that wonderful concoction...I was in love, in love with life, and in love with the whole notion of love. That's a lot of loving there ha ha ha.

So, as I sit here in my comfortable Concord office, I tried to recall as much as possible my tour in and around Baguio. 2 months ago...feels like an eternity has passed.

Anyways, back to the story...

Mom and her friend arrived in Makati on Friday, March 23rd 2007. My driver and I picked her up at the airport at around 9 in the evening (after a very satisfying promotion dinner party). We first put their luggages in the apartment and packed some necessary stuff to bring to Baguio. The next stop was my friends' apartment, where we usually hung out. We had a one-hour chat so that Mom got a feel of what my friends were like, and then around 12:30 in the morning we headed out of Makati to go to Baguio.

We made a couple of stops along the way, and after 6 hours of driving we finally got to Baguio. One thing I noticed during that first morning light was that the hills around us were quite steep. I noticed also that there were signs of landslides. My driver told me that landslides happened quite frequently during the rainy season.

First order of the day was to find ourselves accommodation for the one night that we would be staying there. After looking around for options, we finally settled on a small hotel (which name I forgot) and rested there for about 3 hours. We woke up quite refreshed and ready for lunch.

Baguio's Pink Cathedral

We drove into town to find a restaurant and we did. Lunch was quite tasty, probably due to the fact that we just went through quite a tiring 6-hour journey. Mom saw a church along the way and was interested to pay a visit there. It was Baguio's Cathedral. I saw the photo once in a brochure I got from my driver about Baguio, and it was white. But it seemed that someone came up with an idea and painted it pink, which gave it a rather cheap image. Took a couple of pictures here and there, and the place look quite good inside since there was a wedding on that day and the decorations were beautiful. Not long after the photo session we were off on the road again.

Lit0, our driver, took us through a park called "Burnham Park", a park named after the original city's planner. It was quite packed that Saturday morning, so we decided not to get off the car and instead we went to a place called "The Mansion".

Outside 'The Mansion'

The Mansion is, well, a mansion. It is usually used by the Philippines' presidents during their official visit to Baguio. We didn't do much there except take pictures, but that day was an especially fine day with blue skies and nary a cloud in the sky. The pictures taken was exceptional and the place felt peaceful. Nothing else to mention except that mom and her friend bought some oranges. But that's not saying that it was bad. It was an exceptionally fine day. That's why we bought oranges. I think...

Mines' View Many Pasalubong Stalls

Lito suggested that we go to Mines View next. So, that was where we headed after our little sightseeing at the Mansion. There was a lot of stalls there selling many 'pasalubong' (souvenirs in tagalog) of many kinds, from trinkets, clothes, to variety of food. But the (supposedly) real treat was a natural veranda overlooking the valley nearby Baguio. I (finally) managed to get there, after having to wait for my mom and her friend buying souvenirs and gifts. The steps were quite steep, however, and considering my mom's knees condition, I told her to wait at a nearby shop while I take a look down. The veranda was jam packed with people, and I managed to take a shot or two there, but nothing much. The view was indeed good, but according to Lito, there was less houses down at the valley from 11 years ago when he was still there. I guess that means that the view must have been more beautiful in the past, uncluttered by houses and concrete.

Valley cluttered with houses

View from the top of the Grotto

Lito took us to a place called Lourdes Grotto. Lourdes Grotto is basically a shrine dedicated to Mary, mother of Jesus. It sits atop a hill. You can go there either by a winding road or climbing the 250-something steps at the side of the hill. We went by the road since my mom wouldn't be able to climb the steps. It was getting foggy at that time, and it was drizzling as well. After saying a quick prayer in front of image of Mary, we went for a quick tour around Camp John Hay. The place was, to me, a resort for rich people. Some areas inside were restricted, and we were only able to see the houses from the outside. Oh well...

Zola at Session Road

The last place we visited that Saturday was Session road. Dinner was in a cafe called 'Zola'. Pretty nice place with wi-fi internet connection (wow!) for those who has their laptops with them. After dinner we took a stroll along Session to see what they have in store. It was nice to see the road full of activities: people walking here, there and about; many restaurants serving many kinds of food; stores selling many different merchandises and 'pasalubong'. On the whole, I would say that this road is Baguio's equivalent of Singapore's Orchard Road or Yogyakarta's Malioboro road...probably more to Yogyakarta's Malioboro but less ethnic. The road was full of activities, something that I really like. We ended the day feeling very tired, but very happy and relaxed.

Actually...


Before we called it a day, we had a short visit to Burnham Park. It was only a big park with a large pond in the middle where people could go on a paddle boat to enjoy the day. But since it was around 9 in the evening, the place was rather deserted and quiet. We didn't do much there except walk around the perimeter of the pond to enjoy the night breeze and have a little chat. Nothing special there, so we didn't spend too much time and not long we were on our way back to our hotel to finally call it a day.

A good spot for a morning exercise

In the morning the day after, I went to Lourdes Grotto again with Lito. Something he said when we were there the day before intrigued me. He told me that once, he went up the stairs up to the Grotto while praying along the way for his wish to come true. He said that anyone that climbs the stairs up to the Grotto will get his or her prayers answered. At least, he got his answered (he got his promotion in his previous job). I found this to be quite intriguing, not in the religious sense but more to a stamina-testing sense. So, I went there in the morning for some exercise (and hopefully get my prayers, whatever they are, answered along the way).

The climb wasn't too bad. 255 steps were not as hard as it sounded. Sure, I was out of breath by the time I got up. But I was not THAT out of breath. The weather that morning was really good, the sky was clear and there was no fog. After saying our prayers and taking some pictures, we went back down the stairs and went back to the hotel to grab breakfast and pick up mom and her friend to go attend Sunday mass at Baguio Cathedral. The Cathedral was quite packed with people coming for Sunday mass. We took some pictures again after the mass, and again we went to Mines View. It seemed that the previous day's 'pasalubong' session was not enough for my mom and her friend.

Mines View Veranda

I took the opportunity to take more pictures there in Mines View (since the ones I got from the previous day was still lacking in matter of quantity). While waiting for mom and her friend to finish up, Lito told me about the big earthquake that happened a long time ago there. It was so big that it altered the course of a river.

We experienced a bit misfortune there, however. The key to the car we were using were broken and Lito had to go to town to get some tools to start the car without the key. He managed to do that, so after about an hour of waiting we were on our way again to have our lunch. We ran out of idea so we went yet again to Zola on Session road.

Before we left Baguio to return to Manila, we went to Philippine Military Academy. Nothing much special there, so we just took a couple of pictures and we finally left Baguio for Manila around 4 o'clock in the afternoon. We went through a slightly different route on the way back and the view was much, much better than the view we saw on our way there. Lito pointed out a bridge without water underneath it. That was where the river whose course got changed during the big earthquake used to be.

Sunset near Baguio

Baguio is a beautiful city. So, if any of you happens to be in the Philippines and have a couple of days to spare, definitely a place worth checking out. Planning to go there again when I have the chance. There are so many things that I missed out during my short stay there. Until then, I said my good bye to Baguio. Till the next time I see you again.

Homesick...

It's one of those time when I found a song for the occasion and everything about it just took the words out of my mouth.

It's Michael Buble's "Home".

"Home"

Another summer day
Has come and gone away
In Paris and Rome
But I wanna go home
Mmmmmmmm

Maybe surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
I just wanna go home
Oh, I miss you, you know

And I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you
Each one a line or two
“I’m fine baby, how are you?”
Well I would send them but I know that it’s just not enough
My words were cold and flat
And you deserve more than that

Another aeroplane
Another sunny place
I’m lucky I know
But I wanna go home
Mmmm, I’ve got to go home

Let me go home
I’m just too far from where you are
I wanna come home

And I feel just like I’m living someone else’s life
It’s like I just stepped outside
When everything was going right
And I know just why you could not
Come along with me
'Cause this was not your dream
But you always believed in me

Another winter day has come
And gone away
In even Paris and Rome
And I wanna go home
Let me go home

And I’m surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
Oh, let me go home
Oh, I miss you, you know

Let me go home
I’ve had my run
Baby, I’m done
I gotta go home
Let me go home
It will all be all right
I’ll be home tonight
I’m coming back home

Diamonds are Forever...Bloodied

Movie Review

Title:
Blood Diamond

Director:
Edward Zwick

Casts:
Leonardo DiCaprio, Djimon Hounsou, Jennifer Connelly

Writers:
Charles Leavitt


Solomon Vandy (Hounsou) is a fisherman who lived with his wife and son in one of the fishing villages in Africa (Sierra Leone, I think). He led an ordinary life (for a fisherman, at least) until one day a rebel army came to his village to pillage, plunder, and slaughter some of the villagers. The survivors, including Vandy, were turned into slaves to work in one of the diamond mines. One day he found a rare pink diamond and managed to hide it before he got caught by the government army who mistaken him as a member of the rebel's army.

A mercenary named Danny Archer (DiCaprio) overheard about the pink diamond, and stroke a deal with Vandy. Archer would help Vandy in finding his family in exchange for the pink diamond. Along the way, a journalist named Maddy Bowen (Connelly) came along to help them on their search, and escape from the hell that the country had become.

So, they all went to search for the pink diamond, but for different reasons. A mercenary trying to find a way to get out of Africa, a fisherman looking for his wife and son, and a journalist looking for the truth.

'Blood Diamond' is an entertaining enough movie. Story-wise, the movie brought forth a lot of issues like child-soldiers and conflict diamonds, among others. Acting is okay, the spotlight is on Hounsou. DiCaprio, in my opinion, is not convincing enough. Maybe it's just his voice, he doesn't sound like a gruff, weathered mercenary. Connelly's was okay enough.

One thing about this movie strikes me the most though: it can get a bit preachy at times and it wasn't even subtle about it. This is so blatantly apparent in some of the scenes. It's not a bad thing, really. It's just that I like movies whose stories are more objective and let the audience decide whatever they want to think about them. 'Blood Diamond' seemed set to tell the audience how they should think about the matters raised in the movie's story. Nonetheless, the points brought forth are worth thinking about, and I tend to agree with the opinion that this movie is bent on making. Let's just say that it made me think twice about buying diamonds.

With that said, it's an entertaining movie, with highlights on the storyline and Hounsou's performance. I'd say wait for the DVD, because visual and audio-wise, there's not enough reason to see it on the big screen.

The Long-Awaited Flyback

Getting a ticket from Manila to Singapore on the weekend during the earlier weeks of January 2007 was a pain in the ass. January 11th? Sorry, fully booked. January 18th? Too late, overbooked. All thanks to those balikbayans going back to wherever country it is they're working in after spending their Christmas holiday in the Philippines (and they all transit in Singapore). For those of you who do not know what a balikbayan is, it's basically Philippino overseas worker. Thus my flyback was postponed twice before finally getting a ticket for January 26th. The good thing was that I was not the only one going back to Jakarta on that January 26th afternoon.

When the day came, we were supposed to leave at 11:30. Even though the flight was at 14:20, some folks warned us to leave earlier. The airport had been packed with balikbayans lately, and this spelled longer line and longer waiting time. However, thanks to a certain workaholic woman, we left a bit later than that. Fuming, I actually had to leave her with a friend because she wouldn't budge. And it was a bit of an ego injury when the car they were riding in caught up with my car. Later, it would prove that it was better that way, because some almost didn't get on the plane (the gate to the plane was closed, and they actually had to force the crew to let them in). If they have left in the car I was in (whose driver was so slow in driving), they might have missed the plane. I was lucky that I already had a work permit. This allowed me to go through the express lane in the immigration section.

Despite the almost-unfortunate incident, we were finally on our way back to Jakarta. The transit in Singapore's Changi was quite short. Unlike my previous flybacks, which was usually on Thursday evenings, this time we went on a Friday afternoon. We didn't have to stay overnight in Changi, which translates to shorter transit time (we only got less than an hour before our connecting flight boarded). Due to the short stop-over, only one of us got the chance to shop, and she only got one bottle of perfume. I didn't mind, as long as I get to arrive in Jakarta sooner. And Jakarta soon loomed ahead.

One thing that I think worth mentioning about the whole trip from Manila to Jakarta is that the landing in Singapore's Changi was very smooth, despite the bad weather. I must say that it was the best landing I've ever experienced. Hats off to the pilot.

Arrived in Jakarta safe and sound. Had to drop off a couple of friends before finally arriving at home sweet home. Gave mom a big hug, and I finally got to meet Lady Fita, the newest addition to our family. She's a very cute puppy, with a playful and friendly personality. A good match for my other dog, whose personality is almost similar. Dingo, you finally have a friend to play with!

The next couple of hours was spent talking to members of my immediate family: mom, dad, and my brother. Spent time with Lady also, getting to know her better. The ice-breaking session with her was broken up in intervals, thanks to Dingo meddling around. But it was fun watching them playing with each other. Dogs, in my opinion, are probably the happiest creatures in this world. Spent a long time on the phone also, catching up with an old friend, DD. Glad to know that you have been doing well in your new environment and circumstances. Here's wishing all the best for you.

Saturday morning was a blast. I sat at my home's porch with mom, watching Dingo duke it out with Lady. They kept on playing and playing and playing, it was amazing that they had so much energy. Dogs are always fun to watch and play with. Went to TA in the afternoon with mom and brother, trying out a new sushi restaurant there and buying a couple of new stuff (cargo pants, formal pants, etc.).

My memory has failed me beyond this point. All I could remember was meeting a good friend of mine, MK, treat him out to a dinner, had a stroll in his car and FINALLY took a picture of that mysterious door near Harmoni intersection. The next day, if my memory serves me correctly, I went out with a good friend, VN, saw 'Blood Diamond' (great movie, by the way), got tons of CDs from her, and caught up with HN and PI.

Finally, Monday came, and fly back to Manila I must. Changi airport is always a welcome sight, and a great place to shop. I think I got myself a couple of books. And, as always, finally Manila came into sight. I could not really say that it has become my second home, but all I could say is that there is where I reside for now.

Ah, if you notice the narration, I spent a lot of time explaining the earlier part, during the flight. Fly-backs are always hectic. But one of the fun part is always during the anticipation, the waiting, the journey. Hopping from one airport to another is always fun. In previous periods of my life, I wouldn't even dare dream that I would be able to do so. I thought that I would always be stuck in Jakarta, Indonesia. The world felt closed to me, and the only window that I could use to see the outside world was from books and magazines.

At times, it felt surreal, travelling. But, it was real. And I was enjoying it and still am. It's great to travel. And it broaden up my mind. My advice (and heed it, since I don't usually give advices, they're dangerous double-edged swords), whenever you can, travel. The world is small, but it has so many different things to offer. And they will open up your mind. They did me. The world is my home.

A Resting Place Under the Blue Sky

The sound of a cellphone ringing and Do talking stirred my sleep early that Saturday morning on January 20th. I have only been asleep for less than 2 hours that morning, and thus I was not deep in slumber, making waking up a not-so troublesome affair for me during that time. Even though I couldn't listen to the conversation on the other line, but from Do's reply I knew it was Bob and I knew he was looking for me.

Not wanting to make him wait for me for too long, I stood up from the bed and put on my clothes. Took my digital camera with me and went down to the apartment's lobby. Yes, without taking a bath. Anyways, we were going to a cemetery for a photo hunting session. How neat must I look, right?

It was not long until we were in the car on our way to the cemetery. Got lost along the way, but we finally found what we were looking for. The first cemetery we visited was a Chinese cemetery. Something that you must know when visualizing this Chinese cemetery is that it was not just a big lot/space allocated for burials, but the place looks more like a real estate. There were roads big enough for cars to pass by. It also seems that the Philippino chinese have a sense of grandeur, for they do not bury their dead in a mere grave, but they inter them in tombs large enough to be houses. One family even buried their loved one and erected a more-or-less 10 meters monumental tower on top of the grave.

It was the perfect day, and the perfect time of day. That early Saturday morning provided us with an almost clear blue sky with only a hint of cloud, which helped set the mood to a sort of ethereal calm. Quite a fitting atmosphere for a resting place under the blue sky.

We managed to take some pictures from the Chinese cemetery. We didn't stay there for long, however, since the leader of the group, HL, were more interested in taking pictures of people. And to find more people (alive, that is), the Chinese cemetery was not the right place since it was too quiet and there were not many people lingering there except for a few morning joggers and some tomb caretakers. These pictures below are those that I managed to snap before moving on to the other cemetery.

...A Sense of Grandeur ...
(one of the tombs in the Chinese Cemetery)

...Angel of Dawn...
(A Statue of an Angel on top of one of the tombs)

...Watching Over Those Who Rests...
(the more-or-less 10 meter monumental tower-slash-tomb)

...Spirit Cloud Rising Up to Heaven...
(Damn it was a really calm and beautiful morning, with a beautiful blue sky and only a small hint of clouds...)

It was not a long drive to get to the other cemetery (which name was Manila North Cemetery, if I'm not mistaken...have to confirm this). It was practically next door. Manila North(?) was a much bigger cemetery, however it did not have the same sense of grandeur and not as aesthetically pleasing as the Chinese cemetery. While Chinese cemetery had more tombs, Manila North had mostly graves instead of tombs. And the tombs in Manila North were not as big and grand as the ones we found in the Chinese cemetery. However, it was here that I found out why HL preferred to go there instead of the Chinese cemetery.

There were more people there. They're not mourners, they didn't go there to pay a visit to the dead. They were there because they live there. They were the homeless. During my visit there, this was one of the prominent musings that came up in my mind (well, aside from trying to snap some pretty moments): in short, it was just one of the maladies of developing countries. A large gap between the rich and the poor. The rich were rich enough to afford grand tombs, some were even as big as a small house, and the poor were so dirt poor that they opt to live inside these tombs. Even the poor in my home country avoided living in cemeteries due to some intangible reasons.

I am quite sensitive, spiritually, but the strange thing was that I did not feel as much malice and restlessness as I usually do whenever I visited cemeteries back home in Indonesia. Come to think of it, maybe it was because I was among many of the livings in Manila North. The place really felt like a , a poor one albeit, but still it had the feel. Nonetheless, this brought me to my point that the whole complex was pretty much habitable. Indeed, I even found one tomb occupied by a family of homeless and they even put up a TV. It even had an excellent signal reception. Incredible. Later on I would also found out that many had been living there ever since the day they were born.

It was also amusing and strangely heart-warming, looking at HL taking pictures of the faces of the people who inhabit Manila North. He would ask their names, how they were doing, ask about their families, their lives. In a personal level, it's a good thing, and from a photography point of view (and in my own humble opinion) it's a good method in bringing out the best expressions out of people. It makes them feel at ease with you. And when that golden moment come, all you have to do is to just snap away.

The whole experience was peaceful and grand, and what I remembered most was the blue sky and the resting place under it.

These are some of the pictures I took in Manila North.

...Not Leaving...
(some of the inhabitants of Manila North Cemetery)

...In Death Bloomed...
(there are so many of these flowers in graveyards and cemeteries...)

...A Peaceful Dawn...
(It was a very peaceful morning...)

Weekend Sleep-Over

It had been quite a tiring week indeed, last week. I went home at around 9 o'clock (at least) during most of the days of that week, thanks to a lot of issues to solve and a lot of tasks to be done. And, well, I wasn't the only one though. I think it was quite a tiring week for most of my team members in the big, loving family of DC. I was fast becoming a workaholic that even CK's given up on teasing me and calling me 'workaholic' just to coax me to going home early. Now she just walked pass my cube not saying a word knowing there was no use. Sorta miss the teasing, though.

Thank God that things had been getting very interesting thanks to the coming of more people from Jakarta office. The addition of Do, Pil, Awing, Bob, Haram, and Mul has been a very refreshing turn of event. At least then I wouldn't have to worry about having to hang out with a girl all-star squad most of the time. I was afraid that I would have to start wearing skirts if I continue being a guest star of that squad. Moreover, I wouldn't have to worry about talking in English most of the time. It's not that I couldn't speak proper English, mind you, it's just that when I talk or make jokes in English, most of the people here are not so fast in 'getting it'. But talking in Indonesia and making Indonesian-flavored jokes are so...welcomed. People here are such sissies when it comes to jokes. Even the guys. God.

Ahhh, thank you God. You always know what I need.

Thus, I welcomed with arms wide open Do's and Pil's idea of having a sleepover on Friday night. We left the office early that day, with me going back to my own apartment first to catch a quick nap to calm my tempter down a bit. Nearly bitten a girl's head off during the day, thanks to an incident involving an ice cream party and two other girls giggling behind my back. Yes, folks, lack of sleep make Hulk unhappy. Hulk unhappy not good for you. You see green. You don't want to make Hulk angry. You won't like Hulk when Hulk angry. And don't give Hulk puppy eyes. Hulk got enough of puppy eyes. Hulk crush puppy eyes.

Anyways,

Yeah, after that quick evening nap, I finally get my ass off my bed and walked off to Do's place. Took only 10 minutes to get there. And when I got there, almost everyone was there. There was even a member of the opposite sex, Put, one of the new additions from Jakarta office. Our (most of the time) permanent guest star.

Alright, when I said 'we', the people I'm talking about are: Dod, the de facto leader of the pack...sort of...the calm, serene, thoughtful guy who emanates wisdom,...

...not. Don't be fooled by his calm face, people, the guy has a lot of mischief in his head. He's just good at hiding it. And don't get him started talking bout Pil. I used to think that the guy is quiet, talk only at times. Well, he still does, but turns out that he could be quite a funny guy, and got a lot of funny ideas inside his head. Especially when it comes to Pil and some of his 'obsessions'.

Talkin' bout funny brings us to Pil. Pil's practically everyone's 'punching bag' when it comes to jokes. In other words, he's the butt of jokes. Gay jokes, lesbian jokes, sex jokes, jokes relating to the girls he has a thing for, you name it. You don't often get to see Dod making fun of someone and actually enjoying every second of it. And, in Dod's own words, putting Bob, Pil and Yayang in the same room provides a level of entertainment this project badly needs. But, really, we all agree that Pil has quite a good music taste and well, as for me personally, I find that most of his advices really worth the trouble listening to. We agree on most things.

Awing is the 'ninja' of the group. At one time he would be sitting together with us, talking, laughing, and getting laughed at for being the target of a certain lonely lady's (or two ladies') affections (the dumb-founded expression on his face is priceless). But later on, after we finished talking, we would suddenly realized that he's gone MIA. He's even better than a ninja. Ninjas usually use smoke. He doesn't. But he would later on return with his special technique called 'storm-bringer'. It's just a cool lingo for him bringing in 'breaking news'. Examples: "Shit, guys, I just lost a hundred bucks in my room! Somebody must have took it!" or "Shit, guys, I just lost a thousand pesos in my room! Somebody must have took it!" (notice the pattern here?). But of course these are just a few examples of the news he would bring in with him. It's just that his luck hasn't been so good lately. But that doesn't affect his ninja-disappearing act or his 'storm-bringer' jujitsu technique. Woosh!

Man, all of this bad mojo...ya gotta need a balance, right? That's where Mul comes in. Mul is the smartest among us, academically. He's also the nicest among us. Mul has a sincere and positive disposition towards everything and everyone. He gets along fine with anything that comes his way. Naive and nice (sometimes to the point of irritation), don't we all started that way? Or is it just me? That's why we're quite protective when it comes to him. We would call him up whenever he's still not back at the apartment at 2 a.m. in the morning, thanks to the workload he has in his hands right now. It is also worth mentioning that when it comes to Pil and Mul, it's like watching a comedy show with duo comedians. Mul would be the straight guy and Pil would deliver the punch lines. Oh yeah, learned a trick or two on how to iron my own tees from him. Thanks a lot for that, Mul!

Bob and Haram are guest stars to our own little group. Planning to convert Bob to full-time member, but not too sure about Haram because he seems to have his own little world most of the time. However, that's what makes him so funny. We encountered priceless Haram moments during most of our hang-out times, too bad that we didn't have our cameras with us at those times. The guy can be so gullible. But he's a good and funny guy. An entertainer in his own ways.

Put is the princess among the princes, a sugar cube in a really bitter coffee, the sweet among the sour, and so on and so forth. As is the case with Mul and Pil, in the usual comedy set up, she would play the straight guy (girl, in this case) and us guys would be the delivering the punch lines (with most being targeted at Pil). Though at times she would left early (1 o'clock in the morning is considered early for us), it's nice to have her around whenever we guys hang out.

So, that's the cast roll. And now to the main event: the Friday night sleep-over! (I'm so making it sound like a pajama party, but what the heck...). We didn't actually do anything much, really, all we did was went to the 711 across the road, get ourselves some bottles of Coke, a few packs of cigarettes, and talk until around 4 o'clock in the morning. Around 1 o'clock a new guest star came (we had to pick her up, though). Well, let's just say that now we have 2 princesses among the princes, 2 sugar cubes in a really bitter coffee, 2 sweets among the sour, and so on and so forth. It was fun.

Thus, the main event was 'talk'. We practically had what we call 'guys talk'. It's our way of saying that we gossiped, but gossiped is such a sissy word that I had to change it to 'guys talk'. But really, it's almost the same thing, but 'guys talk' is sometime laced with more dirty words and obsceneties. The one we had that Friday night was tame though, but still it was 'guys talk', and we practically 'guys-talked' almost everyone involved in our current project (we try not to be too vulgar because of the 2 princesses, sugar cubes, sweets, so on so forth). We talked about the men, the women, and those that are in between (wink wink hint hint). We finally retired to our beds at around 4 o'clock.

I only had 2 hours worth of sleep before I had to wake up. Bob, I, and several people are going for an early morning photo hunting session in Manila North Cemetery. I don't exactly count myself among these professional photographer-wannabes, but I would like to see what it's like there in the cemetery. My only equipment was a point-and-shoot Canon Ixus 65. It was good enough for me, for now at least.

I'm going to elaborate more in a different entry regarding the photo hunting session. It was quite an interesting session, in many ways than one.

I spent the latter part of that Saturday running around trying to find something that my mom wanted me to find for her friend, and returned empty-handed thanks to lack of information. The disappointment was remedied by a visit to the bookstore in Greenhill. Didn't really buy any books, but it helped lift my mood a bit. Dinner was a so-so affair, I went with the guys again to an area we dubbed 'the bandit's nest' ('sarang penyamun') due to reasons that are quite obvious: it's the red light district. Mind you, we didn't do anything...'bad', we just went to the KFC there. And we had one of the princess with us. The sugar cube in a cup of bitter coffee, bla bla bla yada yada yada.

There's another 'guys talk' session in the night, but it was not as good as the night before as we've ran out of topics for conversation. Everyone was also tired, especially me due to my lack of sleep during the previous day.

There was nothing special on Sunday. It was only Church, and spending the rest of the afternoon at Do's place finishing a game (which reviews will be coming out in the near future). There was to be a birthday party in the evening, and everyone must contribute food. We weren't really feeling up to it, but finally when the time came we managed to haul our lazy asses off the bed (or couches, or floor, or whatever) and went to the apartment where the birthday party was supposed to be.

Free food always contribute to more fun. Well, it wasn't exactly free since we had to contribute some ice and water, but still, food and party are always considered fun factors. And so, the event was, for lack of a better word, eventful. We laughed, we ate, we talked, we listened, we played and finally we left.

Shows you how much Sunday was a drag...

An honorable mention though: Pil getting caught by CS as we were about to leave the party as he was afraid CS was going to make him drunk again. Didn't happen, but it gave him quite a scare.

Overall, it has been quite a fun weekend, even though the highlight was only on Saturday night's gossip session. And I badly needed it thanks to my fly-back having been canceled for so many times. It was fun, guys, and I believe there will be many more of those sessions coming in the future. Even though we were only talking non-sense, but hanging out together sure is fun.

Goodbye, Dear Godmother...(A Tribute)

She was our house maid. She was a 'babu', as she would often called herself. She had been there even before I arrived in this world. She had been working with our family even before my mother got married. She served my family with sweat, tears and at times, blood. There was a period of time, however, when she went to the service of one of my mother's aunt. It did not last long. She went back to us, citing awful treatment. She then stayed on with us, loyal until the day she died. She was, in the end, a true member of our family.

This woman wasn't blood-related to me, yes, but I might as well had called her my second mother. She would be my replacement mother whenever my real mother was not around. She would soothe and calm me or my mother whenever we were having one of our arguments, in the end reconciling our differences. She would oft times listen to my troubles, even though I suspect that she might not fully understand the true meanings of my words. But at the very least, she was there. And she was sincere.

She would be the second person who knew everything about me: how I was born; my childish habits; my first, and a subsequent, head wound that net me two stitches on the scalp of my head; my true personality at home; and (almost) all the secrets to my family life. And knowing this, she guided me with advices. She was the second person whose advices I truly listened to (or force myself to listen to), no matter how cliche they were. I must say that it was quite a feat for her, knowing how hard-headed I could be most of the time.

She would also be one of the few persons who understands my mother the most: her personal life; her taking care of me and my brother; her true personality; her temper; her life's many hardships; and her life's many secrets, many of which I still don't know and might never will. She happened to be the one of the few persons whose advice my mother listened to. Again, quite a feat for someone whose daily work was only being a house maid.

It would seem as if I were everything to her. But I know where her true loyalty lies. And often times I suspected that her caring for me was only a mere extension to that loyalty. However, no matter where that loyalty lies, I have benefited greatly, mentally and physically, from that loyalty and I know that I should be grateful for that.

I had better.

I must confess, that I don't treat her the way I should at times. It was that master-servant mentality that took over most of my dealings with her. But after the fit subsided, I would look and realize that this woman had been with us since...forever. She had taken good care of me and my family. And whenever I felt that I had done her wrong, I would come to her personally, look her in the eyes, and apologize from my heart. My apologies, the true and honest one, the ones that come from throwing my pride away, come rarely. But the ones I gave her were always of that kind.

Swallowing one's pride is never an easy thing.

Like any person one meets in life, she wasn't perfect. She had her failings. It seemed that the women in my immediate family were riddled with quite short fuses. She often had her fits of anger and I could see it in her eye (she lost one of her eyes to a sickness) when the 'madness' took her. She would not do her chores, and she would often spit out loud, sharp words that would truly hurt even my father, who often didn't give a damn about what people say. The only member of our family who could stand her bickering and her sharp words is our dog. It may sound funny, indeed, but I highly suspect that that dog is the only soul who knows her true self and love her for who she really was. And in any case, she was the one who fed him.

Only later would I suspect what made her came about that behavior of hers. I am still unsure, but my suspicion of the cause of her behavior would cast a good light on her. I prefer it that way.

Have you ever have that feeling, that certainty, that the people close to you, your family and friends, would live forever? Well, prepare to be really disappointed: they won't. Life goes on, and life will teach you that the people you are close won't be around forever. Life would took them away, sometimes so abrupt that you won't have time to say good bye to them. To apologize. To say how much you appreciate them. To say how much you hated their guts at times. To say how much you love them.

That was not the case with her. Her passing from this world had been too slow and painful. We found out about her cancer when it was too late. We suspect that her sickness had been eating her body away for quite awhile (thus the cause of my suspicion on her behavior). My mother did not want her to go through all that chemotherapy mumbo jumbo, knowing that it would not help and would only prolong her suffering. And thus, the Sickness took her from us little by little, as her life faded away into the Unknown.

Her soul, the person we knew, was lost to us long before her body failed her. I considered her lost the day she looked for me twice while I was sitting right in front of her. Mother and I grieved for her long before she passed away.

The day her body shut down was uneventful. My mother told me about it over the phone. Her immediate family back in her hometown was the one who took care of her. She did not have any husband or children of her own. I was her child. Her god-child. And my mother her sister.

I would have thought that life without her would be different, hard-like. Yet it seemed strange, that the passing of someone you were so used to having around in your life felt so natural. Or...is it just I who don't give much of a damn? Whatever it is, life goes on. And so do I. The dead pass away, but their immortality lies in our memories of them. Thus her spirit will always be with me, and with the people whose lives I touch. This I believe.

So, farewell dear Godmother...
O, Guardian of our family's life and secrets,
May God find you true peace and happiness...

This is a final tribute from me to you.


The sun was shining bright outside the school. The sky was blue with only a little hint of cloud. The sound of children's laughter was ringing in the air, a sign that school was over. It was a good day, a beautiful day, a day none like the other day. But, what have we here? Oh, dear me! There was a little boy in the corner, crying, while his friends were laughing and jumping and playing about the schoolyard. School is over, school is over, so happy are we, can't wait to flee, the children would sing and laugh. But not the little boy, however. Away from the others, he was holding onto the schoolyard fence and sobbing, such a sad little boy. I want to go home, said the little boy, where is she? Where could she be, cried the little boy.

One by one the other children went home, and so the schoolyard grew quiet but for the sobbing of the poor little boy. Oh, poor me, poor me, no one came to pick me, sobbed the little boy. Even the sweet words of the teacher telling him that, your parents will be here soon, dear, now will you be a good boy and come sit with me, could not ease his worries. And when it seemed that all hope was lost for the little boy, when he felt the world was not a safe place for him to be, the school's front door opened and came barging in a lady with quite a heavy built.

Oh, dear child, stop crying! So sorry am I to have come at so late a time! Come, come, stop your crying! I will take you home with no delay, and I will make you the most delicious food you have ever tasted. Come now, you will meet your mother soon enough, dear child. Now smile for me, will you not?

And the (now) happy little boy smiled. He knew that he was safe. He knew he was coming home. It was a bright day, with blue skies, and it was filled with a boy's laughter.

In loving memories of Yati (19?? - 2006)
(She never knew her date of birth)

Need to Get the Poison Out...

Yes, it's another 'song for the occasion' (a. k. a. filler post), though the occasion has passed for quite some time. But I just heard this song and it struck me hard.

I only wanted you to feel
How I thought you deserved to feel
The way you always said you wanted to
You wanted all we have to be real
And every word we say to be true
Still after all I gave, it's not enough for you

Well I can't give anymore
So now I'm giving up
'Cause nothing's ever good enough
The more I try to pour
The less I fill your cup
'Cause nothing's ever good enough

I only wanted you to see
That you can be who you wanted to be
And fill the lonely void inside of you
I gave you evertyhing that you need
Did what you always wanted to do
Still after all I've doneI can't get through

Well I can't give anymore
So now I'm giving up
'Cause nothing's ever good enough
The more I try to pour
The less I fill your cup
'Cause nothing's ever good enough

Good enough

I've wasted my time
Go find someone else

Well I can't give anymore
So now I'm giving up
'Cause nothing's ever good enough
The more I try to pour
The less I fill your cup
'Cause nothing's ever good enough

Enough

Enough

Good Enough
By Hoobastank

A Colorful and Loud New Year's Eve

I never thought that my New Year's Eve here in Manila can turn out to be quite interesting. It started out a bit boring, really. I'd been spending my time at a friend's apartment, enjoying the hospitality of his PlayStation2 while he was away. The game 'Okami' had me hooked for awhile now (as always, a review after I have finished the game), and that was what I'd been playing for several days. When I wasn't playing, another friend of mine would use the PS2 to play Final Fantasy XII.

We were playing the whole afternoon on that December 31st 2006, then took quite a long nap. Around 7 in the evening, we woke up and decided to walk around Makati to see what festivities they have. We have been eyeing all the firework canons lined up in front of my apartment, and we had a strong hunch that they will fire it up at midnight...like duh, it's New Year's eve.

There were many people and lots of food stall at the intersection where they have Ninoy Aquino's statue. There was also a huge stage there. The singers were not so good, and the food, well the food was okay. But since most of them are made of pork and my friend is a Muslim, we decided to go somewhere else to have our dinner. After quite a long walk (and almost getting hit by an unfriendly taxi at an intersection), we ended up at a Pizza Hut near (well, not so near actually) my friend's apartment.

We went back to the intersection only to find more people yet only a so-so entertainment. About 45 minutes before midnight we decided to go to Makati Av., the road in front of my apartment. We waited anxiously for the fireworks, and after waiting for awhile, the first firework exploded in hues of white and red.

It was probably the best display of firework I've ever seen, right in front of my eyes. I was practically only 15-20 meters away from the stack of fireworks, sitting on the asphalt road, feeling like watching a movie while sitting in the front-most row seat. It felt great! Really great! Colors and deafening sounds exploding only 30 meters above me, showering down like rain of light on a cloudless, moon-lit night. The explotions lasted at least for 25 minutes, with the finale a barrage of red, white, green and blue lasting for more than a minute.

Everyone was clapping when the last firework explosion died down, and I was still sitting on the asphalt road of Makati Avenue, speechless. It was beautiful, and the best part was that I wasn't expecting anything so awe-inspiring happening right in front of my apartment. And unexpected New Year's gift. I know no matter how many words I put down in this entry, nothing could replace that moment in time. Front row (asphalt) seat, colors and sound exploding only 20-25 meters above my head, my digital camera (which can only store 1 minute and 45 seconds worth of video), my natural camera (my eyes), and my internal memory (my brain). Got videos, thinking of uploading it to YouTube. We'll see. Will update this post when I do. Anyways, Happy New Year 2007 everyone! Wishing us all the best in the coming year!

The Year in Review: 2006

I would like to say that this year is mostly about work, professionally, and the end of another stage in my life, personally. Many new things have I learned, many more mistakes have I made, but if you ask me should someone (or something, or God) gave me a time machine to go back to the start of the year (or any time in the past for that matter), would I change a thing? Would I have made different decisions?

Not likely.

I am now at this point in time because of all the things that I did, at least from my part. Other people have also affected my life in many ways this year and they will still do later on. But from my part, I won't dare change a thing.

The next paragraphs will describe the good lessons learned throughout the year 2006 for me, I hope you will be entertained and benefit from some (if not all) of them.

It was a very good year, at its best. And it was a very bad year, at its worse. This year has been everything all in one. Lessons learned are mostly at the personal level. The professional side of me is only a mirror of what I am personally. I must say that I am beginning to acknowledge and understand my own self, and instead of denying who I really am, I am now still in the learning process of accepting who I am. This is thanks to a certain major event that took place in this year, probably one of the turning points in my life. What's the conclusion of it? It is still unknown.

The later part of this year was spent on trying to adapt to a new environment, a new situation and its many circumstances. New experiences are always good, no matter what. It is true that when compared to many other places, people (and myself also) tend to conclude that the standards of my new 'habitat' is of a lower quality than many other places (please note that I am talking in a general sense, I am pretty sure there are qualities belonging to my current location that can be said as better compared to other places, such as cheaper prices of books), but I live only once (assuming that there's no such thing as reincarnation) and any new experiences I could get my hands on I'd gladly take (provided that they are not life-threatening).

A good lesson learned about anger: don't hold your anger inside for too long for it will corrupt you later on. Find a way to channel it, and make damn sure the people to whom the anger should be directed knows about it, preferably later on after you cool down a bit. This is good for your soul, and people will respect and treat you better. Control, direction and moderation. Something that I am still learning, but experiencing it hands-on rather than reading or hearing about it can really open your eyes up. A person could not understand the true meaning of hot until he put his hands inside a pot of boiling water.

Love is such a tricky thing. (Warning: ladies, you might want to skip the next few sentences, they're harsh and for gentlemen only...oh well, I know you want to keep reading anyways...). Sometimes, it is hard to differentiate which one is in direct control of a man: his brain, his heart, or his dick. Sometimes, dick is very cunning. It befriends the brain, and fools the heart. How to cut dick off from all its fooling around? You can't. If you do, you have to relocate to Bangkok (ah, another stereotyping). Just accept it, and be careful if dick is trying to fool your heart. When dick befriends the brain, it can be good. It can be really good. But don't let it fool the heart. It gets ugly when it does

Don't be anal with your money. It is only a means, not the end. And to reach an end, there might be other way besides money. But if you do have it, and you want to use it for something, anything at all, then do so. Don't let it control you, though, and don't let other people tell you what to do with it. Your money is yours. Just like your life. Just remember that there are consequences for every action that you do, and you have to realize it and be ready to accept it. Bear in mind also that money has power only because it is people who have given it power. Realize this, and you can use it to your advantage, should you choose to do so.

Meeting new people is always fun. You get to see how colorful people can be. Whenever there is a chance to meet new people, do so. They provide you with entertainment beyond your imagination. See their facial expressions, hear the funny noises they make, see the twinkle in their eyes, watch them walk, watch how their mouth moves whenever they're talking or eating, notice their new haircuts, and many more entertaining tid bits. There are billions of people inhabiting this planet of ours. You won't get bored.

Stay in touch with friends. They will remind you of who you were, who you are, and who you can be. True, that there are many people in this world, but only a microscopic portion of them can, or will be, your friends. And (this is classic, folks), when you do find them, make sure you keep them. I think this lesson is worth repeating every year...heck, everyday.

Well, that's it for now folks! The 2006 show's over, everyone went home, and there shall be no encore for 2006. Let's play 2007's game, and we'll see what'll happen.

Teacher Dude

A Book Review

Title:
Teacher Man

Author:
Frank McCourt

I knew Frank McCourt's 'Angela's Ashes', his Pulitzer Prize-Winning autobiography book, from my uncle (who happens to be of the same age as I am) whose girlfriend lend him the book. Read a couple of pages while we were having an island-holiday retreat and I was hooked, then decided to get my own copy. I don't know what the criteria for Pulitzer is, but based on my experience in reading Angela's Ashes, I think the guy really deserves the prize.

Now, a couple of years later and 2 more books (his second book is titled ''Tis'), I must say that the writing style that charmed me is still going on strong. What is so interesting about McCourt's writing style is its fluidity. The guy can go straight from an indirect sentences to direct sentences with grace and ease. Not only that, every page, every sentences in this book is brimming with his playful personality, which makes the book fun and easy to read. A real page turner, this is.

If 'Angela's Ashes' is about McCourt's harsh childhood when he was living in Limerick, Ireland, and ''Tis' is about the story of his adapting to living in America, 'Teacher Man' is about his easing into his job as a teacher in various learning institutes in New York. Not as serious as 'Angela's Ashes' and ''Tis', McCourt describes his many experiences as the 'teacher man', his views about teaching in general (in the U.S. of A., at least), and stories about many of his more interesting students. This book is not only about teaching though, because this is, afterall, Frank McCourt's autobiography book. This is like 'McCourt on Teaching in General', with a bit of his Irish childhood background and his outside-0f-school life experience (but also related to his teaching experience) thrown here and there.

It is hard not to draw comparison between his previous two books, but I must say that 'Angela's Ashes' is the best of them all, with 'Teacher Man' coming at a not-so-distant second. ''Tis' is also a good read, it serves as a bridge between 'Angela's Ashes' and 'Teacher Man'. However, for these two books, ''Tis' and 'Teacher Man', I felt that McCourt is not as determined as he was when he was writing 'Angela's Ashes'. Either that or it's just that his life experiences that were told during 'Angela's Ashes' were just more varied and colorful compared to ''Tis' and 'Teacher Man'. Mind you, 'Teacher Man' is still a good book, and a good display of a unique writing style.

If you have read 'Angela's Ashes' and ''Tis', and are interested in the story of McCourt's life and you also like his writing style, you definitely have to get this book. If you haven't read 'Angela's Ashes', you might have a hard time trying to understand his background when you're reading 'Teacher Man'. So, for those who are interested in 'Teacher Man', but haven't got around to reading 'Angela's Ashes', I suggest that you do so. You will find a richer experience in Angela's Ashes, and it will give you the background you need in reading 'Teacher Man'. Finally, if you're a teacher or aspiring to be one, I must say that this book is a must-read to give you a general idea of what it's like being a teacher. Yes, I'm saying that this is about being a teacher anywhere, not only in the U.S. of A.