I remember I was four years old when our neighbor launched a general house cleaning, and disposed a sack-ful of hardbound books. I was outside playing when they asked me to call my mother. The elderly neighbor said we could have all the books if my mother would have a place for them at home. My mother said we might not have enough place for all of them, but offered to look into the pile and chose some. The neighbor agreed. As a result, I got my first hardbound children's books with drawings of white kids playing, praying, and studying.
At four, I still couldn't read, but that didn't stop me from enjoying the books which smelled just heavenly. I remember "reading" to myself made-up stories behind the drawings. I was already a storyteller even before I could read!
Thinking of that, I decided to read to my two nephews as early as when they were two and four, respectively. (They are now three and five. ) Since I couldn't read to them Moliere (Heck, I couldn't read Moliere even to myself!), I chose the book beside it: The Bible. How they loved the Story of Creation, and the Story of the First Christmas! They loved them so much we must have read them repeatedly for a month. Of course, I had to translate them to Filipino first. We have decided early that the children's first language would be Filipino. Therefore, no teaching of English unless they ask for some translation of the cartoons they watch on TV.
Today, we have quite a list of books and stories we've read together. Those in English, I still translate to Filipino. Here's my nephews' reading list:
1. Ang Paglalakbay ni Butirik, ang Dyip na Masungit (a 1993 Palanca Awardee for Short Story for Children)
2. Alamat ng Butanding
3. Putot
4. Ang Alamat ng Ibong Adarna
5. Jesus, the Healer
6. The Ugly Duckling
7. Rumpelstiltskin
8. The Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
9. Pinocchio (Because of Pinoccio, my 3-year-old nephew now calls banana que "Pinocchio," bananas on a long stick)
Of the stories we've read, it is Butirik that we keep on going back to. They have come to know the story page by page, picture after picture. You cannot fool the kids. They know when you try to skip pages to quickly finish reading it. Even I can tell the story with my eyes closed, flipping the right pages where the scenes go.
Reading Jesus the Healer, they now know what a "synagogue" is, or why a "ketongin" is an outcast in society, and that Jesus has turned evil spirits into pigs.
Oh, how they hated Scrooge and the Christmas ghosts! But sincerely felt sorry for Tiny Tim.
When the right time comes, we shall have a ceremonial handing of the key to the Harry Potter collection. Can't wait.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Domestic Pride
Weekends are by no means rest-ends for me. Weekends are days of the week that allow me to be human in the tradition of land before time. The time when people were left using devices of nature, doing the most humane of human activities. Well, close.
Sunday mornings I do the laundry from six to nine. I love real sunlight to dry my clothes. Doing the laundry for three hours is better than 3 hours in the gym, and a week of brisk walking. This I think.
I cook our meals on weekends, using ingredients we raise in our backyards and those of our neighbors'. Yesterday, I asked my brother to pick malunggay from our neighbor's tree, and pulled some stalks of lemongrass that my father has successfully grown by the road side, our side. For months he tried to raise it by the jack fruit tree by the creek, but failed. Now, we know lemongrass loves road dust for food. Since we live in a barrio, neighbors share what little they have. You live in a city condo, and you only share the elevators with them.
Also on weekends, I am the in-house nanny of my two nehphews (3 years and 5). I am the resident MTRCB Chief for their benefit. Disney Channel, Cartoon Networks and TV5 are their favorites. TV5? Yeah, TV5. I don't know why. (They call it TV5, not Channel 5.)
The 3-year-old nephew and I were watching Ben10: Destroy All Aliens when a scene came showing this character throwing a bottle into the sea. My nephew, in his 3-year-old high-pitched voice, squeeked: "Tita, nagtapon siya ng bote! Bawal 'yun di ba kase babaha." I rejoined: "Tama. Dapat nagtatapon lang ng basura sa basurahan."
Once, we took the jeepney when suddenly it rained hard. Midway, there was a huge flood with trash of all shapes, colors and sizes floating. My nephew then asked: "Tita, bakit may swimming pool sa daan?" Me: " Kase maraming nagtatapon ng basura na bumabara sa kanal kaya nagbabaha." That followed a kilometric series of "Bakit?" from a kid whose sponge of a mind wants more data than any supercomputer can hold.
Adults, specially the working class, should not "vege" the weekend away. It is during this time, the seventh day, the rest day when God asks us to worship Him. By worship, He meant do something for and with his creation.
Above: The kid named "Bakit?"
The nephew and the Tita horsing around. The kid clicking away his own pictures using my iPad.
Sunday mornings I do the laundry from six to nine. I love real sunlight to dry my clothes. Doing the laundry for three hours is better than 3 hours in the gym, and a week of brisk walking. This I think.
I cook our meals on weekends, using ingredients we raise in our backyards and those of our neighbors'. Yesterday, I asked my brother to pick malunggay from our neighbor's tree, and pulled some stalks of lemongrass that my father has successfully grown by the road side, our side. For months he tried to raise it by the jack fruit tree by the creek, but failed. Now, we know lemongrass loves road dust for food. Since we live in a barrio, neighbors share what little they have. You live in a city condo, and you only share the elevators with them.
Also on weekends, I am the in-house nanny of my two nehphews (3 years and 5). I am the resident MTRCB Chief for their benefit. Disney Channel, Cartoon Networks and TV5 are their favorites. TV5? Yeah, TV5. I don't know why. (They call it TV5, not Channel 5.)
The 3-year-old nephew and I were watching Ben10: Destroy All Aliens when a scene came showing this character throwing a bottle into the sea. My nephew, in his 3-year-old high-pitched voice, squeeked: "Tita, nagtapon siya ng bote! Bawal 'yun di ba kase babaha." I rejoined: "Tama. Dapat nagtatapon lang ng basura sa basurahan."
Once, we took the jeepney when suddenly it rained hard. Midway, there was a huge flood with trash of all shapes, colors and sizes floating. My nephew then asked: "Tita, bakit may swimming pool sa daan?" Me: " Kase maraming nagtatapon ng basura na bumabara sa kanal kaya nagbabaha." That followed a kilometric series of "Bakit?" from a kid whose sponge of a mind wants more data than any supercomputer can hold.
Adults, specially the working class, should not "vege" the weekend away. It is during this time, the seventh day, the rest day when God asks us to worship Him. By worship, He meant do something for and with his creation.
Above: The kid named "Bakit?"
The nephew and the Tita horsing around. The kid clicking away his own pictures using my iPad.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Laws Pull This Country Down
In today's news, the Philippine Drug Enforcement Agency (PDEA) has sued officials of Madrigal firm whose property in Ayala Alabang Village was turned into a shabu laboratory by some Chinese nationals who by the way were caught and hopefully not just to be deported back to China when convicted. Remember the Filipino drug mules who died in Chinese death rows. However, now this one sucks, Philippine Immigration Law on Deportation of Aliens Section 37.a.1 lists "Any alien who is convicted and sentenced for a violation of the law governing prohibited drugs" will be arrested and deported. Just deported. Now, we know why we are the haven of international drug syndicates.
The Senate and the Defense team of Chief Justice Corona have been constipating about technicalities of the law. The law states this. The law states that. The law says it cannot be done. The law says it is illegal. The law says it is not right. The law. The law. The law. Like we have the best ones in the world.
I've just realized that the Immigration Law sucks as much as the bank secrecy law and the rules of procedure on impeachment trials stink.
Juan Ponce Enrile rejected a prosecution witness yesterday because his testimony would be useless because the testimony would not support any of those allegations stated in the prosecution's articles of impeachment, thus wasting everyone's time. Enrile would not hear the testimony to be given by the Vice President for Sales of the Philippine Airlines (PAL) on the "platinum" perks and privileges given by PAL to Corona and his wife at the time when the Supreme Court was hearing a case filed against PAL. That would have been bribery as Enrile put it. But bribery is not part of the articles of impeachment so let's throw away that testimony to the bin and send that Veep home.
Not to mention last week's Supreme Court temporary restraining order (TRO) for the presentation of Philippine Savings Bank of CJ Corona's dollar accounts which the Senate Impeachment Court upheld. Talk about check and balance. (Insert sarcasm here.)
Now going back to the case filed by PDEA against the owner of the property used for the drug lab, why didn't they file a case against the management of Ayala Alabang Village? Their security personnel allowed the suspects to transport drugs and other related paraphernalia to and from the vicinity. Ayala Alabang is not like Pasig or Tondo that you cannot sue the mayors for having the labs in their turf. Ayala Alabang is a closed, walled, heavily guarded little city which allows entry to their landowners and tenants with a complete snappy salute sans a peek to their compartments or the company they keep, but would give all sorts of SOP bullshit to mere mortals when they try to enter this kingdom. Using for visitors only lane, the one near the guard post, the visitor will be asked to surrender his or her driver's license, give the complete name and phone number of the homeowner to be visited whom they would call for confirmation. If you have an emergency of titanic proportion, but you don't have the right answers to the guard, good luck with that.
Tough and strict and classy, but in their midst were big time drug laboratories. This little kingdom is snuggly protected by the anti-trespassing law.
A lot of our laws are pillows for the wicked and a yoke for the upright.
Laws are not like literature of Shakespearean magnitude which is both timeless and universal. Laws of man aren't like the laws of God - Thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal - which are absolute. Laws of man ought to be changed and expanded through time and circumstance.
Otherwise, let's flush all our legislators down the toilet.
The Senate and the Defense team of Chief Justice Corona have been constipating about technicalities of the law. The law states this. The law states that. The law says it cannot be done. The law says it is illegal. The law says it is not right. The law. The law. The law. Like we have the best ones in the world.
I've just realized that the Immigration Law sucks as much as the bank secrecy law and the rules of procedure on impeachment trials stink.
Juan Ponce Enrile rejected a prosecution witness yesterday because his testimony would be useless because the testimony would not support any of those allegations stated in the prosecution's articles of impeachment, thus wasting everyone's time. Enrile would not hear the testimony to be given by the Vice President for Sales of the Philippine Airlines (PAL) on the "platinum" perks and privileges given by PAL to Corona and his wife at the time when the Supreme Court was hearing a case filed against PAL. That would have been bribery as Enrile put it. But bribery is not part of the articles of impeachment so let's throw away that testimony to the bin and send that Veep home.
Not to mention last week's Supreme Court temporary restraining order (TRO) for the presentation of Philippine Savings Bank of CJ Corona's dollar accounts which the Senate Impeachment Court upheld. Talk about check and balance. (Insert sarcasm here.)
Now going back to the case filed by PDEA against the owner of the property used for the drug lab, why didn't they file a case against the management of Ayala Alabang Village? Their security personnel allowed the suspects to transport drugs and other related paraphernalia to and from the vicinity. Ayala Alabang is not like Pasig or Tondo that you cannot sue the mayors for having the labs in their turf. Ayala Alabang is a closed, walled, heavily guarded little city which allows entry to their landowners and tenants with a complete snappy salute sans a peek to their compartments or the company they keep, but would give all sorts of SOP bullshit to mere mortals when they try to enter this kingdom. Using for visitors only lane, the one near the guard post, the visitor will be asked to surrender his or her driver's license, give the complete name and phone number of the homeowner to be visited whom they would call for confirmation. If you have an emergency of titanic proportion, but you don't have the right answers to the guard, good luck with that.
Tough and strict and classy, but in their midst were big time drug laboratories. This little kingdom is snuggly protected by the anti-trespassing law.
A lot of our laws are pillows for the wicked and a yoke for the upright.
Laws are not like literature of Shakespearean magnitude which is both timeless and universal. Laws of man aren't like the laws of God - Thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal - which are absolute. Laws of man ought to be changed and expanded through time and circumstance.
Otherwise, let's flush all our legislators down the toilet.
How Girls Deal
A friend has just sent me a long ranting text that I deleted as soon as I replied to it. The text went something like, "I know you consider me a PEST when I call or text you. We used to hang out a lot but since you got that BF of yours...yada yada yada...You ought to give me credit for having survived life, etc..."
Half an hour ago, she called me at the office, wanted to chat and asked about this guy I WAS dating. I told her I didn't want to talk about it. I was also pretty straightforward in telling her I had to go because hey! I'm at work and it's only a little past 8. I need to prepare for a meeting. She was home watching Velvet TV.
Then this text. Talk about justice in the world.
The guy she was so anxious about, the boyfriend she thought I had, and I have not met for close to month already. And as we speak I have been trying to find out what went wrong and what was wrong with me: why my relationships don't end up like the ones in the movies; why my relationships end up like those written by Nobel awardees: bleak, sad, stream of consciousness reality.
Girls have different ways in dealing with broken hearts. Some assemble a conference. Others do text and e-mail blasts. Others cut their hair, go shopping, eat chocolates, ice cream and cakes, cook and go fat and ugly. Some drink. Some make booty calls to ex-boyfriends (not the most recent one, of course).
I DON'T. I get on with life. I keep the mashed heart to myself while I put on a smile and a happy mood. I look more beautiful.
I carry it so grandly this so-called friend accuses me of having the time of my life with this guy who in fact dumped me for no #$@&*^*($*!!&* APPARENT reason!
Half an hour ago, she called me at the office, wanted to chat and asked about this guy I WAS dating. I told her I didn't want to talk about it. I was also pretty straightforward in telling her I had to go because hey! I'm at work and it's only a little past 8. I need to prepare for a meeting. She was home watching Velvet TV.
Then this text. Talk about justice in the world.
The guy she was so anxious about, the boyfriend she thought I had, and I have not met for close to month already. And as we speak I have been trying to find out what went wrong and what was wrong with me: why my relationships don't end up like the ones in the movies; why my relationships end up like those written by Nobel awardees: bleak, sad, stream of consciousness reality.
Girls have different ways in dealing with broken hearts. Some assemble a conference. Others do text and e-mail blasts. Others cut their hair, go shopping, eat chocolates, ice cream and cakes, cook and go fat and ugly. Some drink. Some make booty calls to ex-boyfriends (not the most recent one, of course).
I DON'T. I get on with life. I keep the mashed heart to myself while I put on a smile and a happy mood. I look more beautiful.
I carry it so grandly this so-called friend accuses me of having the time of my life with this guy who in fact dumped me for no #$@&*^*($*!!&* APPARENT reason!
Monday, February 20, 2012
Whitney's Eulogy By Bodyguard
No, this is not the eulogy delivered by Kevin Costner for Whitney Houston. This is the eulogy given by Ray Watson, Whitney's bodyguard of eleven years.
He said: "We gotta give a little back to all our entertainers. We gotta treat them with dignity and treat them with love and start really caring for them. It means so much that we just give a little love and not just buy their tickets. We buy their tickets then we go home. They give their lives to you. They're not with their families. They're in and out, onstage, offstage, on planes, off planes, on buses traveling, doing everything so we can have some entertainment. Whether they own a court or whether they own a stage, whether it'd be on TV, they've given us entertainment to make our lives just a little brighter and our nights a little smoother. So let's give it back to them. Let's give them love other than just a ticket. This lady right here (pointed at Whitney's casket), she loved you. And I know that. I was with her every day almost."
What a lovely insight! This received a resounding applause and several standing ovations from the audience at the funeral service.
Entertainers, like doctors and teachers, are individuals who have their own place in the sun for a reason, with a special purpose. Yes, we gossip about our teachers. We talk about the boss's current woman. But nobody's personal life gets ripped apart and ridiculed than a celebrity's. We say it comes with fame and fortune. A little price to pay for owning part of the world.
As it is, talent is not enough to entertain us. We need scandals. We need to see them break down, to be at their worst; to see them get busted for drugs; to watch them handcuffed; to see them ugly like their mascara running ugly. We need to see them live life worse than we live ours. We make them our excuses for being mediocre.
Superstars in whatever field got to where they are because no one else did it better at the time they got there. They were raw and perfect with dreams and talents. Then we start screwing it all up for them.
(Video courtesy of Youtube.com and Rawwwonline.co.uk)
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