My Turf

Sometimes I feel there’s a hole inside me–an emptiness that at times seems to burn.

I have this dream of being whole, not going to bed each night wanting. But still sometimes when the wind is warm and the crickets sing, I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for.

I just want someone to love me. I want to be seen.

Gawd. I swear I could have written these lines. My sentiments exactly.

When I was still working in a call center, speech boo-boos were one of my favorite parts of training. There are some classics that I recall with fondness. For instance,I had a classmate who approached me to ask what he can do for a particular caller. With much concern, he earnestly said, “It’s my customer. He is a victim of Typhoon Hurricane…” Yeah, he meant one of the biggest calamities that hit Southern US in 2005: Hurricane Katrina.

But here’s my all-time favorite:

One of our activities in the Culture and Communication Training was to give instructions in English on how to play a Filipino game. Called up front to explain the game he picked, a batchmate started, “I’ll be giving instructions on how to play…uhm…Hit the Blind.”

Of course he was talking about the Pinoy game, Pitik-Bulag.

After I laughed, I wondered to myself, "Tekaaa…ano nga ba ang English ng ‘Pitik?’ "

Pitik as in hitting someone with your fingers. So that’s not ’snap.’ 

Eh ano nga ba?!

Well, in an effort to avoid any embarrassment of that sort, the game I picked was Shaggidy-Shaggidy-Shapopo (ganito ba ang pag-spell sa larong iyon?!)

I love you, Chocolate-flavored Jolly Shake and Cheese n’ Beef fries!

Slurp!

This entry was written on August 29, 2005–during my very brief employment at a call center
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Today marks my third week of working in a call center.

Prior to this job, I had always scoffed at call centers and brilliant people who chose to be part of the ‘Sunshine Industry.’ I kept saying then, “Why the hell would anyone want to work as a telephone operator?!”

But there are times when one runs into a wall, plans go haywire, choices are diminished, and it is realized with sad resignation that some things are worth more than pride.

My last employment was at FMA, an NGO, and it ended March this year. After that, I worked freelance. I had several projects that helped me get by for several months even without a regular job. Freelance work could be lucrative, but it is not at all secure. I was fine until the middle of June, but after that, projects came in trickles. What made matters worse were the payments not being given on the dates promised. The delays totally messed up my budget. Things wouldn’t have been as tough if all the fees I expected to receive came on time. And of course, my responsibilities to my parents, the bills and the rent, plus the money I needed for daily living swiftly ate up whatever money I initially thought I could save. Simply put, come end of June, I was spending so much and earning nothing.

In retrospect, I did receive quite big sums from my rackets. But without regular income to support all the other things I needed to spend and pay for, they proved to be far from enough. Second week of July, I scurried to send out resumes (NGOs, magazines, TV networks), establish new contacts, reconnect with old ones… I texted friends who might recommend me to possible employers, and I sent emails to people who expressed interest in AVP production in the past (two of which are people I met at the Social Artistry Workshop in Tagaytay last July). I WILL NOT WORK IN A CALL CENTER. NO WAY.

But then, all things seem to be saying, “Oh, yes way!” because in response to my desperate, last-ditch effort to resist the lure of call centers, I either received a polite “Okay, I will ask my friend and get back to you,” or "I’m sorry, there’s no opening now."

Final week of July, it hit me: nice try, kid, but really! There is nowhere else to go.

I tried to veer away. I really did. That much I can say about myself. But God apparently has other plans. When I stepped into the Convergys office at 6PM (correct, that is PM, as in nighttime) of July 29, I knew then that there was no turning back.

The application went by in a whirl. I was interviewed Friday, took the simulation exam on Monday (should have taken it Saturday, but I was about 5 minutes late and had to be given a new schedule), had my final interview Tuesday morning, and in the afternoon of the same day, I was already signing a contract and was to immediately begin the day after.

“Stop watching other people’s stories. Go create your own.”

There are days when I think about what I have become and where plenty of my college and high school batchmates are now. And of course, I could not help but pity myself and feel more than a little embarrassed. Nonetheless, when I start to get into such cumbersome mode, I remind myself that people’s circumstances are different. Others may have better jobs or are in better positions, but than does not mean I am worth less than them.

Quite a big chunk of a person’s achievements is comprised of perfect timing and great breaks—a slot when he/she applied, so-so fellow applicants, moneyed parents/ relatives, access to the right strings to pull … I do not mean to rule out the essence of talent, hard work, inspiration, and passion, but realistically speaking, how can one apply these without the chance to do so?

It is all just a matter of perspective. I can choose to see my being in this job as settling, lurch in self-pity, blame my parents, God, and all those people who did not hire me. But on the other hand, this job at Convergys promises secure work tenure and financial stability. Money may not be everything but it, literally and figuratively, buys a lot for a person: higher learning, pursuit of interests, audacity to dream bigger and achieve more, help better loved ones’ situations, among others.

My saying this is not merely to justify my decision. I do not feel defeated at all. If anything, this is a new lease at life, another chance to do things better. What I want to do, what I want to become is very clear in my head, and to me that is the only essential thing. I have a dream, an ultimate goal, and it beats and pounds and throbs so strongly in me that I do not think the day of forgetting can ever come.

I am currently in the training phase, and it has surprisingly made me realize (again) that winning is pure bliss and that it feels awesome to know you are just excellent at something. It just dawned on me now that all my past jobs made me feel insecure, inadequate and so much less accomplished than other people. I was almost computer illiterate when I got to Ulead, and my job there was to write content for software products. In AMA, I was a supervisor who did not have a single person to supervise. As a freelance writer, I always felt anxious and apprehensive about my inexperience and my almost total lack of important connections necessary to make it big in the world of the self-employed.

Modesty aside, my skills are just perfect for this job. And this is leverage, dear. "Hustle while you wait" has always been my battlecry. The dream is far away, but not at all impossible. As what I’ve realized about myself a few months back, I am an "if not that, then this" person.

Again: I CANNOT BE DISSUADED.

Stop boring God!

I am somehow of the belief that the manifestation of success takes longer for me, but in hindsight, I realize that I always manage to have the things or be the person I used to only imagine for myself.

In one of our "class" discussions on the American culture, a batchmate raised an interesting point on how the Filipinos’ affliction is somehow attributable to our pliant and easygoing nature. Often, we complain about our condition, yet not too many will actually exert consistent, relentless effort to change it. Resilience does not only mean being able to endure and smile through suffering, but actively doing something to alleviate it.

I promise to demonstrate all the positive truths about myself that I recently re-learned: That I am not quick to give up. That I am naturally persistent when it comes to things I want. That I am competitive. That I am blessed. That despite all the pain that the recent years brought, the people dearest to me remain by my side. That God is a just God.

I imagine payoff time: the brightness of the day will make the long stay in the dark worth it. Gratification is oh-so-sweeter after the extended wait: it’s the warm, fuzzy bed on a Friday after a physically draining week, the ice-cold drink after an excruciating walk under the sun, the song’s crescendo, the novel’s perfect twist.

Then I would contently think to myself: It’s here. I’m here. I worked hard for this and I deserve this. Oh boy, do I!

It’s high-time to stop boring God, honey.

Do not fret over time–everything is still going as scheduled, detours and all.

1. Ako ang nasa unahan sa pila ng girls nung first year kasi ako ang pinaka-maliit. Pero yun na ang first and last time na ako ang smallest sa klase.

2. As a high school freshman, I was a MAJOR LOSER.   

3. Nakilala ko ang mga kaibigang hanggang ngayon ay kasama ko pa rin, at sigurado akong makakasama ko hanggang sa pagtanda.

KISEKA: Mabuhay kayo!

4. Halos lahat ng mga barkada sa batch namin ay may mga pangalan pa at nire-recognize ito ng lahat: Jorpax, Kiseka, Takyo, Ar-Kads, Vraactjern… Hindi ko na maalala ang iba. Kung ngayon mo pakikinggan ang mga pangalan, parang maiisip mo na, “Pakshet, ang babaduy natin nung high school!”

5. 8 kami sa aking core barkada. Kasama dito ang Valedictorian at Salutatorian ng aming batch. Nasa barkada din namin ang Top 4, at ilang mga officers sa CAT.

6. Doon ko unang na-realize na sobrang sarap ng friendship, company, at intellectual challenge na naibibigay ng mga baklush! (Hello, Jon Joseph, Alvin Ferrer, at Louie Dave!)

7. NSAT na ang aming government-mandated exam, hindi NCEE.

8. Noong 1996, ilang lingo o araw bago kami grumaduate, naganap ang Ozone Tragedy. Napaka-daming mga kabataan ang na-trap at namatay sa sunog na nangyari sa Ozone Disco, isa sa mga pinakamalaki at pinakasikat na disco places noon. Karamihan pa sa kanila ay mga graduating students din na tulad namin na nagse-celebrate ng pagtatapos ng school year.

9. Nauso ang kanta ni Mariah Carey na “One Sweet Day.” Tungkol kasi ito sa kamatayan, kaya parang naging special song ito na dine-dedicate ng mga namatayan sa mga mahal sa buhay na naging biktima ng Ozone Tragedy.

10. Commander ako ng Flight Bravo sa CAT. Iyon ang set ng mga candidates para maging Non-Commissioned Officers. Sobrang galing ng mga cadets ng flight na yun! Sila ang Best Model Flight at nanalo din ng Best in Rifle Drills. Ang saya-saya ko lang nung CAT graduation habang tinatanggap ang mga trophies nila. May medal din ako as officer, pero nakalimutan ko na kung ano. Some Leadership chuva.

11. Ako, si Cheryl Ingles, ay Best in English nung graduation. Parang patawa, di ba? Buti na lang hindi ako naging Best in Filipino.

12. Gusto kong magturo ng English balang araw, pero iniisip ko na saka na lang pag may asawa na ako at iba na ang apilido ko. Otherwise, pag tinanong ang mga estudyante ko kung sino ang teacher nila sa English, sasabihin nila, “Si Ms. Ingles!” Baka akalaing joke at ala pang maniwala sa kanila!

13. Sobrang nanawa ako sa cornyng patawa ng mga teachers who meet me for the first time. When they call the roll and see that my last time is Ingles, they’d say, “Kaano-ano mo si Ruben Tagalog?” O kaya ay, “Ingles-Tagalog dictionary.”

May naging teacher pa ako, si Mr. Buco. Ang tawag nya sa akin tuwing recitation ay, “Yes, Ms. Cheryl Ingles-Filipino-Math-Science?” Pucha!

14. Siguro dahil gusto ko ang teacher namin na si Ms. Tolentino, naging pangarap ko din ang maging Best in T.H.E. Talagang karir kung karik sa paggawa ng mga projects at pagluluto sa T.H.E. room! Kaso, ang kaklase kong si Lara Leen Sabas ang nanalo ng award na yun. Siguro kasi mas magaling siya sa akin mag-cross stitch. Hehehe. Joke lang!

15. Nag-bulsa ako ng ballpen sa National Bookstore at nahuli ako ng guard! Isinama nya ako sa isang office sa likod ng National, at ipinasulat ang pangalan ko sa logbook. Siyempre nag-imbento ako ng pangalan, at ang address na nilagay ko ay doon sa bahay na tinirhan namin dati sa Caloocan. Tapos, binayaran ko ang pesteng ballpen, at pinaalis na nila ako. Medyo nahiya ako sa nangyari, kasi kasama ko pa ang mga kabarkada ko noon. Pero ang mas tumatakbo pa nga sa isip ko, “Ganon pala ang ginagawa sa shoplifters!” Nung nagkita na kami sa labas ng National, takot na takot ang itsura ng mga kaibigan ko. Sabi pa nila, “Susko, akala namin tino-torture ka na sa loob!” OA talaga ang mga bata!

16. First year highschool din ako nung mayroon akong diary na minsan dinadala ko sa school para anytime may gusto akong isulat, handa siya. Sa sobrang pagka-burara ko, naiwan ko ba naman ang diary ko sa classroom! Kinabukasan, nakita ko ang diary sa ilalim ng desk ko. Kinakabahan pa ako, kasi baka may nag-bulatlat sa kanya at nalaman na ang aking mga sikreto!

Lumipas ang halos buong araw na wala naming nagbabanggit ng kahit ano tungkol doon kaya inisip kong wala naman sigurong nakabasa. Pagdating ng halos last subject, ayan na! Nakalimutan ko na ngayon kung tungkol saan ba ang discussion, basta bigla na lang humirit ang isang kaklase kong lalake na, “Sa diary nga ni Cheryl, nakasulat, ‘I LOVE (pangalan ng crush ko non na kaklase din namin)!’ ”

Gusto kong lumubog sa lupa o di kaya naman ay mamatay on the spot! Sa sobrang galit at hiya, binato ko ang atribidong lalake ng pencil case ko (tin can pa ata yun). Kung marunong na akong magmura ng mga panahong iyon ay baka nakatikim pa siya ng malutong na…!

17. Vice President ako ng Student Council.

18. Laging may kung ano-anong instrumento sa headquarters namin sa CAT. Marami kasi sa mga officers ang kasali sa mga rock bands na sobrang uso ng mga panahong iyon. Doon ako natuto mag-gitara at mag-drums. Pero hindi naman ako naging magaling. Ngayon eh hindi ko maalala at all kung paano mag-drums…

19. Sobrang sikat ng Eraserheads. Tuwing may Battle of the Bands sa skwela, hindi mawawalan ng bandang tutugtog ng “Pare Ko” o “Toyang.” Buhay na buhay ang Pinoy Rock Bands during this period. Pumasok din ang Yano, Parokya ni Edgar, Rivermaya (at si Bamboo pa ang bokalista nila noon), etc.

20. Isa akong war freak. Palagi akong nanunugod ng mga tao, kahit para sa sobrang liit na dahilan lang. Ngayon, mataray pa din ako, pero ang laki na ng ipinag-mellow down ko, pramis… At iwas-galore na rin ako sa mga komprontasyon.

21. Ako ang nag “Last Will” speech (ito nga ba ang tawag doon?) nung Senior Prom.

22. Parang pang-sagala/ pang-kasal ang suot kong gown nung Junior Prom. All-white kung all-white!

23. May adviser akong nagwala at parang baliw na pinagpupunit ang aming bulletin board nung second year. Ang dahilan? Nagalit sya kasi napagkatuwaan ng mga kaklase kong guluhin ang letters sa pinto ng section that spelled “2-HEMINGWAY” at ginawa itong “2-NEW HAM.”

24. Ang mga naging class sections ko ay 1-Galileo, 2-Hemingway, 3- Russell, at 4-St. Augustine.

25. First time tumawa ng terror Math teacher namin nang magkamali sa pagbasa ang kaklase kong si Jerome sa word na “brackets.” Sabi niya, “The numbers inside the breykets…” Ayun, hindi napigilang matawa ng dating sobrang seryosong guro ng Math.

26. Banas na banas ako tuwing mage-exam kami na may instructions to encircle or underline a word, tapos may kaklaseng magtatanong, “Sir, copy and answer?” HELLO?!

27. Nasa skwelahan na ako ng na-realize kong “gravitational socks” pala ang aking nasuot. (i.e. ala itong garter). Eh yun ang araw ng pangangampanya namin para sa Student Council. Nakakahiya naman kung nahuhulog-hulog ang medyas ko, di ba? Ang ginawa ko, nilagyan ko ng scotch tape ang medyas bago nagsimula sa pagru-room-to-room.

Syempre dahil kandidato ako, kilala ako ng maraming bata. Pag makakasalubong ko sila sa corridors, babatiin nila ako ng “Hi, Ate Cheryl!” At syempre, smile to the max at kakaway-kaway naman ako sa kanila na parang artista. Nung araw na yun, may isang bata ba naman na humahabol sa akin at sumisigaw na, “Ate Cheryl, Ate Cheryl! May scotch tape ka sa paa!” At  talagang hindi pa na-kuntento ang gaga, tinanggal pa nya ang tape that was keeping my socks up! Tuloy, naglaglagan ang aking mga “gravitational socks!”

Buti na lang nanalo pa rin ako, garter-less socks and all…

28. Never akong nakapasok ng service sa volleyball sa PE class mula first year hanggang fourth year.

29. Bagsak ako nung first quarter ng 4^th year sa Physics. Kasi ba naman, bukod hindi talaga ako kagalingan sa subject, lagi ko pang nakakaaway yung teacher namin (sabi sa iyo, salbahe kasi ako dati). Ang masakit pa nito, 15 over 80 ba naman ang score ko sa final exam! Ayun, pagdating ng report card, 73! Pero kinausap ko siya at nag-sorry ako, tapos bati na kami. Kinareer ko talaga ang pag-aaral ng Physics kahit hirap na hirap ako sa kanya. Nung second quarter, 10 points ang inangat ng grade ko. 83 na ako! Yey!

30. Miss, at hindi Ma’am, ang tawag namin sa mga gurong babae.

31. Nagtuturo ng typing skills ang teacher namin sa Computer Class. Sabi nya, “Class, when you type, you use your fingernails!” Uhm, Miss, mahirap po ata mag-type gamit ang mga kuko!

Siya nga rin pala ang nagsabi sa amin to”form a straight circle.”

32. May teachers kami na mas siraulo pa sa amin. Katulad nung teacher na tumatawag sa akin ng Cheryl Ingles-Filipino-Math-Science. Pag tinanong mo siya kung saan isusulat ang assignment, sasagutin ka nya ng, “Sa noo mo!”

Galit na galit siya sa akin dati dahil lagi ko pinagtatawanan ang pronunciation niya. Eh kasi naman! Eto classic sample na lang. Ang page-enumerate niya sa levels ng high school: Persher, Seconjer, Terjer, Porcher. At pag minamadali ka niya, sasabihin niya, “Finish that imi-JEYT-li!”

            Peace tayo, Sir!

33. Ang bansag namin sa aming Principal ay si “Matet.” Kasi tuwing mage-express siya ng agreement with what you said, ipipikit nya ang mata nya, ititikom ang bibig, sabay bow.

Hahaha. Parang si Matet talaga!

34. Kabisado ko ang Philippine Bill of Rights dahil nagkaroon kami ng oral exam (na word for word recitation!) sa Araling Panlipunan tungkol dito. Siyempre, wala na rin akong maalala kahit alin sa mga ito ngayon.

35. Nag-emcee ako ng school-wide beauty pageant nung 3^rd year highschool ako. Ka-partner ko ang batchmate ko na si Barley. Naalala ko na ang suot ko on the night of the event ay isang terno na parang pang-samba! White blouse with matching shoulder pads and gold buttons, sabay mahabang paldang kulay blue na may mga munting polka dots. Nakakadiri talaga! (Pero syempre, feeling ko noon eh ayos na ang getup na yun!)

36. Ang usong-usong brands ng damit noon ay Giordano Blues, Guess, at Doc Martens. At pati rin pala ang Girbaud, na ang basa ng isang kaklase namin ay “Jirboo.”

Sa ayos ng buhok ng babae naman ay uso ang French twist (may special tool ka pa para magawa ito ng perfect—yung parang plastic giant needle ang itsura). O di kaya naman ay ipupusod mo ang buhok mo ng mataas, ala-labandera.

37. Nauso rin sa amin noon na pag ang bag mo ay backpack at hindi mo binantayan, pupunuin ito ng mga loko-loko sa klase ng mga kung ano-anong basura.

Kwento nga ng isang kaklase namin, nagtataka daw siya kung bakit parang bumigat ang bag niya nung pauwi siya. Paano nga ba naming hindi bibigat, eh pagbukas daw niya ng bag niya sa bahay, may laman itong mga kahoy, libro ng kung sino-sino, at pati ba naman rebulto ni Sto. Niño!

38. Sobrang close ng fourth year class namin, ang St. Augustine. Sabay-sabay kami magpalit ng pang-PE sa loob ng classroom noon. Walang kiyemeng nakikipag-kwentuhan ang mga babae sa mga lalake habang naka-sando at nagsusuot ng jogging pants.

Hay, kaka-miss!

39. Tuwing school fair, mayroong isang booth na ang tawag ay Folk House. Dito tumutugtog ang mga banda from different levels. Isa ito sa mga pinaka-mabebentang booths tuwing fair.

40. Ang club ko nung Fourth Year ay Ruizian Scribe. Iyon dapat ang magpa-publish ng first-ever newsletter sa skwelahan namin. Kaya lang, hindi naman ito natuloy. Isa sa mga kinahihinayangan ko sa buhay na wala akong experience sa pagsusulat sa school paper. Awww.

41. Dahil nga ala akong talento sa kahit na anong sport, sumasali na lang ako sa Cheerleading tuwing Intrams. Opo, ito ang grupo ng mga babae at lalake na nagkeke-kembot at nagtata-tumbling with matching pompoms. Hindi ko rin maintindihan kung ano ba ang pumasok sa kukote ko at inisip ko na, with my mala-puno sa tigas na katawan, ay magsasasayaw ako ng ganon. AT hindi lang isang beses, kundi tatlo! Blue Team nung first year at Green Team nung Second at Fourth Year.

‘Tangina, kadiri.

42. Sa sobrang baba ng grades ko nung Third Year at Fourth Year (73 ako sa Physics at 76 naman sa Math nung first quarter ng 4^th year), inisip kong wala ng matinong college na tatanggap sa akin. Puro kasi ako extra-curricular activities. Ganunpaman, sa top 3 universities lang ako kumuha nga entrance exam: UP, La Salle at Ateneo. Pero malaki ang doubt sa isip ko na makakapasa ako dahil nga lahat ng mga skwelahang ito ay kasama ang Transcript of Grades from Junior year to the first two quarters of the Senior year sa application requirements. Pucha tsong, high school grades pa lang, olats na ko!

Pagdating ng January, labasan na ng UPCAT results. Naaala ko pang parang nanalo sa beauty pageant na nagsi-sigaw sa classroom ang kabarkada kong si Lala nang malaman niya na pumasa siya sa dream course nya na BAA! Eh sa isip-isip ko, “Nagulat pa ang babaeng ‘to, eh Top 1 kaya sya sa batch!” Pasado rin ang may bionic brains na si Nene, ang kabarkada ko rin na Top 2 naman. Ang isa ko pang kabarkada na si Grace ay pasok din sa Anthropology. Marami pang nagsipag-rejoice noon kasi pumasa sila sa mga iba’t-ibang kursong in-applyan nila sa UP. Ako naman, syempre slightly disappointed, pero hindi na rin nagulat. Inisip ko pa na ang tanga-tanga ko kasi, bakit ba Economics ang in-applyan ko eh quota course yun!

Friday of the same week. Kakatapos lang ng huling araw ng periodical exam. Syempre, half day lang ang klase. Nag-hihintay ako sa lobby sa mga kabarkada kong nagsipuntahan sa UP para tingnan ulit ang listahan. Bad trip na bad trip na ako sa kanila kasi ang tagal ko na naghihintay at sa isip-isip ko, “Bwiset naman ang mga ‘to, alam na naman nilang pumasa sila!” 

Bigla na lang, may narinig akong isang matinis at malakas na sigaw na “Che-Cheeeeeeeee!” Paglingon ko ay nagtatakbuhan ang mga kabarkada ko papunta sa akin. Tandang-tanda ko na nangunguna pa ang Valedictorian naming si Lala at ang ubod ng pungay at ningning na mga mata ni Jon Joseph. Parang nag-uunahan pa sa pagtakbo ang dalawa. May sinasabi sila na hindi ko maintindihan. Nang makalapit na sila sa akin, sumigaw ulit ang humahangos-hangos pang si Jon Joseph, “Che-che! Pumasa ka sa U-Peeeee!” at niyakap ako ng sobrang higpit.

Noon ko naintindihan ng lubusan kung bakit umiiyak ang mga nagwa-wagi sa Ms. Universe. Nang mag-sink in sa akin ang balita, naghaha-hagulgol talaga ako sa sobrang galak! Halo-halong disbelief, relief…At ang babaeng bading na si Lala ay humirit pa ng, “O di ba, Miss Universe ang feeling?!”

Pinilit ko silang bumalik ulit sa UP. Gusto kong makita ng sarili kong mga mata ang pangalan ko sa listahang iyon. At ayun nga siya. Nasa blackboard na may label na, “Resolved Pending Cases.” INGLES, CHERYL BAUTISTA – BS ECONOMICS.

Pasensya na sa mga hindi nakakita ng pangalan nila sa listahan. Patago ko kasing pinilas ito sa blackboard at inilagay sa photo album ko sa bahay. =)

Pumasa rin pala ako sa La Salle. Sa Ateneo lang hindi nakalusot ang aking makulay na high school grades. Shyet!

1. Nung 9 years old ako, niregaluhan ako ng Daddy ko ng isang poodle na ang pangalan ay “Twinkle.” Mahal na mahal ko si Twinkle. Siya ang unang-unang tuta na talagang masasabi kong sa akin. Komo nga makapal at kulot ang balahibo niya, lagi itong nagkakabuhol-buhol. Minsan nag-bakasyon ako sa bahay ng lola ko, at hindi ko alam na pina-kalbo pala siya ng Daddy ko. Pag-uwi ko sa bahay, may puting asong payat, panget, at walang balahibo na tumatakbo papunta sa akin. Sumigaw ako na, “Sino yan?!” Nang malaman ko na si Twinkle yun, nag-iiyak ako. Awang-awa ako sa kanya. Feeling ko non, inapi siya ng Daddy ko kasi pinagupitan siya ng ganon.

2. Meron pa rin kaming naging aso na ubod ng cute at ubod ng bait. Para rin siyang poodle kasi kulot-kulot ang balahibo niya, pero malaki sya at napaka-taba. Para siyang tupa! Sobra-sobra nyang cute!

May isang bagay lang akong hindi gusto sa kanya: isa syang aso, pero ang pangalan niya ay “Tweetie.” Ayos ba?

3. Mahilig ang Daddy ko sa German Shepherd. Ang unang German Shepherd niya ay si Hitler. Namatay ito sa sakit. Ang sumunod naman ay si Odin. Graduate pa nga ng Philippine Dog School si Odin. Pero ang nakikita ko lang naman na kaya niyang gawin ay mga tricks na pang-poodle: magtatalon na parang show dog. Ayaw kasi siya paturuan ni Daddy ng “Attack!” at baka nga naman kami pa ang i-attack nya! Tuloy, ang laki-laki niyang aso pero hindi siya marunong magalit.

4. Nagkaroon kami ng isang matandang maid na medyo ulyanin. Isang araw, naririnig ko siya na may tinatawag. Sabi niya, “Bruno? Bruno!” Akala ko tuloy ay may manliligaw na ‘Bruno’ na si Manang!

Nang lumabas ako ay nakita kong hinihimas-himas niya ang aming alagang askal. Ang tinatawag niya palang Bruno ay ang aso naming si “Boomer.”

1. Madalas akong maging class representative sa academic contests every quarter. Nag-champion ako sa Science, sa Reading, pati nga sa Christian Living, at kung ano-ano pa…

Ang pinakamalaking contest na sinalihan ko ay ang General Information Quiz Bee nung Grade 1. Final round na. Dalawa na lang kaming contestants na naglalaban for first place. Tie breaker question. Ang tanong ay: "Saan huling nagpunta ang Pangulong Cory Aquino?"

Hindi ko nasagutan kaya second place lang tuloy ako. Baket? Kasi ang rinig ko ba naman doon sa question eh, "Saan huling nagpunta ang katulong ni Cory Aquino?"!

First Grader Che’s thought bubble: "PAKIALAM KO?! BAKA SA KUSINA!"

2. Naglalagay ako ng hair conditioner sa buong katawan. Noon kasi, lagi akong nasasabihan na hindi ako marunong sumayaw at matigas ang katawan ko. Feeling ko, mapapalambot ng conditioner ang aking katawan.

Tuloy ngayon, kailangan pa ng matindi-tinding pilitan bago mo ako mapasayaw. At sa buhok na lang din ako nagko-conditioner.

3. Nalaglagan ko ng karayom (at ito ay isang napakalaking machine needle!) ang aking lalamunan.

Mahilig kasi ako magsundot ng ilong para ma-hatsing. Eh minsan nakahiga ako, pag-hatsing ko, nabitawan ko ang karayom. Nalaglag ito sa ilong ko at dire-diretso sa lalamunan. Tandang-tanda ko pa na imbes na mag-panic, the thought running through my head as I rushed to the bathroom was, "Ah, konektado pala ang butas ng ilong sa lalamunan!"

Obvious ba na nailuwa ko naman ang karayom.

4. Most Behaved Girl ako nung Grade 1. (Favorite ata ako ng adviser ko non eh!)

Kung nakilala mo ako sa highschool na or later, hindi mo mapapaniwalaang minsan ay naging Most Behaved ako. Isang beses lang nangyari ito sa tanang buhay ko.

5. Tinago ko ang lunch box ng classmate ko habang bumibili sya ng softdrinks. Pagbalik nya, litong-lito siya at hindi niya maintindihan kung bakit nawala ang baunan niya. Kumakain ako ng apple non at pilit na pinipigil ang pag-halakhak. Pero siyempre, eventually ay hindi ko rin napigil. Naibuga ko tuloy ang kinakain ko sa kanya!

Parang galing sa pelikula ni Dolphy o Tito, Vic, and Joey ang eksena: cut to a close-up shot of my classmate na may mga nanguya-nguyang apple sa mukha at buhok.

HAHAHAHA. Hanggang ngayon, natatawa pa din ako pag naaalala ko.

6. Crush ko si Raymond Lauchengco nung Prep ako. (Favorite movie ko kasi noon ang Saan Darating ang Umaga). Mayroon pa nga kaming plaka ng album nya.

7. Idol–as in IDOL–ko si Sheryl Cruz nung Grade 4. Mayroon pa ako ng album nya na na kulay violet at may 2 tapes.

Sa Music Class ay, "Sabi Ko Na Nga Ba" pa ang aking selected piece para sa final singing test.

8. Lagi kaming nag-aaway ng ate ko kasi fan naman siya ni Manilyn Reynes.

9. Feeling ko ay in-love ako kay Benjie Paras. Rookie pa sya ng Shell noong ‘89 or early ’90s. Sumusulat pa nga ako sa kanya, at meron akong special box devoted to clippings of pictures and articles about him.

10. A few years after the Paras fanaticism, na-impluwensyahan ako ng Daddy ko at naging BIG Añejo/ Ginebra fan. Heroes ko sina Jawo, Distrito, Isaac, Ampalayo, Chito Loyzaga, at Cuenco.

May isang championship match pa na kalaban ko ang mga pinsan ko dahil lahat sila ay maka-Shell at ako lang ang Añejo. 1991 Championship yun.

Syempre, Añejo ang nanalo. At one point lang ang lamang. Heart-stopping game talaga!

11. Nagro-rollerskating kami ng mga kaibigan ko sa Quezon City circle.

12. 13 years old na ako ng matuto akong mag-bike.

13. Pinagpalit ko ang price tag ng isang mas mahal na libro sa isang chipipay na coloring book sa National Bookstore.

14. Nagme-mememorize ako ng kung ano-ano galing sa encyclopedia pag bored.

15. Hanggang ngayon, memoryado ko ang multiplication table–pero hanggang 10 lang. =)

A few weeks ago, I was asked by an NGO I applied for to write my thoughts about teamwork. This is what I came up with.

And no, I did not pursue that application anymore as I got busy with my new job and the excitement of working in an NGO that focuses on issues not even relevant to my country lost its appeal all too soon. 

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Not even the most confident of individuals can scoff at the essential role that teamwork plays in any endeavor. More than established structure, high education, experience, or opportunities, a collectively strong desire and steadfast will to achieve a common vision among the members of an organization has, time and again, proved to be the core requisite in making things happen.

A few months ago, I was tapped by the Foundation for Media Alternatives to conduct key informant interviews with the 2004 winners of the Ini An Sorsoganon! Barangay Awards. IASBA is a project of the Lingap para sa Kalusugan ng Sambayanan, a local organization based in the province of Sorsogon, that awards practices of good governance in the grassroots. One of the recipients of the award is the municipality of Sua for the locals’ success in building a high school without support from the Department of Education or the provincial government.

Sua is a remote island in the province that is accessible only by boat. Because of the sheer difficulty and the monetary costs of traveling from the island to the nearest school and back, many of the children opt to stop schooling after they graduate from the elementary level. Alarmed by this tendency, the people of Sua decided to stop waiting for dole-outs from the government and take the matter into their own hands.

How did the people of the little town of Sua, many of them illiterate and with barely enough to eat, manage to build their own school? What’s even more impressive is that they did so without funding from neither the national nor the local government. The only driving force then was that they did not want their kids to grow up like them, stuck in the town because opportunities for the uneducated are almost always very limited. A better future was all they had in mind as people from 7 barangays in the municipality banded together and developed a plan that will guide them in building the school.

Bayanihan was their sole capital. A land donation from one of the locals ignited passion among the residents and jumpstarted the construction of the school. With no money for materials, the locals brought to the site, from their own homes and from whatever resources they could find, all that they thought they’d need: nails, wood, pieces of steel, crusty equipment…each was not able to bring much, having very limited resources themselves. But collectively, the donated pieces turned out to be enough to make one school.

This huge accomplishment of Sua’s locals is, for me, a concrete and inspiring manifestation of the lengths that a group could reach if the members are united and share the belief that every contribution, big or small, counts. As has been recited countless times, “I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something.” If every member genuinely trusts that he/she has something to give, and selflessly gives what he can, then the organization to which he/she belongs and all that it stands for will never be for naught.

An organization is only as good as its members. Even the greatest leader is nothing without the effort of his or her followers–a brilliant idea can only go so far. Advocacies are pushed for by groups, not individuals. Changes are stirred not by the faith of a person alone, but by the hearts and sinew of many.

Take away a single screw and the machine will stop grinding. That’s one analogy I can think of about teamwork. Teamwork is an organization’s soul; it’s a group’s lifeblood.

My former housemate, Nana, once lent me a copy of the book, He’s Just Not That Into You. It is written by one of the male writers in the popular comedy series, Sex and the City (I forget his name). I found it quite interesting, although I think the author tends to generalize too much. One point he made which I totally agree with, though, is:

If he is really into you, you will be the bright spot in his horribly busy day.

Too often, we tell ourselves the guy/girl is not calling/ texting/ writing because he/she is busy, has gazillions of stuff to do, is close to cracking under the intense pressure at work… Yet, I believe that if one is really in love, he/she would want to spend as much time as possible with his/her object of affection . Of course, space is a necessity. But soon after the wish for distance is granted, a point when one is just squirming for the loved one is bound to come and is inevitable.

Each day in my new job (hey, I haven’t told you I already resigned from the call center, have I? ) is just packed with pressure and deadlines to be met and intensive brain use. Once, in the middle of an extremely draining day, I felt a need to rant and tell someone that I feel bad, that I am not as good at what I do as I thought, that there’s nothing I want more than to just drop everything, throw in the towel, and go home…

But aside from friends and family, there was no one to call. Not that I am downplaying the important roles that these people play in my life, but it is, well, just different with a lover. Don’t make me explain because I won’t be able to. Besides, I am sure you know what I am talking about.

You yearn for his voice because it will soothe you. He cannot push back your deadlines or reduce your work load or allow you to take a leave, but he can tell you, "You can do it!" And you will find relief in that because you know he is not just saying it and he really believes it and that he means it with all his heart. Even when that pessimistic little voice at the back of your head persists, the knowledge that you are not entirely a goner in this crazy world because you are loved and cared for unconditionally by someone who chose to be exclusively yours… (Sigh) When all else sucks, the relief in this sheer certainty is just powerful enough to somehow make even the ugliest of things seem tolerable, if not beautiful.

And you again face all the things you’ve almost given up on–with renewed vigor this time. Simply because someone you love with all your soul told you "You can do it!" when you yourself almost stopped believing you could.

The heroine in the movie Dream for an Insomniac asked the guy who was so scared to leave his girlfriend to be with her, "At the end of a bad day, when you’re already with her, does she make things better?"

His silence told her all she needed to know.

[A computer's memory] is better than real memory because real memory, at the cost of much effort, learns to remember but not to forget…

- Umberto Eco’s Foucault’s Pendulum

It was not planned at all. What idiot would make the confession of a lifetime in a three-way phone call? They were just supposed to comfort a friend who was going through a heartbreak. To this day, he does not know what the hell possessed him and what led to the blunder, but he just heard himself blurting out, “Actually, crush nga kita ngayon eh.”

Unbearable silence followed. The wheels in his brain were turning at frightening speed. "Fuck, did I just say that? Really, did I just say that?!"

Then he began an entirely confused, rambling explanation—thus making it even more apparent that ‘crush’ was but a futile euphemism for what he more deeply felt. After what seemed like an eternity of him haplessly trying to justify the unexpected (and doggone unneeded!) confession came the flurry of exchanges that still comes clearly to him now as if it was only yesterday, and not six years ago, that it happened.

“I did not want you to hear it from someone else.” Yeah, baby, let it come from the horse’s mouth.

“I see…”

“I just wanted to be honest.” I feel iffy about keeping something from you, you know.

“Thanks for being honest.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not expecting anything naman eh.” Liar. The only reason you said what you did is because you were hopeful something would come out of it.

After which came her classic, timeless reply:

“I’m glad–not because you’re not expecting anything. I’m glad because at least you know where you stand.”

Said ever so gently, perhaps in an effort to sugarcoat the rejection or make it appear less horrible. But regardless of packaging, there is no concealing what it is. Rejection is rejection: harsh, pungent, and difficult to swallow.

As if to add insult to injury, she softly added, “This is not rejection ha.” It’s not? What is it then? The reality–no, confirmation–that she simply, plainly, did not love him back at all flooded him. She cannot be blamed, true. But that knowledge did not make it any less agonizing.

Without need for further prodding, the tears fell. Interesting how, as the eyes cried and the heart twisted and squirmed in pain, the lips could manage to smile and roll out words ever so nonchalantly. You have to give it to him: he let off not even the slightest hint of a sniff or a grunt, even though he felt just about ready to explode.

"Of course,” he said reassuringly. As if what she just said had no effect. Like it didn’t matter. Like it didn’t hurt. Lordy, if she could only see him…

It did not take a while before they finally hung up; forced casual talks could only stretch so long. The friend who they were supposed to comfort was jolted out of her own misery. In seconds, she was back on the line with him. Shaken with worry about what he just did, she asked with sickening pity, “Are you okay?”

Sheesh, I only meant to help you get over your broken heart, not cause my own. Tearfully, in between sobs, he could only mutter a weak, “Putangina, ang sakit ah!”