My Turf

Since I am employed in a company jointly fueled by Japanese and Filipino workforce, I couldn’t help but compare the Philippines’s state to that of Japan’s.

In the Philippine office, there are several Japanese employees. Most of them have been living here for quite a long time before they got hired in our company. It was only recently that I began to notice how our President, a Japanese national himself, always sees to it that when a Japanese applies for a job, he or she gets hired for whatever position–sometimes regardless of education, background, or work experience.  If a Japanese employee misbehaves or is unable to get along with the others in his or her department, he/ she is not fired but is merely transferred to another team. As for the employees themselves, not once did I hear them talk badly against one of their own, even if the misdemeanor is apparent to everyone.

It makes me sad to know that such caring and concern for fellow citizens cannot always be said about Filipinos. Right here, in our own country, we think more highly of foreigners than we do of other Filipinos, or sometimes, even of ourselves. I remember this instance in the Japanese Embassy when I had to go through a special interview. My application was initially denied, but a chance to appeal for reconsideration was sealed by my boss through his connections in the embassy. For good measure, my boss assigned one of our company’s Japanese sales managers to go with me and back me up. During the interview, the Japanese consul barely spoke to me. He did ask me a couple of questions, but in a very formal, no-nonsense manner. Then I noticed that each time he addressed our manager, he instantly transformed into a friendly, warm, cheery man. It was the first time they met, but he regarded her as if they’re long-lost friends. I was quite amazed by this because just minutes before that interview, I had a not-so-good experience with a Filipina interviewer. And this, much to my annoyance, was quite the opposite of the scene I witnessed between the consul and our manager.

We came early for my interview as I was not sure about the venue. First thing I did when I got to the embassy was to approach one of the Filipina interviewers, show my appointment form, and ask for directions on where I should go. Behind the window, she looked at me in such a haughty manner before brusquely answering, “Nakikita mo ba yung Window number nito? Baket dito ka pumunta?” I was so pissed! I wanted to tell her, “Leche ka, sumagot ka nga ng maayos! Ba’t ganyan ang trato mo sa akin eh Pilipino ka rin?!” I was so ready to snap back at her when Ms. T (the Jap manager who escorted me), quickly sensing how I was about to react, lightly pulled my arm and whispered to me to just let it go.

Barely a minute after I took a seat, that same girl caught my attention and motioned for me to go to her. She was nice this time and told me that I need to go to this room yada-yada-yada. I said, Thanks, but I was even more pissed! Just because she realized I was escorted by a Japanese, she suddenly shifted to a courteous mode?! In my head I was thinking, Bruha ka! Mas mabait ka pa sa iba kesa sa kapwa mo Pilipino!

In the Japanese Embassy, that girl’s attitude is more like the rule rather than the exception. How some Filipino interviewers could be so harsh and rude to their own countrymen is beyond me! If it were Japanese consuls who acted all stuck-up and snobbish to applicants, I’d still feel slighted but I would understand that they only have the interests of their country in mind. But these Filipinos! Sheesh, they know too well that those people are dying to go to Japan in the hope of a better life but instead of doing best to make these people feel less intimidated, they power trip and scare these poor applicants even more! I know that it is part of their jobs as interviewers to be strict and objective and impartial—I believe these traits should always be practiced regardless of the nature of your job. But condescension does not equate to strictness. Objectivity and impartiality can still be upheld without the need for arrogance. One can explain rules and regulations in layman’s terms without making the person on the other side feel like an idiot. Really, you should hear the way some Filipinos behind the windows question and speak with the applicants. I found it so infuriating! 

Let me tell you about this time I was at a resort in Laguna. We were in an area where the communal videoke machine was. I was chatting with my friends when I noticed this (old and fetus-like) Japanese guy seated the other table rudely staring. I tried to pay no mind to it, although a guy friend seated beside me also pointed it out. Anticipating what could probably happen next, we agreed to pretend he was my boyfriend. Shortly after, one of the guy’s companions who was a Filipina woman approached us and boldly told me, “Gusto daw makipag-kaibigan sayo nung bisita namin. Kamukha mo daw kasi ang first love niya” That would have been okay (though my looking like his ‘first love’ is more than a little creepy!), if not for the fact that as she said this, she handed me a 500 peso bill! AAARGH! Never in my life had I felt more insulted! Potah ka, mukha ba kong bayaran?! I shoved the bill back in her hand. My “boyfriend” told her, “Ako po ang boyfriend nya. Ikakasal na nga po kami. (yeah, he got a bit carried away with his role).” I didn’t let it end there, though. I was fuming! I looked the woman in the eye and said, “I am so offended.” That stirred her. Immediately embarrassed for what she just did, she apologized. Still I went on, “Hindi ho kayo dapat ganyan. Pilipino din ho kayo!” After that, she wouldn’t stop saying sorry and came back about two times more, offering to give me chocolates or whatever gift to make up for having offended me. Mr. Fetus (the Jap guy) eventually came to our table with glasses of beer and toasted to me and my “fiancé.” Ano ba yun?! Nakakabanas talaga ang babaeng yun. Para lang magpa-star don sa Hapon, hala sige, ibenta ang kapwa Pilipina! Ginawa pa akong cheap, talagang worth 500 lang! (Presyo lang pala ang kinakagalit ko. Hahaha!)

Seriously, these events, apart from the innumerable other differences between the Japanese people and the Filipinos in terms of attitude towards self and country, lead me to think that the reason why we are poor is because many of us seem to have lost their sense of pride.

When a product is of poor quality, we say, “Eh kasi local.” When a person is late for a meeting, we say Filipino Time. We’ve all heard stories about bad-mannered waiters in bars or restaurants rudely treating Filipino customers while, at the same time, tripping all over themselves in making sure that foreign guests get their every whim. Those who have buying power would not support Filipino-produced films, record albums or books, then be the first to complain that the Philippine movie/ music/ publishing industry sucks. The list could go on and on. How can we ever hope to prosper if we continue to think of ourselves as second class citizens, even in our own country?

I hope we have not really forgotten that we Filipinos have a lot going for us. We are a people who are not just resilient and strong in spirit, but intelligent, talented, creative, resourceful, competitive. It pains me to see how it seems as if we are increasingly becoming a country of beggars. Everywhere you go, people of all ages are in the streets asking for alms. In fact, a new money-making gimmick is being done here in the Ortigas area wherein teenagers wait on sidewalks for people coming out of their offices, approach them and say the spiel, “Excuse me, Ma’am! May I disturb you for a while?” If you make the mistake of stopping to listen to what they have to say, they will ramble on and on about being part of a group trying to raise funds for I don’t know what. And they will, of course, end their speech with, “Hihingi lang po kami ng tulong. Kahit magkano lang po.” In buses, people who claim to belong to religious organizations just step in the middle of the aisle with their mini stereo and microphone, preach about the word of God, then hand out envelopes later on, asking for donations of “whatever amount.” If you walk with food or drink in your hand, kids will just approach you and ask, “Ate, Kuya! Akin na lang yan?”

In God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy wrote:

Inured by the confirmation of his own inconsequence, he became resilient and truly indifferent. Nothing mattered much. Nothing much mattered. And the less it mattered, the less it mattered. It was never important enough because worse things happened. In the country that he came from, poised forever between the terror of war and the horror of peace, worse things kept happening.

Sadly, I think many have already given up and succumbed to this way of thinking. Honestly, I do not understand at all when and how the Filipinos came to this. How could the value of dreaming dreams and striving to achieve them just escape us? When did we transform into a nation of cowards: so afraid to offend, so eager to impress? When did settling for scraps become an alternative to gunning for bigger things?

Worse yet, those who have been given good training and education by the Philippines’s teachers just bolt for another country at the first opportunity. They, who would have been this nation’s shot at a better future, are now nowhere to be found. And yet, they are also the ones who so easily dismiss the Philippines as hopeless.

I ask myself: What resulted in the complete twist of fate for Japan, a country that once suffered loss and poverty worse by far than what the Philippines has ever gone through? Germany was almost in rubbles after the Great Depression, but it is a country to contend with now. How did North Korea, divided and crushed by war, end up as one of the world’s most powerful nations today?

I can think of only one answer. The concept of “Nation.” The essence of patriotism. When the people of these once-poor lands decided they wanted a change—for their country, for themselves, for their children, for their children’s children—they got their act together and united toward that common goal.

That burning desire for change and the passion to turn things around for greater purposes apart from one’s self is lacking in the Philippines. And perhaps, therein lies all the difference.

There’s still a chance for us. Fierce determination and steadfast resolve remain the key to a complete reversal of circumstances. May we all live to see the “time when the unthinkable became thinkable and the impossible really happened,” ika nga ni Arundhati Roy.

Her eyes were her most valued asset.

The adage that says the eyes are the windows to one’s soul was perfectly true for her. It was always easy to tell what she feels or what she’s up to just by looking at those pools: they sparkle when she’s happy, well-up when she’s sad, squint (though often against her will) when she’s angry, and just shine when she’s excited. 

She loved them not only for their beauty—they are deep-set and framed by the longest, curliest lashes that are every woman’s envy— her work, her passion and interests, all the things she loved to do required seeing. And her eyes not once failed her.

Until that night. And remembering it still gives her the creeps.

Blindness was something she had always dreaded for some reason she couldn’t understand. Whether it was a premonition, self-fulfilling prophecy (which asserts that one gravitates to a situation that he/she always imagines himself/herself to be in), or God’s cruel joke that caused such atrocity to fall on her is now the least of her concerns.

The splinters that ruined her eyes, ruined her, have already been pulled out, but her sight still refuses to return. And she had just been informed that she will forever be stuck in such condition.  

“Why me? Why this?”

Perhaps, she could live without hearing. It will be a terrible world without music, without sound…but she is pretty certain she could manage. In the same way she is sure that, although with much bitterness and difficulty, she could somehow take not being able to speak or walk. But to not be able to see, and stare, and read, and watch…?  

That she will be living in the dark from this day forward and for all eternity is totally unthinkable, unacceptable. But it’s the only truth her sightless state could clearly see.

“Heavens, what thing did I do so badly to deserve this fate?”

Crying: beginning today, that’s all those eyes will ever be good for.

You stand there crying and gaping at me, your eyes dancing with hatred, your anger so intense you couldn’t even speak. A weak whimper is all you could manage.  

Well…

You couldn’t accuse me of dishonesty. When I said I loved you, I wasn’t lying. I felt and meant every word I said. At least, at that particular moment, that fraction of time.

It’s just that when the gush of emotions finally subsided, the words simply ceased to be true.

You really should have read Catcher in the Rye. Then it wouldn’t be so hard for me to explain this. Even that college boy, Holden Caulfield, would know what I am talking about.

I said I’ll never lie to you. And true to my promise, I’m being completely honest now: You are of no value to me. Only once—only at that particular moment, at that fraction of time, when I was grasping at straws and you were the only one around. Thanks for the company, but I’m back on my feet and I no longer need you.

Stop glaring at me like that!

Read: I never lied to you. It’s just that what I told you then no longer holds true. Hence, I am not at fault.  

You stand there crying, feeling abandoned and betrayed, your eyes wide with disbelief.

I shrug my shoulders and leave. I have nothing to feel guilty about.

It had been more than a year since I familiarized myself with the lyrics of the songs from the popular musical, Avenue Q. One afternoon, as I typed away at my work station, I decided to play a couple of Avenue Q tracks. It has been a while since I last listened to them

One of my favorite cuts is I Wish I Could Go Back to College because I could very well relate to the sentiments expressed by the characters in this song.

While I had a blast in high school, college offered a different brand of fun. But there are many things I miss about college other than the fun times and the gimmicks.

I wish I could go back to college.

Life was so simple back then.

What would I give to go back and live in a dorm with a meal plan again!

What would I give to go back and live with my parents, eat home-cooked meals (my Mom is an amazing cook!), receive an allowance (it was never much, but at least it was constant!), never have to think about rental fees and bills… These are realities that adults like you and me often have to deal with almost soon after graduation. 

I wish I could go back to college.

In college you know who you are.

You sit in the quad, and think, "Oh my God!

I am totally gonna go far!"

Back in College, I had an “After-graduation-master-plan.” Work in an advertising agency for two years. Save up. Go to New York (or London) and study. Go back to the Philippines. Earn more money. Buy a car. Buy a house. Meet a wonderful, intellectually-challenging, gentleman and get married at 26. Have kids before 30.

I am now 27 and I am not even close to achieving any of these plans. And I tried and gave my best. I really did.

It is said in the popular Sunscreen graduation address, “Don’t congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. YOUR CHOICES ARE HALF-CHANCE AND SO ARE EVERYONE ELSE’S” When I look at how my life has been so far and start to feel sad that I am not ever half of what I used to believe I would be when I get to this age, I think about these lines and I feel better.

My choices are half-chance. So are yours. So are everyone else’s.  It really is a fair world.

Feel proud and be humbled.

How do I go back to college?

I don’t know who I am anymore!

In college, I was so aware of my talents and skills. I had so much confidence in my education. But joining the real world (i.e. the world of the employed) caused me to doubt all of that. Less than a year after I started working, I was struck with the realization that there are tons of people who are smarter, better-equipped, more experienced–this knowledge made me feel insecure. And as the years passed, the growing discomfort that I have been left behind by my batch mates often gives me a sinking feeling that, despite how big I thought I was when I was in college, I am now a failure.

I wanna go back to my room and find a message in dry-erase pen on the door!

I wish I could just drop a class…

Or get into a play…

Or change my major…

Or fuck my T.A.

I need an academic advisor to point the way!

Half a decade ago, all I had to do to lift up my spirits after an insanely bad day is go to our college org tambayan (which we call “The Verandah”), puff a cigarette, go for a drink and rant to my friends. If not that, I go to the nearby mall and watch a movie. Unsatisfied with my first course, I shifted to one that fit me better. I consulted professors and older friends for concerns I could not understand. If I ran out of money, I asked my parents for more.

It was that simple in college. There was always a constant refuge. There was a comfort zone that I was confident would always be there. There were stable pillars to lean on to. But after leaving the portals of my university and getting a separate apartment, I was beset with problems I did not even think about when I was still studying! Now, nothing is constant. You can be loaded today, and wake up jobless and with nowhere to go tomorrow. “Complete trust” ceased to exist.

I wish I could go back to college!

How do I go back to college?!

I wish I had taken more pictures.

True. Very true.

Even with my Bogart hairstyle (my hair was a really short crop then–like a boy’s—that college orgmates baptized me with this nickname), I still do wish I had taken more pictures.  College for me was a colorful, fun-filled, significance-filled experience. And having missed capturing plenty of my life’s most wonderful moments make me feel extremely irritated with myself. 

But if I were to go back to college,

Think what a loser I’d be-

I’d walk through the quad,

And think "Oh my God…"

"These kids are so much younger than me."

When I could find the time, I attend gatherings organized by the resident members of my college organization. To this day, I still couldn’t help but be surprised at how much time has passed—most of these kids are at least 8 to 10 years my junior! That it had been exactly a decade since I was a short-haired, wide-eyed freshman in jeans and sandals, walking along UP’s Palma Hall, Form 5 in hand, struggling to find where my 7 AM Philosophy 1 classroom was. Geez, time does fly fast!

For me, reminiscing inevitably brings about introspection. And in my introspection, I review what I have done and what has become of my life 5 years after I graduated from college.

In the novel, Memoirs of a Geisha, the heroine, Sayuri, gave much thought about “Lives of Purpose.” Her musing led me to think about the whole point of existence, my own “What am I doing here?” ruminations. 

Reminding myself that I am still living a Life of Purpose saves me from drowning in depression over my present condition. I may not have done even a portion of what I sought to do when I was in college, it remains to be a purposeful life nonetheless. For every help I am able to give to my own family through every work I take on, I am living a life of purpose.

On a bigger scope, I consider myself luck to be given the opportunity to help my countrymen in Japan who need assistance, whose sadness and homesickness need alleviation regardless of magnitude—through Satellite Pinoy TV, through affordable and efficient telecommunication, through Philippine-made products, through door-to-door delivery…In effect, through all the services I am able to help bring to them, I am living a life of purpose.

Then I do not feel so small anymore. My skills are not useless. And I am not a failure.

It has been repeated, time and again, that where we are is where we are meant to be. And we have long left college because there is a mass of things that we need to do, plenty of roles we have to play, a number of lives that we can touch.

It is a good life. It always has been. And it is bound to get better.

I am glad to be here.

Nung isang araw, may party ang mga kapitbahay naming nakatira sa apartment next to ours. I’ve never met any of them, but I noticed that they’re quite fond of inviting friends over. I’m usually not home early (especially not during weekends) so I don’t get to experience first-hand the noise they make that my sister often complains about.

Last Friday, I found myself with nothing to do. With the folks I usually hang out with still busy with work, I had no choice but go home and wait until they’re free.

It was still early, just a little past 9 PM, but the neighbors’ party was already in full swing. Up in my room, I could hardly concentrate on the book I was reading. The distraction, however, was far from negative. I did not feel pissed at them for shouting and laughing and having a grand time. More than anything, I was envious. If I had enough guts, I would have gone down, introduced myself, and joined the singing/ drinking frenzy. But I am obviously not the type, so I stayed put, turned off the light and tried to go to sleep.

The weird thing was, I soon found myself singing along (although not out loud, of course!) Pathetic as it may seem, I couldn’t help myself! I LOVED the selections! Whatever Magic Sing chip that was (or CD, if they’re using the conventional player), it had all the old and new OPM and cheesy pop songs that I like.

All the friendly derision and laughing and jovial heckling and drunken singing aloud together, mixed with those old late 90s-early 2000 music, brought back fond college memories of good times spent with close friends I haven’t seen in ages. I was hit with a sudden feeling of longing and reminiscence, and realized that I so, so, so miss college. 

Toma Group

Drinking was a staple part of my college life. Thanks (or no thanks) to this group the drinkers in Broad Ass (the college org to which I belonged) informally formed: the Toma Group.

Magtataka ka pa ba kung baket yan ang pangalan? Wala din naman kaming ibang ginawa kung hindi tumoma. At mag-yosi. May paminsang nagju-jutes or hash, pero iyon naman ay isang activity that I never really enjoyed. Not because nagmamaka-stickler for laws lang ako, basta hindi ko gusto ang lasa at hindi ko gusto ang trip.

Ibang klase ang Toma Group. Ibang klase ang bonding noon. Para kaming may inherent understanding na magkatinginan lang, alam na namin kung ano ang gusto naming gawin, sino ang gusto naming makasama, at saan kami pupunta. Kami sa Toma Group ang bumubuo ng mga walang perang miyembro ng Broad Ass (hahaha!), kaya ang naging palaging tambayan ay ang Sarah’s. Kahit kasama namin sa maduming garahe ang mga aso at kung ano-anong insekto sa pag-inom, wala kaming pakialam! It’s the company that’s important. Hindi mo naman sasabihing pare-pareho kami ng wavelength. I could even boldly claim that the Toma Group-ers were a very unlikely mix. But over bottles of Pale Pilsen, Red Horse, or Colt 45, nagkakaintindihan kaming lahat. Quesijodang si Nietzsche o si Erap, o si Professor Varona, si Sharon Cuneta, si Aling Suming, dropping forms, mga subjects na isiningko, ang mga bwiset naming kaklase, mga crush naming taga-ibang org (“Shyet, gwapo sana pero bobo! Ang basa nya sa ‘paradigm’ ay ‘para-di-jim!”), pulitika sa Broad Ass, mga orgmates na hindi present…

May minsanang Truth or Dare. Sige nga, Halikan mo nga si ganito! Sinong type mo sa Broad Ass? Umamin ka: Are you straight? Talagang naging kayo ba ni…? Putangina, kinikilabutan akoooo! Super duper juvenile!

Hindi ko na mabilang kung ilang beses akong nalasing ng sobra-sobra at hindi ko maalala kung paano ako nakauwi. Pero, in fairness to me, kahit kailan ay hindi ako nasuka sa banyo ng Sarah’s. Pero mayroon akong isang kilala na sumuka sa lababo. Pero hindi pa iyon ang pinaka-kadiri. Dahil sa sobrang close namin, may isa kaming kasama na sinalok with her bare hands ang suka sa lababo at inilipat sa inodoro! Eeew! Kilala mo na kung sino ka at sigurado akong di mo makakalimutan ang pangyayaring ito… HAHAHA!

Pag may mga special occasions, lumalabas din kami ng Sarah’s. Maraming inumang ginanap sa kung saan-saang bahay. At dito ang talagang bangenge-an to the maximum level! Ang pinakalasing ako na naaalala ko eh sa graduation party ni Adrian (na isang sikat na reporter na ngayon at may marami pang fans, naks!). Walang katulad naman kasi ang party na yun! Lahat yata ng naimbentong alak eh ininom namin! Beer, iba’t-ibang flavors ng lambanog (pucha, I swear, pagkagraduate ko ng college, the mere sight of lambanog makes me want to vomit!), rhum, brandy… Basta, ang pinakanatatandaan ko lang eh isa-isang binubuhat papasok ng bahay ang mga lasing na lasing na tao. Si Jonella Pacheco, kinakarga na papasok ay sumusuka pa rin. Si Sherlyn lang yata ang sober non at naging tagapangalaga ng lahat ng bangag. Meron pa nga pala kaming pinakaiingatang lihim nung mga panahong iyon na, fortunately, kahit sa kalasingan naming lahat e hindi naman nabunyag. This is an inside joke, pero di ko lang alam kung maaalala pa ng mga attendees ng party yung mock scene ng pagkuha ni Adrian ng diploma na ina-act out ni Rey (with matching camera flashes pa) Hahaha!

Ah, at ang isa pa palang super lasingan eh yung Puerto Azul outing. Isa pa ring classic yun! Kumpleto kami sa toma. Bukod sa hard drinks, umaapaw ang beer non dahil nanlibre si Herbert who had just been named the Collegian Editor-in-Chief that time. More than 20 people ang nandon (we came from the Planning Sem kasi at sumama ang mga then new graduates), pero kahit isa, as in kahit isa sa amin walang nakaisip bumili ng tubig! For more stupidity! Tuloy wala kaming mainom, at tanghali pa lang ay nagsisipag-beer na ang mga tao! Kaya maaga pa lang, halos lahat bangag na. Si Tsok, hindi naman nakakagulat dahil lagi naman syang unang malasing sa lahat. Si Shine ay nagising nung umaga na may malaking drawing na “X” sa noo! At tapos, lahat ng mga nagsitulog sa kwarto ay nagising na may mga souvenir suka sa t-shirt courtesy of… Zip it!

Ilan lang yan sa libo-libong kwento ng mga adventures at misadventures naming nung college. Hay. Sobrang miss na miss na miss ko na ang bonding na ganito…

Pssst, mga ka-toma! Sabi ko naman sa inyo, mag-reunion na tayo sa Sarah’s. Ang dami-daming kwentong ang sarap, sarap, sarap balikan.

There are a multitude of things I long to write about, but I never could seem to find the time or inspiration to do so. Ngayon na lang–bagaman ginagawa ko ito sa oras na hindi ako dapat nagba-blog. Eh pero kasi naman, kelangan ko rin ng break o ako ay magbe-break na from pressure coming from everywhere!

I warn you that this is one incoherent entry. Gusto ko lang magkwento ng kung ano-ano. Gah.

I. Work Rants

The past few weeks have been unbelievably hectic. What, with the company’s new strategy in selling commercial spots to potential advertisers in Japan: Place an ad and WE WILL PRODUCE YOUR COMMERCIAL FOR YOU!

Easy for them in Japan to make such proposition! Sino ba namang kliyente ang tatanggi sa ganong offer? Aba, may primetime ad spot na siya, wala pang middle-man na ahensya, may libreng TVC pa, tipid talaga! At dahil sanay sila sa presyuhan sa Tokyo, talagang parang kay ganda-ganda at kay mura-mura talaga ng package na ino-offer namin! 

It is simple for our Tokyo counterpart kasi wala naman talagang costs for them. Ang kinakainis ko lang ay ang bulk, if not LAHAT ng creative-slash-dirty work ay ginagawa namin dito sa Pilipinas. For the most part, ako lang at yung video editor namin ang tumitira ng mga TVCs na yun. Buti na nga lang at magaling sya dahil he is able to make my storyboards (na dino-drawing ko lang sa newsprint o scratch papers!) come to life. Still, nase-stress ako ng sobra-sobra dahil pigang-piga na ako sa kakaisip ng mga konsepto at taglines. Ang nakakatawa pa ay ako na rin ang nagvo-voiceover! This is the part na pinaka-hindi ko gusto dahil nawi-weirdohan ako sa tunog ng recorded voice ko, lalo pa’t I’ve always held na okay lang for me to do VOs for documentaries or news bits, pero HINDI FOR COMMERCIALS! I sometimes fear that there will come a time na magkaka-tunog na ang lahat ng commercials namin!   

Isa pa palang mahirap is that we do commercials na WALANG SHOOT. Ang hirap mag-imagine na alam mong puro pictures lang ang pwede mong pagalawin. Halos lahat pa ay walang binibigay na pictures, so iniimbento naming halos lahat ng visuals. Waaa. Challenging kung challenging!

Tempted na tuloy akong lumipat sa advertising agencies na kay laki-laki magbayad for copies. Kung iisipin ko, sa dami ng nasulat kong print at TV ad copies for my company now, ang dami-dami ko na sigurong naipon kung rumaraket lang ako. Kaya lang, I’m feeling quite hesitant kasi baka hindi ko magustuhan ang working environment at malagas pati kilay at buhok ko sa ilong sa sobrang kunsumisyon! Bukod pa don, nage-enjoy ako sa trust at creative freedom that I am accorded here–dahil ako lang ang tanging copywriter-slash-director dito. However, I am also aware na maganda rin na may ka-brainstorm ka, may mga magtuturo sa iyo ng mga bagong bagay o mga hindi mo pa alam, how it should be done in a more professional setup… Ganonpaman, meron man akong mga “nice to have,” they’re still not enough to make me want to leave this job and be somewhere else. Di pa ako nasasagad at marami pa akong gustong gawin. So far, I’m very, very happy here, although financially, I know I could be better off. But God is giving me so many blessings, albeit in small portions, pero constant at basta na lang dumadating kahit di ko kinakarir. Kaya I know that He’s telling me na dito muna ako.

Nung Monday, I was tasked by my boss to deliver a speech sa aming morning gathering. May daily morning assembly kasi na ginagawa–dito ina-announce ang top-sellers from the day before saka kung anong percentage na ang naaabot ng sales teams sa mga monthly quotas previously set by top management. May iba’t-ibang speakers din everyday to give foods for thought,mga motivational speeches, words of wisdom… Kadalasan, mga telemarketers ang nagsi-speech, pero minsan, members from the support group (like us from the Marketing Department) are asked to give the pep talk. At nung Monday, ako ang naatasan para mag "Rah-rah" speech.

Ang pinaka-punto ko lang sa sinabi ko ay Attitude of Gratitude. This is one mantra I’ve always strived to live by. I admit marami pa rin akong lapses, pero palagi ko pa ring sinusubukan na magpasalamat sa kahit anong dumating sa buhay ko, even the unfavorable ones.

Maliit ang sweldo, mahirap ang trabaho, nakaka-bad trip ang ilang tao, pero mas marami pa rin akong dapat ipagpasalamat kesa i-angal.

Maliit ang sweldo? Well, it brings food to the table, buys my clothes. It pays the rent and the bills. It helps my parents get by. It sends my brother to school. Small-time is still better than penniless. This is not to say that I will settle with being like this forever, but this job helps me gain momentum that I will need to propel myself to a higher plane.   

Mahirap ang trabaho? The training I get (and am getting) here is incomparable. Everyday, my creativity is challenged. Sometimes, you cannot discover the things you are good at until you are in a situation where you are forced to do things you never thought you could do well. Prior to this job, I’ve always thought my writing skills are limited to essays, magazine articles…but as I look at the commercials we have produced so far, I sit back and tell myself, "Not bad!"  And my bosses and the new clients that keep coming in tell me that this is true. I am the first to critique my own work, but I will give credit where credit is due. Bow. Kaya kahit magkapuyat-puyat ako at duguin sa kakaisip ng bagong treatment, I am still grateful for this chance.

Bad trip ang ilang katrabaho? Sagot ko: Lilipas din yan. We’re all just doing our jobs and irritations here and there can never really be helped, kahit nasaang kumpanya ka man.

II. Hopes for a Lovelife

Mr. James introduced me to this Jason Mraz song, I’m Yours, and I instantly fell in love with it.

Since I heard this song, my staple status message sa Yahoo Messenger is “Love, love, love.” Parang divine encantation

I have been told more than a few friends that they sense that things are likely to change to my liking this year. With all my heart, I hope they are right.

Honestly speaking, I have never been more confident. Malapit na ang panahon na kakanta na rin ako ng, “I won’t hesitate. No more, no more. It cannot wait. This is our fate. I’M YOURS.” 

Could this year finally be the year? Sabi nga ng mga barok, “This is really is it?”

You seem so close, I can almost feel you. 

III. Kwento kay Sherwin

Sa isang linggo ay first day ng kapatid kong si Sherwin bilang 1st year High School. Paminsan, hindi ako makapaniwala na naka-abot na rin sya ng 1st year. Delayed nga lang sya ng 2 years. Medyo challenged kasi ang kapatid kong ito–to this day, I still suspect he has dyslexia, although he is surprisingly able to cope up kahit pakonti-konti bagaman hirap pa rin syang mag-basa. Nag-take nga siya ng remedial classes this summer in preparation for his lessons in highschool. I felt more than a little nostalgic nung tinuturuan ko sya sa Math. Nagkahilo-hilo kaming dalawa sa mga equations (Pasensya ka na, anak, dahil si Ate ay may pagka-boba rin sa Math!). Negative-negative? Positive-negative? Positive-positive? Haluan mo pa ng isang katerbang problem solving chuva, operations at numbers inside brackets at fractions…HAY!

I know that to most, getting to first year highschool is no biggie. But for Sherwin, it is a major feat. When he was young, I kept telling my parents that Sherwin seems to need special education. But they claimed that he probably was just a late bloomer, and insisted on enrolling him in regular schools. What’s even frustrating with these stupid schools is that they kept allowing him to go to the next level even though he was not at all ready for more advanced stuff. In effect, Sherwin always lagged behind in class, failing to cope up with lessons. There were days when Sherwin would come home really sad, then I’d find out later on that classmates were teasing him na “Bobo.” It must have been a terrible time Sherwin went through. Still, he pushed on. What he lacked in reading skills, he made up for in other fields. He used to join singing contests (though he always bungled up the lyrics!). He’s terrific at drawing. He had no formal training whatsoever, but he could draw figures he sees on TV with so much ease.

Year after year, he allowed himself to be subjected to such ordeal (of being “class goat” kung baga sa PMA) with almost no complaint. I knew it was extremely difficult for him, though. I remember this one instance when Sherwin was in Kindergarten or Grade 1, I was reviewing him for some exam. Paulit-ulit kami sa isang lesson na he couldn’t seem to get. I was very frustrated that he couldn’t understand something so simple and began shouting at him. Also very frustrated with himself, he started sobbing. Then he pounded his head with his fist and said, “Hindi na nga kasya dito eh!”

Instantly sorry for what I said, I embraced him and tried to soothe him and told him it’s okay. I was so ashamed of myself for what I did. What was I thinking? Instead of helping, I even made this kid feel worse when he himself could not understand what was wrong with him? I cried, too and apologized profusely.

Like any kid, easy to bounce back, quick to forgive and forget, Sherwin stopped crying a few minutes after. He wiped his tear-streaked face and looked at me. He smiled and said, “Ate, iiyak tayong dalawa, ‘no?”

Several years after, Sherwin finally got his elementary diploma and is about to start his freshman year in higshcool. I couldn’t help but get teary-eyed and nostalgic whenever I remember the odds he bravely faced to get himself to where he is now.

In his graduation picture that he gave to me, he wrote, “You are the best Ate in the world.”

Sherwin who used to struggle with reading and writing, jotted down the most touching words a sister would always want to see: “You are the best Ate in the world.”

Right now it’s the only note I keep in my wallet.

IV. Baby Names

Ang tawag ko kay Sherwin, kahit ngayon na 14 years old na siya ay Pancho. Nag-evolve na lang ito mula sa di ko na mabilang na nicknames na nai-binyag ko sa kanya mula nung baby sya. Mula sa Sherwindodo, Undo, Tabatchoy, Batchoy, Baby Boy Tabatchoy, Panget-batchoy-baho (all said in one breath!), hanggang sa hindi ko na maintindihan kung pano nauwi sa "Pancho."

Ang mga Tito at Tita ko sa mother side ay "Becky" ang tawag sa akin. Nagmula lang yun sa isang Purefoods Meatloaf TV commercial na may baboy at baka na naglalambutsingan (Beef and Pork meatloaf) na sina "Bobby" at "Becky". At dahil kay taba-taba kong bata, nabansagan na akong "Becky"at nag-stick na ito hanggang sa ako’y lumaki.

Sa Father side naman, may Ninang ako na ang tawag sa akin ay "Chikiche." Nung maliit pa ako, ang tawag sa akin ni Daddy ay "Sungkong." Ito ay diminutive ng original nickname nya sa akin na "Sungkunaong" na hindi ko maintindihan sa kanya kung saan nanggaling. Wala naman syang mga kaibigang Thai na maaaring pinagkuhanan niya nito… Ang tawag naman niya sa Ate ko noon ay si "Koo-koo," mula sa original na "Koo-koo Memen. " Ewan ko ba kay Daddy! Okay lang kasi ngayon naman ay di na rin "Daddy" ang tawag namin sa kanya, kundi "Botchok." Hahaha.

Raz used to call me "Chenelyn Potpot" nung college, pero lagi ako naiiinis at nasasabi ng, "Talagang may ‘Potpot’ pa!" kaya ngayon hindi na. Madaya ako kasi ang tawag ko sa isa kong kabarkada na si Tina ay "Potpot" din. Si Tinapotpot Danila. Hehehe.

Dito sa opisina, ang tawag naman sa akin ay "Checheboobear." Minsan binabago ito ng maloko kong boss na si Mommy Mahlu at ginagawang, "Cheche-boobsie." Ang Checheboobear ay na-coin ni Herbert "Pervieboobear" Docena, who I used to lovingly call, “Herbert the Pervert”.

HAHAHA. Sinabi ko naman sa inyo na labo-labo ang entry na ito, di ba? J