When's My Birthday?

This is the one I liked most from last week's batch of Post Secret postcards.

I remember feeling like this at one point in time. That feeling’s common with people who celebrate their birthdays in December. Either people remember your birthday more, or they’re more prone to forgetting. Even for someone like me who anchors his birthday on a widely celebrated event (when asked, I always say my birthday’s on the first day of Misa de Gallo/midnight masses).

The closer it is to the 25th, the more they tend to forget. I can just imagine how Rey, a friend of mine born on Christmas day itself, must sometimes feel. I remember his holiday text a few Christmases back: “Let’s not forget the reason for the season,” pertaining to himself. I‘m sure he doesn’t always sound that jovial come Christmas time. Wait, that day’s also his birthday. I forgot.

Not that I take it against my friends. It’s just that when your special day is eclipsed by the Savior’s, one can’t help but feel a little peeved sometimes. When I was a kid, it was mostly about the injustice of getting one gift instead of two. Kids are supposed to get birthday and Christmas gifts. Those are two distinct occasions and little boys must never be made to suffer the cruelty of getting bundled 2-in-1 gifts.

I’ve long gotten past that. But I still find myself sulking when people forget about my birthday.

Just last December, my Mom and her entire posse from home were all over my Tierra Pura house rushing last minute preparations for our housewarming party (which was to be held a day after my birthday). An hour or two before my birthday, I decided to meet up with a friend to count down and welcome my birthday. It was a simple nightcap. I just didn’t want to stay cooped up in the house as I embraced my 26th year on earth. I felt like it was a milestone, and should be treated like one.

At around 2AM, I drove back home. My mom and her entourage were just finishing up. When they saw me come in, they said they were just waiting for me before going back home to Muntinlupa. They packed up, said their goodbyes, and left. None of them remembering to greet me.

It’s not really as melodramatic as it sounds. A few hours after, before lunch, they came back. My aunt rudely drew me out from slumber by screaming “Happy Birthday!” (which is every bit as bad as being doused by cold water while sleeping). So you see they didn’t really forget, but I still felt a little neglected the night before. Imagine how one must feel if his birthday comes as an afterthought to holiday resolutions of completing the midnight masses.

Of course, I submit we yuletide babies don’t have the monopoly of this predicament. I’m sure those born on New Year’s Day, Independence Day, or Valentine’s have felt the same way at one time or another. It embarrasses me to admit I’ve bouts of egotism, but we’re all entitled to it. That’s why I always make it a point to greet people on their birthdays, even belatedly.

Everyday is a celebration. Someone is bound to lay claim over even the most inconsequential day of the year. That has yet to account for the different kinds of anniversaries and ceremonial “firsts” of our lives. Now, I make it a habit to note down every event. You’ll never know when you would need to be reminded of occasions that at particular moments seem trivial, only to realize months after that around it revolved a significant occasion for someone.

****
In aid of that new resolution, I blew thousands of bucks on those damn iced crème brulee lattes and successfully completed that Starbucks Coffee 2006 planner stamp card. I collected my reward last week (no sweat broken since I have a daily fix of it anyway). I’ve yet to fill the planner up, but having the notebook makes me glad it’s going to be easier remembering everyone’s birthday, as I hope people would remember mine.

A Quarter Full

A year ago, I wrote this for an exercise in the scriptwriting workshop Star Cinema conducted. As co-facilitators, we were encouraged to participate. We were simply asked to write about what we're feeling, or to write about a time when we felt a particularly strong emotion.

Back then, this was me. A month short of the expriration of my contract with Star. A few weeks shy of my 25th birthday. Back then, the most interesting thing that I could say about myself (when asked for an introduction), was that I left law school to pursue a career in film. I was trying to make myself more passionate and courageous in a desperate attempt to prove I had character and could amount to something.

That was more than a year ago. Now, I'm still in Star Cinema. Still struggling to pursue a career in film. Still no script credited under my name. I'm tempted to say nothing's changed, and the worst part of that is I'd be telling the hard truth. Especially when I turn my head and see how my close friends have leap-frogged in their careers and are now boasting of fat salaries, promotions, and, heck, even love lives. The sad truth is the intangibles rarely count nowadays.

But I won't say that. Lots of things have changed. I've grown a lot, despite appearances. It's funny cause I can tell how badly I wanted to sound optimistic in what I wrote down there - and how I still came off sounding miserable. Reading this piece and seeing how different I feel now despite the seeming stagnation of my career proves all the more that it's all a matter of perspective. It proves once again that writing can indeed do wonders for one's growth.

Weather-weather lang yan... And I feel the storm has passed.

*****

A QUARTER FULL
7 November 2004

I am overwhelmed by a feeling that things can be better.

A few months back, I owned up to a premature Quarter-Life Crisis. Premature only because I was a year and a few months ahead (I was 23 then). Now, I realize I might have spoken too soon. Either I was misled into thinking that already WAS it, or the depression I'm in right now is just part and parcel of a protracted suffering many have recognized as intrinsic to one's passage to adulthood.

There is an email that speaks of this. The Quarter-Life Crisis – the restlessness, the sense of displacement, the fear of stagnation, the uncertainty of everything.

I remember first reading about it when I was still in college. Back then, I was just amused that the Gen X-ers have found a counterpart for the pentagenarian affliction. Years after, a close friend of mine sent the same email to all her twenty-something friends, including myself. The second time around, I read it with an eerie sense of tangibility. I thought, it must truly speak of a universal truth for not only am I able to relate to the article, my past encounter with it was proof of its application to those who came before me. It offered little comfort, but at the time, it was enough.

I'm now a month and a week away from being a quarter of a century old, and the restlessness remains. While the article was accurate in finding the words for what most people my age are feeling, stating the fact that there are others who suffer the same misery still fails to account for the feeling of desperation. The feeling of loneliness continues to overwhelm me. In the end, all it succeeds to do is to prove how desolate the world has become. At the end of the day, you have but your shadow to keep you company at the crossroads.

As I write this, I start feeling bad that I chose a dispiriting topic to write about. I was asked to write about a pivotal part of my life – and I chose to write of here and now, not necessarily the lowest I’ve sunk for it to constitute a cinematic enough conflict, rather a boring testimony of ennui. I know I’m capable of more optimism. I fancy myself good at providing clarity and direction to those who need it. The process is painful. More so when you’ve no one to turn to when in need of it yourself. While some mistake it for masochism, wallowing in all that despair, I dare say it’s the best form of self-preservation. I guess I needed to purge myself of the bleakness if I’m to write about sunnier things.

Looking inwards, I’m met by a disturbing emptiness. Twenty-five years old and with very little to show for it. Like I’m 75% void, 25% uncertainty.

But if half a loaf’s better than no bread, I guess a quarter full’s not bad.

You Are No Different

As I waited for the valet after watching “Rumor Has It” in Eastwood last Friday (loved the film!), I heard a group of college kids engaged in a fun conversation while waiting for their own ride.

They spoke in a manner that brandished their privileged status in life – as in bawal ang Tagalog. And for a moment there, I thought I was still listening to those Hollywood actors. Swabe ng mga accent. I got irked. I could tell my friend thought the same way. It struck me like they were trying to sound that way ‘on purpose.’ In-eeffort!

I tried hard not to look at them condescendingly, to take the high road and ignore them. But I couldn’t help but think how they are really no different from those people who engage in gay-speak (swardspeak, ayon nga sa Manila By Night). Ang pagkakaiba lang, imbis na ‘chuva’ at ‘chorva’ at ‘itechi-mae’ (I have to thank Forsyth for these), their sentences were peppered with ‘guys,’ ‘dude,’ and ‘man.’ I found it funny that for all the effort they exert in distinguishing themselves, they ended up looking exactly like the people I’m sure they’d least want to be associated with. I had this urge to come up to them and say, “Alam nyo, you’re no different."

That made stop and think.

In my head, I couldn’t make a distinction between those two groups. None the worse.

So what is it about them that pissed me off? It wasn’t that they’re speaking in a jacked up volume like they’re the only ones there, unmindful if other people were grudgingly drawn into their conversations by becoming forced eavesdroppers. That couldn’t have been the reason because God knows we’ve been that group of people to others. I’m sure, at one time or another, I’ve been that person whose laughter was ringing high above everyone else’s voice in Coffee Bean. Hindi rin naman dahil sa nag-iingles sila. E ako rin naman e. Di rin dahil nag-ta-Taglish sila. Hello, me ren kaya!

I realized it was simply the fact that they spoke differently from me. Kung jologs yung mga yon, na nagkakantsawan at nag-iinglisan na mali naman ang bigkas, I’d just be as pissed. I started chanting “You’re no different” silently, calmly, in my head. But this time, to myself. Amazingly, it helped
So there, since it’s almost the new year of the fire dog, and we should always resolve to become better people, I’m adapting that new mantra.

“I’m no different… I’m no different… I’m no different.” It’s a matter of perspective. To others, I’m just as jologs, as coño, as nauseating as they are to me.

****

On another note…

I’m pasting, as post script to the preceding rumination, this remotely connected set of lyrics a friend of mine asked me to write. Now this was really weird. I mean, having to write the song that follows below. But it was fun doing it!

(Kunwari pa ko e. Yung sa taas, pilít na lead-in ko lang yon para ma-justify ang pag-post ko ng aking first novelty composition, hehehe...)

It’s prolly not gonna be produced anyway, so it might as well have its world debut online. It deserves that, at least!

CERTIFIED JOLOG

Sa bawat taong masasalubong
Di kailang sa iba’y maiilang
Dun sa kung maglakad, noo’y angat
Kahit damit ay kupas, ilong ay sarat

Sa bawat taong masasalubong
Di kailang sa kanila’y iilan
Kakatawa man ang kilos, di nalalaos
Walang kiyeme sa pagiging tameme


CHORUS:
Sa lahat ng ito, sabay sabay tumango
Walang sosy at hindi, sa taong totoo
Mukha mang sabog, isigaw sa utaw
Certified jolog, ihiyaw, ihiyaw!


Kilala ang sarili at di nagsisisi
Ngiti’y abot-tenga kahit bulsa’y sinulsi
Sabihan mang baduy, salat sa pera
Di uubrahan, tatawanan ang problema

Lalong walastik tayong hindi plastik
Walang nila-“lang,” hindi naiilang
Pagkat iba pa rin ang walang ere sa sarili
Maging masaya sa pagiging simple


CHORUS:
May katok man ay patok, barat man ay angat
Ingiti mo na lang, sabihin sa lahat
Hitsura at tunog, galaw, pananaw
Certified jolog, ihiyaw, ihiyaw!

Pakatotoo, itaas ang noo
Walang dapat ikahiya ang taong totoo
Basta’t Pinoy, galaw, pananaw
Certified jolog, ihiyaw, ihiyaw!

Basta’t Pinoy, galaw, pananaw
Certified jolog, ihiyaw, ihiyaw!

CODA:
Basta’t Pinoy, galaw, pananaw
Walang kakabog, (UNDENIABLE!)
di malalamog (CERTIFIABLE!)
Certified jologs,
Isigaw, isigaw!

***

I can just tell. This is the next Ocho-Ocho!

Batang Bata Ka Pa

[Eh Kasi Bata Part Two]

I don’t think the buck stops here. A third installment might be in the offing. But I’m seriously thinking about that pa… I need to save me some dignity rin naman!

Sayang wala akong Eh Kasi Bata mp3 to play as I write this, kaya si Buboy Garrovillo na lang pinakanta ko. (Ganyan talaga ang buhay…)

1. I used to bed wet, and it was really embarrassing. The only good thing that came out of it was that I was left alone to sleep on my bed. Yung mga pinsan ko, pinapatulog sa banig pag nag-slee-sleep over sa amin. Di bale na sa kanila ang matigas ang higaan, wag ko lang maihian.
   
   
2. My grandparents, who were farmers, were so poor that our barong-barong in the province didn’t have a decent bathroom. The dark ‘batalan’ appendaged to the back of our kubo was also the kitchen, bath, and toilet. In fact, for their young apos like us, the toilet consisted of a strip of newspaper laid out on the bamboo slats. After relieving ourselves, tinutupi lang ni Nanay Tidad (lola ko) yung newspaper at iniitcha yon sa gubat sa likod nung dampa namin. It was pitiful, but we survived! Eventually, napagawan na ng mga kamag-anak namin ng sementadong banyo yung bahay nina lolo’t lola.
   
   
3. My relatives and I used to go to Antipolo to go to church there. Pag-uwi, lagi kaming bumibili ng cashew nuts. In one instance, na-pilit ko parents ko na bumili ng myna bird. Promise kasi nung tindero, kaya raw itong maturuan magsalita.
   
   I immediately felt like he was going to be my favorite pet dahil siya lang ang eventually e makakasagot sa akin pag kinausap ko. Excited at the prospect, di ko tinantanan sa speech lessons yung ibon. Di naman natuto-tuto. By the time I gave up, past midnight na. I decided to give it a rest. Because we also owned a cat, natakot akong baka kainin siya ng pusa while we were sleeping. So I hung the myna’s cage sa may bubong. Wala namang ready hook doon, kaya isinabit ko na lang siya sa may bumbilya.
   
   The next morning, patay na yung myna. Ginawa kong escape goat yung pusa namin, pero I suspected na sa scorching heat ng incandescent bulb namatay yung kawawang ibon.
   
   
4. I was a godfather as young as 3 years old. Kaya yung pinsan kong si JR, instead of Kuya, Ninong Raz ang tawag sa kin. At dahil politician pa si Daddy noon, pag nakuha na siya na ninong sa kasal o sa binyag ng panganay, ako na yung sunod na kinukuha. No wonder di ko na mabilang at makilala ang lahat ng inaanak ko ngayon. I wouldn’t be surprised if may 50+ na sila.
   
   
5. Monthly treat sa bahay namin ang “Flavor of the Month” ng Magnolia. Tanda ko pa na buwan buwan ay may bagong commercial ang Magnolia, its theme in keeping with the new flavor. Seeing those TV ads air was my cue to pester my dad about the much-coveted indulgence. I still remember riding my bike para pumunta sa ‘bakery,’ ang tanging tindahan na nag-bebenta ng ice cream within the village.
   
   
6. Wednesday evening was Wrestling Night. During summer, we’d stay up late till 11PM to watch Hulk Hogan, the Ultimate Warrior, The Undertaker, Andre the Giant, Bret “The Hitman” Hart, the Bushwackers and other wrestling greats. Dito nagsimula ang obsession naming magpipinsan sa tag-team wrestling games namin. JR and I were the Rockers. Ako si Shawn Michaels at sya si Marty Jannetty!
   
   One Wednesday, sa sobrang obsession namin sa panonood, di namin pinansin yung narinig naming kalampag sa tagiliran ng bahay namin. The next day, nalaman namin na nanakaw na pala from under our nose yung tatlong case ng beer na dapat e handa ng daddy ko para sa isang party.
   
   
7. “Bahay Sa Balete” in “Big Bang Sa Alabang” is still the best theme park haunted house I’ve ever been to. I still remember how authentic the experience was, and how I dreaded the thought of having to exit through the “Labasan Ng Mga Duwag.”
   
   
8. I truly believed that inside radio sets lived little people, at sila ang naririnig nating kumakanta, nag-da-drama, at nag-kokomentaryo araw-araw.
   
   
9. Sa lumang school ko, I first encountered the word GIRAFFE. Dahil mukhang magkakambal ang mga letrang F at E, ang g-i-r-a-f-f-e, ay nagmukhang g-i-r-a-f-E-E sa aking mga mata. Basta alam ko may dobleng letra, kaya na-confuse ko ang double F with double E.
   
   Kaya naman pag-lipat ko sa Zobel, ang giraffe ay pino-pronounce kong ji-ra-FEE.
   
   
10. Brother Felix from Zobel (wonder where he is now?) was the first person to ever call me Razmatazz. He’s also one of the kindest, funnest, warmest men I’ve ever known.
    
    
11. Crush ko dati yung president ng Grade 2 class namin. Ang ganda na niya, ang talino pa, magaling pa mag-drawing. As president, syempre siya ang model student. Siya rin ang inaatasang magsulat ng Noisy at Standing sa blackboard pag walang teacher. Pag nalista ka don, di naman forever. Pag natahimik ka kase, o pag umupo ka na, binubura na.
    
    Alam ko naman na may pagka-makulit at malikot ako pag minsan. Pero nung isang beses, nilingon ko lang yung classmate kong si Stanley para bayaran yung utang kong piso sa kanya, isinulat ba naman ako ni Miss President sa “Noisy.” Feeling ko unfair, pero nagpaka-behave ako. As in di na ko kumibo after. Nakakainis dahil unti-unti nang nabura lahat ng pangalan sa Noisy at Standing, di pa rin binubura yung pangalan ko. Nang dumating tuloy si Mrs. Coronel, yung adviser namin, name ko na lang ang nasa listahan.
    
    Dun nawala ang paghanga ko sa class president namin.
    
    
12. Na-rerealize ko ngayon kung gano ka-materyoso yung culture namin sa Zobel. Every Wednesday kase, Mission Collection – which is like the offertory part of the mass kung kailan nag-iikot ang mga manang collecting money from the parishioners. E hello, estudyante pa lang kaya kame, living off on P20 allowances. But no, madalas, nagpapagalingan talaga ang lahat. Palakihan ng kontribusyon. Yung nasa unahan ng row, i-no-note kung magkano ang inihulog mo dun sa brown wooden box. At di lang yon, if pinakamalaki yung contribusyon mo, you are named Most Generous, and it is written on the blackboard – “SAVE!” for one week.
    
    
13. I still consider watching how Kris Aquino fell from the risers of GMA Supershow while singing the Pido Dida theme song with the late Rene Requiestas as one of the greatest TV privileges of my life.
    
    
14. Nagkaron ako ng sobrang cute na aso na pinangalanan naming Fluffy. Its fur was as soft as cotton and even though askal lang siya, he was as cute as a button. I loved him so much na nagpakuha ako ng picture with him, hoping to have it framed. Pero bago pa madevelop yung picture, namatay na siya. Saka lang sinabi sa kin ng mga kamag-anak ko yung pamahiin na masama daw kunan ng litrato ang aso dahil namamatay. Ewan kung imbento lang nila yon, pero sineryoso ko siya. Ilang gabi rin akong umiyak dahil sa guilt sa pagpatay kay Fluffy.
    
15. Aside from the myna, and Fluffy, and countless other dogs, nagkaron rin ako ng pusa, dagang costa, love birds, at rabbit, na namatay sa lamig nang iwan ko siya para matulog sa labas ng kwarto ko. Obviously, di okay ang track record ko with pets as a kid.
    
    
16. Nauso nung grade school yung Cops And Robbers. Ang saya cause there were days all of the boys in our class would be playing during recess or lunch. Sometimes, it’ll be our class against another section. Special sa ken yung mga yon dahil mabilis ako tumakbo. So even if I’m always the smallest in class, I earned the respect of my classmates.
    
    
17. Naging paborito kong prutas for a time yung avocado. Kasi, rare at violet, tapos green ang loob, at ang sarap pag ginawang shake! In hopes of beating the dictates of nature, my cousins and I took the humongous seed that our helper has thrown into the trash, and decided to plant our own avocado tree so we can have our avocado fix anytime of the year. We picked the perfect spot sa tagiliran ng bahay namin at binakuran pa ng walis-tingting at kawayan, para i-ensure ang bright future ng bago naming pet tree.
    
    The next day, nang bisitahin namin para tingnan kung may tumubo na (we were impatient), sa halip na seedling ay isang tumpok ng dog poop sa nakasalampak sa gitna ng fence na ginawa namin ang aming dinatnan. Naisip namin, siguro dahil pinulot lang namin sa basura yung buto ng avocado at madumi na, hindi na gumagana. Pero ang lalong di ko maintindihan e kung pano pa nakuhang i-sakto ni Reagan (ang aming beloved askal) yung poopoo niya sa gitna ng maliit na make-shift fence na yon.
    
    
18. I used to want all the toys that were being featured in Uncle Bob’s Lucky Seven Club, lalo na yung mga action figures. E dahil struggling couple making ends meet ang magulang ko, di naman ako nabibilhan. Ang nag-iisang pag-aari ko e “Rey Stantz” action figure na pinaglumaan ng kaibigan ko at na-arbor ko lang. I had to content myself with the cheap toys na kasama sa Jolly Meals… kaya kung ano-anong porma na ni Jollibee, Hetty Spaghetti, Mr. Yum at Popo ang nakolekta ko. May pantasa, pambura, pang-decorate sa dulo ng ballpen at kung anu-ano pa.
    
    Pag tumingin ka noon sa estante ng mga laruan ko, on opposing sides were the forces of good and evil. Sa right, Rey Stantz is joined by a very old Spiderman doll (as in doll – it was filled with cotton), a Batman plastic figure na nabili ko ng 20 pesos sa piyesta (unlike the former, hangin lang ang laman nito at nayuyupi siya pag naupuan), at isang defective RC na ang remote control ay nakakakabit pa sa kotse sa pamamagitan ng maikling kable.
    
    Kaharap nila sa left side ang aking designated villains, ang hebigats na tropa nina Jollibee.
    
    
19. Nang una kaming magka-kotse, sa sobrang proud ko, naging libangan ko ang maglaro sa loob non. Kala mo naman ang laki ng corolla. Minsan, para lang maiba, ang nagiging objective ko e ang manatili sa trunk at i-imagine kung anong gagawin ko pag nakulong ako dito. Like that was actually a possibility.
    
    
20. In and out ako sa ospital as a kid. Bukod sa asthma, may seafood allergies pa ko. Nung isang beses, ni-rush ako sa hospital ng Tita ko who was my guardian because I felt this terrible pain at my side. I was told that I needed to undergo an appendectomy. In preparation, I was not allowed to eat for a day. Dahil makulit ako, I’d secretly eat crackers when no one was looking. Syempre, nabuking, so na-reset yung one day fasting ko.
    
    The hour before I was scheduled for operation, dumating na finally yung Dad ko. He got into a heated argument with the doctor. Pagbalik niya sa bed ko, may kasama nang nurse si Daddy at pinagtatanggal na dextrose ko. Di na daw kailangan yung operation.
    
    Sana sa simula pa lang nakipag-away na yung tatay ko. May tatlong araw akong naduling sa gutom para sa wala.
    
    
21. There was a time when it wasn’t abnormal for me and my family to enter the movie house in the middle of a film. Kung sa bagay, Horsy-Horsy Tigidig-tigidig at Wake Up Little Susie lang naman ang mga pinapanood namin. Actually, naglalaro lang naman kaming mga bata sa sinehan e. More than the film, ang inaabangan namin ng mga pinsan ko e yung panahon before the movie starts, when the house lights were on. My cousins and I would be playing dun sa may ledge right below the giant screen of the Alabang Twin Cinemas. Nagpapadulas kame to our hearts’ delight until the movie was about to start.
    
    
22. Ang first exposure ko sa media ay nung Grade 5 ata ako. We were shopping sa Alabang Town Center at nagkataong may FM radio station na nag-la-live broadcast doon. Part nung program nila ang maglibot ng mga shops to find people who bought something from any of the shops there. Those chosen were brought to the DJ’s booth and were interviewed on air. May gift checks pa na premyo.
    
    My Tita and I were in Osh’Kosh B’Gosh kasi bibilhan niya yata yung babae niyang inaanak ng sweater. Napili kaming manalo and I was interviewed on air. They asked my name and where I lived and I replied naman. Booming all over the mall pa yung boses ko dahil sa higanteng speakers. “Do you always shop there?” daw. Pabibong “Yes!” naman ang sagot ko. Okay na sana kaso pinabuksan yung shopping bag, at nakita tuloy nila ang purple at pink striped-furry sweater na binili ng Tita ko, na palagay ko e inakala nilang akin. Buti di balahura yung DJ, nag-walang kibo na lang.
    
    Pag-uwi ko sa bahay, tinawagan pa ko ni Ronald (Alejandro). We were neither in the same class nor in speaking terms at that time, but he called to tell me that he heard me on the radio. O di ba, sikat pa rin!
    
    
23. When we advanced to Grade 5, we really felt like we’ve grown. First time kase na nasa second floor na yung classrooms namin. That really made an impact on me. Much more so because one recess, while a sea of Grade 5 pupils were rushing down out of the main building, I tripped and fell head-first down the stairs. It felt like in a second, nasa first landing na ko.
    
    I don’t remember feeling hurt, but I remember pretending I was unconscious out of humiliation. Ang mababait ko namang batchmates, tulong tulong akong kinarga papunta sa clinic, kung saan naghimatay-himatayan ako till recess was over.
    
    
24. May ilang beses during grade school when our school service will either leave me behind or forget I was riding with them. Dahil wala naman akong pera at di marunong mag-commute, I end up walking from Zobel hanggang sa labasan ng Ayala Alabang. At di biro yon sa isang payatot na tulad ko. Una, mainit ang araw. Pangalawa, talagang malayo siya. Minsan nga, habang naglalakad, iniiyak ko na lang e…
    
    
25. My first brush with ‘death’ was in Grade School.
    
    On Fridays, yung driver and conductors ng school service namin would pick us up from Zobel an hour before dismissal so they can play basketball at the court beside our school. One time, our school club dismissed us early, so I was able to hang out and watch them play.
    
    In the middle of the game, bumagsak na lang bigla yung driver namin. Inatake sa puso. Buti na lang, marunong ring mag-drive yung isang konduktor. Tulong tulong naming dinala sa likod ng fiera yung body ng driver namin (he was overweight). He was flopped on to the floor of the school service, at dahil kaskas sa pagmamaneho yung conductor, our driver’s body was rolling side to side, at ako lang yung nasa likod para magbantay. I was scared witless, I couldn’t even keep a hold on his body to keep it from rolling all over.
    
    We got to the hospital, but he still died eventually.
    
    
26. Grade 5 ulit. After mag-“may I go out,” I was running down the hallway back to my class. You remember back then how after being stuck in a boring classroom the whole afternoon, a quick break to the comfort room felt ever so liberating? Well, ako, tumatalon at kumakandirit pa ko sa empty hallway pabalik sa room. Ganon ako kasayang makalabas ng classroom.
    
    I was delayed when the door to the classroom beside ours swung outward unexpectedly, stopping a speeding little Raz dead on his tracks. The guy who opened that door really thought I was dead, cause I was knocked down. Akala ko noon artistic license lang yung stars na nakikita ng cartoon characters pag nauuntog o nababangga. Totoo pala. Nandilim ang paningin ko at lumutang ako with stars for a few seconds.
    
    Napahaba tuloy ang bathroom break ko dahil pinadiretso ako nung teacher sa isang classroom sa clinic. Pag balik ko sa classroom namin, pinagalitan ako ng Christian Living teacher namin dahil ang tagal ko daw nawala. Saka lang niya napansin ang little mole hill of a bukol throbbing on my forehead. But no! That elicited no compassion. The rest of the period was used para pangaralan ang klase, gamit ako bilang masamang ehemplo.
    
    
27. When my dad first ran for mayor sa liblib na probinsya namin sa Cavinti, Laguna, his advisers thought it would be cute to have me deliver a speech in his baranggay ‘pa-meetings,’ being his only child and all. Syempre, walang say ang musmos na katulad ko, kaya pinapag-memorize ako ng talumpating paulit-ulit kong dineliver sa 10 of the 19 baranggays, including the grand Miting de Avance.
    
    Ewan ko ba sa mga yon, akala siguro mas impressive. Ang pinamemorize sa akin, English speech. Syempre, probinsyano mga tagapakinig namin. Karamihan magsasaka… Tuloy, para kong nakikipag-usap sa kawalan. Pumapapalakpak lang sila pag nag-bow na ko. Ganon pa man, I was always congratulated and praised afterwards. Isang beses, pagbaba ko ng stage, may nadaaanan akong dalawang matanda. Panay ang palakpak, at naulinigan ko, tuwang-tuwa sa kin.
    
    Lola 1: “Ang galing ano?”
    
    Lola 2: “Ano bang sinabi?”
    
    Lola 1: “Aywan ko.”
    
    
28. During the English Week when we were in Grade 7, nagkaron ng inter-class speech choir competition. Eto yung tipong contest kung saan may certain blocking at choreography ang buong class habang sabay-sabay na nag-dedeliver ng piyesa. E dahil maliit, nasa front row ako lagi. Which I thought was one of the few perks of being my height (kesa naman matangkad na laging nalulugar sa likod ng stage).
    
    Seryoso naman yung piyesa ng class namin, pero at one point, naghalakhakan ang audience. Dun kase sa isang part kung saan ang kaliwang kamay namin ay dapat nasa kanang dibdib, nag-mala-“Lupang Hinirang” ako at nabaligtad ko ang choreo. E ako ang katangi-tanging nagkamali, at dahil nasa harap, hindi maipagkakaila.
    
    
29. For little boys, aminin man nila o hindi, sobrang nakakatakot ang idea ng pagpapatuli. Palagay ko nga, more than the ritual, kaya naging ‘passage to manhood’ ang circumcision ay dahil sa takot na kinakailangan mong lunukin para harapin yung arburlaryo o doctor. Mine was extra traumatic.
    
    Mine was done in a hospital. After proving my courage on the operating table, I was asked to go back every couple of days so they can change the dressing of my little weener. On one of those visits, di available yung doctor ko. So clueless akong naghihintay sa gitna ng emergency room kung saan sinisingit lang naman nila yung minor concerns na katulad ng sa kin. Biglang may nagmalasakit ng doctor na tinanong ako kung anong hinihintay ko. Sabi ko, change dressing lang. May isang female nurse na nakarinig at naaliw. Di pa daw siya nakakakita ng procedure na yon. Yung ibang female nurse na nakatambay, na-interes na rin. They all giggled in excitement and flocked towards me, at ang accommodating doctor na nag-attend sa kin, inialay naman ako for their enjoyment. So he asked me to loosen my puruntong shorts and stretched its garter outward.
    
    Para tuloy akong featured freak show sa emergency room as those nurses huddled in a circle in front me, stooped down, all looking intently at my crotch. Feeling objectified, napapikit at napatingala na lang ako. Pakiramdam ko ang dumi-dumi ko…
    
    
30. I was sick the day they announced the schedule of our Grade School yearbook pictorial. On the day they were taking my picture, wala tuloy akong sarili kong long sleeves at neck tie. Good thing the photographers anticipated times like this and brought their own long sleeves. Yun nga lang, dahil maliit ako, oversized yung long sleeves sa kin. Namamaga pa yung mukha ko dahil galing sa sakit. At dahil basta-basta rin lang naman ang pag-me-make-up nila sa amin, isang lipstick lang ang gamit nila para sa lahat. Walang pakialam kahit na ang complexion ko ay para bang ikinula sa ilalim ng araw. Yung mga labi ko e mas mapula pa sa Washington apples. The photo that came out was beyond words. I swear, para kong dwende. Daig pa yung nasa ceramic miniatures sa hardin nyo.
    
    Di na nakarating yung yearbook at yung prints ng litrato sa mga magulang ko. Itinapon ko na siya sa school pa lang. Sinunog ko pa ata yung pictures.

This is strangely therapeutic… Writing it down is acknowledging it. It ends years of pretending those things never happened.

And I thought I didn’t have embarrassing moments to take to the grave. I had a wealth that I figured it wouldn’t hurt to unload some if off. Dear God, sana lang that doesn’t mean I’m freeing up space for more!

Eh Kasi Bata

Tandang-tanda ko pa nung maliit pa ako...

As per Che’s initiation, I am listing down some of the most memorable incidents in my childhood… Sabi ko nga ke Che, baka di ko mabigyan ng justice, kailangan kasi nito ng gestures at reenactments, as I’d like to think I’m better when speaking than writing. Siguro naman okay lang, paunang subok pa lang naman:

1. Nung Kinder sa Holy Child Montessori School, para kang hari pag birthday mo. As in literally. Ginagawan pa kami ng crown kung saan nakasulat ang pangalan namin. We all looked forward to that day when we got to experience royalty.
   
   Pero syempre, as part of our values formation, may kaakibat na responsibilidad ang koronang yon. The celebrant had to serve all his classmates’ lunch, as in get it from the kitchen and serve it on their tables.
   
   Sa sobrang excitement ko, unang plato ko pa lang na iseserve, nadapa na ko. Natural, tumilapon sa damit ko yung sopas at minatamis na saging. Basa na ko, basa pa korona ko.
   
   
2. Nung graduation ko sa Prep, we were given our medals/ribbons sa gitna ng stage. Our parents were supposed to go up and get it from us, then pin it on our clothes. Ako, pa-bida. Pag-kakuha ko ng medalya, I went back to my seat and pinned it on myself. Di umubra, kaya pinabalik ulit ako sa gitna where my dad was waiting for me.
   
   
3. Isa sa paborito kong anecdotes from my childhood, according to my Tito’s and Tita’s, ay kung paano ko napasuko ang aking first and only tutor. Isang araw lang siya. Kasi daw, everytime na may tinuturo sa kin, I’d always say alam ko na yan. Feeling ko tuloy sobrang prodigy ako.
   
   
4. One of our favorite pastimes during summer was to collect aratiles (aka governor’s plum, thanks Miss Rodriguez) from the tree sa likod ng bahay namin. As in na-expert ko na ang pag-akyat. After collecting a small bucket of those little fruits, we keep it sa freezer overnight and feast on it the next day.
   
   
5. Madalas mag-baha sa kahabaan ng kalye namin sa Chrysanthemum Village, sa Pacita Complex. Pag-tag-ulan tuloy, we didn’t have to go to Los Baños to swim. As in we swam sa mala-chokolateng tubig kanal na nasa tapat ng bahay namin. I cringe at the thought now, but I have to admit, those were the best rainy days of my life!
   
   
6. Aside from the staple games of patintero, tumbang preso, Pepsi-7-Up, football, at piko, nawili kami sa pag-bisita sa bagong gawang play ground sa tapat ng simbahan. Ang paborito ko pa nga don e yung monkey bars, where we used to play “gagamba.” Two players from both ends will start swinging from bar to bar until they meet in the middle and battle it out using their legs. The last kid hanging is declared the winner. Needless to say, I was a hall of famer.
   
   
7. Nang grade 1 ako, assignment namin ang i-drawing sa textbook ang iba’t ibang pambansang bagay (hayop, puno, prutas, ibon…). Dun sa hayop, syempre kalabaw. Dahil complicated, a cousin of mine introduced to me the ingenuity of the tracing paper. After looking for the best picture I can find, I applied my newfound skill and drew myself a near-perfect image of the carabao.
   
   Hit na hit naman ang aking drawing, highly commended pa by my teacher. Yun nga lang, may karma: Since most of my classmates weren’t able to draw a distinguishable version of the kalabaw, sa kin nagpadrawing. Buong period akong nag-te-trace ng kalabaw ko sa text book nila.
   
   
8. Nagka-rumor non sa Zobel na may nagmumulto raw sa Chapel namen. Sabi, if you read the inscription at the back of the crucifix, magiging invisible ka raw. Or something like that. As a result, instead of praying, there was a time when grade 3 students like me would go to the chapel waiting for the brave person who would read the inscription.
   
   
9. The lot our house was built on was on the other side of the road at the base of a slope upon which the South Super Highway was. There were afternoons when we’d climb up that slope and walk along the grassy part behind the protective railing at the sides of the South Super Highway. Ang saya lang manood ng nagliliparang kotse at truck non. One of the best examples of how carefree being a child was.
   
   
10. I was almost hit by lightning when I was a kid. It was a rainy afternoon, and I was at my lola’s dinner table, which rested in front of her barong-barong’s big window. Biglang may nag-flash at may nakita akong guhit na puti na pumasok ng bintana. Di na ko nakagalaw. Sinundan yon ng malakas na kulog, then suddenly it was gone. For the longest time, I thought that was a dream, pero totoo pala talaga.
    
    
11. The first song I remember memorizing was “Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love For You” by George Benson. At di ko non alam ang ibig sabihin ng pinagkakakanta ko, lalo na sa part na “you otanobay-now how much I love you.”
    
    
12. Meanwhile, I first fancied myself a singer nang sa isang Christmas party ng barkada ng daddy ko (na tinaguriang “Los Compadres”), pinilit mag-share ang lahat ng mga bulilits ng kanilang talents. Kaysa magmukhang tanga sa pag-sayaw, at dahil wala akong memoryadong tula, I decided to sing “Changes In My Life” (‘I was not so happy, being lonely…’). Dahil maganda daw ang boses ko, binigyan ako ng gift na ang laman ay panyong may print na mga baraha.
    
    
13. Bata pa lang, mahilig na ko magpuyat at hirap matulog ng maaga. As a result, I usually sleep during the ride to school, e ako pa naman ang unang sinusundo ng service. Pilitin ko mang labanan, hindi ko talaga mapigilan ang bigat ng eyelids ko, at diyan na nagsisimulang mag-bounce forward-down-and-up again ang ulo ko sa sobrang antok. Madalas bumabalik ako sa ulirat only to see lahat ng ka-service ko na nakatitig sa kin, pinapanood ako.
    
    
14. For some reason, napakalaking kahihiyan sa Zobel ang abutan ng ‘call of nature’ sa school. Usually, we’d excuse ourselves to go to the clinic just to answer that call. In my case, di ko pa nga maamin sa School Nurse kung bakit ako nasa clinic. On one occasion, I pretended to have a headache than admit I needed to use the bathroom. When the nurse checked on me, she noticed my cold sweat, and asked me bluntly, “Baka naman nau-u-uu ka?” Like that will encourage me to admit it! So siyempre, the more I denied it.
    
    An hour after attempting to sleep off my indigestion, di ko na nakayanan. I decided to sneak into the bathroom and unload myself. Buti na lang, tulog ang ibang student-patients at on-break na yung nurse. Nakalabas ako ng clinic without being found out.
    
    
15. Dahil idol ko ang Bioman (I was Blue 3 – si Frankie!), madalas akong mag-bike imagining I was riding one of the Bioman’s motorcycles (kahit na si Red 1 at si Yellow 4 ang nag-momotor at hindi si Blue 3). Kaskasero ako non, kaya pag wala nang ibibilis pa, di ko na maiwasang sumigaw ng “Bio-speed!”
    
    Once, I decided to activate my “Bio-speed” while approaching the road hump in front of our neighbor’s house. Na-imagine ko na sa utak ko kung anong itsura ko with my bike launching off to the air like the Bioman that I am. True enough, I lauched off to the air. Di ko lang na-isip na pwede pa lang tumagilid yung bike. I landed on my leg, scraped my knee, at umuwing iika-ika. I still have the scar pa.
    
    
16. Yung bike incident na yon, takas lang. Di kasi ako pinapayagan ng katulong namin na mag-laro before 4PM. Mas mahirap pag dala ko yung bike, kaya pag minsan, tumatakas ako barefoot na lang, kahit para lang bumili ng Tarzan o plastic balloon sa tindahan ni Mrs. Mati. Dahil naka-lock ang gate, I sometimes have to climb over our steel fence, at may spikes yon sa dulo. In one instance, sa pagmamadali from my escapade, sumabit ang shorts ko sa spikes na yon while climbing over the fence. It ripped and left me hanging on the gate, butt first and limbs dangling, parang handkerchief sa agawang panyo. Tamang tama naman na katatapos lang maglaba ng maid namin. Ayon, basyo.
    
    
17. Ang first club na sinalihan ko in Grade School was the Blue Army. Dahil Bioman wannabe nga ako, at Blue ang favorite color ko, I opted for the Blue Army over the Cub Scouts. Okay pa dahil unlike the Cub Scouts, the Blue Army didn’t charge a fee and was co-ed, which was perfect since my best friend Gerardine and I wanted to be in the same club.
    
    Lo and behold, ang Blue Army pala ay isang religious club. Ayon, apat na quarter kaming nagdasal ng rosary.
    
    
18. Madalas kong maiwan ang lunch box ko sa school non. There was even a time when I left it on a Wednesday. E dahil holiday ng Thursday at Friday, it was already five days after, the following Monday, when I tried to retrieve it.
    
    The guard brought me to the lost and found room and showed me my lunch box to identify it. He even opened it to reveal green furry objects, the shadow of my tocino’s former self. Inamag na sa sobrang tagal. Sa diri at kahihiyan, I denied my lunchbox, and learned the guilt Peter must have felt when he denied Christ.
    
    
19. Biggest frustration ko non ang mag-paikot ng turumpo. I was successful in flying a kite, pero hanggang ngayon (at bumili pa ko 600 pesos-worth na ‘top’ sa Landes) never ko pa napaikot ng nakatayo yung turumpo.
    
    
20. My first intellectual game was “Bingo Chess.” Yung tipong may dalawang kulay ng chips. Ihuhulog ng dalawang magkalaban yung respective chips nila sa isang grid of sorts to form three or more consecutive horizontal, vertical or diagonal chips of the same color. Panalo yung may pinakamarami at pinakamahabang formations. At 4 years old, natatalo ko yung tatay ko!
    
    
21. Pero nang turuan ako ng tatay ko ng Chess, iisang beses lang ako nanalo sa kanya. It was the day I first felt na magaling ako.
    
    
22. In Grade 5, we had a class exercise where we were asked to list down the 10 things we’d save if our house were on fire. The teacher started going around asking each person to name an item that hasn’t been mentioned by the others. If may katulad sa list mo yung binanggit, you raise your hands. Nandoon yung usual stuff: clothes, money, toy, bible, rosary (sipsip yung iba e, palibhasa Christian Living yung subject). Pag dating sa kin, may iilang items na di pa nababanggit, so I mentioned the most important item left in my list. “Coloring books!” Walang nagtaas ng kamay.
    
    
23. Napagalitan ako ng adviser ko nung Grade 5 (si Miss Potenciano), nang mahuli niya kong nagdraw-drawing during her class. Teacher’s day pa naman non, kaya feeling niya extra pambabastos. Pinandigan ko talagang wag ibigay yung papel na pinag-da-drawingan ko. Mangiyak siyang nagpatuloy sa lesson.
    
    After the class, sa dismissal, I went to her table sa faculty room, apologized, gave her a flower and the paper with my drawing. Portrait niya kase yon at dapat surprise. (Awwww…!) Pinatawad naman niya ako’t isa na ko sa naging favorite students niya.
    
    
24. My school bus used to be a Fiera, yung tipong ang bintana e parang sa bus, minature version lang. You had to press these two mechanisms sa bottom corners para maitaas mo half-way yung bintana. Therefore, pag bukas siya, kalahati lang, yung top-half fixed na sarado.
    
    Since nagbebenta ng chicherya sa “service” (yep, service at hindi bus ang tawag namin), nakaugalian ko na ang ang bumili ng Bazooka pag uwian, thanks to my pagtitipid skills. Paborito ko yung pink gum na yon dahil sa “fortune” na fine print sa kalakip ng comic strips na libre dito. My most frequent fortune was: “Today, you turn over a new leaf.” At high school na ko nang malaman ko kung ano ang ibig sabihin non.
    
    Pero eto yung totoong kwento: One afternoon, sa sobrang pagkabagot sa traffic, I wanted to try a unique, clever way of spitting the gum out of the window. Naubos na kasi ang lasa ng Bazooka sa bibig ko. Imbis na iluluwa ko lang, gusto ko patingala ko siyang ibubuga palabas ng bintana! So I lifted the brown, acrylic window, and when it was halfway opened, I spat the gum out.
    
    E kinapos ako. Tuloy, imbis na tumilapon palabas ng bintana, tumama sa top-half ng bintana na sarado, at pumatak sa ulo ko. Susubukan ko pa sana ulit, kaso di na siya matanggal sa buhok ko.
    
    Ayon, I spent the rest of the ride home with my hand on my head, desperately trying to save myself from humiliation. Ang masama pa non, na-buking rin naman ako ng mga ka-service ko. Pag-uwi sa bahay, buong gabing nilangisan at sinabon ng katulong namin ang buhok ko, na nauwi rin naman sa gunting.
    
    
25. When I was in grade 6 naman, first time kong naka-tapak sa entablado bilang kalahok sa paligsahan. Yun una, napili akong representative ng class para sa “Madamdaming Pagbasa.” Medyo low profile yung contest, kumpara mo naman sa mga Quiz Bee. Lahat ng contestants, magbabasa ng iisang piyesa (tula ata yon o essay) na makikita lang nila five minutes before their turn. Yung order ng pagbabasa, determined by the contestants picking their number na nakataob sa podium. Yung unang dukot ko, #1! Buti walang nakatingin, kaya ibinalik ko. I ended up being #5 or #6 ata.
    
    When it was my turn, okay naman yung performance ko. Smooth sailing. May tingin at ‘connect’ with the audience pa. Yun nga lang, nang nasa kalagitnaan na ko ng binabasa ko, after my perfunctory glance at my audience, pag tingin ko sa papel, biglang nawala ako. May isang minuto yatang left-and-right ang mata ko, di ko pa rin mahanap kung asan na ko dun sa papel. Buti na lang, halos memoryado na ng audience yung piyesa na binabasa namin by that time. Narinig ko nang binubulong nila yung next line. Naka-recover naman ako.
    
    Awa ng diyos, third place naman ako.
    
    
26. That same day, nanood tatay ko nung contest. Di ko nga alam na darating siya e. I didn’t see him enter the auditorium, nakita ko na lang siya nang nakaupo na ko waiting for the announcement of winners.
    
    As it turns out, my dad arrived just in time for my performance. And during our lunch in the school canteen, sabi niya, dapat nga daw ako ang panalo kung di lang ako nawala. Na-touch naman ako. Very MMK yung eksena.
    
    
27. My other contest experience nung Grade 6 ay bilang “The Turtle” sa “The Rabbit & The Turtle.” Dahil idol ko rin si Leonardo of the Teen-age Mutant Ninja Turtles, na-enjoy ko ang role ko. In fact, nanalo yung class namin ng first place! Sayang walang acting awards.
    
    
28. I used to secretly hope the Care Bears would arrive on their cloud cars and park at the back of our house…
    
    
29. …Nagka-trauma kasi ako sa ipis nang isang beses ay sundan ko ng “Raid” spray yung isang ipis na papasok sa lungga niya. Nang umabot yung Raid spray ko sa lungga, naglabasan ang may daang-daang ipis (no kidding), scrambling all over the place and running all over my feet.
    
    E yung isa kong pinsan (na mas bata sa kin ng isang taon), sabi niya sa kin, siya raw ang hari ng mga ipis. Kaya niya raw i-command yung mga ipis to follow his bidding. Naniwala naman ako at talagang natakot na baka gumanti sa kin yung pinsan ko. Feeling ko, that more than qualified me as a potential recipient of the Care Bears’ help.
    
    
30. When I was in Grade 6, I dared my best friend Gerry (Gerardine) to enter the boy’s bathroom. For her own adventure, mind you. Saka sabi ko sasamahan ko naman siya. So sabay nga kami pumasok. Nang palabas na, I went out first. Nakita ko na may paparating na teacher na lalake. I immediately went back into the bathroom and told her to hide.
    
    Mantakin mo ba naman na pumasok yung teacher sa boy’s bathroom where we were. To be less obvious, I went out na. Nagtaka ko cause mag-fi-five minutes na, di pa lumalabas si Gerry at yung teacher.
    
    The teacher caught Gerry inside one of the cubicles pala. She and she went home with a violation report. Ako, scat-free. When I called her house that evening, I was declared persona non grata in their household.

Grabe, I reached 30 and I don’t even think I’m done yet. I’ll let it rest there for now.

This is good Che. Great idea! I’ve always thought I had a poor memory. Now I realize I was trying to remember all the wrong things!

I WILL WRITE

I just finished reading Che’s blog entries recounting indelible memories of her high school and childhood days. She even mentioned she’s already working on her college list.

I’ve been meaning to start a blog. More than anything, to practice writing (lalo na’t writer akong naturingan). After some time, nakakapurol din kasi na fiction at scripts at mga linya ng characters ang sinusulat mo. I tend to wonder if I can still coherently write my thoughts on paper, the way Doronila, de Quiros, and Vitug’s team’s articles make me nod in agreement while reading opinion pages. Whenever I start, I always end up censoring myself, trying hard to come up with an explosive first entry that will validate my skill. Obviously, that’s been self-defeating.

A lot of times, I find myself gauging myself, wondering how much of my potential I have exhausted. That never amounted to anything. But whenever I rediscover a memory, the way my friend’s entries made me hark back to my own, I always feel a sense of movement. Growth. It highlights all the more the distance I’ve traveled in time. And THAT always felt good. It tells me I’ve been somewhere and done something worth reminiscing. It doesn’t even matter how bad or good those times I’ve been through.

Now I understand why it is in remembering that one keeps himself anchored in humility.

When Che told me about her blog entries, I checked it out and realized that writing should be about you and your thoughts. To express and not impress. The only other blog I’ve tried reading before was another good friend’s, Rey, and I remember enjoying it precisely because it reflected exactly the kind of person Rey is – outrageous and funny. Without trying.

After resolving to write sans pretense, I decided to get it on finally. I guess I’m on the right track, considering I’m on my sixth paragraph. I figure I will stay on this track if I keep my entries more about what I think and less about what people might think. Still, I’m putting it out here in hopes of eliciting empathy from others. Memories are flitting, and sharing them through spoken or written stories parcels out the responsibility of remembering. After all, is there a better place to exist than in the hearts and memories of others? I am what I write and say. Not only am I the sum of my actions. I, too, am my words.

So now, I will write to remember. And be remembered.