On The Manila Peninsula Standoff

Senator Antonio Trillanes IV, Brig. Gen. Danny Lim, former Vice President Teofisto Guingona and company (including Bishop Labayen, Father Robert Reyes, Bibeth Orteza, etc.) just declared that they are finally vacating the Manila Peninsula's premises. In so doing, he claims that it is not to signify defeat or surrender, but to avoid further endangering the lives of civilian and media men who have been holed up with them in the hotel. This, following the PNP's forceful entry into the hotel lobby, with APC tanks ramming into the barricaded main entrance.

I woke up to news and images of Manila Peninsula's lobby barricaded from the inside, with soldiers with red armbands scattered throughout the hotel, and media people seemingly trapped inside. By then, I learned that there was a 3PM ultimatum given by the Philippine National Police (PNP) for them to surrender. A warrant has been subsequently issued for Senator Trillanes and his group's arrest. The hour has come and gone unheeded, and it was then that PNP came in with APCs and the Special Action Force (SAF). Warning shots were fired (apparently from the side of the police) and tear gas thrown in. Soon after, the PNP forces entered into the hotel with tanks.

Being an ordinary civilian watching the events unfold on television, it appears to me that the ultimatum was intended to be the peaceful way out for them. Senator Trillanes ignored this call. His lawyers gave a statement questioning the legality of the warrant, in effect justifying their decision to stand their ground. Meanwhile, media men, hotel staff, hotel patrons and other civilians were kept inside with them.

NOW, Senator Trillanes's group sends the message that they never intended to inflict violence, and that it was clearly the government who caused the situation to escalate. The Senator also proffers that this is the last resort left for them, saying, among other things, that the administration has continuously denied his mandate from the 11 Million people who voted him into the Senate. Father Robert Reyes (the Running Priest) goes on to say that they were actually preparing to leave the hotel when tear gas was thrown into the hotel lobby. They were only prevented from doing so because of concern for the health of the people in their entourage. Then we hear Atty. JV Bautista saying that this has gone out of hand, with the media becoming peripheral casualty.

Talk about Monday morning quarterback-ing. I just find it hard to rally behind Sen. Trillanes's cause when there seems to be a disconnect between his actions and his words.

I myself condemn the PNP's attempts to curtail press freedom and confiscate file footage taken during the mutiny (if indeed these reports are accurate). However, these points are distinct and separate from the crux of the mutiny.

I just find it amusing that the mutineers have suddenly withdrawn from defending the principles behind their cause in favor of appealing to mass sympathy and support. Suddenly, they have taken the position of being victims in this particular situation, conveniently glossing over the fact that they unnecessarily took over the Manila Peninsula, subsequently (and intentionally?) disrupting peace and order. Who, then, is truly to blame in putting civilians and media men's lives in peril?

I'd probably be more prepared to lend validity to Sen. Trillanes's actions had they not taken this messianic stance of being the nation's saviors while completely disregarding the error of the means by which they choose to achieve their proclaimed righteous goals. He may be a senator, and I respect that (even though I am not among the 11 Million members of the electorate whom he constantly uses as shield to legitimize his actions). I just thought that being a member of the legislature, it was also incumbent upon him to respect the rule of law and refrain from resorting to extra-judicial means.

Is he a senator, or is he a revolutionary? He seems to be both, depending on when it is most convenient to his public image.

Lest you forget where you really stand, you simply cannot have a foot on either side of the border.

Avenue Q

Ever since I heard about it winning the 2004 (?) Tony Award for best musical, I've looked forward to watching AVENUE Q. Two weeks ago, thanks to Atlantis Production, I finally got to see the play at the Carlos P. Romulo Theatre, RCBC Plaza Makati with my close friends Judy, Norman, Rey, Erica and Pinky.

Initially, it was just the idea of seeing puppets dominate the stage with the puppeteers singing beside them that got me interested in the play. I thought that was a brilliant idea. It was only later that I realized that the whole production was in fact a musical parody of Sesame Street, a childhood staple for me and most of my friends (alongside Batibot!). Maybe that's the reason why I was instantly curious about the production. After downloading some Avenue Q songs off Limewire, I was officially hooked.

Aside from the not-so-subtle allusions to Cookie Monster and Ernie and Bert, the songs are what I love most about it. I even Amazon-ed a copy of the CD. From the opening tune, "What Do You Do With A B.A. In English?" to others exploring the theme of looking for one's purpose in life, it literally spoke to my generation. I remember back in college, when my batchmates and I had to fend off constant criticisms from media practitioners and fresh grads about our course not being as relevant as it was before. The song could've very well sung, "What do you do with a B.A. in Broad Comm?"

There were also the songs about unrequited love, political correctness, and reminiscence over college days. Among those I loved most are "Fantasies Come True" and "There's A Fine, Fine Line."

I guess you'll never know 'til you reach the top
If it was worth the uphill climb
There's a fine, fine line between love
And a waste of time

Sigh. Napapatingin nga ko ke Rey while the song was being performed as I knew he was going through something similar as Kate Monster was going through.

Oh, and "Mix Tape"! Especially since as a kid, I was in the habit of making mix tapes, albeit for my own personal pleasure. That quirk was carried on to college, although thanks to technology, I upgraded to ripping and burning CD tracks instead, making soundtracks to my out-of-town trips with friends. I fed on the satisfaction borne out of hearing a van-ful of friends bouncing or sighing "awww...." in chorus as we listened to and sung along songs that appealed to our generation, whether because they made us wax nostalgia or because they were current hits at the time.

Ahhh, those college days...

No surprise I also loved *loved* Avenue Q's penultimate anthem "I Wish I Could Go Back To College."

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 ahead

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"

How do I go back to college?
I don't know who I am anymore
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!

We could be...
sitting in a computer lab
4A.M. before the final paper is due
Cursing the world cause I didn't start sooner
And see the rest of the class there, too!...

I wish I had taken more pictures...

I swear, it's like the words were written with my own pen. A blog entry unto itself can be written about this.

It wasn't the first time I got fascinated by a musical that I haven't seen. Like most kids my age at the time, I bought the Original Broadway Cast Recording of Miss Saigon. (Tape pa nga non e, later na lang nung mas matanda ako bumili ng CD). Even if it was about Vietnam, kahit I had to settle piecing the story together through the songs (unlike the CD sleeve, the tape didn't have the plot synopsis), the fact a Filipina was playing Kim was enough. For a generation of kids, Lea Salonga instantly became the local artist to look up to. I no longer get surprised when I hear a song from that CD and see other Gen X-ers singing along with the same familiarity.

I remember back in college when news of Miss Saigon playing its final season in Broadway. I wanted so much to catch Lea in it that I even planned on going to New York to see it. Unfortunately, the day I applied for a visa was the same day the Visiting Forces Agreement was being deliberated on in the Senate. As in, while I was lined up to enter the US Embassy in Roxas Boulevard, there was a protest rally outside (this eventually became my inspiration for one of the scenes in YOU ARE THE ONE, starring Toni Gonzaga and Sam Milby). No wonder from almost 100 percent visa application approvals the day before, it dropped to 5 percent the following day. And I was among the casualty.

Of course, that turned out to be a blessing since the production was brought to Manila a few years after, with Lea playing Kim. I got to watch the show after all. Thrice! Once for free, and another time with my Mom, on Christmas Eve, with Lea and the rest of cast treating the audience to a special, surprise treat: A slew of Christmas carols sung by the cast and crew themselves! That was definitely one of my most memorable Christmases.

Then there's Rent. I stumbled into this musical by accident. Back when the Tower Records store in Glorietta 3 was the biggest record store there was, I used to scour through its merchandise looking for CDs that were erstwhile unavailable to us Pinoys. While looking through the section that had the Original Broadway Cast recordings, I was drawn to the Rent CD. I bought it on a whim and instantly fell in love. At the time, it had been a few years since it won the Tony Award for best musical. Soon after, I heard about the plans to stage it here in Manila. My friend Hannah even encouraged me to audition for it, considering it had a very hip, almost R&B-inspired libretto. I didn't think I had the performing chops to boost the desire, so I settled for being an audience. I got to see it twice in the Music Museum. That was really something, what with some foreign audiences saying that our cast was even better than Broadway's!

Back to Atlantis's AVENUE Q. Truth be told, I was a bit disappointed. I don't know if it was because I hyped it much too much in my head. On the positive side, I did love Rachel Alejandro (but then, I've always loved her). But even my friends who didn't know much about her thought that her portrayal of Kate Monster and Lucy The Slut was impressive. I thought so too. Especially when she was doing Lucy, whose character called for the grunting, belting style of singing that was closer to Rachel's professional singing style. Joel Trinidad, who played Trekkie, Nicky, and one half of the hilarious Bad Idea Bears tandem (one of the show's few surprises, considering I knew most of what to expect from the production) was just... Wow. Galeng!

Frenchie Dy, playing Christmas Eve, was okay. Well, okay, she was quite good. Although there were times when she did drop her character's Japanese accent, as in her solo number, "The More You Ruv Someone," which was otherwise laudable if not for her tendency to sound like her normal self while hitting those high notes, instead of Christmas Eve with her idiosyncratic R-L speech defect.

Now, Rycharde Everly as Brian was a definite miscast. He didn't have the comic timing required by his character. Sayang pa naman some of his punch lines, flying way overhead in a total miss, with nary a hit. Felix Rivera playing the lead character Princeton was... nothing spectacular. I thought he lacked the lovable, matinee idol dimension to the character, though he was great at playing Rod, Nicky's gay Republican roommate. With Aiza Seguerra, I'm torn. I love her singing voice, so it's hard for me to diss her as Gary Coleman. She has a great recording voice but the stage didn't give it justice. She wasn't able to fill the shoes of her character, either. She had much potential in the part, but she was awkward and unrealized. I was close to burying myself in embarrassment as she sang "Schadenfreude," supposedly her character's moment to shine, but sadly turned into a failure. It was like Aiza wanted the audience to know how Schadenfreude really felt - happiness in the misfortune of others.

As a member of the paying audience, I get to say all that. I just want to qualify my right to critique the play. Lalo na since some of friends know that I actually auditioned for the play.

This was a few months back, in June ata. My friends and I have been planning on it, but I didn't realize when the audition was until the night before the actual day. As a result, I wasn't able to prepare, emotionally and otherwise. The next day, I grabbed all the music sheets in my house and picked up Pinky and Norman, who both agreed to join me in my humiliation. I only decided on what to sing on the ride to Makati, after Pinky suggested "something from Rent." I finally zeroed in on "I'll Cover You."

When I got there and saw the number of people lined up for the auditions, rehearsing and reviewing their pieces, I knew there and then that I had no chance. I just didn't have the guts to do it. But I soldiered on. Only because I didn't want to quit after setting out to do it, and because I wanted to chalk it up as one of those things I got to do before I died.

Pinky was the first to sing. She sang, "Where Is Love" from Oliver. We could hear her from the anteroom and she sounded perfect. At sa lagay na yon, she kept claiming she didn't have enough sleep and that she sounded hoarse! I was already panicking at this stage. I started to realize singing a song which was a duet by two men whose voices were of different pitches was not the best idea. Oh, and I didn't even have the song memorized. Jeez!

My turn was up. When I got inside the room, I was overwhelmed. Bobby Garcia, Chari Arespacochaga and another guy were the ones holding the auditions. I handed the sheet to the assistant, who in turn gave it to the pianist, and I stepped on the X mark. "This is Raz de la Torre."

"What are you singing?"

"I'll Cover You from Rent? I don't have it memorized so I'll be reading from this."

The moment those words were out of my mouth, I knew I was headed for disaster. Tanga! Why did I have to call attention to that? I already knew that was a no-no, did I really have to make them more conscious of it?

Well, anyway, I proceeded to singing. My first note was off, and my voice was quivering. But I think I recovered naman. When the shift from the first male voice to the next came, I managed to hold the fort - the transition was fine. Now, at this point, as I was singing, I distinctly remember hating both Bobby and Chari. Throughout my song, Bobby had looked indifferent, but Chari... Chari looked mean and scathing, though both were actually silent the whole time. Except at one point when Chari whispered something to Bobby. Maybe that's where my "scathing" remark comes from.

They allowed me to sing through two stanzas until the end of the first chorus, and I did it with considerable aplomb, something I didn't expect to muster while auditioning, and after a nerve-wracking, confidence-shattering wait outside!

Bobby thanked me. And I stopped. And then, he said, "Nice voice. Very good." And bowed to look at the next resume on his table. I turned around and walked away.

I didn't even notice Norman's audition anymore, as I was just thankful mine wasn't as disastrous as I expected it to be. I never knew what a tall order it was to be an amateur performing in front of professionals. The only time I auditioned for a play was in college, and that wasn't half as intimidating as the time I did for Avenue Q. So to get a compliment after wallowing in self-doubt and thoughts of "what am I thinking!?" ranked way up there, as if Chari herself had broken into a smile and said, "That's it, Raz! You're our Princeton!"

So all in all, and put in that context, I felt the Atlantis Production did an okay job. The material was great to begin with, so once they got the puppeteering nailed down, I guess they got it made. Besides, seeing and hearing those wonderful songs performed onstage was reward enough. Now, if only someone would risk (re)staging Les Miserables, Jekyll & Hide, The Civil War, Into The Woods, Monty Python's Spamalot, Wicked, The Lion King, Beauty and the Beast, Hairspray, You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown, The Drowsy Chaperone, and A Chorus Line.

Bobby, Chari?

Robert Jordan Is Dead

Robert Jordan, author of the Wheel Of Time series, is dead.

I woke up to a text message from my good friend Nana (who works as a news reader in 99.5 Hit FM) relaying the sad news of his demise. It happened a few hours ago in his home state of South Carolina.

He is one of the few people I can unabashedly admit to being a fan of. I think I was in second year high school when I first started reading him. My high school best friend John Rae introduced me to the first book of the Wheel Of Time series, The Eye of the World (thanks JRae!). I think he was already on his sixth book then (Lord Of Chaos). I was instantly hooked.

It was the first time I read a fantasy book and the first time I read a book that had more than 300 pages. Up until then, I only read paperbacks. Particularly, the Hardy Boys Casefiles, which I started reading after a former neighbor of ours gave me volume 27 of its 90s incarnation for my birthday. This was back in 1991 or 1992, I think, when I was in grade 7.

I don't remember being exceptionally fond of those neighbors of ours, but I do thank them for introducing me to reading. I instantly embraced it as my new hobby and regretted not starting earlier. As a child, I was the kind who was more addicted to drawing and coloring and doing activity books. It wasn't even until after college that I got to read C.S. Lewis.

After that first novel ("Nowhere To Run" was the title - I can't believe I remember it!), I made the National Bookstore at Alabang Town Center (ATC) a regular stopover. I usually dropped by after weekend school meetings in Zobel. I'd ask to be picked up an hour or two after my meetings were scheduled to end and hang out in the paperback section. I'd watch out for new volumes of the Casefiles, plan in which order I'd buy them (based primarily on how attractive the cover was), and fantasize about completing the collection. All the extra money I saved were invested in these books. I'd be curious about the other series, but as I've come to realize, I have this tendency to being fiercely loyal - thus my devotion to Frank and Joe's adventures.

Jayson, my other high school best friend, used to say that among his favorite things in the world is the smell of new books. Now that I think about it, the earthy, woody smell of books' pages has come to remind me of those days when time was entirely my own, when there was joy to be had in the simple act of walking down bookstore aisles, and I could lose myself to a 100-page book without the guilt that I was trading my time off in favor something more important. Nowadays, there are times when reading becomes a chore, and even bookstore visits have to be rushed.

I collected more than 30 volumes of Hardy Boys Casefiles. Prior to that, the only literature I was ever truly seriously into were the Choose Your Own Adventures series, the Adventures of Tintin, and whenever I chanced upon one, the Where's Waldo books. I eventually took up Christopher Pike's books, young adult fiction specializing in the thriller/horror genre. My friends were also into Sweet Valley, R.L. Stine, and Goosebumps, but like I said, I tend to be loyal.

Robert Jordan's books represent my adolescence in more ways than one. It must be because we were introduced while I was in puberty, when my identity was being molded and I was just starting to focus on myself. Jordan's world became an escape from high school insecurities. It was also the first time that I thought of myself as a serious reader. His books influenced my vocabulary and writing style. They expanded my imagination and threshold for books. When I went to college, his books were among the things with which new friends came to associate me. It was also one of the tokens from high school I was able to carry on to college, and beyond. It is always an engaging conversation piece with friends who share the same passion, and I always feel an affinity to new acquaintances when I find out that they, too, follow the Wheel Of Time.

I'm not versed enough in the fantasy genre to say that Robert Jordan is the best there was (heck, I have yet to read Tolkien's Lord of The Rings!). But he is a favorite. After all, I have been engrossed by his books and characters the longest (my first web-based email address, which I got when I was in first year college, was Raz_alThor@yahoo.com, in honor of Rand, his books' hero). I think it's the epic proportions of Jordan's novels that keeps me devoted. Rowling's Potter books, much as I looove them, sometimes come off too simple, patently contrived, and at times amateurish compared to the rich texture of Jordan's world. It helped that Jordan was very detailed. Some loathe that in books, but I've come to enjoy them. The span of the story, wealth of characters, intricacy of its world, the history and parallelism to real life politics; the way his characters leap out of the pages as if they're real people, leading real lives, albeit in an alternate, fantastical world. There were even times when I deliberately kept myself from reading his books, afraid there'd be no more left to peruse after the final page. And now, that time has come.

I always feared the day when death would get the best of Jordan and leave us, his readers, in perpetual anticipation of how his epic story would end. (I couldn't help it. He has pictures at the back of his books and he really looked old). Today, that fear has materialized. I can only hope someone as competent would pick up the threads and keep alive the brand of literature we have come to expect from this extraordinary man.

Cheers to Robert Jordan. Let the Dragon ride again on the winds of time.

People of the Philippines v. Malu Fernandez (In re: The People Asia Article)

AN OPEN LETTER TO MISS MALU FERNANDEZ


Dear Ms. Malu Fernandez,

I was waiting in my dentist's receiving room a few months ago when I read your article in the June 2007 issue of People Asia. I remember feeling incensed by the way you denigrated your fellow Filipinos and the pompous way you name-dropped Malone, Vuitton, the places you've been to and the *more* famous people with whom you hobnob. However, I was alone at that time and thought it would be inappropriate to direct my indignation to the unsuspecting receptionist in front of me.

I have completely forgotten about it until today, when I read my friend's blog entry about your article. It was only then that I read the wealth of literature written about you and your article, and realized how much it has rocked the blogosphere and the massive campaign that had since been launched seeking for your firing or resignation (in a parallel universe, I'd probably even applaud the impact you've created).

What I say here may never reach your expensive computer screen (my blog's no People Asia after all), but I will say it anyway, to add fuel to the already raging inferno borne of the outrage over your... existence.

Following her recollections of her trip to Boracay and Greece, Malu Fernandez goes on to write this about her layover in UAE (the whole article is at the bottom of this blog):

"However I forgot that the hub was in Dubai and the majority of the OFWs (overseas Filipino workers) were stationed there. The duty-free shop was overrun with Filipino workers selling cell phones and perfume. Meanwhile, I wanted to slash my wrist at the thought of being trapped in a plane with all of them. Of course, everyone in the economy class was yelled at for having overweight hand-carries. Mine was 17kg (ssshhhh!!!)."

"While I was on the plane (where the seats were so small I had bruises on my legs), my only consolation was the entertainment on the small flat screen in front of me. But it was busted, so I heaved a sigh, popped my sleeping pills and dozed off to the sounds of gum chewing and endless yelling of “HOY! Kumusta ka na? At taga san ka? Domestic helper ka rin ba?” Translation: “Hey there? Where are you from? Are you a domestic helper as well?” I thought I had died and God had sent me to my very own private hell."

"On my way back, I had to bravely take the economy flight once more. This time I had already resigned myself to being trapped like a sardine in a sardine can with all these OFWs smelling of AXE and Charlie cologne while Jo Malone evaporated into thin air."

Many people have called you a bigot, accused you of being insensitive, elitist... even a pig (and most of them were quite literal with the last).

If I were one of your unfortunate friends, I probably would've advised you to pack up and fly back to Greece, wait it out, then come back when the dust has cleared. You see, this could have easily have blown over had it not been for your callous response:

"As I type this, I’d like you to know that it’s not about whining, complaining and bitching but just stating the facts. Just recently, I wrote a funny article in my magazine column and my friends thought it was hilarious. It was humorous and quite tongue-in-cheek, or at least I thought so, until the magazine got a few e-mails from people who didn’t get the meaning of my acerbic wit. The bottom line was just that I had offended the reader’s socioeconomic background. If any of these people actually read anything thicker then a magazine they would find it very funny. Most people don’t get the fact that they need bitches like me to shake up their world, otherwise their lives would be boring and mediocre."

"Although it may sound elitist to you the fact is this country is built on the foundation of haves, have-nots and wannabes. One group will never get the culture of the other. Although I could mention that it is easier to understand someone who has a lower socioeconomic background that would entail a whole other page and frankly I don’t want to be someone to bridge the gap between socioeconomic classes. I leave that to the politicians in my family who believe they can actually help. Now I seriously ask you, am I being a diva or are people around me just lacking in common sense? Perhaps it’s a little of both!"

You seriously ask us if you're just being a diva or if we are simply lacking in common sense. Allow me to find an answer by being explaining why I was particularly offended by your writing.

I thought it was mighty arrogant of you to disparage the OFWs in that flight simply because they were behaving opposed to how you would, or because they reeked of cheap perfumes. The way you doggedly pointed out their nationalities, you clearly wanted to dissociate yourself from them because they were Filipinos, yet in the same paragraph, you unwittingly state the obvious. That you are, alas, no different from them. A Filipino who fly coach and a transgressor of International Civil Aviation carry-on luggage policies.

"Of course, everyone in the economy class was for having overweight hand carries. Mine was 17kg."

And no, the parenthetical "ssshhhh!!!" does not make it cute.

***

Let me just say that I'd probably be the first to cringe when made witness to a fellow Filipino making an ass of him- or herself. I even admit to being embarrassed by the same airline behavior you, Miss Fernandez, had proudly written about.

There's a gazillion of things we Filipinos should not be proud of, a gazillion things more we should change in ourselves. I admit to that, and I'd even gladly engage in a debate on how that can and must be done. But surely you can tell this wouldn't be the proper context for that?

Perhaps what sets you apart from me and the other Filipinos you have angered is that we will never blatantly look down on our kabayan. You, however, denounce your own for no better reason than raising their voices in an airplane, getting excited about going home, and not having enough money to afford the scent you wear.

I may, at times, be embarrassed by what they do, but I will never be ashamed of who they are. For I, too, am Filipino. To deny them is to deny myself.

If only by virtue of our shared nationality, you will never see me writing about that kind of experience and having it published for the world to see in a vain attempt to elicit cheap laughs, aggrandize my image and affirm my social status. As one blogger points out,

There is a line between being hilariously offensive, and being just offensive, and it’s not a thin one. We know it for what it is, and we know it’s best to keep such thoughts to ourselves or shared only with others of similar disposition. It’s called tact.

Tact. On tact vis-á-vis humor, you might learn a little something from Jessica Zafra.

***

When you reacted to the emails your magazine has received, let me correct your thinking that your readers simply didn't get your "acerbic wit." The fact that your friends laugh and appreciate the condemned parts of your article does not mean our sense of humor is amiss. To us, it simply means those friends of yours are as mean-spirited and insensitive as the writer. And if you need us to legitimize our standing to give an opinion, let me say then that many of us do read those sheets of paper bound together in the spine and sandwiched by hard backs. (What are they again? Books! They're thicker than magazines, right?)

Furthermore, in case you can't do the math, the countless emails and blog entries reacting to your article translates to the countless people who have taken offense. I hope that makes it clear that we don't need a bitch like you (bitch! finally, something we agree on!) to shake up our world. If it is wit and humor we crave, we will find it in people who can do it with taste, and the humility to boot.

You, on the other hand, should take a refresher course on journalism.

If you insist that your wit is an acquired taste exclusive only to those who belong to your niche, might I suggest, then, that the next time you write something that may be construed as unpalatable, consider instead writing a newsletter with exclusive circulation to those who share your celebrated humor. And don't delude yourself into thinking everyone who belongs in your stratum, the "haves," think the way you do. I have met a few of them and thankfully, they're not all like you and your friends. I noticed that the only ones who brandish their lifestyle and write in the self-important manner as you have done in your article are those who are insecure of their status as the "haves." In your own words, the "wannabes."

Finally, in the same manner you expect us to accept your short-sighted defense, we also expect you to just recognize the new lows to which you have sunk in our bourgeois and peasant eyes. Do not think you can just brush off your readers' opinions. You see, for us, it's not as simple as putting down the magazine either. Readers pay for the whole magazine, and your inclusion as a columnist is not something we can avoid. As much as we'd like to ban you from writing, the power is not ours. It's your editors' and employers' (hint, hint!). Ranting and throwing rotten tomatoes your way is our only recourse. (Maybe we should try the latter?)

Now if you can't take the heat of your own undoing, you should think twice about getting published. You see, that, too, is what journalism is about. Responsibility and accountability.

I hope all that proves that we don't lack common sense. That's not to say that you're just being a diva though. Divas, at least, have something to show for it apart from their wealth. Simply put, what it makes you is rude.

We get it, Miss Fernandez. You're the one who doesn't.

To those who just read my letter, be fair to Miss Malu Fernandez.
Read the article yourself. (Click on it to see the larger picture):

20.07.2007

As the SIF-ASEAN Student Fellowship I attended in 2002 came to an end, the Fellows agreed on a pact to meet again in Singapore five years after. The date, 20th July 2007. In short: 20.07.2007.

At first, I thought it wasn't a very good idea to have a reunion that soon. I reasoned some of us may still be studying then, or just finished college and are just starting to work. I thought it might be better to wait for our 10th year. That way, we'd all be established in our respective careers and better disposed to covering the expenses for the reunion. But it had already been agreed upon, so I shut up and just looked forward to that fateful day.

About a year ago, my Kabayans and I thought of jump starting the preparation for the reunion. We wanted to make sure more people can go, so we thought of ways to maybe market money and subsidize the lodging and transportation costs. However, most of us were busy with our jobs and whatever plans we eventually fell through.

Early this year, the Fellows started talking about the upcoming reunion. Talks of holding the reunion in Genting Highlands in Malaysia, but we eventually decided on holding it in Singapore. Always, the priority being making it convenient for the most number of people.

I was so excited. There were even requests from some of the Fellows for me to bring the old video that I made so we can view it again in the reunion. While burning a DVD copy of that video, I thought, why not make another one? I had more than 10 hours worth of footage from the Fellowship. Surely, there were lots of clips they haven't seen that they'd love to see. I kept putting it off because I was busy with work, and by the time I gathered the old tapes from the Fellowship so I can at long last start editing a new video, I only had a week left before the reunion.

Previewing the tapes took most time. I salvaged around six tapes, around 8 hours worth. Going through that wouldn't normally take that long since I can breeze through it by speeding the playback. But when you're reviewing footage that contained precious memories, you can't help but sit back and watch. Countless times, I laughed myself silly watching and reminiscing those days. Memories that have taken refuge at the back end of my mind suddenly came rushing to fore.

Two days before my flight to Singapore, I started editing this music video. I wanted it to be a fitting tribute to the 5th anniversary and first official reunion of the SIF-ASEAN Student Fellowship Batch 2002. Back then, I had all the time in the world to make sure that the "Seasons of Love" music video I was preparing came out exactly as I intended it to be. I was able to make sure all the important events that were caught on tape edited into the final cut. I made sure all the Fellows had a few seconds of exposure. With only two days left, I just didn't have that same luxury anymore. I worked for two days, rushing to make sure I made it to the reunion. I finished at 5.30AM on July 21, and I had to dash to the airport by 6AM if I were to make my 8AM flight (I got to the airport at 6.30AM, almost didn't make it!).

When I got to Singapore, the Fellows were engaged in the Singapore Heritage Race, fashioned after the Amazing Race. Some of the Fellows arrived earlier than the agreed upon date, and have had their fill of Singapore. I didn't want to go to Su Lynn's house (our generous Singaporean host) by myself, so I decided to do my shopping at Orchard. I went to the spots I frequented back when I was still studying in the Lion Cit: Kinokuniya, Borders, Raffles City, Citylink Mall.

It was already evening when I finally met up with the Fellows. I got to Vivo City (the spanking new mall at Habour Front) a little past 9PM. I felt a little nervous as I walked toward the restaurant... I didn't know what to expect. When entered Marcher, I was awashed with delight to see so many Fellows in one place, and so many whom I haven't seen for a very long time. Duong (who came with his girlfriend, Phuong), Lum, Cynthia, Vippy, Danny, Joel, Ivy, Man, Ben, Hang, OPS, Jeffrey, Dat, Su Lynn, and my Kabayans, Duke, Richard, Kenneth and Natz. Of course, Gerald was reliably there to shepherd his erstwhile flock, all of us now older though not necessarily grown up ;) The very pregnant Claudia arrived a few moments later with her husband and our adopted batchmate Kevin.

I had so much fun catching up and goofing around with the Fellows. The faux-marketplace theme of Marcher added to the festive atmosphere. One might think it wasn't much of a reunion considering we didn't even reach half of our batch's total number, but gathering 22 people at one place is no mean feat. And having that many number of people sitting together to honor and commemorate an experience that we all hold dearly in our hearts is just overwhelming. Euphoric.

We went to Fong Seng, one of our former hang outs during our Fellowship days located at the outskirts of NUH. We continued to exchange updates over roti prata and teh tarik. We relayed news about our other Kabayans who couldn't make it, learned who among them just recently tied the knot, became parents or are expecting, relocated, and graduated. What they're doing and how fat their paychecks are now. We also exchanging contact details. Riza joined us at Fong Seng, bringing our number to 23.

After long drawn goodbyes to those who had to go home because of other obligations (Joel, Kevin, Claudia, and Vippy had to go home, Cynthia had an early flight the following morning), we went to Su Lynn's house. We nestled in the basement and feasted on the snacks we brought from our respective countries. Someone took out a bottle of vodka, but no one seemed brave enough to initiate the drinking. It seemed like only a few of us were genuinely excited about the vodka.

They clamored for the long awaited viewing of the Seasons of Love video. Riza preempted my surprise a bit when he asked if I was showing a new one. We set up the laptop and waxed nostalgic as we watch that old video projected onto the expansive white wall of Su Lynn's basement. It's like viewing it again for the first time the way everyone laughed and cheered as familiar clips were played.

Then, I took out the other DVD I brought and played the video I recently edited, the one I almost didn't finish in time. Unlike the previous one, we watched this new video more solemnly. Perhaps it was because it was fresh to them, because of the new clips I included in it. Or maybe it was because it included clips of our parting, footage of fellows crying as we said our goodbyes five years ago. I've always loved the song "Your Home Is In My Heart" by Boyz II Men, from the soundtrack of the movie "How Stella Got Her Groove Back." Over the years, I never got the chance to make use of it. I finally did with this new video.

I relished the irony of being in Singapore, reunited five years after, huddled as we watched our younger selves crying, waving our hands as we bade farewell and depressed at the probability of never seeing each other again. It's like we were spitting on the notion of goodbye.

Warmed up, we finally mustered enough courage to tipple the vodka. After offering Gerald the ceremonial first sip, we started passing around the shot glass. At first, it was just OPS, Man, Kenneth, Lum, Dat, Duke and Richard who were game. Due to our insistence, we eventually managed to bring most of the others into the circle. Dat intiated drinking games which we initially thought too corny but went along with anyway. We finished the entire first bottle before long.

Late in the evening, we succeeded in bringing everyone in our drinking games. Su Lynn generously offered us another bottle of vodka from her father's bar. She also brought left over chicken to add to the the junk we've been feasting on. We had a blast! Especially when Dat kept losing most rounds of the games he's supposed to be the master of :) Even Riza whose religion disallowed him from downing the penalty vodka shot (he drank water intead, though he still seemed drunker than most by the time we finished). Duong fell asleep early in the game, clearly unused to the drinking. Others who we were initially reluctant were unable to resist our prodding. Even Duke who was scheduled to fly out in a few hours got wasted a bit more than he intended.

We were all drunk or tipsy when we finally retired. We took our places on Su Lynn's vodka stained carpet (sorry again, Su Lynn) and started snoring.

When I woke up the next day, we had gathered at the poolside to chat. As they took orders for their lunch, I said a temporary goodbye to head off to Orchard and change since I didn't have time to bring extra clothes the previous night. After a quick shower, however, I dozed off and woke up late in the afternoon. I learned that most of the Fellows have left by then. And that was that, an abrupt end to a surprisingly wild but sentimental weekend.

This is a new, re-edited cut of the video, with some footage that were not included in the version I premiered during the reunion drinking session. Five months in Singapore summed up in a five-minute song to celebrate five years of friendship.



The footage may be rusty and dated, but the sentiments remain as fresh as ever.

Now looking forward to our revitalized pact to meet again in three years: 20th October 2010. In short...

Fire And Rain: The Weekend I Flew To Bohol

When I missed my scheduled flight to Tagbilaran last Holy Week, I made a vow that I will make it to Bohol within the year. I’ve been meaning to go back for so long. After all, the last time I was there was in 1997. My mom treated me and my two high school best friends, Ronald and Jayson, to a trip to Cebu. We stayed at the Plantation Bay Hotel in Mactan Island, though the primary agenda of that trip was for me to see this small beach front property my mom bought the previous year (which she eventually sold).

It was very memorable as it was my first time to fly with friends, my first time to go on vacation with friends outside Luzon. We had a blast exploring Cebu (we saw the Magellan Cross, Fort San Pedro, and went to this spot overlooking the Queen City), and Bohol (we saw a cave and made a quick trip to, where else, the Chocolate Hills).

Bohol had since developed into the major tourist destination that it is now. The Chocolate Hills had always been a draw, but after the Bohol Beach Club opened, its popularity was bolstered, consequently reintroducing the island as a beach destination rivaling Boracay and Cebu. Soon after, it also started gaining reputation as a premiere dive spot.

I finally got my wish to revisit Bohol last month, when I accompanied my friend Jean on her birthday vacation. We went with her friends Cris and Poch who, like her, have recently taken up diving as a sport and were raring to see the bounty of Bohol’s marine life. Before going there, I checked out Laida's pictures and took note of the places she went to. Particularly, the Bohol Bee Farm. Skeeter also told me to make sure I ate at the place.

Jean, Poch and I arrived in Tagbilaran on July 14, a little before lunch. This was after our flight was delayed for three hours. Normally, I wouldn’t have any problem sleeping on the uncomfortable seats of the old domestic airport’s waiting area. I am, after all, particularly talented in sleeping anywhere. Seeing, however, that the airport was heaving with vacationers that Saturday, I decided to read instead.

Since I didn’t sleep the night before, as common to most of my travels, I was just about ready to expire when we arrived at the Dumaluan Beach Resort a little before noon. We blew off the couple of hours of waiting by playing cards and having lunch (overpriced and remarkably insipid). When we were finally allowed into our rooms, I settled in by catching up on sleep.

The sun was gone when Jean woke me up. I joined them at Dumaluan’s in-house restaurant where Poch and Cris, who arrived from Cebu in the afternoon, were waiting. After dining on grilled food, Cris and Poch had a few rounds of beer while Jean and I had coffee at the Bohol Beach Club. When we got back to the resort, Cris and Poch had gone to bed. Jean, too, was tired so she left me alone with my book at the resort's reception area and hit the sack.

It was close to midnight when I finished reading. I was still bubbling with energy, so I decided to check out the party at the rooftop. It seemed exclusive so I turned to go back when this group of friendly manongs called out to me and asked me to take a shot of the alcohol they were drinking. I gladly obliged. Soon, I was part of their circle, drinking more of the bahalina, which, mixed with Coke, comes off as a dark-colored version of lambanog (coconut wine) more akin to red wine or vinegar, as lambanog is to vodka. I was drawn into a spirited exchange. I with anecdotes on writing movies, they with their politics, the Sandugo Festival, and the famous Boholanos in show business.

Suddenly, a group of Koreans staying at the Bohol Beach Club started screaming. We looked toward the direction they were pointing and saw the nipa roof of the Bohol Beach Club Clubhouse in flames. My newfound friends scrambled to rouse the resort's guards from sleep. I ran toward the clubhouse to see how I could help.

Some of the resort's employees had started hand-shoveling sand to the burning roof. I told them to look for fire extinguishers, realizing that none of them thought of that first. When they found them, they were all reluctant to use it, as if taking it from its encasement was sacrilegious enough. One of the manongs I was drinking with (forgive me, I forget their names) climbed on to the wall and made use of the extinguisher.

The fire was growing bigger. While the fire extinguisher helped quell some of it, the gust of wind that came with the discharge also spread the fire all over the highly flammable nipa roof. I was looking for more extinguishers when I saw the fire hose at the back. I opened it and asked one of the employees to take the hose all the way to the side nearest to the burning roof. When I turned the valve, it had no supply of water. I noticed that the pool was just a few meters away, so I told them to fetch pails and draw water from the pool. Someone took heed and got a chafing dish from the clubhouse's buffet table. The others followed suit and started fetching water from the pool, using all sorts of improvised containers, and splashing water on the nipa roof.

It still wasn’t helping. I asked if they've contacted the fire department. They said that the one in Panglao has been dispatched. I used my mobile to call 117. I was afraid the operator would hang up on me considering our emergency wasn’t in Manila, but he accommodated the call and asked for details. After I hung up, he even called me again to confirm that they've contacted other fire departments, including the one from Tagbilaran. I also texted Adrian Ayalin and Anna Puod, my friends from ABS-CBN News. Puod responded and vehemently asked me to stay at the beach where I'd be near the water. She said she's covered so many stories involving fires and people who tried to go back in and got trapped inside.

Then a truck with a water tank mounted on its back came rushing in from the beach club’s side entrance. We were relieved. Curiously, though, it continued toward the beach in an apparent road rage. I thought, perhaps they needed to siphon water from the beach. A few meters before plunging to the ocean, it got stuck on the dry edge of the sandy shore. When we asked the driver that was all about, we found out that the truck’s brakes failed. Stuck, we left the truck full of water by the beach, too far from the clubhouse to render any kind of help.

Finally, the fire trucks arrived. They hosed the burning roof down but the fire was already out of control. The ceiling beams started glowing red, threatening to give out. Two resort employees decided to break into the kitchen where the fire seemed to have started. He started dragging out the huge gas tanks inside. I told them to let the firemen take care of it, that the kitchen might cave in and trap them inside, but they were stubborn. Either that or they didn’t understand my Tagalog. Since they wouldn’t listen to reason, I told them to at least cover their mouths and noses with damp cloth lest they pass out inside the burning kitchen. They continued collecting the huge gas tanks. I knew it was stupid to go in with them, so I decided to wait by the kitchen door and dragged the tanks they've collected further away to a safer area, hoping to hasten the process as they proceeded to saving the other tanks.

This went on for a few more hours. The firemen contained the blaze though much damage had already been done.

What I found most curious is that the firemen let those employees risk their lives by going into the kitchen when they should be taking charge of the whole situation. One of them even approached me and asked if all the tanks had been saved (to which I answered yes, since at that time, the two valiant employees had hauled off all the gas tanks from the kitchen). Thankfully, there weren't any casualties. And good thing Jean and I had the chance to lounge around the clubhouse before it was rendered unusable by the inferno.









Having had enough adventure to last me a week, I decided to skip the scheduled trip to Balicasag, an island off Panglao. Jean, Cris and Poch went scuba diving morning 'til afternoon. When I woke up, they were preparing to go Tagbilaran to grant my request to go to Mass. We went to the Cathedral in front of the Bohol Capitol. Though I didn't understand a word of the ceremony, I thought it was a refreshing experience. I always enjoy hearing mass in local dialects (I've also heard it in Bicol and Cuyunon).

We had dinner at a grill restaurant and a night cap at Bo's Coffee, still near the capitol. We then rented a small jeep that took us back to the resort.

It was Jean's birthday the next day, Monday, July 16. We woke up really early so we could finish our sweep of the customary tourist sights in Bohol.

After a quick breakfast at Jollibee in Tagbilaran, we headed to Carmen to see the Chocolate Hills. It hasn't changed since the last time I saw it, so it wasn't that cool for me as it was for my travel buddies. I was, however, amused by the recent innovation at the viewing deck. There were photographers stationed there, hawking their services and printing photos for the exorbitant amount of PhP50 per 4R photo. We had our own cameras of course, but what amused me was that they were so adept in taking a particular kind of photo. Try hard as we might, we just couldn't get it right. We ended up asking the photographer to take our pictures. This is how mine came out:

The weekend I flew to Bohol to see the Chocolate Hills.

Soon as we got out of the viewing compound in Carmen, it started raining hard. We passed by the beautiful man-made forest shared by the towns Carmen and Bilar. We pulled over to take a quick picture with the beautiful mahoganies, then went on our way. We stopped by Carmen to see a hanging bridge suspended over the Loboc River, but decided to keep dry in our rented SUV and go straight to Loboc for lunch.

It was still raining when we hopped on the floating restaurant at the Loboc River. But instead of ruining our cruise upstream, the rain actually enhanced our experience at the beautiful, historic river. The view seemed more raw, more virginal. It was, to me, the best thing about Bohol.


There was an old man playing folk songs on the boat. The food was nothing to rave about, but then the food was really just an excuse to ride the boat. On our way upstream, we would pass by some kids playing by the riverbanks. Some of them would even jump from coconut trees or swing from a vine and free fall into the river, much like the WOW Philippines commercial that featured Regine Velasquez and those animated postcards. Some of these kids would even swim toward, our under our boat. Some went on board at the side. Without being asked, the tourists handed out food to the kids.

Our upstream cruise ends at the base of the rapids, where a rondalla-like band composed of adolescent Boholanos welcomed us by playing novelty songs, complete with dance numbers pa! The tourists took turns taking pictures with them and donating different amounts of money to their can. It was such an uplifting experience that on our way back, the tourists on our boat were all in a genial mood, waving to other tourists on board the oncoming floating restaurants.

After the Loboc River cruise, we bought a few souvenirs and stopped by a shop that had tarsiers in its backyard. We had our photos taken. We were particularly careful not to scare the tarsier with our cameras' flashes. I voiced out my desire to have a photo with the tarsier on my shoulder. To my surprise, the shop's owner took the tarsier and asked me to walk a little further away from the plant it was previously perched on. She put the little guy on my shoulder. I realized she asked me to walk away so I that it wouldn't jump back to its home. I asked if I could have another picture with the tarsier, and she generously granted my request. And I thought they were protective of their primate ambassadors. Here's that last photo:


After that, we made a few quick stops to two churches, the Loboc Church and the Baclayon Church in Tagbilaran, the second oldest church in the Philippines and the oldest one made of coral. We passed by one last souvenir shop and had our photos taken at the monument at Tagbilaran commemorating the blood compact between Datu Sikatuna and Miguel López de Legazpi.

We intended to have dinner at the Bohol Bee Farm that evening, but I was exhausted by our lightning tour of Bohol. My quick nap lasted till midnight, while Jean, Cris and Poch spent the rest of the day playing cards. We left early Tuesday morning, July 17. It was a really fun trip, with just the right amount contrast, an ample mix of fun, culture, and surprise.

But I'll have to go back again. I've yet to go dine at the Bee Farm. And as proven by my last trip there, Bohol will always be worth another visit :)

Simpsonized!

I've always loved "The Simpsons." Its irreverence, its wit, everything! It's one of the few shows that never gets old. To me, at least. Just like "Friends" (as opposed to "Seinfeld" and "Sex and the City," both of which I enjoy watching as well).

I just watched the movie last night. I loved it, but also thought it could've been better.

This, on the other hand, is me getting Simpsonized!...




I know it doesn't look a lot like me. And that I cheated by putting on sunglasses.

This one may be closer. As a disclaimer, let me just say that it's really hard to be realistic with this when you're the one making your own avatar. It's tough choosing which eyes or hair best looks like yours. I can't tell if I'm really being accurate, or if I'm actually trying to improve my 2D version, haha!

This is the best I came up with --->