Si Padre Damaso at Donya Consolacion

I am, for the record, a Catholic. Having said that, there are many things that I criticize the church for despite my religious faith.

As a college student, I consistently missed attending the Sunday mass. I thought it was an incommodious and unfair barometer of one's religious devotion. I used to justify my lack of commitment by saying, 'I have a personal relationship with my God.' As many street philosophers would argue, I thought it was pure hypocrisy to gauge one’s morality from his diligence in attending a weekly one-hour service. Not when real life is lived beyond the pews. What we do and how we are in the real world eclipses the relevance of the Sunday mass. (I must say though that later on, I realized that while it is right for all of us to have a 'personal' relationship with Him, I was erroneously invoking my flawed understanding of the celebration of mass as reason for my criticism of this custom. I have since reacquired the dedication to attend mass every week, finding nourishment in hearing the Gospel and renewed appreciation of the Homily now that I’m an adult.

I am also a huge critic of the Church allowing, or tolerating, Among Ed Panlilio’s run for Governorship of Pampanga. Like other events that pepper our history, it mocks the Constitution that explicitly imposes the separation of church and state but we are all complicit in contravening because of course, anything that has been sprayed with holy water is inherently correct, acceptable and redemptive. While I do not wish to question Among Ed’s competence as a government public servant, I still believe that he was not qualified. The fact that he has chosen to serve through the Church makes that issue moot. Contrary to what I’ve heard him proclaim in the past, being the governor of Pampanga is in fact a disservice to the Kapampangan, especially when it divergently contributes to the stunting of a people’s political and social maturity. Not when it further obscures the people’s understanding on why these political tenets are there in the first place.

Reproductive health is another issue in which I’ve always disagreed with the Church. I can understand their hard line-stance, and they are by all means entitled to it, but what I find unacceptable is how they use their influence on the government to hostage legislation and policies. I don’t even mind if they themselves took to the streets to express their opposition to the RH Bill.  But knowing the authority they wield and using it to publicly declare ‘dismay’ over President Noynoy’s stance and saying that further promotion of contraceptives could result in possible excommunication is akin to a threat. By all means, allow the Church to have a dialogue with the government to discuss why they think some forms of contraception are abortifacient, but the Church should also know when to stop and allow the government to carry on with its job without undeserved intimidation.

Those are three among the many things I tend to disagree with the Church, but truth be told, I like the Catholic Church more than I hate many of its actions and dogmas.

I sorta like Carlos Celdran too. I think it is laudable that he literally ‘walks the talk’ and does something tangible in making his Fellow-pinos renew their appreciation for our country’s heritage and culture through his walking tours. Much as I champion the same values, I regrettably fall short of calling it an advocacy because unlike him, I never had the guts to actually do something about it. The significance of mounting something that personal but massively influential cannot be gainsaid, and I can only wish there were more people from his ranks who would palpably contribute to uplifting the collective sense of Filipino identity, beyond wearing Team Manila shirts brandished with the stars and the sun of the Filipino flag.

So yes, that Carlos Celdran does have some guts. That’s something even more people have come to realize after that last incident when he marched inside the Manila Cathedral to disrupt an ongoing mass. It certainly takes guts to flash that ‘Damaso’ sign and demand that the Church STOP from meddling in government affairs, something I myself have wanted to scream out of exasperation but was never brave enough to do.

But while I welcome the attention his stunt has brought to the issue and the airing of the sentiment that many Catholics have on the Church and RH, I think the manner by which he did it is inexcusable. The bottom line was he disturbed a religious observance. Regardless of my feelings against the Church, I would never appreciate being disturbed by inappropriate showboating at a sacred moment when I am expressing my faith. It is this kind of insensitivity that we likewise detest in religious extremism, yet many of us seem to be just fine with it when the display comes from someone who shares our own faith or opinion. However we relish our freedom of expression, we must remember that it is not absolute. Isn’t religion the ultimate form of expression? Lest you find reason to not acknowledge that, the Constitution even went as far as explicitly upholding ‘free exercise and enjoyment of religious profession and worship, without discrimination or preference.’

Perhaps it is because I grew up in more modern and pragmatic times that cultivated in me an ability or willingness to customize the beliefs taught by the Church and reconcile them with my own. This, I notice, is also characteristic of my peers – people from my generation who belong to similar socio-economic backgrounds, educated in similar educational institutions and exposed to similar culture and influences. We are indeed radical if compared to the conservatism of religious institutions and those who come before us, but we criticize, debate and oppose not out of antipathy to what our faith or chosen religion represents. I know it is almost sacrilegious to do so since to disagree is almost a contradiction to the very concept of religion, but we are not pasaway for the sake of being pasaway. I’d like to think that we simply learned to inquire, discern and reason for ourselves, and if any, it only firms the conviction and value of our faith even more.

What Carlos Celdran did should not be honored for bravery. It was grandstanding, the penchant for which I always hated our politicians and church leaders, and as Celdran now proves, even their critics. In many ways, he was simply being pasaway, what with that placard and Jose Rizal costume. Carlos Celdran has since apologized, saying, “I apologize for being rude. But it was necessary for me to be rude.” I support Carlos Celdran and agree that he should not be sorry for the message he delivered. But as with the Church, I take exception to his actions, that rumpus he made in the Manila Cathedral. I don’t think it was ‘necessary’ for him to be rude. And for that reason, I will not be wearing a ‘Damaso’ shirt. He should not, under any circumstance, be imprisoned for what he believes in, but he surely deserves going to jail for what he did.

Presence of Mind

It's nevertheless unconscionable, but I appreciate this. It really did exemplify the prodigious burden of self-restraint, which should only be traded for the most urgent of reasons. I wish they would've left out "in the absence of government presence of mind" though. While evidently true, the crux of the matter is, during the coverage, for reasons I wouldn't have the temerity to declare on their behalf, self-censorship was overruled by lack of media presence of mind.

An Overlong Sharing To A Dear Friend

I recently read a friend's blog post about her frustrations from last year, and it elicited this email letter which I immediately wrote and sent to her. She recently replied expressing her appreciation, saying how it succeeded in making her feel she's not alone and adding howit read like a blog addressed only to her. So I decided to post it here so I can share it to few dear friends who visit this blog. Maybe it'll do to you what it did to me and my friend - comfort and empower me with the feeling that I'm not alone in my frustrations.

Hey, I just read your last three blog posts. I haven't been religiously blogrolling, or blogging for that matter, thus the delay.


I wish I was there so we can have coffee and chat... I feel bad that (at least in your 2009 entry), you're feeling increasingly frustrated. Sana lang it's all better now, with that volunteer work, and with your little boy going to daycare (if pushed through with it) to give you more time.


I kinda share your conundrum about why some people are able to adapt more and let go easier. Although I'm here now sa Pinas, I kinda wonder a lot about that as well when I'm in London.


I really see a lot of promise in staying in London, but somehow, I can't fully embrace the thought and I still feel like home is where my career ought to be. It's not really a problem, if you think about it, but I feel like it shouldn't be the case. It's as if I wouldn't be exploiting the opportunities available to me if I opt for that. I get an impression that a Pinas career would not be ambitious enough, or at least, not commensurate to the time and financial investment I made on my studies.


I have this feeling na if I stay in London, the climb is steeper and harder kase I'll be starting at the bottom with nothing but my education to back me up. Therefore, the climb will take longer. Nevertheless, the excitement, the city, the culture, the enrichment I get while there... It's just too tempting. And the fact that I can start on a blank slate and have a do over, wow. But can I still afford to do that at 30? I promised myself na taking time to study for 2 years abroad would be my last luho - and then I'd be all focused on being a responsible adult na. Earn a decent living that won't be subsidized by my inherited luxuries. I want to completely, genuinely fend for myself na.


And then, to add to that, there's this feeling na if I go back naman to the Philippines, I can simply pick up from where I left off. I was doing well already and was just starting to really make significant strides in my career when I left. Now, armed with new knowledge, I can carry on doing that. These steps I was about to take could now extend to crazy leaps. But then, I also end up thinking that that's only possible because Pinas is such a small pond. Or, perhaps more accurately, Pinas does not offer the possibilities London and the world offers. Furthermore, I always feel like I'm regressing when I'm home. I'm really happy here and I enjoy the luxury, the lifestyle, the comfort of having a solid support system, my own home, and most importantly, the company of my family and friends... but I also feel like I'm back to old horizons. Parang lumiliit na naman yung mundo ko and it shouldn't be that way. It shouldn't, right? Di ba dapat palaki ng palaki ang mundo mo? I feel like I'm falling off the wagon. The wagon that's laboriously taking me to a more difficult but ultimately more fulfilling path.


It's a paradox I face whenever I'm home for too long. The paradox that while home makes me happy and feel I'm back where I belong, at home, it's harder to get what I want. Perhaps coming home to things that make me feel secure means I'm also coming home to all my insecurities. So while I have a career to return to, I don't feel half as empowered as I do when I'm in London, even if realistically, objectively, and internally, I feel like it's twice as hard in London to get to where I've gotten to back in the Philippines, and harder twofold getting to where I want to be in life.


Suffice it to say that I crave for the best of both worlds, but I feel like I'm being immature wanting that every time reality sets in and the issues of practicality and feasibility of both paths are stacked up against each other. Sana nga ganon kadali na I can be here in Manila when I want, and London when I need to be there.


That's why I emailed. So much of what you wrote, especially in your post "My 2009", reflected my sentiments. You also mentioned how you wonder why it's so hard to find friends who share your pains. Why you can't embrace your new life the way other friends have, like lots of our other friends there who seem to be content and flourishing in their new plots. I know we're not exactly on the same boat. I'm just about to sail, whereas you've been on that journey. You're now on the other shore. I'm just walking up the plank of my rickety banca, and from here, I can see that on board, taking the boat with me, is fear. I fear making the wrong decision and being trapped in it, whereas you speak of feeling trapped in it already, even if ultimately, you have the choice to go back.


While it's not exactly the same as what you're going through, I suppose we share the same feeling of frustration and uncertainty. The same feeling of being in a tug-of-war. You feel like your hands are tied, when they're really not... but it might as well be, given the choices you end up making and continue to make. Yun yon e. You don't want to renege on the choice you made cause it's like you admit to making a mistake - that all this time spent after committing to that choice has been for naught. That, or it would be like admitting you're weak - because you weren't brave, and strong, and steadfast enough to hold on to the choice you made. That maybe, the rewards of the sacrifice have simply yet to come, but you've grown tired of waiting and have decided to give up. That's never easy to admit, is it? Not for us. At least, that's what I understand you to be going through. The difference is that with me, I'm just about to commit to a choice. With my studies due to finish soon, an ultimatum hangs. I need to ruminate and be sure of my next steps. I don't want to make a mistake. I don't want to be made to feel weak. I don't want to wait too long for my reward. I don't want to ever give up.


I hope that even though it's depressing, it makes you feel better that thousands of miles away from you, a dear, dear friend shares your agony. Even if it doesn't exactly do that, at least you can relish the thought that your writings have helped someone contemplate and articulate his own dilemmas. Making a sheet of paper or a computer screen throw back your thoughts at you is always a great way to hear what your heart and mind have to say amid an awful din of cynical feelings. It's even better when you have a trusted friend listening with you.


Loveya!




Raz.

A Break

Thank you God, for giving me a break.

Today, my London account was credited with £1,342.81!

That's how much money I lost to fraudulent direct debits from my account. How that happened in the first place, I still don't know, but I'm sure glad I found out before it got much worse.

Last Sunday, on my way to church with my cousins, I received an overseas call from my London bank's collections department because it appeared my account had been overdrawn. I couldn't believe it because I left it with enough money and I never used my debit card since coming back to the Philippines more than one month ago. I asked what the last transactions were, and none of them sounded familiar. She mentioned mobile phone accounts (notice the plural) and cable subscriptions, among other things. My heart raced as it dawned on my that these were not mine. Identity theft and account-hacking is quite common in the UK. I can now count myself as one of the victims.

It's a good thing that I left London with not much money in my ATM. I spent a huge amount paying for advanced rent on my room to cover for the months that I'd be here in the Philippines shooting my grad film. Besides, all money I had, I had to take and add to my film's production budget. As a result, I left just enough money to keep my account's required maintaining balance.

Because of that, it allowed my account to be completely overdrawn (read: zero balance) because of these automatic, unauthorized direct debits.

I asked the collections agent what I ought to do since this was clearly a cause for alarm - those transactions were definitely not by me and I wanted to stop it before more money got taken. She advised me to contact my bank.

The accounts specialists were helpful right off. They blocked these fraudulent direct debits that had been going on since August 2008.

August 2008! That's two years now! Just three months within my arrival in the UK! My friend who met up with me last Sunday evening asked how much money I lost. I didn't want to alarm her any further, so I said just a couple of hundred quid. Well, the truth is it's almost a hundred thousand pesos. It really is partly my fault for not being vigilant enough in scrutinizing every item in my account summary every month. Though to my defense, it was really difficult to detect cause they were small amounts that just accumulated over two years (some debits were as huge as £50 at a time). I guess I just never noticed because I use that same account's debit card for all my transactions. I almost never bring cash when I'm in London, and that makes it harder to monitor the spending and the balance after every card debit.

The bank people said that they'll start an investigation. When I asked, they said I didn't have to contact these companies who made direct debits anymore. If all went well, I could expect to see that money deposited back into my account by Tuesday, after two working days. They also made me call a security company for consultation and to help me regarding my problem. This company, Red24, gave me tips on how to increase security protocols for my bank accounts. However, when I asked if they're optimistic about me getting my money back, they said that there's no guarantee. At best, I'd get it back in no time. At worst, I would have to take it to court and find ways to prove that I really didn't make these transactions - something that looked extremely difficult as it seemed like I've been a victim of identity cloning (for all these direct debits to be happening consistently and over a long period of time). After that, there really wasn't anything else to do but to be stressed, and wait.

I avoided checking my account cause I didn't want to be disappointed, but today, I finally did... and there it was - my money back! I really didn't expect it to be resolved that quickly, and efficiently - though I'm crazy glad that it was.

It's a rough way to learn a lesson, but well worth it. I'm just thankful for the break!

Something to lift my spirit up amid the chaos of grad film preprod :)

Preview

The November issue of "PREVIEW." Thanks to Mel for the article, and to Kar and Jane for the scans.

(Click on photo to enlarge and read the article)

Fes

After two days in Marrakech, we woke up early the next day to catch the train to Fes. I've always loved train rides so I actually looked forward to it even though we were effectively 'wasting' our day just traveling to Fes.

There is a robust rivalry that exists between Fes and Marrakech. We first learned about it from one of our taxi drivers in Marrakech, but even if he hadn't mentioned it, we were bound to find out. When we got to Fes, the tour guides and locals we met often boasted of the bounties and beauty of Fes, almost always at the expense of Marrakech. In many ways, though, I have to admit it was well deserved.

Off the bat, Fes struck me as more conservative compared to Marrakech. Perhaps it was partly due to its repute as the spiritual or religious capital of Morocco. Also, people here spoke less English compared to the people in Marrakech.

Unfortunately, we only had a day to experience the entire city, which was evidently ludicrous. We arrived there at night and had to leave two mornings after. With Marrakech, I felt like I've become friends with. With Fes, I felt like I was merely introduced. Fes is so rich with culture and mystery that I've already resolved to come back to get to know her better.

Not like I needed any more convincing. Morocco had me at hello.

The Traveler (A response to Laida's question... 'Backpacker Ka Ba?')

My now Dubai-based great friend Laida linked this blog entry in her post recently. I liked it cause it provoked me to think, especially since I've always loved traveling and I've been having a fair share of it lately.

Ako? Hindi. I was never a backpacker and never will be one, I think. I can be pretty koboy (cowboy) if needed, but I wouldn't easily give up comforts if it is accessible and affordable naman. I don't find shame in admitting I like taking photos, but despite being touristy in that sense, I revel in the interaction with the locals and being shown around by one. That's the immersion I crave and aspire for in each of my travels - which, if the article is to believe, is surprisingly not present in the backpacking culture after all (at least not always).

What Babakoto (the blog owners) says in the article is that 'backpackers' don't refer to what it used to anymore. The term, and its accompanying identifiers (i.e., among other things, the backpack) has come to mean a superficial lifestyle detached from the simpler meaning it used to have - that they are people who travel with their backpacks in search of adventures and in pursuit of unplanned experiences.

"Backpackers" now refer to a community of people with a particular look, custom and conduct. (Babakoto writes about this in detail. Take time to read it, it's an entertaining observational account). Let me say early on that I take exception to that (and the coming) generalization. Nevertheless, based on my encounters, I do tend to agree with most of what was written. That description tends to be true for most Western backpackers I've come across in most of my trips, though they are admittedly far less annoying than the average tourist-tourist. I'm particularly peeved when the latter (the tourist-tourists) make no effort to speak the language, speaking louder in their same un-understandable English when lost in translation, and act as if they're clients with the locals providing services. I have to say that most backpackers do behave better than that, though not always less colonially.

Even more interesting to me is that it's also true for many Pinoy backpackers I've encountered. Ilang beses na nakakasabay ko sa mga local biyahe ko yung backpackers na alam na alam yung pupuntahan nila. They have inside knowledge of the locale: the language, customs, where to go, eat, drink, and snatch the best quality drugs. They too find satisfaction in not being the average bakasyonista (vacationer). They've been here before, or at the very least, they're not here for shallow reasons like seeing tourist attractions. They do shun the cursory trip to the hanging coffins, Chocolate Hills, henna tattoo stall or Burnham Park. Yet frequently, they are still regarded as outsiders. A much friendlier bunch who discriminate less, perhaps, but outsiders nonetheless. In the article, Babakoto wrote:

"...in the unfortunate situation that (they) have to take a local bus, (they) seclude (themselves) as much as possible from the local people by wearing (their) Rayban sunglasses and putting the earphones of (their) iPod in (their) ears. Subsequently (they) sink unashamed in (their) seat, and put (their) feet with coal black soles, at the arm rest of the seat in front of (them)."

It's funny because that image is so vivid, whether talking about foreign or local backpackers. It is this lack of discretion, however welcomed and knowledgeable about the locals the backpacker is, that makes him no different from the average tourist. The fact that he stands out makes him an outsider, and the sad part of it is however he thinks otherwise, he still is.

All this, of course, is arguable. One might also say that my agreement with the article is a reaction to non-inclusion, especially since there seems to be an existing condescension backpackers have toward other kinds of travelers. However, I find validity infered by the Babakoto article. It is indeed curious that while backpackers celebrate the value of travel and discovery, it seems quite ironic that they make great effort in maintaining exclusivity and the subscription to an image, to the extent that they often miss out on an undeniably important aspect of travel: the 'nuanced understanding' of cultures, places, and people previously unknown.

Once I took an online quiz once which concluded that I'm a 'leisure traveler.' I suppose that's true. Di ako backpacker-cool! I don't belong to that community. Pero okay lang naman.

That's not to say that I'm any better, but I do aspire for experiences that transcend that of an outsider. I don't always succeed. In fact, often times, I fail miserably. After all, it's hard not getting overwhelmed by sights, sounds and people that confront you for the first time. I remember how in Camiguin, we befriended a local who owned a very modest videoke-bar-sari-sari store. We kept coming back to her place to drink and enjoy the videoke. We truly felt welcome and liked. By that virtue, one could think that he's a cut better than the average turista, but all we truly were was an inconvenience - keeping her up past her normal closing (and sleeping) time. However she enjoyed our singing and genial gestures, we were outsiders and her time with us was a an aberration in her life.

What I can say is I definitely try to transcend being an outsider and find fulfillment in a genuine immersion. On another occasion naman, while sharing bottles of beer with our tour guides in Batanes, I remember them telling me and my friends:

"E iba naman kayo, syempre. Quality tourists kayo e."

Quality nga, tourists pa rin! And there I thought we were being backpacker-ish na. Still, I guess that's a step closer to the kind of interaction I aspire for. What I'm really saying is that being a backpacker does not guarantee that you're better than an average tourist - not in that respect. It doesn't really matter how you prefer to go about your journeys, but it would sure be great if however you do it, you come out changed and inspired by it. That's the one aspect that doesn't always survive in all of it e. Whether it changes you by galvanizing you to change something in the community you visit or the one you belong to, making you less of a bigot, or simply making you more understanding of those who are, what would be most ideal is that you change. Otherwise, we squander the privilege travel affords - connecting with and learning from people and experiences.

House Life

I've always been proud of my house because it successfully evolved into a genuine home. It feels lived in and comfortable. It reflects my personality and makes me feel safe. If I were to share my thoughts on being a home owner, I'd say those are the things one should strive for more than the aesthetics.

When I went home last Christmas, Ais asked me if it would be possible for them to feature the house in her show. How on earth could I refuse my travel-birthday-buddy cum interior designer? :) Naturally, I texted her a big 'Yes!' My only apprehension was that the house might not be dressed up for television. It was to be her first feature role on TV (her TV debut came a few months earlier, when Proudly Filipina used my house as a set for spiels and their interview with Agot). Aissa's crew came over in the afternoon (of my birthday) when my house is at its glorious best. They shot this episode of HOUSE LIFE hosted by Tessa Prieto-Valdez and aired it on January 5, 2009. The stunning segment host you'll see in the clip below is my good, great friend, Aissa Gonzalez.

I miss being home. More so now because it's spring break and I'm supposed to be relaxing and recharging, yet much as I love my little room here on Bravington Road, it's a far cry from Tierra de la Torre (the nickname I've dubbed my house - I'm schmaltzy that way). I miss my bed, lutong bahay, the warm sunshine through my bedroom windows, the cool afternoon breeze in the balcony, my DVDs, my books, the cool wooden floors of my room, the cool Vigan tiles, my car, and Tita Heide's reliable company.

Aissa put it best: It's my little oasis in the city.

FTW!

The last term had been unbelievably hectic for me that it took me quite a while before I was able to relish the fact that I have been given the Box Office Entertainment screenwriting award from the Guillermo Mendoza Memorial Foundation. I was actually in class last March 13 when messages from friends started pouring in congratulating me after they heard the news on TV. I haven't even seen an episode of SNN (Showbiz News Ngayon or Showbiz News Now - the Pinoy E! News) until my cousin Grace forwarded me the link to the following video (zip forward to 04.18s for the actual announcement!)

The first time I ever skirted an award was back in 2007, when the Philippine Movie Press Club (PMPC) nominated me and my co-writers Van and Carmi for our YOU ARE THE ONE screenplay. I knew we wouldn't win since we were up against the likes of Direk Joey Reyes who was also nominated for Kasal Kasali Kasalo. Nevertheless, I decided to attend the ceremony. I figured it might be the only chance I'll have to be nominated for an award. That wasn't a self-deprecating thought. At that point, Star Cinema had been relegating me to romance-comedies and frankly, that's not usually the route that leads you to an acceptance speech.

I also wanted to go since Direk Cathy said she was attending. It was also her first time to be nominated, you see, so we were both quite excited at the thought of experiencing what it was like. On the day of the 2007 Star Awards for Movies, my good friend Norman graciously agreed to attend the ceremony at the UP Theater with me. We were actually late as Laida and I met up in Town Center earlier. She even helped me pick out the purple outfit I wore to the event, since I didn't have time go home and change.

It was an extraordinary experience attending that. It felt to me like my membership in the mainstream filmmaking community had somehow been legitimized. Prior to that, I had only moved within the back rooms of Star Cinema, Cinemalaya and a small corner of the independent movement. Norms and I soaked up the unique privilege of seeing so many people from the industry in one place. We were amused by the kind of characters they were, how they spoke, how they moved, and how an awarding ceremony was like. When the event finally ended, we took pictures for posterity.

With this recent award, I have to say that I did have an inkling that it might come. Or maybe, 'I hoped it would' puts it more accurately. A VERY SPECIAL LOVE was the Nth incarnation of a story I wrote for John Lloyd and Sarah whose working title was "If The Shoe Fits." I kinda knew I was on to something special because it was instantly approved when I first pitched it. I enjoyed writing the script so much that I felt its huge potential to be a blockbuster early on. The big bosses' reaction to the script confirmed that too. Knowing that it would be helmed by my long-time collaborator Direk Cathy whose metier was the rom-com also assured me of its success.

That's why I also felt really bad that I was going to miss the shoot for A VERY SPECIAL LOVE. I had already moved to London by the time they started that I didn't get to go to any shooting day. I usually try to be on location as often as I can because it's a great opportunity to learn and feel all glitzy, what with popular stars within arm's length. This was a particularly special case, however, because as I've written before, AVSL was to be my first time to be credited as a solo writer.

A VERY SPECIAL LOVE eventually realized all the hopes and expectations I and Star Cinema had for it. It broke box office records to become the third highest grossing local movie of all time. Its sequel, YOU CHANGED MY LIFE, eventually became THE highest grossing local movie ever.

I was familiar with the awards from the Guillermo Mendoza Memorial Foundation, but I also knew that our film faced tough competition from another Star Cinema film. I used to excitedly think about the prospect of AVSL winning all the Box Office Entertainment awards, but since it was becoming more and more likely that we wouldn't, I honestly forgot about it. I guess it helped that I was preoccupied with school work.

Thus the utter surprise when texts about the award came. Soon, Facebook messages from friends also came in (thanks to Norms, Batch Sherlyn, Kristel, Ritz, Kris B, Tia, Mars, Rosa, JDV, Natz, Joyce, Mahal, Thesa, Shi, Peachy, Concep, Aimee, Jacque, Caye, and RR). My friend Lara who is based in Japan and the namesake of Sarah Geronimo's character in the movie even saw the SNN episode on TFC.

I am finally starting to wrap my mind around the idea that I have just received my FIRST award as a screenwright. The ecstasy is slowly creeping in as well, especially since it's spring break and there's really nothing much to do here but think about what has been happening in the world while I've been recluse at LFS.

Perhaps, even more exciting for me now, is finding out that A VERY SPECIAL LOVE also reaped nominations from THIS year's STAR AWARDS for Movies, comprised of movie, director, movie actor, cinematographer, editor, production designer, musical scorer, sound engineer and...! Original movie screenplay of the year :)

The prospect of winning is, to be quite honest, exhilarating. I'm not even going to hazard an estimate of my chances. I just want to enjoy and share this excitement with my friends! After all, what really makes me happy is when I get acknowledgment from the people who matter to me :)

25 Random Things About Raz

Once you've been tagged, write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you.

Choose 25 people to be tagged, including those who tagged you.

Lemme just say that this is really hard. I blog about myself so much I think I’m running out of new interesting things to say about myself. That’s why a lot of what I write here I ripped off from those who tagged me :)

***

1. Despite vowing to learn how to cook here in London, I now survive on meals out and microwave meals (I am eating one right now e, hehe). I am therefore renewing my vow to cook for when I settle back in the Philippines. I promise to make use of my show kitchen na.

2. I make bad first impressions. I’m extremely shy and insecure with strangers, which for some reason leads people to think I’m aloof. It takes a while before I warm up new acquaintances, but I eventually do. I’ve become really close friends with lots of people who first hated me when they first met me.

3. I’m allergic to seafood (especially shell fish). Ironically, my mom craved for talangka (small crabs) during her pregnancy.

4. I’m godfather to so many kids, I’ve lost count. My first godson was my cousin. I was just 3 years old then. I don’t know why the priest allowed that but it was legit. My name was on my cousin’s baptismal certificate. With the others, it was because I was often the alternative to my Dad, who used to be the mayor of his hometown. They either couldn’t get hold of my dad or already had him as a principal sponsor in their weddings, so they I was the next choice for their child’s godfather. Honestly, I’ve lost track of them. I don’t think I’m exaggerating in estimating I’ve more than 50 godsons & goddaughters. My close friends need not worry though… yung inaanak ko nang may isip na ko, I remember very well :)

5. Asked to choose between being deaf, mute, or blind, I’d choose to be mute. That’s not an informed decision ha. I reserve the right to change my mind on that.

6. I enjoy road trips with friends and cousins, especially them spontaneous ones. I particularly love it when the company I have stay up with me (singing along songs or having tired conversations of the same things).

7. I NEVER say no to videoke (that's 'karaoke' to those not from the Philippines).

8. Generally, I’d rather sleep than eat. Takaw-tulog ako. I can sleep 14 hours straight, although I also stay up long hours. I’ve always said that it would be perfect if days had 36 hours in them, cause I’m comfortable staying up 24 hours straight, but also need half a day to recharge.

9. I’m more sentimental than I care to admit. I can cry watching movies and MMK episodes, listening to country songs, and reading novels.

10. Sometimes, I wake myself up crying because of a dream, then fall back to sleep again. Just last night, I woke myself up laughing. As in, I was chuckling out loud.

11. I love the outdoors. I’m very physically active, and able, but not really very fit. How to explain that? Hmmm… Imagine this: I’d be sprinting all over one moment, outrunning everyone, working all the muscles in my body, being all flexible, strong and impressive. And then my muscles would be cramping for minutes.

12. I don’t think I ever regretted anything in my life. That sounds like I’m waxing philosophical, but I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately and I really think there isn’t any. Many things in my life didn’t go according to plan, choices I made that weren’t the best or the right one after all, but I always survive them and get changed by them, and often in a good way (so I’d like to think). Like when I studied law. Someone told me that I could’ve started my movie career much earlier if I hadn’t, but then I wouldn’t have met three of my closest friends and go to that Fellowship program in Singapore. I hope that qualifies me as a glass-half-full kinda guy.

13. I get embarrassed by people embarrassing themselves. I have to turn away, close my eyes, block my ears, turn the TV off, or flee the room altogether.

14. Writing isn’t something I particularly like. I kinda just stumbled upon it. I was never the go-to scriptwriter (or director, for that matter) back in high school and college. The only reason I worked and trained as a writer in a film company is because it was the only opening available when I was looking for a job (after filing for my leave in Law School).

15. I was in Law school for one year and half a sem. I filed for LOA a few weeks after midterms. Until now, I don’t think Tia, my seatmate and close friend, has forgiven me for my abrupt decision.

16. I'm an only child with a million cousins and friends.

17. I realize I don’t have a singular, definitive, personal hero, the way others look up to Barack Obama, Aung San Suu Kyi, or Tony Meloto (or whoever). I really admire them and aspire for lofty goals like what they’ve achieved, but also feel distant (detached?) from them. I’m more inclined to look up to friends or people I know or with whom I have access. The good thing about that is it releases me from inhibitions in setting goals. It inspires me to just work hard and expect a pay off because I have ordinary people like me for paragon.

18. Picking up from 17… my parents are significantly flawed individuals, but I take a lot after them and I’m mighty proud of them.

19. My sensibilities are extremely pop, and that embarrasses me to no end. It was only in college when my taste evolved and occasionally went off the middle of the road – thanks to cooler and more sophisticated friends. Naks!

20. I’ve been told that I was a Viennese poet who wrote sonnets in my past life.

21. Nothing disappoints me more than friends disappointing me. I’m really patient with friends, because I know I require a lot of patience. My loyalty’s rock solid, but the trust I repose is fragile.

22. I am thinking of adopting a child within the next coupla years.

23. Over the years, I’ve owned and lost 4 Nokia 8910’s; a couple more mobile phones of various models; a Pentax camera; dozens of wallets, spectacles and sunglasses; 3 ipods; a Mac powerbook; and my Rav 4. My Rav 4 was stolen when I was still living in Katipunan, and my laptop was in it (among many other things).

24. I have never been on a date. There might have been occasions when I did but didn’t know that I was in one.

25. I sign my signature upside down – and that’s really because my Mom has a propensity for forgery.

Talkin' 'Bout A Revolution

Here's an absorbed, albeit very long conversation I had with Chrissie.

I read the book and she watched the film, and this discussion sprung from it. I thought it was worth sharing, especially to those who have similar or contrasting thoughts about the story. I just think it's mighty precious when something stirs you up the way this story did me and Chrissie, though you probably will have to have an insight on topic for you to appreciate this.

Warning to those who haven't seen or read Revolutionary Road. The following transcript contains materials which might be considered spoilers :)

rzfdtwr
Btw, I finished RRoad last night
My off hand thought right now is that it's mighty hard to make this into a film.

Chrissie
"finished"?
YOU WATCHED IT OFF THE INTERNET NO?

rzfdtwr
NO!

Chrissie
OH THE BOOK YOU MEAN
It's like the most depressing thing ever no?
How'd you find the book?

rzfdtwr
Haha, well, I thoroughly enjoyed it. If enjoy can be even be said.
I'm so impressed by Yates. Ang galing nya magsulat. And I"m not just jumping on the bandwagon here. Sobrang galing nya mag articulate ng thoughts, considering how internal so much of this story is.

Chrissie
I can't chime in because I haven't read it. Hehe.
Well ni-thank naman ni Kate sa Yates sa kanyang speech. Haha.

rzfdtwr
And these characters, they're so vivid on paper!

Chrissie
Totoo?

rzfdtwr
I loved it, but like I said, I imagine it to be mighty hard to translate into film.

Chrissie
Well, hindi ko tuloy majudge ang performances ni Kate and Leo ... if they gave justice to the characters. But they were both so ... hatable and likeable at the same time.

rzfdtwr
Kasi nga, I find it so internal, the setting so bleak and unfilmic. Feeling ko nga, if not for the fact na it's a period piece, malamang, ang boring nito on film e.

Chrissie
Eh diba specialty ni Mendes ang suburbian setting?

rzfdtwr
Kasi it's all house, office, occasional bars, ganyan.

Chrissie
So looks-wise, its very pretty and polished.

rzfdtwr
Haha, yeah... but even the story's not that colorful kasi.

Chrissie
Exactly.

rzfdtwr
It's so domestic, TOO much even.

Chrissie
Ang monotone ng story.

rzfdtwr
Di katulad ng Am Beauty. The characters at least are more quirky.

Chrissie
It's like one whole movie about the disintegration of a marriage. Walang mga peaks and lows. Puro lows.

rzfdtwr
And even the turn of events. Dito, sobrang real lang talaga. There's the point of admiration.

Chrissie
When you see the movie, we'll have this discussion again. Kasi magkaiba tayo ng perspectives from which we are judging RR.
Well, you know na how I feel about the movie.
I didn't LOVE it

rzfdtwr
I LOVE the book. But now pa lang, I can already safely say na making a movie out of this might not be a great idea.
At least, not in the context of a Kate-Leo-Sam movie.

Chrissie
feeling ko lang talaga naghanap sila ng performance movie, alam mo yon?

rzfdtwr
Shempre there's that whole business of a long awaited reunion di ba.

Chrissie
Like "let's see, what would be the total opposite of titanic? where we can show off our acting chops?"

rzfdtwr
If for that, yes. I guess that justifies it. Cause yeah, these characters are so layered and complex.

Chrissie
Despicable ba si Frank Wheeler sa book?

rzfdtwr
Hmmm... Not exactly. They're both neurotic e.
Pathetic is more like it, sa book.
Kasi, he has aspirations, pero it is just revealed that he's nowhere near his delusions of himself.

Chrissie
Kasi I couldn't bring myself to despise him sa movie. Hahaha.
Sobrang naawa ako sa kanya.
And kay April. Pero foul talaga ang ginawa nya sa end.

rzfdtwr
Hmmm... Sa book, hindi foul.

Chrissie
Si April?

rzfdtwr
At least in my opinion. I think, they're victims of their complexities.
Kasi ang coward ni Frank. Si April naman, ang lofty ng demands.
Though they both fed each other those things.
Shet, I feel so scholarly discussing this, hahahaha...

Chrissie
Hahaha.

rzfdtwr
But anyway, that's my take on it.

Chrissie
It's almost like I had to pick a side.

rzfdtwr
You can't help but e.
You'll really try.

Chrissie
But they both make good points.
Pero natamaan ako sa sinabi ni April
NAKS.

rzfdtwr
Which?

Chrissie
Kasi tama naman si Frank na, "I have the backbone to not run away from my responsibilities..." chorva.
Pero nung sinabi ni April na "It takes backbone to lead the life you want", sobrang natamaan ako.
HAHAHA.

rzfdtwr
But you know what, the truth is, it's as much for him as for her.

Chrissie
I know.

rzfdtwr
And he what he fails to embrace is the fact na there is cowardice playing into the whole dynamics. Tapos, his refusal to acknowledge it, parang pride na hindi.
But whatever it is, the end result is, he ends up compounding the problem by leading April on with false hopes.
ON her part kasi, she thinks he just needs the space, the push, taking his time. E hindi naman pala.
So may treachery, kung tutuusin.
She naman can't find the compassion to see how demanding it all is.
And siguro nga, she's being a bit selfish not giving him the least credit he deserves man lang.

Chrissie
Wow, treachery.
I think she was super selfish.

rzfdtwr
But then, it's chicken and egg. You don't know who started it all.
Isipin mo ha, he lulled her in with a promise of all this.
Then when it degenerates, he doesn't man up naman.

Chrissie
Maganda ang to follow your dreams, pero if you have kids and all na ... parang you have to adjust rin naman. Which is not to say you should abandon your dreams.

rzfdtwr
ZACTLY! Kasi, hindi naman impossible ang sinasabi ni April e.

Chrissie
Hindi nga.

rzfdtwr
Isipin mo, at the core of it is Frank's insecurity kung may patutunguhan ba if ever yung 'dream' kuno. Kasi he doesn't really have any thing concrete to aim for.

Chrissie
E kasi nga he's the "man"! May presssure! If they go to Europe, April will work for the both of them. Haller, nakaka-emasculate.
Whereas if he stayed, e di may promotion pa sha. Haha.

rzfdtwr
Yeah... That's her concession.
Ewan ko how it was in the movie, but here in the book, may factor kasi talaga na he presented himself a certain way to her e. SO alam mo yon, may false promise?

Chrissie
Ah, oo.

rzfdtwr
And not confronting it, and hiding from it (kasi nga ang emasculating), it's him not being TRULY man enough.
Kasi di ba, as a couple, kung talagang walang hope na pala yon dahil sa di mo kaya... sabihin mo na lang.
Cause in the end, you just end up leading her on all the more. She'll never abandon that desire or hope.

Chrissie
Hehe. Oo.

rzfdtwr
Even si Frank e. It's, sige, let's POSTPONE. Not really, ‘di ko na yan kaya e.’

Chrissie
Both naman sila at fault.
I guess I just felt for Frank more.

rzfdtwr
Yeah, I can see why. And I did feel for him too.

Chrissie
Kasi ... I don't like it if you just give up. "Give up", because things didn't go your way.

rzfdtwr
Pero naisip ko lang, he never did try to solve the core problem of that situation.

Chrissie
Hindi ko alam if the dialogue is the same sa movie though.
Feeling ko kasi walang mas hurtful to a guy than saying na he's "not a man". And April would say that to Frank a LOT of times.

rzfdtwr
Hmmm... that part in the trailer where he says, he didn't run from his responsibility, wala sa book yon.

Chrissie
TOTOO?

rzfdtwr
Hmm, no. Not that way.

Chrissie
Yun kasi ang dating sa akin ni Frank. Like, he's weak and all but he's trying.

rzfdtwr
Ahhh... Yes, I see why you see that.
Me naman, ang nakikita ko there is a misplaced sense of what's strong and not. Parang, to be really strong, you'd own up and set things right for the whole family.
And that includes calibrating their expectations especially if it's starting to corrode the foundations na. The fact that they continue to go by expectations set long before and you've long abandoned pala, as head of the family.

Chrissie
So you're saying na the shit would not have gone down if Frank had just said from the start na "I don't want to go to Paris"

rzfdtwr
Yeah, because the truth is, he didn't. At least sa book, yun ang nadeduce ko.

Chrissie
E kasi naman si April eh.

rzfdtwr
HAHAHA

Chrissie
Parang ... how can you say 'no' to her?
Alam mo yon?

rzfdtwr
True, true... Pero yun nga e, chicken and egg. He never set her in her proper place kasi.

Chrissie
Shempre you want to make her happy and she had so much hope and happiness when she broached the subject. And I think Frank REALLY did want to do it.
Like, "Game, let's do this!"

rzfdtwr
Yun na nga... ang pleaser nya.
And in the end, he makes false promises he never really truly felt he can live up to.

Chrissie
Tapos later on nag-flip-flop na sha

rzfdtwr
There I think therein lies his biggest mistake.
For her naman, I just think she's a tough nut. Her ways, ganyan.
Pero, I'm not sure she can be blamed, because that's precisely what Frank fell in love with sa kanya.

Chrissie
She's mejo ... not motherly.
And hindi sha compassionate.
Like, she's compassionate when it's convenient for her.

rzfdtwr
But the difference is this: She never wanted to be in that setup with a child. Na may anak, I mean. And she was honest about it.
And even wanted to do something about it (I'm not moralizing here a...)

Chrissie
But what did she want them to do about it? Get rid of the kids? E nanjan na yan eh

rzfdtwr
Hmmm…I'm not naman espousing abortion ano... pero in the context of their culture and society, that was an option.
Kumbaga, si Frank, nung nag-no sya, it's not on moral grounds kasi.
Which would've been more acceptable.
I mean... dun, makikita na natin na maling match ito to begin with.

Chrissie
But I mean, yung moving to the city, having a second kid. It's not like April did not have a hand in making those decision.
Tapos ngayon she's saying na "OOPS, I hate this life pala."
AY to the suburbs pala.
So si Frank parang, "Ah.. okay ... sige..."Kamusta naman yon?

rzfdtwr
Sa book kasi, it's more like, they settled into that life na because nothing was taking it to another place anyway. There was no move from Frank's part, at any point, to revive plans that they'd take according to who they believed they were.
So dun mo nakikita all the more na Frank was really being a coward all that time. Na he was all talk but can't really back his words up with real action.
And he kept playing at it, condescending and all while they lived on RRoad. SO that keeps the hope in April alive.
Kaya ang pungent ng false promise sa akin.

Chrissie
Hindi naman ganyan si Leo e
HAHAHA.

rzfdtwr
HAHAHAHAHAHA
So lumabas din.

Chrissie
Basta ang "vulnerable" kasi ni Leo.

rzfdtwr
Hahaha... you just can't imagine Leo being all that.

Chrissie
Tapos ang galing ni Kate.
Kasi one minute I love her, tas the next, parang "ANOBA STOP BADGERING HIM!"
Dapat basahin ko siguro yung book.

rzfdtwr
While reading the book, I kept picturing their FACES! Grabe. Perfect sila!
But not because they're weak and/or evil. But you just know na kayang kaya nila to.

Chrissie
Hahaha. Tapos when Leo cries, he cries like a little boy. Yung nagcu-crumple talaga yung face? Tapos hindi papogi at all.
Hindi sila papogi at paganda.

rzfdtwr
I can imagine that from the book. Saka that feeling of, hmmm... I'm all that, dun sa mga moments ni Frank when he's starting to regain his sense of old self. It's so Leo.

Chrissie
Basta, may part sa movie where Leo
ESTE Frank
tells April na "You love me, and that's the point"
Tapos sabi ni April "No, that's not the point. Because I LOATHE you..
GRABE. Sobrang naiyak si Leo
I mean, si Frank
HAHAHAHA

rzfdtwr
Hahaha... yeah, there's that part in the book too. Pero abridged na ata yan.

Chrissie
Nainis ako kay Kate non.

rzfdtwr
Hahaha... me too.

Chrissie
Na parang "O, ba't di mo na sha love? Because he won't move you guys to Paris?!"
HAHAHA
OIST, teka mag-internet lecture na kami
SOrry to be abrupt. HAHA.

rzfdtwr
Hahahaha, sure. I can't wait to watch the movie.

Chrissie
Let me know when you do! Yung performances nila ay worth the price of admission. Regardless of whether you like the movie or not. Haha.
So I guess Team April Wheeler ka. Hahaha.

rzfdtwr
Di naman.

Chrissie
Team Frank Wheeler ako.

rzfdtwr
Hahaha... Team Kate.

Chrissie
Or maybe Team Leo.

rzfdtwr
HAHAHAHAHA

Chrissie
HAHAHAHA

rzfdtwr
Osha. I'm posting this conversation in my blog, by the way, hahahaha... Seeya! Hi to Karkar

Chrissie
Hello rin daw sa iyo.

rzfdtwr
Go study!

And I guess it's apparent that it's really just two fans raving lengthily about their favorite actors, hiding behind the pretense of an informed, spirited discussion.

Let this simply serve as an indirect endorsement of the book and the film then :)

UPDATE:













This was taken in the evening of the European premiere of Revolutionary Road in Leicester Square. Kate & Leo themselves were there (without Sam Mendes) last Sunday (18.01.2009). As much as I'm tempted to lie and say that I did see them (no one will know any better anyway), the truth is mass finished at 7.30PM that when I got there, the red carpet entry was done.

Still, I consider it a personal milestone to be in the same country and breathing space at the same time as them two :)

Life In A Bag

One of my favorite exercises at LFS was in Kevin Hull's directing class. It was called "Life In A Bag." Armed with a DV camera, we were sent out with the mission to get strangers to spill out the contents of their bags and in so doing, spill intimate details about themselves. After a brief orientation on how to work our video and sound equipment, my partner Mike and I immediately scoured the cobble streets of Covent Garden on the hunt for potential subjects.

Both Mike and I confessed to not being good at approaching strangers. We spent our first thirty minutes just standing around and occasionally stalking people who looked kind enough to indulge us in our unusual request. Suffice it to say we were unsuccessful in our first few attempts. We finally scored when we met a kind looking 50-year old man resting in St. Paul's Church's lovely courtyard (the Actors' Church situated right across the Covent Garden Market). The man had an impressive looking SLR and was quick to volunteer that he was a photography enthusiast. He was obviously a tourist and had a heavy backpack with him. Imagining the wealth of information he'd share with us, Mike convinced the old man to grant us an interview. I volunteered to operate the camera since it was Mike who sealed the deal.

It went well, that interview, though it wasn't as good as we would've wanted. James Nash, the photographer tourist, did answer our questions, but he was clearly reticent. Soon, we said our goodbyes. The gracious old man handed us his card as he bid us farewell, and it was only then that Mike and I found out that he was actually a reverend.

When my turn came, Mike and I have wandered into Trafalgar Square. We were certain we'd find a willing subject for me amongst the hundreds of people who frequent the spot over which the London National Gallery imposingly looms.

It was there that I approached a beautiful middle-aged woman named Yena. Her features easily gave her away as Latin American, but I didn't immediately assume that she was a tourist. Not even when she spoke English with a bit of difficulty. This was London after all, melting pot of all melting pots. I introduced myself as a film student and showed her my ID. After a few more pleas, she agreed to be interviewed. Mike quickly set up the camera as I started getting acquainted with her.


I found out that Yena was from Colombia. She is here in London pursuing her Master’s Degree. Like me. She went straight to emptying her bag, perhaps hoping to get the interview done with. She fished out a bottle of water, a hair brush, an emptied sandwich bag, and a map – for navigating London's most popular spots. She only arrived the Sunday before and wanted to see the sites before her classes started in two weeks. She disclosed that she's here on a scholarship from the school where she worked as a librarian.

I enjoyed talking to Yena, learning more and more about her as she fished more and more from her bag. A book by her favorite author. Yena said not many people in her country read which is why she valued her books and never left home without one. Prior to becoming a librarian, she taught preschool kids before and even authored a textbook. A UK sim card. For calling her 23-year old son, her only child, who was studying Biology back in their home country. I found out that she’s divorced from her husband, and that she’s excited about her future. While she’s anxious about her stay here in London, she looked forward to being appointed as the library’s Director when she finishes her MA.

I felt a genuine connection with Yena. In Yena and her son, I saw my mom and myself. Just them two in the family now, where a minimum would usually be three. I also felt Yena and I were on the same boat: Students toiling to have better prospects for their careers. Strangers on a foreign land struggling to settle in their new home.

Yena telling me that she had two more things to show me, after I wrapped our interview and gave her my thanks.
A pocket mirror... and chapstick. My embarassing response? "To keep the men interested, I suppose?"

It’s been almost four months since then when something happened that made me recollect that class exercise and my encounter with Yena. This incident made me think about how I would've fared had the tables been switched on me, wondered how accurately my life reflected from the contents of my bag.

Here in London, I alternately use two bags. The first is a rust-colored Piquadro rucksack my mom sent me from Italy. It's quite big, with four zipped compartments, more than enough room for all my trinkets. The first and largest one can fit books, notebooks and legal-sized school documents. It also has a padded slot for my 15-inch laptop. I use the second compartment for my laptop's accessories, like the power supply. The third, I use to keep my umbrella, scarf, gloves, and when shooting, an extra shirt. The fourth one is for things I need quick access to - chocolate bars, handkerchiefs, and my Moleskine London City notebook.

That bag is obviously quite heavy, so I usually bring my other bag. A green Belfast mailbag with a huge zip-up compartment and two buttoned pockets in the front. In it I'm able to keep the following things I never leave home without:

• My school notebook, which doubles as my all-around idea notebook;
• Since I'm in the middle of a school term, I also bring with me my first-term notebook so I could review my notes from the the previous term;
• School documents (scripts, readings, and equipment manuals);
• A 100+ GB portable external hard drive where I save copies of documents I've worked on my laptop (which I usually leave in my flat) so I can print them in school when needed. This hard drive also happens to be where I save my entire iTunes library;
• My 80 GB iPod, the JBL earphones I recently bought for maximum enjoyment of my music, and the attachable voice recorder I use when I need a quick way to chronicle my ideas;
• My favorite Ray-Ban sunglasses (friends know how I'm never without them - the night owl that I am);
• A Bridge umbrella;
• A book. Nowadays, it's a Guy de Maupassant book I have yet to start (since I just emerged from a novel);
• A scarf;
• A Parker pen;
• A bottle of water;
• A lip protectant;
• My house keys - the front door's and my room's;
• And of course, my wallet, containing my credit cards, debit card, postal ID, London Met ID, discount cards, ATM receipts, and usually, about £20 cash.

That's admittedly a lot of stuff for someone to bring around with him everyday. I’m actually more used to traveling light in the Philippines. The difference is I also have my car there, which is where I’d leave most of these things. As such, when I alight, I only have my wallet and iPod with me. Being a commuter here, I have no choice but to dump all of those in one bag.

Had I been approached by people who wanted to go through the contents of my bag, it would be apparent that I'm a student and that my life in London revolved around my studies. From my full iPod, they'd probably deduce my love for music, and from my book, that I liked reading. They'd know that I'm not originally from London since I kept as proof of identification a Postal ID issued in the Philippines (with details like my birthday, birth place, occupation, height, weight, and even my distinguishing mark - 'mole on left eyebrow') instead of a UK-issued driver's license. If they browsed through my notebook, it's possible for them to infer my background as a writer since I've scribbled down on it dozens of random ideas. And if they looked hard enough, they'd find where exactly in London I lived since my address is also written somewhere in that notebook.

So yeah, it's fair to say that my bag reflected my life here in London. In fact, you might even say that my bag is my life.

I realized that when I lost my bag three weeks ago.

Nep and I were on a spree for winter clothes in Oxford and Regent Street. As we were crossing Regent Street to get from Top Shop to the Gap, I felt light, like I was missing something. We had already been to Selfridges then, so I had with me a number of paper bags containing our loot. I checked the bags I was carrying and was assured that I had all of them. At the Gap, I was excited to find some really nice winter coats that fit me perfectly. When I was about to pay at the counter, I realized that I WAS missing something. I didn't have my green mailbag with me anymore. It had the regular contents of my bag, with the addition of a knitted headgear and £40 more than the cash I usually kept in my wallet. I don't usually bring that much money here in London as I always transacted with my debit card anyway, but we just finished shooting the week before and that money was left over from the petty cash I had to have handy.

I believe I manage well during crises. Even then, when I lost my bag, I was considerably fine. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt depressed. I could afford to lose everything except my notebooks. I was also worried about my house keys and the fact that my address was in my notebook. And that somewhere in the bag I had ID's containing personal information. This is London after all - where crime is rampant and identity theft is common.

I chose not to not to tell people from home, particularly my mom. I didn't want them to worry (plus I was avoiding a scolding considering they remind me to take care of my things without fail). Instead, I emailed my friends and made fervent requests to pray for me and the bag's miraculous return. I even had specific requests for them to 'not let up' and continue praying - hopeful and faithful that while it may not be returned soon, it could still be returned, however late.

The following day, I went back to the store to follow up. No bag. Three days after, I called the store to inquire again. No bag. They said I was welcome to visit or call again to check, but the fact is lost items were usually handed in by the end of the day. Beyond two days, there was little chance of its return. So I decided to simply continue praying while starting to let go. Inspired by my friend's wise advise, I started praying for the bag's return and the important things in it. I wasn't hoping to get all of it back, as long as I got the ones I truly valued, which were my notebook and my hard drive). If He wills it. In my pleas I started adding that if it wasn't meant to happen, then I pray He grants me the grace and strength to let go.

It was hard, but life had to move on. I've to carry on, find a new bag, and in it, rebuild what I lost from the other one.

***

Five days after, just when I've given my bag up for lost, I got a surprise call from the person who found my bag. She was a staff member in the shop where I left it. They've been waiting for me to come back for it and was avoiding to open it until I did. Soon as I could, I came down to the shop and thanked the girl profusely. When I checked my bag on my train ride back to the school, everything was still there. Not a single page from my notebook missing, not a pound from my wallet. I was incredulous. Our prayers were granted.

Life, and my bag, is back. Just as it had been before this ordeal.

KWENTONG PEYUPS: Growing Up To Grown Up

(You may have to click on the picture to enlarge it if you're interested in reading it though.)

GROWING UP TO GROWN UP

My first semester in UP, I remember how one of my blockmates was reprimanded in Comm 1 class for her wrong grammar, and how we were then sternly reminded that we ought to speak in proper English. E nung hayskul pa naman, ‘I spoke medyo mixed, like ganito.’ Taglish kumbaga. Shet, ibang level to!

A couple of meetings after, we had to write an essay on adolescence. To make matters worse, our professor, Neil Garcia, required us to read our essays in front of the class. When my turn came, I stood in front, shaking. It wasn’t simply nerves as I’ve spoken in public countless times before. I think I was terrified they’d judge me on my thoughts on the subject. As evinced by the same tentativeness in my Taglish, I realized that before college – before UP – I had reached puberty without really growing up.

Baduy Day in Neil Garcia's class. The same spot where I stood in front of the class,
trembling uncontrollably as I read them my essay on adolesence.

Note the distinction between UP and college. In my mind, UP is unlike other colleges. It’s the microcosm of Philippine society. It couldn’t be truer than in the Diliman campus, my alma mater. After sitting through my first ever class in the wrong classroom, I realized how naïve and unprepared I was for the real world. No wonder I trembled during that recitation. UP had yet to teach me what adolescence was about.

theCouncil reenacting our first day in UP. PH306. Maling klasrum!

To be fair, it wasn’t all UP. It was a confluence of many factors. Less than two years before my college life commenced, my father died. Being an only child whose mother worked overseas, I was sheltered, pampered, and suddenly, I had no choice but to be independent. The decision to move to a new city, a new place, all on my own took that rite of passage to another dimension. UP was my chance to live independently in the real world.

As if I missed out on high school, I rushed through all of life’s lessons during my stay in UP. I learned to treasure every hump and bump I encountered along the way: my first failing mark (P.E. lang naman). Crashing my car. Singing, dancing and acting on stage. Losing my virginity. Falling in love. Getting hazed applying for an org. Getting drunk as a skunk and passing out. Smoking a joint and passing out. Smoking. Making out in my RAV and getting flashlighted by the UPDP. Voting. Ousting a President. Impressing professors, infuriating even more.

Batchmates ko sa hazing (wala lang si Angge).

All those experiences, mundane and profound, carried with them lessons big and small. Ngayon, alam ko nang tumba na ko sa limang baso ng rhum-coke. Na ang uno sa mabait na professor ay mas mababa sa dos ng magaling na mentor. Na pwedeng lumusot sa anumang uri ng gusot. Every exploit was invaluable, and UP did it by introducing me to people of every possible vocation and tradition, in the skin of my professors and classmates, the visiting lecturers, staff members, orgmates and friends. Sina Manang fishball sa Mass Comm, Ate Xerox sa Lib, Manong Guard sa may entrance, Kuya Bantay sa AS, at Sir Pulis na nang-flashlight sa kin.

I soaked it all in, excitedly, and even grudgingly at times. I started to love my country even more. UP made me cherish my identity as a Filipino not only because my education was paid for by my fellow countrymen’s hard earned taxes (though that remains a huge part of it) but because of the pride instilled in me by simply surrounding me with greatness. Greatness in both the excellence of the alumni whose footsteps I follow (pa’nong hindi kung yung prof mo sa BC 121 ay unang Pilipina lang namang nagtrabaho sa BBC?) and the nobleness I recognized in the non-academic members of our community. It made greatness not only a possibility but also a responsibility.

In short, UP was the manger on which the real me was birthed. In being comfortable with all kinds of people, I came to better comprehend what the real world is like, and I learned to be proud and comfortable with who I was. I nurtured a deeper sense of empathy and a more profound identification of my place and role in the society. If you’d met me in high school, you probably wouldn’t think I’d end up as a movie scriptwriter whose currency, apart from imagination, is skill in interacting and empathizing with people. Who would’ve thought all that could be done in just 500 hectares of land? Sa UP lang!

The 2001 Graduates, with my Mom :)

Since then, no matter where I went, I was assured of who I am and confident of what I could be. Like when I was a Freshman representing the Philippines in a youth forum in Japan. Or when I was traveling all over Mindanao making a documentary on issues faced by journalists covering war and terrorism. Or as a Fellowship student in Singapore. Even now, as I pursue further studies here in Great Britain, I’m mindful of how I represent myself as well as the Filipino people. Such awareness drives me to be the best version of myself. I owe it to my country, my alma mater, and myself. UP ata to. Matapang, matalino. Walang takot kahit kanino.

Kaya ngayon, pag recitation, di na ko nanginginig. At dahil nasa London, syempre proper English!

So anong kwentong Peyups ko, exactly? Is it how UP was the scene of my adolescence, or how it made me value my being Filipino? Or is it how it taught me to survive in the real world?

Baka magalit pa professors ko, sabihin para kong hindi taga-UP. Let me sum up this way, then (and in straight English):

It was in UP that I grew up to be a Filipino who is grounded in the realities of the world.

Lusot ba?

***

I composed this the weekend before the start of our second term at LFS. I originally called it, "A U.P.-Grown Grown Up on Growing Up" - a sort of word play which I didn't really expect to be adapted as its title upon publication. I had some time in my hands and wanted to contribute to my Alma Mater's celebration of its centennial.

I honestly thought this wouldn't get published because I didn't feel like it was what Campaigns & Grey wanted for the series. You'd notice I wasn't very specific about the experiences I recounted in the article. It's more like an abbreviation how my UP life was kasi. I've read a lot of the articles published, including my friends'. They, however, wrote of specific life episodes while they were still studying in the campus. I realized my article wasn't like that after I made my friend Jean read it, which was after I had emailed the article. I thought of writing a new one but never got around to doing it. Classes started and I got busy. I figured, I can always post it in my blog anyway. That's why I was surprised when I was woken up by Norman's text (at 7AM on Saturday!), saying "Yours is today's Kwentong Peyups! Congrats Ü"

Thanks to my cousin Majah who took a picture of the article to send to me. There it was...

100 Kwentong Peyups
Growing Up To Grown Up

Raz Sobida de la Torre
BA Broadcast Communication
97-18393 U.P. Diliman

I'm glad they printed this anyway. Among the reasons for my apprehension in leaving the country to study in London this year is the thought of missing out on all the festivities. Seryoso, sobra kong bad trip na wala ako sa Pinas para sa Centennial Lecture Series (though I was lucky enough to attend Sheila Coronel's during my summer vacation there), Homecomings, and the UP Pep Squad's defense of its title, among other things. This certainly helps make up for my absence :)

Wave of The Future

Like always, I did my morning rituals while watching the show Breakfast. One eye on the telly and the other on the mirror. I miss Umagang Kay Ganda and Alas-Singko Y Media but I don't have TFC, so I have to settle with BBC One. I caught this feature on the world's first ever wave farm. The Pelamis wave machine, a gigantic, segmented phallic structure that floats off the coast of a town called Agucadora in Portugal, was launched just recently. Its aim is to harness power from the Atlantic's powerful waves. I thought that with the rising oil prices and the Philippines' huge dependency on crude oil, and considering our long coastline (longer than the States!), this is a viable alternative power source our national government could pursue (if it hasn't).

I remembered this instance a few years back when the Philippine Daily Inquirer featured two photos on top of each other on its front page. I was immediately drawn to the first one on the top half of the newspaper because it was unmistakably familiar. When I read the caption, it confirmed that it was a picture of the Caliraya Lake in Cavinti, Laguna, my dad's birthplace. On the photo, you could see a man walking in the shallow part of the lake, which was smack in the middle of the lake bed because the water levels were extraordinarily low that time of the year.

When I scanned further, I noticed that the second photo below featured the power plant in Tiwi, Albay. I found it amusing because Tiwi is where my barkada/thesis partner Joni Mosatalla hails from naman. Kaya nga pala mura ang kuryente sa kanila. Rates were subsidized because the plant was within Tiwi's territory.

That PDI issue featured both our home towns on the front page because both were sites of alternative power sources. The hot springs of Tiwi generate geothermal power, while the man-made Caliraya lake provides hydroelectric power.

In all my years of friendship with Joni, preluded by all 4-years of college in UP (including an intense adventure making our thesis on our senior year), it was the first time that this curious coincidence of our towns being cradles of alternative power generation was brought to my attention. You'd think it would've come up at least once. Joni and I always joke about how there seems to be nothing left to talk about when we're with each other, and yet there we found this one, perhaps insignificant, detail that we've managed to overlook.

It's nice to be proven wrong. Comforting to be surprised by incidents like that, when you realize that with great, genuine friends, you'll never run of out of things to talk about. True, some of them are most likely to be not new, but I never find myself bored. In fact, I often find myself listening to stories that Joni's told me previously (and not just once, on most occasions!) I'd listen intently and wait for her to finish before letting an impish grin escape and breaking to her that I already know all about it. It has actually become a running joke that whenever she starts telling me something, Joni would always introduce a story with, "Sabihin mo kung nakwento ko na to sa yo ha?"

Once, during an an impromptu getaway to Puerto Galera with Mark and Forsyth, after realizing there's no new story to share, Joni and I even took to asking each other unlikely, thought-up questions. Tipong, "If you could only among the people you had flings and almost-romances, excluding actual exes, who would you want to ultimately end up with?" Cheesy, I know, but until now, that evening by the beach remains to be one of our funnest, most memorable conversations. And it was about a barrage of nonsense that we found sense in.

Come to think of it, even presence alone suffices. I'm glad there's a select circle of people like Joni with whom I'm able to bear silences. It's a luxury I take for granted but am eternally thankful for. These friends generously sate my desire for conversations as much as my need for comfortable, pressure-free tranquility. Either way, in the pleasure of their company. This I think is why I'm friends with my friends, why I see myself being friends with them long into the future.

***

I think the Portuguese may be on to something with their pioneering venture. Alternative is the way to go. The Bangui Wind Farm that supplies power to the Luzon grid is enough proof of this. There's potential in ethanol, but as Time Magazine's feature has revealed, the environmental cost of cultivating corn and sugar cane farms for this could just be as damaging as burning oil.

Perhaps wave power is really the wave of the future.