My Christmas "Miserabilia"

Christmas is over. Finally!

Why the cynicism, you’d ask. Have I just become the Grinch-reincarnate?

True, I wasn’t always like this. Just like all of you, Christmas once meant a whole lot of fun for me. It was even more than your normal Christmases, because for our family, the occasion always meant double fun. December 25 was also my father’s birthday.

Being a capitalized, boldly-written, red-letter day, there was no excuse for us to let it pass with a mere whimper. Friends and relatives know the event by heart, and they just come by in droves to greet and celebrate. Even when my Father was gravely sick, town-mates who were in vacation in Manila would still come and pay their respects. Regardless of the prevailing sentiments, it was still a moment for happiness.

Things changed when my father died. The celebration started to turn somber. The peremptory merrymaking remained but the gatherings simply veered towards nostalgia. If there were pockets of jubilation, these were merely in celebration of a few family victories and successes. I was convinced though that it was just a phase. Time heals.

Or so I thought. Wrongly. Because then came 2001.

Fate played a fatal trick that caused my stocks to tumble. The pedestal cracked and crumbled. I came home for Christmas with torn wings, frayed from a nose dive after flying the flight of the victor. Life struck a crushing blow that I thought sapped all will out of me. It was just my own fall, yes, but the family commiserated. And the Christmas gatherings never became the same again. For despite how everyone else had to move on and join the mood of the season, there was always this vanquished, anguished soul sulking at the corner, who would rather spend the entire day in deep slumber.

Six Christmases so far. And I hope the counting stops. Now!

For all of these six Christmas seasons, I was Mr. Miserable. Much as I tried, there was just no stopping my self-pity. More so when people around me seemed so unabashedly joyful. Adding to the pain is when these embarrassingly happy people force me to join their gaiety. Yes, some people compel others to be happy because they are outrageously so. I could see that the intention is noble (for me to be oblivious of my pain even only for a while) but imagine engaging the victims of the Bicol floods in a party just so they may forget. My pain surely pales in comparison to theirs, but the insensitivity is parallel.

I now keep a potpourri of notes, thoughts and other memorabilia of my past six Christmases. That I call my miserabilia. It’s there to inspire me that one day, they’d all get burned and be blown by the strongest of winds, leaving nary a trace.

This year’s Christmas leaves me at a crossroad, where I anxiously wait for better things to unfold. For the first time, I sit on a hopeful tone – for my life to finally have a complete turn-around.

But the pessimist in me prevails still. Things being out of my control, I can’t help it when the hope at times still turns to worry. So regardless of the efforts I exert, the bleak atmosphere remained. Ah, hopeless me.

Allow me to clarify though. Having seen how other peoples’ lives have been wrecked by human and divine catastrophes in recent months, I admit my self-indulgence could indeed be overblown. Friends tell me I’m still lucky compared to the rest of this plague-stricken world, as my problems aren’t as big.

Maligayang Pagbabalik ...Mga Kaibigang Balikbayan!

By this time, siguradong dagsa na ang mga nakauwing balikbayan (Tama. Lahat sila balikbayan. Bakit kasi pag mayaman, balikbayan ang tawag. Pag small-time lang at naninilbihan sa mga forenger, OFW).

Nasa dyaryo kanina na ngayon ang official start ng Pamaskong Salubong ng gobyerno. Of course, kasama ‘to sa walang kamatayang selebrasyon dahil sa sangkatutak daw na remittances ng overseas Pinoys. At syempre pa, para na rin sa photo op ng mga KSPng opisyales natin. Ang ganda nga namang tingnan ng mahabang pila ng mga nakangiting Pinoy na sinasalubong sa saliw ng rondalla at inaabutan ng kung anu-anong abubot, e.g. kakanin. At least, naiba naman. Hindi na lang lagi sila ang nagbibigay.

Naging OFW din ako minsan. Kaya nga parang trip kong mag advice ngayon. Hindi dahil matanda na ako he he, pero dahil paminsan-minsan kailangan pa ring payuhan ang ating mga kaibigan, lalo na yung mga ngayon lang uli uuwi.

Ito’y ilan lang sa mga tips na hango sa aking mga mabagbag-damdaming kwentong nasagap:

Tip # 1. Wag masyadong ipaalam sa mundo ang iyong matagumpay na pagbabalik. Dito kasi nagsisimula ang lahat ng problema. Pag marami ang nakakaalam ng pag-uwi mo, mabibigla ka na lamang sa haba ng pila ng mga nakaabang sa yo. Kung dati tambay ka lang sa kanto at walang pumapansin, ngayon talo mo pa ang kandidatong barangay chairman.

Tip # 2 Magtalaga ng eksaktong badyet para lahat ng gastusin. Maaaring pinag-ipunan mo nga ang pag-uwing to, pero sinisigurado ko sa yo, kahit bitbitin mo lahat ng kayamanan ng iyong amo, kulang pa rin yan. Kaya maglagay ka ng boundary kung hanggang saan ka pwedeng magtapon. Pagdating dun, tigil.

Tip # 3. Maging matatag sa lahat ng dramang lalapit. Asahan mo maaamoy ng madlang bayan ang simoy ng iyong dolyar. At dahil puno ng hikahos ang Pilipinas, hindi katakataka na ang lahat ay me kwento ng hinagpis at pagdurusa. At lalabas, ang tanging lunas ay ang konting tulong na maiaabot mo. Walang masamang magbigay, pasko naman. Basta matuto ka lang umayaw pag said na ang balon.

Tip # 4. Magtago ng pondo para mga emergency. Marami na akong nakilala na mayaman paglapag sa Pilipinas, pero nangungutang na pagbalik (Hoy! Yung me utang pa sa akin, magpakita kayo!) Ni hindi man lang kasi sumilip sa bangko nung me laman pa ang kanyang wallet. Para naman dun sa me mga naipon na, maglaan ng kahit konting panahon para mapag-usapan ang pamumuhunan. Di habang buhay me grasya sa ibang bansa (tingnan nyo ko, he he).

Pero please, huwag na po dyip o tricycle. Dagdag trapik at sakit ng ulo lang yun.

Tip #5. Umuwi sa pamilya. He he. Andami ko kasing nakilala na iba ang pamilyang nilisan at iba naman nung bumalik. Di naman sa nangingialam, pero kahit saang anggulo mo ito tingnan, siguradong gulo. Kaya sana naman, gugulin talaga ang oras ng bakasyon sa pamilya. Para mabawasan na rin ang pangungulila at kapagdaka’y makatipid sa telephone bill pagbalik nyo abroad.

Tip #6. Magapasalamat. I’m sure bago nakarating sa kinalalagyan mo ngayon, marami ka ring nahingan ng tulong. Ito na ang pagkakataon para makabawi. Hindi kailangan magbigay ng mamahaling bagay. Importante, di ka nakalimot.

Huling tip. Higit sa lahat, mag enjoy! Balik kayod-kalabaw na naman kayo pagkatapos nito kaya dapat sagarin na. Maraming paraan mag-todo saya ng di masyadong parusa sa bulsa at sa katahimikan ng bayan. Challenge ito sa inyong creativity.

Merry Christmas!

P.S.

Darating din ang ilan sa mga taong nakadaupang-palad ko noon sa mundo ng mga Intsik, kaya ako rin medyo excited na. Sigurado, mahaba-haba ring kwentuhan to. Kung saan-saang lupalop na rin kasi ng mundo sila napadpad at taon na rin ang nakakalipas mula ng huli kong makita ang ilan sa kanila.

Ehem. Honest. Di na nila kailangang ibalot. :-)

(*Photo from Inquirer)

My Island 2: An Invitation

It's easy to discount the beauty of a place when you've grown accustomed to it. Familiarity may not necessarily breed contempt, but it sometimes does cultivate apathy and nonchalance.

On most occasions, it would need the eye of stangers for locals to fully appreciate their place's opulent beauty.

I guess I've fallen into the same state, that's why I try as much as possible to re-experience the pride in my hometown through the unbiased confirmation that only visitors can offer.

For so many times, I have dared friends to abandon their comfort zones for a while and experience adventure in Capul (the awesome waves should not be missed, he he) . There were brave souls at first, but to my disappointment, they all failed to stand by their word.

But my invitation stays; and hopefully this time, with the pictures I post here, their plans and promises will not remain broken. My deepest gratitude goes to Joni Bonifacio of Catbalogan for the wonderful pictures I snatched from his blog (I asked permission but he did not reply he he).

This is the centuries-old church that we are so proud of. It lies at the center of the poblacion and is the hub of the people's daily lives. Believe it or not, people still stand at attention at the tolling of its bells during angelus.

It has undergone some needed restoration in recent years, but this was more of patchwork as this was not really supervised by professional curators. Paging the National Historical Institute!

The Chuch served as sanctuary for the people every time the Moro marauders would attack them. The ruins in the photos above form part of the entire fort that sorrounded the church.

Another landmark in Capul is the lighthouse perched at the northern tip of the island. Its blinking beacon warns ships from running aground.

The lighthouse grounds is a windy, almost desolate place. If one's quite sentimental, it is a perfect place for soul-searching. Just add either the sunrise or the sunset, to enhance the drama. :-)

The picture on the right was taken from the western side of the island. At the back (picture below) lies our family's nipa hut where visitors can rest and savor the pacific wind. Or return to after collecting seashells.

The place is called Malpal by residents. I heard it was christened Freedom Beach recently. Nice name, but I have to admit its not really a place for swimming. Just after the sandy portion are corals that surface during low tide. If people want to take a dip, they would have to go to the edge of the rocky portion.

Or they can visit the caves carved by the rushing waves on the foot of the cliffs located on the other side of the lighthouse.

While there, pray that a submarine surfaces from its deep sea sojourn. I'm not kidding. These mammoth vessels sometimes pass by the San Bernardino Strait and it is at this part of the sea where they emerge.

Speaking of caves, Capul also boasts of caves filled with bats and snakes, aside of course from the usual stalagmite and stalactite formations. When we were schoolkids, we had annual treks to Bito Cave where we gather guano (bat droppings) which we use to fertilize our school gardens.

Many spelunkers have already visited these caves and they appreciated the fact that these are mostly untouched and unexploited.

Other must-sees in the island are the Bato Beach on the left and the Timontimon Rock formation (below) on the other end of the island.

When is the best time to visit Capul? It depends. If you are the adventurous type and wants to experience some adrenaline rush, the wavy months from September to February would be best.

You'll have the time of your life cruising through mountains of waves caused by the meeting of the Pacific and Philippine currents. I swear, it's not for the faint-hearted.

One last thing, please do not expect urban comforts when you're on our forlorn place. Being far from the mainland, we have to generate our own electricity and it normally works only from 5:00 to 12:00 p.m. If you're lucky, there will be no brown-outs through out your stay.

Be ready therefore for a life without electricity and enjoy life in its purest, unadulterated form. Think of walking down pitch dark streets, drinking tuba without ice, being lulled to sleep by the gentle breeze, and more.

Ano, tara na!

Philippine Idol: My Final Notes

All’s well that ends well. After the humps and bumps that plagued the initial run of Philippine Idol, Mau Marcelo’s winning the plum finally confirmed the Pinoy’s commitment to talent.

While I did root for Gian, I still agree that Mau was an excellent choice. I have always recognized her talent, long before PI. She actually was my bet in Star for A Night where she was bested by Sarah Geronimo. I knew her time will come.

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But just like her, I too had my doubts if she indeed was idol material. Everybody knew that the world she was trying to conquer had fascination with beauty first and talent second. That’s why I was convinced that Gian was a sure winner. He fits all the requisites – looks, talent, charm.

Fortunately, the PI format allowed the people to have a say in the outcome. At the same time, the two-hour voting period limited the impact of wholesale voting. If the judges controlled the proceedings, I am quite sure Mau would not have gotten the crown.

(I cannot say the same for Pinoy Dream Academy. It’s format allows maximum use for block votes. It will be no wonder then if Irish Fullerton will later win despite being the least talented in the final six. The mighty US dollar will surely trounce its rivals who hitch their dreams on the lowly peso. Look what happened to Yvan Lambatan.)

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Mau was not consistent on finals night, no thanks to the judges uninspired choice of song for her to interpret. “Balut …Penoy” was a novelty song, regardless of the fact that it was a challenging piece. It was good theater stuff but definitely not contest material. What were the judges thinking? Were they grooming Mau to be this generation’s Nanette Inventor?

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I loved Gian’s version of Impossible Dream. It made a classic tune sound more like pop. I hope he records the song in his debut CD. With a minus one I should add. I guess it will be major karaoke stuff from hereon.

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I feared I would miss the Philippine Idol finals night.

I was in Bacolod City early morning Friday and left Saturday afternoon. Our flight was delayed by the rains of Senyang and we all thought we’d be stranded. Fortunately, we were able to fly out of Negros. As we arrived, we tried traversing EDSA but it was complete chaos. We diverted to C-5 but it was worse. At 7 pm, we were still crawling out of Libis. I heaved a sigh of relief when traffic eased as we approach Katipunan. I was home some time 8:00. But after about 10 minutes, the lights went out.

The unannounced brown-out was not enough to let me pass on the chance to watch Philippine Idol. I started searching for possible places where I could grab a good view- a restaurant, a friend’s house, anywhere! Even if I was quite tired, I was stubbornly willing to go wherever it takes me just to watch the show.

Good thing I was spared the trouble. The lights came back just in time for the opening number. It was a wonderful ride from thereon.

Kapten Barbel

Just got out of the gym. Worked out some damn sweat. I try doing this at least three times a week, and so far, at the weigh-in, nothing much has changed. Read: I continue growing. Or bulging.

This has become the story of my life after law school. No more classes to rush to, no more late night readings, no more calorie-burning recitations. Much as I'd like to stand the temptations of food and sleep, alas, I'm just plain human to eventually succumb to the relentless call of pleasure.

The guilt bugs me every time I indulge, thus the torment at the gym. I bust my lungs doing the treadmill, strain all muscles lifting plates, but .. okay, I admit, it looks like a losing battle already. For one, I don't think I'd ever get to where I desire if there's not even the slightest improvement in the amount of weights I could push. It's been weeks and I still can't get past the 50-pound mark. I wonder, where in heaven's name did those creatures beside me get the superhuman strength to push those heavy barbells, sometimes even heavier than their bodies?

Maybe that's what I need - superhuman powers. So, come vacation time, I resolve to scour the boondocks of Capul to find the equivalent of Captain Barbell's powers so I could transform into one buffed demigod at a shout. But knowing the number of souls who are similarly combing the place for same talisman, I guess that must have been taken by now.

So, what other options do I have left. Dra. Belo and the Calayans? Yes, they remain as very serious options, but penniless as I am, I may not even have the money to simply secure an appointment. Back to the drawing boards.

As it is, it's pretty clear that I've got no other choice but to spend more time in the gym. Or maybe there still is. Why don't I just eat, sleep and exercise in my dreams? Maybe it's indeed useless trying to fight the ravages of nature. Agree?

Heroes?

Time Magazine recently chose Efren “Bata” Reyes as among the 60 Asian heroes of our generation. In celebration of this remarkable achievement, one of his regular competition sponsors published a congratulatory message on nationwide broadsheets, with a picture of him (sheepish grin and all) lifting a bottle of gin. Hero, huh?

With mixed signals of this nature, I wonder how the concept of heroism is being taught to school kids these days.

I consulted the ever-dependable Mr. Webster, and he validated the definition I have known for most of my life - a hero is "one of distinguished courage or ability admired for his brave deeds and noble qualities; one who has performed a heroic act and is regarded as a model or ideal".

As kids, there were only a few persons we call heroes, and almost all of them have sacrificed their lives so that this generation will enjoy breathing the air of freedom they so longed to have. Rizal, Bonifacio, Mabini … all of them disregarded the call to complacency and the temptation to pursue personal vainglory and instead decided to take the cause of freedom for the greater number.

And what did we do, a generation hence, in return? We shamelessly dilute their heroism by placing in the same pedestal people who share nothing of their values.

Pray tell me, what has Bata done to deserve being tagged a hero? Is playing billiards all your life and getting paid for it, heftily, I should add, an example of selfless virtue?

There has to be a stop in heralding every good-doer a hero. If these times really lack nobility, then by all means, leave it at that. We should not adjust our standards just because nobody meets them.

I agree, people who do good should be appreciated, praised or even rewarded. But we should use the hero tag sparingly, more so if their acts are but results of the desire to survive or worse, of the pursuit for personal dreams. Heroism cannot just be an offshoot of something else; it has to be a product of a conscious effort to abandon the self for the higher interest of others. I do not subscribe to accidental heroes.

This means therefore, that we should stop calling OFWs heroes because they definitely are not within the league. They may have made sacrifices but these are all for the benefit of their families and themselves. Of course, the government must laud them for the remittances they send back home and for the investments they make in local businesses, but such must only be within the context of their saving the government from further embarrassment for its ineptness in handling the economy. All else outside this framework is pure "bola".

This means too, that self-confessed crooks should not be treated and allowed to swagger like royalty just because his squealing caused the downfall of another administration (of course, he was a partner in the robbery of the public treasury at the time, but look at him pontificating like the Pope on the evils of corruption). People like him should be in jail.

Nor should that boxer who is already a multi-millionaire be barraged with hosannas as the sole bearer of good tidings to this forlorn country. Suckers that we are for fame, we take the line that he does his boxing in the name of country. Rubbish! He is into what he does for the money and the fame that goes with it. He is hero only to the leeches who use him for photo-ops and all means fair and foul to score political mileage. And the poor guy doesn’t even realize he’s being used. Or may be not. I guess he knows he could make a fool of millions of Filipinos; for how else could he have the gall to launch a singing career and thus pollute our airwaves, if he doesn't think of us as stupid enough to let him get away with it? Hero, my ***!!