My Visual DNA

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He he. Halata bang walang mai-post? Hayaan nyo na. Cute naman eh.

Actually, kasalanan to ni Blue Arden. Nang-engganyo. lol

"Kid-napped!"

It was a Saturday like no other. For instead of spending it somewhere downing bottles of beer with drinking buddies or in the gym feeding the fantasy of being buffed, it became a bonding time with kids as I unabashedly joined them in pursuing kiddie stuff.

It started mid-morning of Saturday when a law school mate’s child was baptized. As expected, the entire gang was there. And more expectedly, I was not able to escape the reglementary ribbing as regards my remaining a bachelor. Standing as ninong (godfather) always arouses the interest of friends to egg me to plunge into family life, pronto. Yeah right! As if it’s simply like picking an apple in your neighbor’s orchard.

After the reception, I had to rush back home as I have promised the entire brood of nephews and nieces that I will bring them out. We’ve been to the regular malls before so we decided to go for some leisurely walk at the Marikina Riverbanks.

Unfortunately, it rained. So we had to stay indoors. Thus, aside from the playtime at the kids’ zone, it also became shopping time for school supplies. And you know how it is when shopping with kids. You always must have ready cash for the toys they fancy. The good uncle that I was (ahem), I of course can’t help but give in.

Truth is, I haven’t had a decent sleep at the time as I got home only the next day after an exhausting Friday night out. But it was fun being with the hyperactive kids. It makes you feel energized (or else, you’d just lose any one of them in the crowd) and it brings you back to a time in your youth when simple things were major sources of joy. And who doesn’t enjoy incoherent, repetitive and out-of-this-world childtalk?

Needless to say, it was a Saturday worth the exhaustion.

But then again, having my own kids is a different story altogether.

There's a Snake in My Car!

I was cruising España Boulevard last night when, from the corner of my eye, I saw this shiny little black thing slithering through the left edge of my windshield.

I had to take a second look to confirm what it was. And wonder of wonders, it was a snake! Yes, a snake!! More than a foot long and about my forefinger’s size!

I almost screeched to a halt when it moved towards the center of the glass, now right in front of my face. Fortunately, it returned back to the edge, safely grabbing the radio antenna for support.

Then it disappeared. Or so it appeared.

I tried not thinking about it as I drove home but I was edgy, okay, paranoid, all through out the trip. Where on earth did that dreadful thing come from? And the bigger concern is, where could it be now? Is it just camping on top of the car door? Or could it be crawling just beneath my feet? Now, is it a painful sting I’m feeling in my legs?

It’s funny how irrational one gets when he’s afraid.

I could not even get out as I reached home. I had to transfer to the passenger seat first and push the door from there to check if nothing would fall.

Then the count down: five, four, three, two, one …run!

I was laughing when I finally got out, but I still can’t assure myself that it was indeed gone.

Now I need someone who could coax it to get out just in case it’s simply lurking out in any of the car’s recesses.

Or better yet, will anyone of you want to have some joy riding with me? Everything’s on me, I promise.

Frustrations

While surfing, I saw this quote from famous NBA coach Red Auerbach: “music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life”. Do I agree? Of course! He could actually be referring to me.

I sing. Some people like it, some don’t. But when people who know me hear me humming a tune or heartily blurting out a melody, they already have an inkling of what’s going on – I’m probably just doing my “laundry”. Didn’t I tell you long before that I am a soul starched with the dust of life? You get the drift.

But I am more of what people would regularly call a “frustrated singer”. Or better yet, “castrated”. You know, if only to highlight the impossibility of the dream ever being brought to fruition (grin).

I’ll let you in on a secret. I did fantasize about singing professionally (I joined a singing contest before and won second place). But I had an early realization that the amount of talent given to me could only land me, at best, in provincial karaoke bars. That can hardly qualify as a profession, so the dream ends there.

But the fantasy lives on when I empathize with real singers, as they battle against each other in hard-core singing contests. That’s why these contests, local and foreign, are number one in my viewing fare.

Which brings me to this season’s American Idol.

I’ve been watching the show even before Sanjaya became a joke. And while at first I was convinced it should be Melinda Doolitle and Lakisha Jones in the finals, I was not really surprised when Lakisha had to bow out. Lakisha became inconsistent as the stakes grew higher. But what actually did her in were when she sang the hits of former Idol winners and she obviously paled in comparison. And of course, she ran out of breath in her final song. That was mortal sin even in barangay-level contests.

But I did think that it will be a Melinda vs Jordin finals. Blake is unarguably not within their league (although he’s surely a pop icon material).

Then came last night’s shocker. I can’t believe that Melinda Doolittle is out of American Idol finals. This was extreme shock. Don’t these American voters have ears? Oh well, I forgot. AI is not a just a singing contest.

Melinda, I know, was not booted out. I surmise the voters thought she was safe that they concentrated on saving their other bet. I’m sure the results would have been different if the viewers were instead asked to vote for the one they’d chose to eliminate. But then again, AI was so patterned to create upsets of this nature and thus fuel controversy and generate more patronage. Need I say this was all for the money?

I hate it that the AI finals will be featuring half-baked but popular talents. While certainly, viewership will still be high, whether both will make it big after the contest will still be one big question. But Melinda? I’m sure she’ll do a Jennifer Hudson and she will, in the end, have the last hearty laugh. Wanna bet?

Moving On

The tempest has somehow ebbed. Sooner or later, the proverbial calm will have to set in.

This despite what was probably one of the most hotly-contested elections in recent history, particularly so in the municipal level. In the island where I came from, this must have been the only election where politically-related deaths were recorded. I hope this does not become a trend.

Truth to tell, I was nowhere near the thick of things. I simply checked the proceedings from the sidelines.

For I have been trying my best to be totally apolitical in recent years. Some years back, I have resolved to resist the possibility of being bitten again by that crazy bug called politics. I have been there, you see, although as a minor player. But the immersion I had when I was younger was enough to plant the seeds of public service and I know that given only a little push, my resolve may just fizzle out.

And that’s one endeavor I cannot accommodate now. Nor the very near future. I’m just not ready to take the plunge.

But despite being uninvolved, I still can’t help but feel sad for my partymates, mostly relatives and long-time allies. The results have by far shown that the political train we used to ride has been derailed, and that inevitable changes are in the offing.

Just the same, that’s how the game is played, and the only way to meet a debacle of this sort is to face it with grace.

True, the changes that are to come will have impact on the lives of many, including a brother of mine whose livelihood is hitched on the future of Municipal Hall. I recognize the fear that envelopes him now, as with the rest of his peers.

But the march through life goes on and we should let the new victors take the spoils. The verdict is in, and sadly, there’s no room for any motion for reconsideration or appeal. I can only hope that this new step will indeed bring us to better directions and that the new leaders will be magnanimous in their victory.

It is therefore, time to move on.

Dreaming of Leaving

I got my visa to the United States in 2001 while I was still working in Taipei. It was a multiple entry, ten-year visa. I got it without any sweat as my application was endorsed by our de facto embassy in Taiwan. Connections do work, even abroad.

I have always hoped I could use it since then, but no such luck. My schedules, both in school and with the office, were in constant conflict. Now, the visa is way past half its age and it may just expire unused (think of dying a virgin and you’ll know the level of frustration I’m having, he he).

But hope springs eternal, as the cliché goes.

I just received an e-mail from a kababayan with an offer of free accommodations. Whoa! Was I excited! With no more classes to consider, I realized that there is indeed a possibility I could go. It’s just a matter of finding the right timing. Making the itinerary will be easy after that.

Hmm. Will the trip ever come true? I sure hope it will.

Been to much stress lately, I guess I need to be in an entirely different atmosphere. Will a white Christmas be too much to ask?

We’ll see.

Goma for Senator? Really now..

I had a hard time listening to Richard Gomez last night during the “Isang Tanong” episode aired by Channel 7. The exchange was painful, as it went this way:

Asking about his stand on political turn-coatism, Mel Tiangco laid the predicate by noting how he shopped for a senatorial slot in both the Genuine Opposition and Team Unity tickets.

Gomez quickly answered by retelling the saga of his senatorial dream – something already known to every Juan and Pedro. Reminded that he only had 2 minutes to reply, he signaled that he was aware of it and went on. His time lapsed without him saying anything about the real question.

He was then asked who among the many actors and media personalities previously elected to the Senate have by far distinguished themselves in the service. His answer? A very general remark implying that there were those who did well and those who faltered. He ended with the standard “we just wanted to serve” line.

Then the final query, solicited from a fellow candidate. He was asked his take on the parliamentary system of government. Any college student who has gone through PolSci 11 would have had his brilliant stand. Gomez’s? He was all for constitutional change as long as it will not benefit the incumbents, thus, changes must wait until 2010. What happened to his stand on the parliamentary form of government. Nothing.

Richard Gomez for Senator? Spare me.

Just wondering, what process does one go through to be able to convince himself that he could be more than how much his brain could support him? Has self-assessment become such a strange concept?

Catching Mr. Spidey

They were talking about it excitedly this morning - those who braved the long queues on opening day.

And they talked like they just conquered Mt. Everest. Their individual sagas were filled with tales of pushing, shoving, running and fighting in the theater corridors. And at the end of it all, they were all abuzz about how beautiful it was.

Can’t help but give them their day. They after all, had the bragging rights to being among the first to have watched it.

I wish I could have taken the same trek yesterday, but I just don’t have the patience for waiting in line. No, it’s not my legs, joker. I’m just characteristically impatient.

I’m sure it will take weeks for the crowds to clear out, so I would still have to endure days of consciously evading the topic, lest I take out all the excitement in the experience.

But someone somewhere probably read my thoughts. From out of nowhere, this message was in my e-mail:

“We will be having a special screening of Spiderman 3 this coming Saturday, May 5, 6:30 pm. I will be sending 2 tickets for your company. The following are on our guest list:

Mr. Areo Andarino
xxx

Kindly anticipate as I will send the said tickets to your office. Hope to see you on Saturday!"

Ahh… Happiness can be just a ticket to the movies. And with no prospects of pushing, shoving, running and fighting in the theater corridors, I sure will have a better day.

P.S.

Just got the ticket. And wonder of wonders, I-Max pa pala! At me extra pang isa!!

Hmm. Sino kaya i-invite ko he he.

Give Me a Damn Break!

If you look out from my office workstation, this is the view that will greet you:

Can’t help but wonder: what on earth did these people do to deserve the good life? All they do all day is laze under the sun, float (or have sex) by the pool or doze off in their air-conditioned five-star hotel room. For anything they need, the hotel staff is at their beck and call.

Moi? I cannot even enter the goddamn hotel.

How I wish I'd have the time ... and resources, to simply disappear and be a King in a faraway kingdom. How I wish I could fly off to some island in the Bahamas. Or Greece. Even Antarctica. Wherever I could have some f**k**g rest.

A Toast to Success

The Adamson College of Law tendered a testimonial dinner to its 20 bar passers last night.

The ceremony was simple but the mood was unmistakably jovial. It was obvious that the school was proud of what we have accomplished. With a passing percentage of 48%, our performance landed us within the top ten schools in Metro Manila, besting among others, San Sebastian, UE, PLM, PUP and MLQU.

For the first time, we met our teachers on a different plane: as equals. It felt weird being called “pañero” by people you dreaded just a few months back. But with the privilege formally conferred, we can’t help but strike back (kami pa!). As we all had the chance to speak, we took turns roasting our professors who made law school hell on earth. It felt great (nye he he).

When we dared to enter law school, we knew we had to shed off all trappings of pride. Regardless of who we are outside, we were nothing but students inside – the lowest of all mammals. It was our choice that we stepped into the jungle - we should dance with the tune if we want to survive.

I had a hard time adjusting during the early days. It was difficult being the subject of mental torture of teachers, some of whom could even be younger than you. And these teachers mince no words in putting their message across. In my books, the classic line forever attached to me are the words of Professor Abelardo Domondon in our Remedial Law class – “Nakakaintindi ka ba talaga ng Ingles? Ano ba course mo, ha? Yan na nga ba ang sinasabi ko, e. You are being allowed to reach 4th year even if you know nothing!”

I brought this out last night and we all had a good laugh recalling just how blanked-out I was that recitation night. I did resent the harsh words at the time, but now that I have proven myself (ahem), all doubts in the past, I guess, have been erased. So, okay na rin ako.

Being a former teacher myself, I know where the professors are coming from when they get utterly mad. For most of them who are there not for the money but for the passion to teach, it could really drive one nuts when students fail to meet expectations despite the teacher's efforts to prepare for the class. But when it’s harvest time, I know how happy and proud they are that their wards have accomplished what they aspired for. All the pain inflicted in the honing process were nothing personal. Just part of the game, so to speak.

And we understand.

Reflections

My law school frat, Confraternitas Justitiae or the Knights, treated us to dinner Friday night. Had fun.

The event reeked of déjà vu. We’ve clearly been there before. Just last year and some years back, we were the ones hosting dinner for those who passed. Was I glad I was in the present scene.

-- *** ---

After dinner, my co-passers went out for coffee. From afar, one could read excitement written all over our faces as we crossed the street. Why?

Because I just got a copy of the Suggested Answers to the 2006 Bar Examinations published by the Philippine Association of Law Schools (PALS). You see, we took it upon ourselves not to look at the questions after the exams. With the results now out, we were all convinced it was time to check how (or why? :-)) we passed.

And boy, were we glad not to have taken the slightest peek on the questions. Some of them we can’t even immediately remember. Some were vaguely familiar and we cannot recall how we answered. And for the controversial questions that have been haunting us even in our dreams, some we got correctly, some we totally missed.

If we took the bar exams from those who provided the answers, we could have failed. But of course, we knew we could not have answered the way they did. They had all the time in the world to conduct research and compose and edit their responses.

I surmise that the examiners were patient enough in reading through our booklets. I guess the major reason we passed is because the examiners graded our performance as a whole and not based on major blunders alone.

My biggest nightmare had always been on the premise that I had undeniably wrong answers – answers that if read on their lonesome would make me look so stupid I would be a disgrace to the bar. That my other answers were considered and thus redeemed me is something that I should really be thankful for.

-- ***--

The drive home became reflection time for me. These thoughts uncontrollably rushed in:

1. At one point, one has to confront his fears.

2. The rendezvous could lead only two ways: you are relieved you did right or disappointed to know that you were right in getting worried.

3. But after all is said and done, everything is in the past. Either you continue wallowing in self-indulgence or free yourself from your ghosts.

Recalling our hearty laughs after checking how we fared in the exams made me wish life could go fast-forward.

I dream of the day when just like what we did Friday night, I would find myself reading through my life-blog and after browsing through angst-ridden pages, I’d simply smile at the mistakes I’ve done.

And then move on.

Song In My Mind

I wish I could sing this song now.

But no. Not yet. Not all things are in place. Yet.

I'd have to wait.

As usual.



I have no choice. The gifts I receive normally come in parts. Always incomplete.

Maybe I just have to appreciate every blessing that comes my way. Regardless of its nature.

And then believe that there is an appointed time for everything.

No need to rush. Really.

My Island 3: A Call For Tourists

(This article was published in the Lifestyle Section of the Philippine Daily Inquirer on April 11, 2007)
(pics are mine)

Adventure Island Hops in Northern Samar
by: Augusto Villalon

ISLAND CARAVAN IS A YOUNG adventure tour operator offering a smorgasbord of tours to the most exciting and unexpected places in the Philippines.

Island Caravan arranges everything to get me to the many places I have always wanted to see. What’s more, they often suggest other places in this great country that I never even knew existed.

Three of these “secret” places are the islands Biri, Capul and Dalupiri, all off the coast of Northern Samar.
Remote and desolate, and definitely off the normal tourist track, forgotten Northern Samar evokes powerful images.

Among the last frontiers in the country, its rugged coastline of limestone cliffs along the Pacific Ocean is a historical landmark. During the Spanish colonial era, Samar island was the first Philippine landfall seen by the Manila galleons as they approached the end of their long voyage from Acapulco.

Entering the waters of the Philippine archipelago, the galleons called at the fortified island of Capul off Samar, offered thanks for a safe crossing at the Jesuit church, and then negotiated the rough waters of narrow San Bernardino Strait toward Manila, their final destination.

Capul also became the last stop on Philippine soil of the departing galleons before the long, often treacherous trans-Pacific sail to Acapulco in Mexico.

Island Caravan’s “Samar Outdoor Escapade” checks guests into lodgings at the port town of Allen then spends the next two days exploring the islands off the wind-swept Samar shoreline.

Walk around rock formations on the beach before riding astride a motorcycle behind the driver “habal-habal” style, climbing up a narrow, winding coconut-shaded mountain path. The rest of the trail must be negotiated on foot, but it’s an easy trek to a pair of massive rock formations atop of the hill, visible navigation markers to incoming ships seen kilometers away at sea.

The US Signal Corps used the location during World War II to scan for enemy ship sailing in from the Pacific.

The following day, a large outrigger banca takes you to largely unexplored Biri, a marine sanctuary surrounded by marshlands. Another “habal-habal” ride through rice paddies which follow the rolling contours of the rustic landscape ends at wind-battered limestone cliffs lining the shore.

After Biri, the banca crosses the open sea to fabled Capul, the next destination, the Spanish galleon staging point in the colonial era. The ruins of the massive, extensive Capul fortress, now part of the modern town, mark the strategic significance of Capul in the era of the galleon trade.

What has survived is impressive—Saint Ignatius Church, integrated into the fortress walls, the ruins of an old watchtower looking out toward the sea, and a Spanish-era lighthouse on the island’s most prominent hilltop.
The last island we visited was Dalupiri (or San Antonio), where the water is pristine, the white sand beaches deserted and spotless, and where weary psyches battered by urban stress recharge instantly, and the balance between man and nature is regained.

Fly to Catarman from Manila. The bus to Allen Baluarteco connects through the ro-ro (roll on-roll off) system to strategic points in the Visayas, Luzon and Mindanao.

Island Caravan offers an extensive menu of adventure tours in the most surprising, unexpected locations in the Philippines. For inquiries, information or bookings, call 896-1910, 816-7569, 0920-9048646, or e-mail inquiry@islandcaravan.com.

Handling Failure

I was the one who broke the bad news to a friend who was not in Manila when the bar exam results were released. I was talking to him on the phone as I read through the names – which did not include his.

I really didn’t know how to handle the situation. It was obvious from my voice that I was still excited from my own success, but at the same time, I had to show that I commiserate with his pain. And I really did. But how can one share in the pain while he is in extreme joy? Tell me.

There were other very close friends and some acquaintances of mine who suffered the same fate. Some of them even congratulated me but expressly asked not for me to text back. In my mind, I could hear them crying.

I wish I could in any way lessen the pain and depression, but I’m sure that no matter what I’d do, these are already etched in their hearts.

I know. I’ve had one failure too many. For years, I have lived through a challenge that until today doesn’t want to desert me. In my life, victories always come by installments.

I have yet to fully recover from the severe battering I got, but I’m living on. So, I hope my friends will find the same courage to just cruise through the pain. Maybe it would help if we all believe that there is a proper time for everything. Just allow the future to unfold and understand things from there.

I have earlier thought to send inspirational text messages but I decided otherwise. So, I hope my friends will not misunderstand the silence. I just think that at this time, any intrusion into their peace will only break their brittle resolve.

But I do hope to see them soon in brighter spirits.

A Lenten Trek

If there was one thing that really touched me during my entire bar exam struggle, it was the fact that there were just so many who prayed hard for me to make it.

When I reached home Holy Thursday, my first public appearance was in Church and I was overwhelmed by the warm reception of the people. It was clear from the faces of those who congratulated me (and it was like my entire hometown population) that my feat made them happy and proud. And they all shared in my victory because they all did their part in storming the gates of Heaven.

Before the grueling September exams, my brother Louie and cousin Elaine decided to visit all the chapels in our island town and prayed to all the patron saints of the barrios. They made a vow to return should I be blessed.

They made good on their promise on Good Friday, this time, with me in tow. And it was a refreshing experience. I was able to say my prayer of thanks and met people I have long missed.

We crossed hills, rocks, dirt roads and some sea under the scorching heat of the summer sun, but it did not tire us much. Maybe there was something in the activity that simply soothes the spirit.

for sure I was not able to thank all those who shared in my pleas for graces. So to all of them, I bow my head and offer my sincerest gratitude.

Maraming Salamat po!