Komikerang Kalabaw

I thought the scene was so rustic to pass up so I parked Jiminy da Cricket and waited for a nice shot. I ended up taking 35. She (I'm assuming it's a female because I saw a small one nearby) gleefully showed me how to enjoy a mud bath on a quiet afternoon.

(Hindi ako sexist. I just think a baby carabao would be near its mother because of his milk requirement). Naks! Defensive. Haha!

Ano ba ang tawag sa young carabao? Colt? Calf? Baby damulag na nga lang.









This post is for those who work abroad. Duke, Friedwater and Panaderos.

May this cheer you up and remind you of home, despite an irresponsible head of state and her ilk who choose to pursue their junket in the great US of A while we deal with the aftermath of typhoon Frank like a nation of headless chickens.

It's also for those who live and work in Manila but long for an extended weekend outside the city.

Pictures taken in Sta. Cruz, Zambales, June 2008.
Plagiarists are given hell on earth by people like me.
Pag ganitong nanalo ang babaerong boksingero, huwag painitin ang ulo ko.

Magulang

Gabi na nang matanggap ko ang text galing sa isang kaibigan na matagal ko nang di nakikita. Kumpare ko siya at nasa high school na ang inaanak ko. Itago natin siya sa pangalang akma sa kanya sa insidenteng ito.

BOPOL: Hey, tatakbo na student council president ang inanak mo. May idea ka kung ano ang magandang gimik?

ATTICUS: Mamigay ka na lang ng leaflets na may picture niya at i-outline niyo nang malinaw ang projects niya.

BOPOL: Standard na iyon. Mamimigay rin kami ng cookies. Lalagyan namin ng "From friends and supporters of Bopol Jr."

ATTICUS: Bribery iyan! Anong klaseng magulang ka? A form of vote-buying. Iyan ba ang itinuturo mo sa mga anak mo? Alam niyo namang pareho ng bata na hindi totoo na galing sa "friends and supporters" niya ang mga cookies.

BOPOL: Cookies lang naman ang laking issue na para sa iyo. Masyado kang JJ!

ATTICUS: At ikaw, masyado kang magulang!

Tsk. Hindi lahat ng tao, porke puwede, ay dapat na mag-anak at maging magulang. Sana may quality control din sa mga balak mag-anak. May qualifying tests dapat. Hay.

Humility route

We lost power the other day. The office was dark and in minutes, it began to get hot. No wifi. We waited for over an hour. Still no power. We tried going to a nearby restaurant to have Internet access, but the blackout hit them, too.

Then I blurted out some words of wisdom.

"Ano ba ito? Walang koryente. Walang wifi. Walang boyfriend. Walang sex. Walang farm. Walang farmhouse. Walang fun!"

The whole barangay that is the office laughed.

Two of us went to Trinoma to work there instead. After a few hours, I decided it was stupid to be in the mall and not see Kung Fu Panda. My second movie this year. Hah!

The following day, with Jiminy da Cricket still in the casa, I decided to walk home.

Tomas Morato was fine. It's E. Rodriquez that's tough. The smell of diesel and fumes hurt even my smoker's lungs.

There's a slice of city life in every corner.

There was a family of seven having dinner in a corner which they converted into their room for the night. There was an old man with hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes lying sideways on a wooden bar staring at the people and traffic that passed him by. Could it be that he spent his life this way, staring at people and life and letting it all pass him by? Or did one wrong decision bring him here?

There was dog poop and an open manhole in front of an old church which looked stoic amid dozens of old trees.

There were people competing for the last available seat on a jeepney driven by a road maniac. What's waiting for them at home? Why are we all in such a hurry that we snarl at those who unintentionally block our way? Then we end up snapping at those we find waiting for us at home, which was why we were rushing home in the first place.

I walked home again last night.

I reacquainted myself with myself, where I was years ago, as a working student who didn't know if the universe would bother to support my weight.

These walks tell me this: "Ang arte-arte mo. Koryente at wifi lang ang nawala, akala mo pinagkaisahan ka na ng planeta. Huwag ka ngang drama queen!"

4 AM

There are things that worry me every weekend. The greatest of them is not leaving the house.

I got home from a sudden date (sort of) at midnight last Friday. Unable to sleep, I fed the machine a couple of DVDs. Still unable to sleep, I read. Finally at 4 AM, I fell asleep. I woke up around noon and read. Then slept again.

I cooked. (I'm still alive. Proof that I can whip up something barely edible every now and then. You know, take care of me).

I turned the radio on to hear that "Frank" was beating the country senseless. A dam gave in Iloilo, and people were on rooftops, and no help was forthcoming. I listened to the radio and read. And read some more.

When it began to get dark, I realized I haven't ventured outside my flat. Not good. So I dragged myself out and went to an internet cafe. And read some more, this time about the storm.

My mother used to nag me about this, reading too much and not going out of the house.

I remember, in my early teens, she would warn me about a lady she knew who counted the times an electric fan's blades turned. At first I thought it involved a lot of math. Turn per second times 60. The old basic rules of physics. Later I learned that she meant it literally.

I hated then how she nagged me like a clucking chicken, shooing me out of the house. I hated how boys looked at me then, my boobs being too big for my age. I was awkward and boys intimidated me. (Yes, there was a time boys weren't afraid of me, and I was afraid of them. Get over it).

I went to bed early to read some more. It must have been hours before I finally fell asleep.

At 4 AM, I woke up to the sound of the wind howling, pushing against the glass of my seventh-floor flat. I turned the lights on and read again.

The lights went out at 5 AM. I rose and sat at my work table and watched the storm. The clouds moved so eerily fast, like some scene in a scary movie. There was nothing to see, there was a lot to see. The whole city was enveloped in white, with streaks of lightning every now and then.

I must have looked eerie, if there was anyone watching me this morning. A woman staring at nothing, from a window where she is almost visible, in the shadows.

The city looked so puny, and in so many ways, it is. I share that vulnerability, in more ways than one. I know I want to be out of here, that decision having been firmed up two years ago, when I saw the traffic on my way back from a fishing trip on my birthday.

As the wind and water lashed the city, I said a prayer for people who are drenched, unable to sleep. I knew there were many at that point.

This city has been kind to me, and continues to be so, accommodating me and my dreams, but I there has to be space for other dreamers. I am grateful, but I know there is another phase waiting for me.

I went back to bed and struggled to sleep. When it became light, I pushed the curtains aside and read again.

There was no power, still. A good excuse to get out and walk to buy coffee. At the coffee house, I read a newspaper.

I went back home and showered, then went out again. It was an effort, but really, I have to go out. I have to be out. I ducked inside a burger house and read the book I brought with me. I'm still reading, I know, but it's a lot better because at least I'm out of the house.

It takes a lot of effort to get out of the house. But I don't want to be counting the turning of the blades.

Careless

Sa isang malayong bayan sa Norte -- Iinterbyuhin ko si Meyor. Alas-nueve ang usapan. Dumating ako nang alas otso y medya. Propesyunal baga. Alas diyes y medya na, wala pa siya.

Ang opisina ni Meyor ay trailer van na may aircon. Ginagawa pa ang bago nilang munisipyo. Lahat ng walong staff niya, kasama niya. Walang naisisikreto. Halu-halo ang pabango at cologne na suot ng madla. Dinig din ang lahat ng usapan at transaksyon.

Nahiya na ako nang isang magpapakasal ang iniinterbyu. Masyado nang personal. Nag-alok ako na sa labas na lang maghihintay.

Sa labas, kasama ko sa mga nakahilerang mahahabang upuan ang isang mamasan at ang kanyang mga inakay. Sa isip ko, tinawag ko silang "Mother Hen" at ang kanyang mga "Chiklets." Para kasi silang mag-iina.

Ang siste pala sa bayang iyon, si Meyor mismo ang nag-iinterbyu sa mga GRO. Para matiyak na walang menor de edad.

Sa isang bansang iligal ang prostitusyon, di ba nakakatawang nag-aapply ng work permit ang mga commercial sex workers mula sa mga Meyor?

Huwag nang sagutin. Maliligaw tayo sa ibang usapan.

Nagkalumpunan sa paligid ng mga "Chicklets" ang mga macho ng munisipyo.

Sa tingin at mga komento, alam kong binabastos nila ang mga babae. May isa pang makailang beses naglakas-loob humipo sa isang babae. Sa isip ko, tinawag ko siyang "Pakang."

Pangit kasi siya at saka sakang.

Di naman nagrereklamo ang mga babae. Parang tinanggap na nila ang ganoong trato sa kanila. Magsinungaling man sila, alam kong nubenta porsiento sa kanila ay menor de edad at limitado pa ang karanasan. Kaya nga di sila marunong lumaban.

Nang may isa pang matandang lalaking nagsabi ng malaswang bagay sa isang batang GRO, naramdaman ko na ang babala: Nanlalamig ang mga kamay ko, at umiinit ang mukha ko.

Nang papasukin na kami, lalong naging agresibo si Pakang. Hinawakan ulit ang isang babae, idinikit ang nguso sa batok at parang may ibinulong, at idinikit ang kanyang harapan sa likod ng babae.

Ayun. Nawala na ako sa wisyo.

"Staff ka ba ni Meyor? Bakit ganyan ka, ang liit ng trato mo sa kanila? Nandito lang naman sila para makipag-transaksyon sa munisipyo, at kayo, ang trabaho niyo lang ay magbigay ng serbisyo publiko. Kung anuman ang trabaho nila, labas na iyon sa usapan," sabi ko. Alam ko nanginginig ako.

Si Pakang naman, nagulat. Mukhang hindi sanay mailagay sa puwesto.

Nilapitan ako ng isang staff na babae ni Meyor. "Halika, interbyuhin mo na si Meyor. Isumbong mo sa kanya. Aide niya iyan. Pulis," sabi niya, na parang sinusulsulan ako.

Ayos! Kaya naman pala hindi mailagay sa puwesto. Pulis pala.

Mga isang oras ang interbyu. Nang matapos na, sinabi ko kay Meyor: "Sir, huwag kang magtatampo, ha? Kasi isusumbong ko lang po, iyong isang staff niyo, binabastos iyong mga babae kanina."

"Sir, si Alvin po iyong tinutukoy niya," sabi ng staff na nanunulsol sa akin.

Makalipas ang ilang minutong paliwanagan: "Thank you for letting me know. I'll deal with it," sabi ni Meyor. Huwaw! Impeccable English. Impeccable public service.

Hinanap ko sa munisipyo ang isang source ko. Ibinigay ko sa kanya ang mga papeles na dapat ay ihahatid ko sa isa pang source, na siyam na kilometro ang layo mula sa main road ang bahay. Ipinakiusap ko na lang na iabot niya sa hiniraman ko ng dokumento.

Walang lingon-likod, umalis ako sa bayan na iyon. Malaking pasasalamat ko na nakaalis ako nang walang mga bala at saksak sa likod ko.

Siguro naman, sa susunod, magiging mas maayos na ang trato nila sa mga babae.

Kuripot

Nasa mall kami sa Bangkok. Naligaw kami sa lugar na puro mahirap ispelengin ang pangalan. Gucci. DKNY. Blahnik.

"Bakit sila, ang dami nilang perang pambili ng ganyan?" sabi ni Malou.
"Oo nga eh. Ano kaya ang trabaho nila? Dapat iyon din ang trabaho natin," sabi ko.

Naglakas-loob kaming tingnan ang presyo ng ilang itinitinda. Blouse na maganda, 1,500 baht. Mga 50 US dollars.

"Ang mahal naman!" sabi ni Malou.
"Oo nga, alis na tayo. Nangangati ako rito," sabi ko.

Kumain kami sa kalye, 40 baht ang fried rice at ulam.

Tapos naglakad kami pauwi. Mahal ang taxi. Ang bigat ng mga librong nabili namin, sa halagang mahigit 10,000 baht kapag pinagsama-sama.

Kanya-kanyang prayoridad lang talaga sa buhay. Hehe!

Ang bagong kinakarir ko: dalawang libro na sulat ni Barack Obama, at isang libro tungkol sa 85 taon ng mga manunulat sa Time Magazine. Sa halagang halos 2,000 baht.

(At hindi. Wala akong balak ipahiram o ipahipo kahit kanino ang mga bagong libro ko. Nadala na ako. Bawal ding puntahan ang bahay ko ng mga kababaihan diyan na mahilig mag-raid ng library ko. Shoooo!)

Shutting down a country

The lady beside me fidgeted with the seatbelt. I tried to ignore her and proceeded to read. I wish planes become passe within my lifetime, edged out by virtual bilocation. I made that term up. Beam me up, Scotty.

She refused the airline food, which was wise, really. But the stewardess sensed the rejection was more out of embarrassment than elevated food preferences. She watched me as I gobbled up my food, the fatty beef variety. I was so hungry I could eat a cow. I was, albeit bit by bit. Gram by gram.

Seeing that eating airline food wasn't really a complicated operation, she finished her meal.

I decided to be nice and we talked. She's 35, leaving behind her two kids who are in grade school. She's going to Greece to work, to live with the mother she last saw when she too, was in grade school.

Her mom and dad have different partners now, their marriage unable to withstand the years of separation. Who marries and leaves, anyway? What is a marriage when ten years is equivalent to just months of being together?

Her husband is a seaman, spending years at sea. Being together is impossible: His ship does not dock in Greece.

"You are repeating your mother's story," I said.
"Yes, I am. Can't be helped," she says. She sees her own marriage falling apart in a couple of years, if it hasn't already.

At the Bangkok airport, I taught her how to look for her next flight, which, being 12 hours away, still wasn't on the board. She thanked me for showing her how to navigate her way around the airport.

Hours after I arrived in Manila, Friedwater said he's packed his life and suitcases and is at the airport, boarding a plane bound for New Zealand.

Should any government official again proclaim that thousands of Filipinos were shipped or flown to foreign shores this year like it is a matter of national pride, sunugin sana sa impyerno ang kaluluwa niyo. May your lives and the lives of your those you love be miserable.

For generations now, our government has done nothing to prevent mothers, fathers, sons and daughters from taking the option that rends families apart - working abroad.

More than 50 percent of Filipino families are either bereft of a mother or a father or both. Our best minds are abroad. We might as well declare bankruptcy and shut our country down.

Leaving on a jet plane

Ako'y magpapaalam muna. Kailangan kong dumalo sa isang pulong sa labas ng bansa. Sasakay ng eroplano. May baon na banyagang salapi sa bulsa. Magsasalita ng wikang banyaga.

Ayoko ng biyahe sa labas ng bansa dahil sa trabaho. Mas gusto ko kapag para sa pag-aaral o kaya pamamasyal lang talaga.

Hanggang sa muli. Babalik ako sa Martes.

Huwag kang umasa ng pasalubong. Inimbento ang salitang kuripot para sa akin.

Kita-kits. Mami-miss ko si...Jiminy da Cricket ko.

Over 30 years ago

this came out over thirty years ago. joey, the little kid, must be a mom with her own kids by now. if she is, i'm sure she's raising nice kids like her. kids who say "i love you" after pissing off a naked green frog with a bib. kids who easily say "oh, thanks!" with a kiss when they are told they are loved back.

this still makes me smile. after all these years.



yeah, i love kermit and cookie monster and the count and grover and elmo. i still wanna watch them.

Unicorn

The Tres Lokas voted for this one, with a lot of online research by Koryn. I'm guessing she did it using official time and resources. One network's time and resources. Pat even added her voice to the email exchange, which is a miracle. For one, she's always busy. And with a baby on the way, she must be very busy.

I never thought I can rely on these girls for anything involving my wrist. Especially since it's attached to me. Thanks, girls.

I'll probably ask the tattoo person to make the unicorn smile. I'll get this done third week of July.

Let me explain a bit. The Horse is something that my clan is identified with. I love the magic in unicorns. This tattoo is a lot about me and where I came from. And where I am going.

BTW, I just saw a movie tonight. The second with Galadriel. The second in ages. The first one was that Tagalog film I choose to forget. She's so determined I get accustomed to the dark innards of a movie house again.

I also got me my first red sneakers. Not the one I really want, but this will do for the meantime.

Of course I forgot where I parked. Asows. Asa pa. Galadriel was pissed of course, the lady who coined the word "organize," at me, the creature who coined "chaos."

Happily, I didn't say I parked at lane "P." Which sent Angel's mom to Fury lane.

I had a good weekend, come to think of it.

Next assignment: teach Galadriel how to play pool. Yep, that sport which an ex said was "panglalaki lang." He lost to me. Not once. Not twice. A lot of times.

If you're wondering where this is going...I'm watching Tom and Jerry on DVD. There's no point to this one. I'm just recording my day.

I hope you had a good one.