Nutribun children

I was in grade four when it started coming during recess, saving me from the daily embarrassment of not being able to buy anything from the canteen or from not being able to open a lunchbox with aplomb like my better off classmates did. Instead, I left the school and pretended to go home to eat.

I just found a place outside the school where I could be alone and waited for the bell to ring again so I could go back to class and try to make it look like I've eaten a cow. In reality, I was really, painfully hungry.

Nutribun. I wonder if it was really nutritious. One thing for sure, it saved a lot of kids like me from dropping out of school, which to me, even at that young age, was the bigger embarrassment.

Dropping out of school was a sword over my head all the time, having grown up hearing my godmother warning me against growing up "mangmang" (illiterate, uneducated), all the time. Her incessant warnings about being "mangmang" when I was just six probably propelled me to try to stay in school as long as I can, and to read as much as I still do.

The things that scare us as kids can either destroy us or make us better adults.

I write this after presenting over 60 slides under the heading Mindanao in Numbers.

I wonder if those Nutribuns were mired in corruption. Marcos was still in office and probably, thinking it was a clean purchase is like looking for snowballs and eskimos in Tandang Sora.

The good thing is that I don't think there was melamine in the milk they used to give us along with the Nutribuns.

I asked my older friends why we had Nutribuns then. Were we going hungry as a country?

They said it was an offshoot of a terrible time, when kids were going hungry before, during and after a massive economic problem that hit us, the type that sent millions to long lines for cheaper rice and gasoline.

That sounds familiar. It's like our headline yesterday. We keep recycling our headlines, dammit. We never learn.

I write this depressed. You don't discuss 63 slides, three PDF files, and four Excel files showing how bad Mindanao's numbers are and feel buoyant.

I wish I have a Nutribun and melamine-free milk to drive away the gloom. It reminds me of the past when we as a village kept our kids in school and no one was left behind.

The sea and children's health

I was looking at the data on nutrition when something caught my eye: 26 percent of kids aged 0-5 in my province (Zambales) are malnourished.

I've always thought there's no way one will go hungry in Zambales. Our backyards are our source of food. We grow our own greens. We also raise chickens and pigs and goats and cows. We have mangoes we can sell during summer.

The long coastline, the violent South China Sea, provides us with the fish we need.

Yes, the open sea.

Come to think of it, I think it is a major contributing factor to malnutrition. I think during rainy seasons, those living along the coasts are unable to venture out and gather food. Save for two I think, all of Zambales's 14 towns and one city hug the South China Sea.

Added to that is the not-so great interest of local officials in statistics. I don't think the province has local officials with management background to make them care enough for numbers and strategies.

Zambales is being pummeled by another storm as I write this. A long string of storms have hit the province, and more are expected. With global warming, the number is bound to go up.

Others who have worse numbers than Zambales are Makati (66%), Bohol (57.11%), Antique (55%), Mt. Province (52.35%), and Zamboanga del Norte, (50.88%)

I'll be out of town for four days beginning tomorrow. Take care, y'all. Ingat.

Isang batang baliw

Noong unang panahon, isang apat na taong batang babae ang konsumisyon ng tatay niya. Lagi siyang inuutusang bumili sa tindahan, na malapit lang naman, pero kahit ilang ulit nang sinabi sa kanya ang bibilhin niya, laging isa lamang sa mga bagay na ito ang binibili niya.


"Ibili mo ako ng sigarilyo, gas para sa gasera, at saka kandila," sabi minsan ng tatay niya.

Bumalik ang bata na gas lang ang dala. (May lalagyan kasi, kaya iyon lang siguro ang natandaan niya).

"Ano ba ang gagawin ko sa anak kong ito?" himutok ng tatay niya.
"Ilista mo na lang kasi para hindi niya makalimutan," payo ni misis.

Hindi pa rin nakinig ang tatay. Gusto yata talagang ipilit na maisaulo ng bata ang mga bibilhin.

Minsan, isang bagay lang ang ipinabili ng tatay, ang gas para sa gasera.

Umuwi ang bata na may dalawang bagay na dala: gas at tinapay na maganda ang itsura. Pero hindi naman niya kinagatan o binawasan ang tinapay. Ang epekto nito, konti lang ang gas na nabili niya.

"Bakit ko binili iyong tinapay, 'Nay?" tanong ko sa nanay ko kagabi sa telepono.
"Wala. Nagandahan ka lang," sabi niya.
"Ano ang sabi ni Tatay?"
"Wala. Natawa na lang," sabi niya.


Limang taon apat na buwang taong gulang pa lang ako nang pinatay sina Tatay at Lolo. Pero ang daming nakakatuwang kuwento naming dalawa, na natatandaan ko mismo.

Iyan ang dahilan kung bakit lagi akong may dalang notebook, at may stickies na laging kinukonsulta. Bata pa lang pala ako, makalilimutin na ako.

Susku.

Past forward

A and I dated for almost two years a long time ago. I think I broke his heart.

We parted as friends, he being the gentleman who was taking a flight to a new life in LA in two weeks. We could have pushed it further, but I figured what the heck was that going to do? What for?

What I am omitting here is that before he could tell me he was leaving, I told him there was a new guy I liked and I wanted a clean slate. I didn't want a crutch. I didn't want to cheat.

Before I get labeled a two-timing bitch here, let me say A and I were in what was conveniently called an open relationship. I don't know if he saw other women. I don't think he did. He was so busy with the business he just set up, and didn't want the prospect of being hampered by the demands of a serious relationship.

I, on the other hand, was too busy trying to prove I deserved a typewriter in the newsroom. I also hate emotional complications so I didn't date anyone else. A was enough.

To complete the picture, A is over a decade older than me, and at the time, I just emerged from being 20, alone, insecure and afraid, trying to be brave in a city I knew so little about. You can tell whose idea it was to have an open relationship. I was too clumsy and unsophisticated to come up with a set up like that.

I liked A because well, he is smart. Very smart. Very insightful. Very articulate. An electrical engineer from one of those expensive schools, he was at the top of the board exams.

He is also a total gentleman who rode a BMW 1000cc bike. We went out for bike rides every other Tuesday. I kept trying to recall why we went out on dates on Tuesdays, then I remembered that that was my day off when I was starting out as a newswriter.

Every other Tuesday, at four or five in the morning, he would knock on the door of the dorm room I shared with another girl who was working as a newswriter in another network.

The bike rides took us to as far as Nueva Vizcaya or Caliraya Lake. He was irritated by the fact that bikes of all sizes were barred from both expressways. He argued that some bikes are faster than cars. We'd have breakfast, lunch and dinner in small shack eateries, sharing meals and stories with truck drivers from all over Luzon.

I lived for those bike rides. It gave me respite from the fast-paced demands of the newsroom. Those bike rides also convinced me that I should take pictures, as they gave me images of beautiful countrysides waiting to be captured.

We rarely fought, though I whined and stomped like a spoiled little brat when he showed up in a car and not the bike. He laughed out loud when I wore my helmet inside his car to protest the air-conditioned ride instead of the kick ass motorcycle. He pleaded that I take the helmet off, saying people might think he's a really bad car driver.

Anyway, I found A again this weekend. He wrote an article on the cross-country bike rides he did in some continent. He's still the skinny nerd I dated, but now sports a few white whiskers for a beard. I saw an email at the end of the article.

"I still remember when you were looking for Fr. Balweg and we went to Nueva Ecija looking for him!" he replied to my tentative questions trying to establish if he's the A who shared bike rides with me. "I hope you are fine and keeping yourself out of trouble," he added. Damn. That sounds like me. It IS him.

What he remembers about me speaks volumes about who I was then and who I am now: crazy, curious, unmindful of the dangers, always wanting answers.

It's nice to bump into a person who is a pleasant part of the past.

Literacy, libro, at lotto

Kuha kanina. Aquino Museum, Tarlac City.

Iminaneho ko si Jiminy da Cricket papuntang Tarlac. Trabaho. Nang pauwi na, dumaan sa SM Clark. May sale sa National Bookstore doon. May mga librong P100 o P75 lang.

Ito ang ilan sa mga binili ko:
Citizen Vince by Jess Walter = P100 (Ang daming award na libro noong 2005)
Crisis: The Anatomy of Two Major Foreign Policy Crises by Henry Kissinger = P75 (Grabe. Kissinger's unpublished phone conversations during the Yom Kippur War and the Vietnam war)
Profiles of Photographers and Filmmakers by Macmillan Press = P100 (Profiles over 120 film and photography artists)
The Tibetan Art of Serenity by Christopher Hansard = P150

Tapos bumili rin ako ng dalawang pambatang libro para kay Dessa, anak ni Yolly na staff namin sa opisina. Nasa grade one na siya at gusto kong maging mahilig siya sa pagbabasa.

Noong Sabado, bumili rin ako ng The Lucifer Effect ni Philip Zimbardo (P550) at isang libro ni Haruki Murakami. Sikat na sikat si Murakami pero di ko pa siya nababasa. Hindi mura si Murakami. P880 ang libro niya. What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. Mas mahal ang libro niya sa lahat ng librong nabili ko ngayong linggong ito. Si Zimbardo naman, baka makatulong siyang ipaliwanag sa akin kung bakit kahit ang mga matitino, o akala ko ay matitino, kapag napasok sa Palasyo ay nagiging demonyo.

Kailan kaya magkakaroon ng mahabang weekend para mabasa ko ang mga ito?

Si Dessa, sana lumaki siyang mahilig magbasa. Lagi ko siyang ibinibili ng libro, at agad niyang binabasa ang mga bigay ko. Mga babasahing pambata. Coloring books na may puzzles. Crayons at coloring books.

Ang malungkot, sa edad niyang pito, ang kapal na ng salamin niya. May magagawa kaya ang ibang doktor para sa mata niya? Siya iyong batang laging nauuntog noong nag-aaral pa lang maglakad, kaya naghinala ang mga magulang niya na may problema siya sa mga mata. Ngayon, halos isang pulgada na yata ang kapal ng salamin niya. Siguro dapat ilapit ko sa ibang doktor ang kaso niya. Sana hindi mahal. Tingin ko, matalino siya. Dapat matulungan. Sana may laser surgery na puwede, at sana hindi masyadong mahal.

Naniniwala akong ang edukasyon at pagbabasa ang unang hakbang para makaalis sa kahirapan ang isang tao. Marunong nang magbasa si Dessa.

Noong isang linggo, may isang batang nasa high school na ang nalaman kong di pa marunong magbasa ng relo. Di niya alam ang oras ng pasok niya. "Basta, umaga," sabi niya nang tanungin ko kung ano ang oras ng pasok niya sa eskuwela. Siya iyong isa sa mga batang nasa Tomas Morato na nag-aalok na ihatid ka sa kotse mo at papayungan ka kapalit ng P5. High school na siya, pero mas matangkad pa sa kanya si CJ na apat na taon pa lang, halos apat na ruler na ang taas. Alam kong kulang siya sa nutrisyon.

Paano na kaya ang susunod na henerasyon?

Kung kaya ko lang, magbubukas ako ng library para sa mga bata at magtuturong magbasa. Pag tumama ako sa lotto siguro. Pero dapat tumaya muna ako.

Hay.

Puzzle

I've been thinking about this for days now.

In 2000-2003, the Family Income and Expenditure Survey (FIES) reports that Filipino families earned an average of P148,616, up 2.5 percent from P145,121 in 2000.

Here's what I find puzzling: the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao posted a hike of 6.7 percent during the period. From P79,110 in 2000 to P84,439 in 2003.

Here's the source of my confusion: How can the ARMM chalk up a growth rate higher than the national average in a period marked by an all out war? Remember that this was the time Estrada declared an all-out war against the MILF.

I called the National Statistical Coordination Board. They say they merely collate the data submitted by the National Statistics Office. It's the NSO that does the survey, the NSCB puts them all together. They just gather the numbers, but do not take into account the factors that explain the downward or upward movement.

I asked my other friends but they, too, are at a loss. But they did offer some theories, from the naughty to the sensible. No, I am not listing them down here.

Saan nanggaling ang taas sa kita ng ARMM noong panahon na iyon?

Any theories? Anyone?

Please?

The printed word

The phone beside me rings. I pick it up and listen to a young girl's teeny voice.
"Ma'am, ask ko lang po if you like, need a writer," she says.
"Wala. Wala kaming bakante," I said.
"Sino iyon?" someone asked.
"Ma'am, ask ko lang po if you like, need a writer," I mimic the caller.
"Ang sungit mo!" they said, laughing.

The call reminds me of a writer who received a text message that went like this: "ser, do u nid a prufrider. i wud like to aply. ken i drop by wid my resume?"
The writer responded" "No, and please, don't."

I think the printed word as we know it is slowly dying, losing out to the mangled text lingo that only a handful of us "old people" understand.

What books will the next generation read?

The gospel according to John (Mayer)

Weeks ago I bought a two-cd live package of this kid. I like him a lot better when he sings live.



I listen to him in the car, at home, while working. Him and Jason Mraz.
I once forgot I had a passenger and he laughed out loud when I started singing like I'm on my way out of town to go fishing. You get the picture.
I think my neighbors are likely to call the asylum soon.
Tsk. I hate straitjackets.

Good bro

I was thinking someone would give someone a whack within this one-minute video. Instead, these kids gave me lessons in pain, anger management, charm, kindness, forgiveness, and laughter.



Ang galing ng kuya ni Charlie. Walang bagahe. Well-adjusted kahit bata pa.

Dreams of the blue tartol

I woke up to the sound of rain slapping the glass panel near my bed. I peeked out and saw rain-drenched streets. It would have been grand to linger, lie back down again and read and sleep but I have work.

Driving to the office, I languidly wished for a phone call telling me work's suspended but we don't work that way.

Over lunch, we kidded about "my maids." Long story. Will explain later.

"How many maids do you have?" one of the staff asked me.
"Hmmmmm...." I said, "Hmmm...day shift?"
Someone choked on her food. Everyone laughed.
"Over 200 day shift maids," I said.
"Is Max still there?" someone asked.
"Oh, Max, he'll always be around. He will always have a special place in my villa," I said.

I love my dreams, no matter how I always exaggerate (mangle) them.

Dreams are free anyway. Non-VAT too. Inflation-resistant. Smile-inducing.

Gotta go back to work now. It's my immediate reality.

Ano ang silbi ng sign na ito? Pampahusay umilag? Pampanerbyos habang namamasyal?
(Kuha sa Intramuros Agosto 2008)

Things and what they (may) mean

A journalist friend went to Indonesia and came back with this shirt for me. Says when she saw it, she thought of no one but me. Wadahek. I think it's fair enough. Hay. The way people see me talaga. (The subtext here is that my story ideas often get me into trouble).

My friends say they will soon wear shirts proclaiming "I am not JJ" in front. At the back it will say "And neither is she my friend."

That's because of the story we published recently.

I relish the thought that despite all these, my cactus remains loyal to me. It still hasn't left its perch. If it grows legs, it might walk out on me too, I'm afraid.


This one I've always wanted to buy.

During my working student days, one of my many dreams was to be able to afford a dinner in that restaurant with singing cooks and waiters along Quezon Avenue. It's gone now. The restaurant I mean. But I was able to dine there a couple of times. It's funny how things and places seem overrated after you acquire them. In my case, it must be the intensity of dreaming and pursuing them.

This watch remains a dream, though. You know, it's nice to have unrealized dreams. They make you work harder. After paying off my car - just six more months - I'll start saving up for this one. (This one is worth over P60,000)

Next dream: world domination. Anong world peace? Ano ako, kandidato sa Miss Universe? How so not me! Tse.

You're so kaka

"Sa pag-alis sa evacuation center at pag-uwi sa kanyang bahay, balik na sa normal ang buhay ni Aling Barang."

How profound naman the writer and the reporter here. How insightful. Like, you know, they're so sure that after a village is used by soldiers and rebels as paintball practice area (using live bullets and bombs, with the occasional duds), life is spiffy again once the people people whose lives were sidetracked by the war are back in town.

Yeah, you know, your house is full of bullet holes but you're home so you're back to normal nga naman. How deep an analysis of the events do you want ba naman? Sure, you lost a husband or a carabao but since you're home, your life is back on track. Hello?

Whoever wrote it, and whoever let it pass and let it air, please stop writing for a while and process the idea you're passing off as news. You're so kaka. As in kakahiya. Or kakairita.

By the way, it's "nangyari" and not "kaganapan." There's a dic...you know, a dictionary in your newsroom? Like, you might want to use it? Words and their meanings are like, listed there?

"Nag-rally ang mga Kristiyano..."

You are really so kaka. Read muna the MOA thingie before you brand it as a religious issue. Or you know, like, read columns and listen to experts before you type? Kasi, what you write has impacts, eh. Yeah, like they call it fomenting a religious war? It's also called irresponsible? Like, how many Catholics take your stories as gospel truth and start looking at people of other religion with evil eyes?

Nga pala, why are reporters always seen in stories? Like, you know, cutaways? Like, 50 seconds in a 1-minute report? He may be guapo or guapa but...like...are they the story?

Also, nice expensive outfit. Yes, it perhaps lessens the ugly visual impact of war when reporters wear, like, a fiery red hot outfit while going around an evacuation center. Or a typhoon-ravaged place.

Yeah. You know, the story is tragic. But at least the reporter on the scene looks hot.

Ang reporter ba ang istorya, o ang nangyari? Baka kailangang bisitahin ang panuntunan na ito.

Also, please stop using the personal pronoun (panghalip) "siya" for inanimate objects.

Use "ito" for things.

Repeat after me: "Siya" is for people. "Ito" is for things.

Don't massacre the language on primetime news. It has, you know, impact? Like, you perpetuate errors, for like, generations?

You are so kaka.

Hindi puwede sa accounting ang Tagalog

Kinailangan kong kausapin ang mga humahawak ng pera ng opisina kailan lang. Hindi ko sila maintindihan dahil sa lengguwahe nilang pang-kanila lang. Naiiwan ako sa usapan at di ko mahabol ang tinatakbo ng diskusyon.

Kaya nag-research ako. Nakita ko ito kailan lang.

Lalong lumawak ang pang-unawa ko dahil dito. Hahaha!

Asset - Ari
Fixed Asset - Nakatirik na ari
Liquid Asset - Basang ari
Solid Asset - Matigas na ari
Owned Asset - Sariling pag-aari
Other Asset - Ari ng iba
False Asset - Ari-arian
Miscellaneous Asset - Iba-ibang klaseng ari
Asset Write off - Pinutol na pag-aari
Depreciation of Asset - Laspag na pag-aari
Fully Depreciated Asset - Laspag na laspag na pag-aari
Earning asset - Tumutubong pag-aari
Working Asset - Ganado pa ang ari
Non-earning Asset - Baldado na ang ari
Erroneous Entry - Mali ang pagkakapasok
Double Entry - Dalawang beses ipinasok
Multiple Entry - Labas pasok nang labas pasok
Correcting Entry - Itinama ang pagpasok
Reversing Entry - Baligtad ang pagkakapasok
Dead Asset - Patay na ang ari

Sorry, Friedwater

Oist. Friedwater. Nagbabala ka na noon: "Maghunus-dili ka ungas. Mahal ang tiket pa-Pinas. Huwag ka nang tumira ng politiko. Kahit nakakaasar ka, pag nawala ka, mababawasan ng nakakaasar. Joke lang."

Pasensiya na. Masarap magsulat. Pag nasimulan mo na, kadalasan wala nang lingon-likod.

Ang babae sa bintana

Kung may nanonood sa akin sa bintana ko gabi-gabi, malamang tumawag na siya sa mental at ipinakulong ako. Kung minsan kasi, nagsasayaw ako. O kaya nakatunganga sa kawalan.

Noong isang gabi, iba ang ginawa ko. Nagmadali akong umuwi kasi napansin ko, kumikidlat. Katsak. Katsak. Katsak. Mga halos dalawandaang katsak.

Nanigas ang kamay ko sa pagkuha ng litrato. Wala akong tripod. Hay. Nanigas ang braso at balikat at leeg ko.

Hindi ko alam ang setting ng camera na dapat gamitin.

Huli na nang mag-text si May: "Setting B dapat, and use your tripod."

Anak ng. Wala na ang mga kidlat.

Eto lang ang matino sa lahat ng katsak.




Sa susunod, alam ko na ang gagawin ko.

Tapos sasabihin niyo, magaling na ako. Hindi na kayo tatawag sa mental.