Chalk Works

Yesterday, to while the time away, me and my wife painted the chalk casts of Sesame Street characters we bought sometime ago in a flea market in Manila. The result is pictured above. They are not exactly works of arts- well, the casts are actually giveaways for a milk formula for toddlers on a promotion several months ago, and somehow the unused items must have been sold instead. Even the water colors that came in the boxes with the casts have dried-up and would not mix even with hot water. Nevertheless, it provided us a good time together at home and at the same time relieved me of stress from work (blame it on my new graveyard shift). It sure was a delight to see all three casts done well. The activity took no more than an hour to finish, but it was one quality time together that we could be reminded of everytime we see the casts. The only thing is that we couldn't get a cast of my favorite Sesame Street character- Elmo.

A THOUGHT ON A RAINY NIGHT

How come rainy nights makes your thoughts go wild? Last night it was raining hard and while my wife was still in the living room, I already was in bed trying to get myself to sleep as I have work tomorrow. I opened the windows so that I can listen to the sound of the rain to help me get sleepy. Various thoughts run into my head, and one got stuck.

Several years ago, my mother have just died then, I fell into a big depression and have sort of become a recluse. I just finished college then and was in the process of looking for a job. All the time I want to be by myself and I have avoided my friends altogether. My mother's death was such a major loss to me as I was the youngest; and, yes, I admit I am a mama's boy. Well, it can be said for both my parents as they do love me being their youngest child. To while away my time, I got into activities that will not require any companion, and one of them was fishing.

One early summer morning, I was inspecting my motorcycle for a fishing trip to the next town on one of my favorite spots. Our neighbor's son came up next to me watching me as I go about checking the motorcycle. He was a few years younger than I am, so I really am not very close to him despite being neighbors. All the while he kept asking me questions about where I will be doing and about fishing in general. As I was about to wrap up the inspection, he popped the question that I was afraid he was going to ask-- that if he can come with me. I thought he doesn't have classes as it was summer vacation, and I'm pretty sure his parents wouldn't mind. That was a start of a wonderful friendship that sadly only lasted about a couple of years.

We have grown so fond of each other that there isn't a day that passes that we don't spend at least a few hours together. That even during his school days. We are quite confident about our sexuality and I am sure it was not anything about romantic or sexual affection. It could be that I sort of have seen in him the youngest sib I never had; and in me hoe sort of have seen someone to emulate. He took after me not only the love for fishing but other things as well such as skateboarding, nature trekking, and even my passion for electronic music. Through him, I also began to mingle with neighborhood kids. Most of my neighborhood friends my age either already have families of their own and have moved out, or they have relocated somewhere else. That was the reason I don't have many friends in the neighborhood. I do have regular friends though and they always have been there for me all those times.

My neighbor friend however, who goes by the pet name of Tantan, has become almost like a next of kin to me. A little brother, even, which is closer than I could ever get with my friends. Almost the instance we became friends, he lifted me up away from depression and I have become more and more amicable and outgoing.

There was no permanent jobs available in the town then during the course of our friendship, and I hopped from one job to another. Then later I did land a semi-permanent job managing an internet cafe and as a resident dj for a club at night. Having these two jobs though took a toll on our friendship as I rarely have anymore time to spend with him. Soon after he just stopped seeing me and I have then moved out of our house to live on my own apartment near to my place of work. Still furthermore I then met my wife and we have decided to live together. I have completely forgotten about Tantan as we finally moved here in Metro Manila for my current job.

That was until last night. I was thinking if I have been a good friend to him. He helped me out of my depression and we shared so many good times together, and all I did was forget all about him in time. I don't even know where he is now or if he even got married already. I am prettty sure he already have finished schooling by now, or at least in his last years in college. I also don't know if he is already working or if his family still is living in the neighborhood.

Lookie, Lookie!

The trouble with life is that you eventually get old. The promise of fountain of youth of even the most expensive of creams and facial rituals simply cannot hold back the effects of gravity and time on your skin tissues. That unless you are willing to go under the knife and be immortally without age. Throw in stress and vices and you overtime get to look like your parents as you remember them when you were still a young child. It's not that I'm so vain I want to hold on to my youthful self for as long as I want. Simply, appearance does play a big role on how people perceive you these days when self-advertisement is all the rave. By the time you reach thirty you might as well be on your way to retirement in a few years and be a recluse hermit. Although I consider myself luckier than most of my bunch, all because compared to them I still am pretty much in better shape. Many people still say I look at least ten years younger than my real age. They even are suprised whenever I tell them my age, which is mid-30s already. Or at least this is true seeing me within a distance fit for a casual conversation. If they were a bit closer they would have found otherwise. Well, I think you can only do so much, including denial of real age that I seem to be on now, before this reality of life catches up to you. Or else you end being taken for a senile 40 year old.

MUSGLE

Not that I don't have respect for intellectual rights, but I do admit I am addicted to downloading music files from the internet for free. Rest assured though that if I do like the track I make sure i do get an original copy whether through download or a CD. Formerly I use P2P clients like Shareaza or Soulseek, but recently my computer has been acting up for the longest time and I am left with my phones only to connect to the internet. Luckily, I always get very fast connection from our house using Globe Telecom's 3G/HSDPA network. It is amazing to know that I am able to download at least five full tracks ranging from 3 to 7 megabytes in no more than 15 minutes.

 

There are a lot of ways you can download from the internet without using P2P clients. Mostly it is by using free online storage/file sharing sites such as 4Shared and eSnips, but it is a tedious process mostly and you are limited to only to that network's inventory. I have since found a site called Wuzam, which is able to pull a search online on these storage sites and file sharing networks and just simply list them on the search results. You can just then click to download the file. And then again there also are limitations to what Wuzam can find.

 

An online friend indirectly taught me a way to hack into sites using Google by just searching for media indeces with some codes that instructs the Google spider or search engine to look specifically for these indeces. These indeces are otherwise not available for public viewing as websites or webmasters simply choose to present them in more user-friendly interface rather than just bare texts. The codes are flexible so that you also can search for videos and others with specific file types.

 

While using the process one day, I found a site which offers exactly the same process without having to go through typing the search parameters or codes manually into the search field on Google. The site is called Musgle (www.musgle.com), and it does exactly what the search code do. For people like me who are not that good in computer logic it is a big convenience. The way I do it before I found this site is that I have manually configured the codes to look for specific file types, leaving just blank variables such as artist names or song titles, and saved them on an online note so that I can just copy and paste it on the search field. Although I have kept copies of the notes still, I have since used the site to pull the searches for me.

HOME SWEET HOME

With the daily rat race I am on, it is not very impossible to miss home. For all the two years I have lived here I still don't feel I'm cut out for the big city life. I miss the simple and laid back life at home. I don't know. Even back then I have never stopped working since after college, the same nine-hour jobs and sometimes even more, but still it seemed more tiring to work here in Metro Manila. I guess there really is no place like home.

True. My work here allowed me to earn more and acquire more material things; and my wife and I should be living comfortably now. There even was a thought before that in time we'd get over missing home, but I have seen otherwise with most people I know who have migrated and lived here from the countryside. There always will be a yearning to be home for at least a few days at a time.

It's not that we have never been home those past two years. I am allowed four weeks' worth of vacation each year by my employer and we have twice gone home for vacation since. The only reason I am a bit more missing home now is that because we have planned a vacation some three months ago, and the leave I filed at the office was not approved then. The next time I can file for a vacation will still be in December, which is still some months away, and still it is subject for approval. With each passing day I miss more and more the feeling of having white powdery sand in places I can't mention, the freshness of morning breeze, soaking away beneath a waterfall, trekking in forest and mountain trails, and eating my ever favorite home-made "suman sa ibos".

Those simple things that may not amount to any endearment or attachment to if you're back home are seemed the ones you tend to miss most. Even things as simple as your old house clothings and your favorite spot in the house-- when you're away it creates a huge gap that can't be filled in by anything else.

Well, you may argue that I should have stayed home instead if I didn't want to be away from them; take into account, however, the fact that there are more opportunities for financial and career growth in the big cities than in the countrysides. As for my case, the money I am earning now from my job is equal is a little less than the worth I am earning with my day and night jobs back home and also that of my wife's job altogether.

On my commute to work early this morning, the bus I am on was picking up passengers from the bus stop when I noticed this homeless man sitting in a corner with his belongings in two large bags. He seemed cold and hungry and was all grimy as you would expect from those living off the street. From his looks he seemed to be in his forties. As I do usually whenever I see homeless people, I felt very sorry for him. It came to my thought as the bus moved on that he could also from the countryside, like most people here in the metropolis, and also wanting to go home like me. He must have failed to make a success here and now is wanting to go home but have got no money.

Somehow, I though I should feel better having known that there are other people who are more unfortunate than I am. I simply don't have the time to go home, while others don't even have the money for it. Still I feel terrible and quite worried about the man. I should have boarded off the bus and at least bought him something to eat, or even a cup of hot coffee as he was cold. He sort of stirred something inside of me that makes me want to do something about people like him. I always have felt sorry for homeless people and have sworn that if only I am financially well-off I could have helped some. Our parents have taught us to always have respect for others and much more for others' dignity. Certainly, people who are living off the street must be feeling a bit less dignified than most other.

Stories of failure are very common in the big cities from those who came from the countryside for the proverbial greener pasture. There could be many of them who are stuck here and are without the financial capability to go home. Perhaps some have found a way to survive on their own, while some have already given up and went to live begging for alms on the streets. I can't picture myself in the same situation as I have a few relatives here who could readily assist me. During the whole commute to work, I kept my mind occupied on picturing myself in a similar situation. I came to a resolution that I should at least do something about it and make a campaign to help those people in need assistance to go home to their hometowns. For now I don't have the capabilities nor the time to devote myself in such a commitment, but I have since sworn to myself it will be one of my goals to learn and find ways to be able to help them in little ways. I'm starting it with this blog entry and I hope to write to foundations, television stations, politicians, and hopefully I also get to publish an article about this on a major newspaper.

Dead Tired

My wife is one of those people who couldn't exist a few minutes without doing anything. She has to have something to do or else she'd feel worried of not being useful enough. My mother is very much the same. I am not sure if it is hyper-activity or something that needs some kind of a professional attention. It is sometimes tiring just to see her go about as if everything are on same-day deadline. I just let her be, though, as it seems that it is the only way she can get fulfilled with day to day living- just like my mother then. At the end of each day, it is my pleasure to give her a gentle massage just as we are about to sleep, and tell her how lucky I feel to have her and her love.

PROOFS THAT FILIPINOS ARE GETTING MORE STUPID Part I

A few days ago, me and my wife are in Quiapo to buy pirated DVDs for our planned DVD marathon, since it was my restday. We normally just go for pirated DVDs and buy original compies if we end up liking the movie. It is a different story though with CDs, as I would prefer to buy original copies or download legally from the internet. We thought it was a novelty when we saw a stall selling full albums in micro-CDs only. So, we entered the stall and looked for artist that may be of interest. As it ususally goes, a saleslady approached to offer us assistance. "Ano'ng hanap nyo, sir? (What are you looking for, sir?)" I answered I'm interested in some electronic dance music like house or trance. The lady replied, "Meron kami dito, sir, Bob Marley (We have Bob Marley over here, sir)." Me and my wife chuckled, as we perfectly know that aside from the Club Remix of Sun Is Shining, Bob Marley has got nothing to do with dance music. I retorted to the lady exactly that information and further informed her that Bob Marley's music is called reggae, not electronic music. I also added that I wouldn't be much interested into Bob Marley as I already have most of his songs and that he has long been dead. Aghast, the saleslady said in Filipino- "What? Bob Marley is dead? Since when? Oh God, he is really a good singer!" We hurriedly left the stall. The lady even has dread locks and rasta-style shirt and hat on.

2- We live inside University of the Philippines campus (our landlady is a distant relative who is a university employee), so usually on my way home I get to ride jeepneys full of university students. The University of the Philippines is considered the county's premier higher education institution where the brightest of minds come to learn. One afternoon, I happen to be on a jeepney when a group of Korean tourists boarded accompanied by two university students. They must be giving the foreigners a tour, with the students, looking all smart and nerdy, giving them infos about the various places in the campus. Apparently, the ride was sort of a quick preview as they still will be given a tour of the campus on foot. When the jeepney stopped near the famous sunken garden to unload some passengers. One of the students took the opportunity to inform the tourists about it, and in full American accent said proudly-- "That is the UP Sunken Garden, it oftentimes is the venue for concerts or fairs held by the university. One quick fact about it-- it is called the Sunken Garden because it has been sinking for an average of a foot each year." I nearly fell off my seat upon hearing it. I mean, it could be sinking by the meters but certainly it wouldn't be called sunken garden because of that fact. Sunken gardens of course are an economical provision for a sort of open-air stadium and has been used from way back in history. We have a sunken garden in our university back in our province in Bicol and I know of at least ten more with their own sunken gardens, and then there are the famous sunken gardens like that in San Antonio in Texas, the one in UWA in Australia, there is one in the Olympic Green in Beijing, there are a few in New york, and many more. If they have been called sunken gardens because they are sinking, as the UP student claims, this should have been a phenomena worth of investigation by geologists. Apparently, the student from the premier university is dumb enough not to know this. I also have lived inside the campus for more than ten years and there is no indication it has sunk at least five feet.

3- Like most here in Metro Manila, I use the public transportation system to and from work, and it is air conditioned buses I mostly prefer. Due to the nature of my job, my schedules sometimes leave me with very little sleep and I use the opportunity to take a nap on the bus ride home. I do need to feel comfortable, that's the reason I choose to ride airconditioned buses, but usually I turn off the vent as it makes me hard to get some sleep. And then there are some stupid Filipinos who couldn't figure out how to turn off the vent and just direct it somewhere else, and worse they could direct it right in somebody's head. It happens every day and not just once but at leat three to four in every bus I get to ride everyday. I mean how simple could it be to figure that the know in the center of the vent is a way to regulate the flow of cold air on the vent. They were able to figure out how to redirect the vent, didn't they? Could it be that they really know how to turn it of and simply opted to just direct the vent to others? That's really idiotic. Don't they respect other people? Even to ask somebody if they want your aircon vent directed to them is idiotic, what more if you direct it to them without their permission? It's not rude, it's stupid. Any normal human being would know that you don't do to others what you don't want other do unto you. That's a basic ethical knowledge called the golden rule and regardless of race or religion every human being should know it. Are Filipinos really that stupid to not know about this?

That's it for the moment. I still have a few more proofs and am gathering more and I will be sure to post them here. If you are a Filipino, get a life or better yet some education! If you are from another country or another race, get as far away as you can from a Filipino or from the Philippines.

ACTIVISM IN THE PHILIPPINES

Okay, so we did succeed with a peaceful revolution-- or people power. Twice. And we are not content with it we still want to try and overthrow each and every administration with every single move they do? I think that's going over our heads. Filipinos have become so addicted on taking to streets whatever issue they can hurl at the government, disregarding the fact that everytime they do so will have adverse effect not only the image but the economy of the country as well. Thus, further making our lives in this country miserable.

ON WHY I HATE ROCK MUSIC

On my bus ride to work today I was seated opposite to this two friends who obviously are rockers, judging from their clothes, and sure enough they are talking about their music preference. You can blame me for being prejudiced, but from the way they talk and the words they use, even a kid can tell they both have nothing to speak of intellectually. They could well be typified like your neighborhood "taho" vendor. Well, I have seen the worst- like rugby boys in Cubao or Divisoria nodding to rock music, and "kargadors" as well.

It used to be that these kinds of people only listen to the likes of boybands or Filipino HipHop (looking the way of Salbakuta), even those old songs rolled into a medley with just one or two persons singing all throughout. And rock is reserved to those with enough intellect to understand what the bands are singing, at least literally. I admit I have been into rock music for the longest time. You can mention rock bands from way back AC/DC and Iron Maiden era to those of the recent years such as Incubus and Staind, and most likely I have got an album by them either on tape or CD. I grew up listening to rock music.

Somewhere along the way, around the time of Incubus and Limp Bizkit- the early 2000s, I just realized that I am sharing the same preference with most everyone else. I heard the errand boys at the grocery store near our home in Bicol listening to Linkin Park and System of a Down. I'm not being egocentric or something, but I do prefer things that are different from what everybody else has. Somebody suggested that this has been fueled by the proliferation of piracy, which opened the whole she-bang of options for music to those who previously are limited to, well, Salbakuta. So, damn the pirates. I do love downloading through the internet, though.

Along with rock, my other biggest music passion is electronic music. At around that very same time my love for rock is waning, I also am beginning to explore remixing and music production through computers. Well, to tell you the truth, I do dig most kinds of music from classical to pop standards to jazz-- the most extreme probably of which is my fascination for violins and bagpipes traditional music of the Irish and Scotts. Around the same time also, the opportunity to be a resident DJ for a local disco (club for us, westernized) opened up for me to explore further into electronic music by way of house music, and also into urban music. And me and my wife lived happily ever after.

Note: Thanks to http://www.shutterstock.com/ for the image

HUNGER

Last night we were watching a special on TV about the rising cost of the Philippine's staple food-- rice, and its effects to the poor in both the countryside and the major cities. The documentary was very effective in conveying the message to the world about how it has been a blow to most of our populace. We could not possibly remain apathetic anymore, there is no way we still can deny the fact that the country is in crisis. I have my own story to tell about this that have convinced me this is very serious matter.

A few days ago, I chose to ride non-airconditioned bus on my way home, which I thought I have never done so for sometime already; and I happened to be seated with a middle-aged man who apparently was coming home from work like me. I did not mind him at first, and I even was annoyed by how he smelled of sun-dried sweat. Shortly after paying for my fare, I fell asleep and slumped on the seat for sometime. I had my headset on and I was listening to my house music playlist on my phone.

The next time I opened my eyes I was a little less than an hour into the usual one and a half hour trip. The old man beside me was resting his forehead on the backrest of the seat in front of us. I stopped the music player on my phone and took off the headset. From the noise of the bus and those of the passengers, I can barely hear sobs in between heavy breaths. Looking out to see who it was, I found that it was the man beside me who was crying. I figured it will be nosy of me to ask him what is wrong, so I just put back on my headsets again and continued listening to music. This time though I just lowered the volume.

I felt quite uncomfortable having somebody beside me crying for reasons I don't know about. I am beginning to be more annoyed of the man as he could have kept whatever he is troubled of to himself until at least he gets home. But, no, here he is spilling his eyes out to the bewilderment of us around him. A lady who is seated with us in the row, pulled her guts to ask the old man what the problem was. The old man wiped his tears and said it is okay and not to worry. He then apologized saying he just couldn't help himself. He was holding a picture of a family-- with him as the father, his wife and three children.

I volunteered to the man that I may be able to extend to him whatever I can to help appease his emotions. He simply refused and said it is about his family and that he should deal with the problem himself. With a little more prodding, we finally got him to open up to us. Let us call him Larry; and he works in a construction site on a building within my office's block. He said that both he and his wife are working almost round the clock just to make ends meet. With the rapidly rising costs of living, he was fearful in time they will not be earning enough to have their children live comfortably. Larry also disclosed that without his wife's knowledge, he stopped having lunch at work for more than a month already just to save the money for their children.

It rained praises and sympathy on him, with some passengers offering a lunch treat for him. I myself was deeply moved by what I just learned. At home, we often have to throw out food that have long been in the fridge and at work I often just run to the nearest fastfood outlet on my lunch breaks, oblivious of people like Larry's family who are on the brink of having nothing to feed themselves with. Add to the fact that this man and his wife both have a job, how much more troubling can it be for those who are just living off the street? It seemed to me it will just be a matter of time, if this crisis escalates further, that we ourselves who are earning enough to some extent and for the time being will be affected.

I parted ways with Larry on my stop, and despite numerous refusal of taking a few bills I'm handing him out, I managed to slip some into his hands. Those, I said to him, are for his children. The next few hours, even as we are preparing for sleep, I couldn't help but be bothered. We were fortunate enough to still have food anytime we need some, and even throw out those we were not able to consume. And then there are those who barely even have a meal a day.

In the morning, as I prepare to go to work, my mind is firm on what I need to do. It may not put food in the mouths of those who need it most-- but at least this may help alleviate the crisis a bit. I will be advising everyone in the house and at work to just buy the food they can consume. That way, those that are later on just thrown out can instead be hopefully appropriated to those who need it most. On my part also, I will be skipping lunch from now on each working day in hope that this little way will help lessen the pressure on rice demand. Besides, even though I am still several pounds away from going over my recommended weight, I think I need to shed off some pounds.