There is this impulse to write my own memories of ADu back in 1995, the year I graduated, also my term as the President of the AUSG. Call it personal misgivings, or regrets or whatever. For me they are mere glimpses of the past I loved, treasured, and hoped was better, both for myself and the students.
It was August already and almost time for the AUSG elections. But there were no activity from the known political parties. SAMAKA disbanded nationally and the leftist KAMAO was in shatters. Only the ambitious and mediocre ARMS party led by a forgotten student leader was pushing for an election. Even without a presidential candidate this party was pushing for a mock election so that they could occupy the post unchallenged.
A KAMAO leader together with a former Chronicle EIC, and his limited number of supporters, decided to boycott the elections. One week before the “meeting de avance” with no other option but to see the AUSG occuppied by puppeteers, or see the leftist wing launch a renewed militant stand against the Admin, a former SAMAKA officer approached this MASP instructor and posed this proposition. That we shall create another party out of the ruins of SAMAKA and challenge ARMS in the mock election they were hoping to win. One week. Two months headstart for the competition. A lot of work.
That night we managed to organize the leadership of the College of Architecture. In two days the COMPSCi group was behind us. Soon the entire line up for the CSG offices was filled out and we were headed for the public debate. Who are we to be? What shall we call ourselves? Then it was decided: SIKLAB! (It was a long time ago, I have forgotten what this stands for.)
A long line that stretched out from the Cardinal building’s gate to the narrow opening of the main campus’ grounds was formed by the group supporting this new party. Some came because it was cool to be in. Some for more political reasons. Others because they believed. With one voice shouting “Si-siklab” it meant trouble for the opposition, caught off guard in their own dirty game. They did not know there were students who care about the electoral process, and that these same nameless faces would take down to the streets to defend that right.
And so the debate started. Me against a candidate reportedly in an emergency room. A no-show. A spokesperson, the ambitious and forgotten quasi student leader cum political puppet stood in the middle to deliver their party’s platform. I don’t remember anything he said. And then it was my turn.
I told about five thousand of the students watching and listening what I came there for. Not to get elected. Not to solicit the votes. I simply reminded them what the process means and what the opposition is doing. It was all about choosing something you think deserves the position, or not at all. Not about “choosing” just about anyone since there was no other choice.
The leftist group was huddled beside the circular snack bar, waiting for the right time to unfold their flags to affront the public debate. Only that there was no debate. And then they realized they have a better chance of saving the AUSG from the stupidity that was ARMS, if they give the man with a microphone a chance.
And they did give me a chance. An overwhelming landslide. The party that sought to benefit from the tricky game they played got played in turn. SIKLAB was a blast.
The next question is, “What do I do now?” Six months more and I will graduate. What would be my goals?
I had my very first surgery last Sunday, courtesy of an inflammed appendix. It started like a bloated feeling on my stomach, much more like you want to pass gas but can’t. I thought that was all there was to it, so mustering all that my manlihood can stand I held on for 12 hours, hoping that the pain will subside once I fart it out. Never in my life have I wished that hard so I can pass gas but none came.
By the early hours of Sunday morning I was in terrible pain. With my wife and the kids still asleep, I managed to get to the car and drive 1 mile to the emergency room at Kaiser. Walked in through the empty waiting room. It was a perfect time. 5am of Sunday morning and no one to compete with for medical attention. In five minutes I was checked by the admissions, interviewed by the triage nurse and was on my way to the bed. An IV line was inserted and an attending resident came about an hour after.
I felt the sensation of the pain medication they gave intravenously. Almost instantly the pain was gone and I was feeling comfortable. They still have to determine the cause of it though and was told to wait two hours for the CAT scan to be performed. They let me drink two cupsful of something that tasted like lemonade. I wanted to sleep since I was tired and groggy. I texted my wife to tell her that I am scheduled for a CAT scan within two hours. Oh yeah, and that I was in the emergency room having driven by myself without their knowledge, so that I do not die in pain. It was something like that.
Minutes after she was calling me back. Since the signal was terrible I just asked her to text whatever message she has. I wanted to sleep and it would rob me sometime if I go on explaining what was happening to me. Not that I know what was happening already. It’s futile as far as I can see. If I have bothered them with the pain, would they be of any help? Or would the serious and overly concern that I am bound to receive just be a cause of further agitation I would not want. Face your battles, minimize casualties and stand like a man. That’s why I did not want to inform them.
The two hours waiting for the CAT scan was Godsent. I was able to sleep well and get my thoughts straightened out. I texted my boss of what was happening to me. He has to find me a replacement for work. He wished me well. Somehow I was uncertain of what might become of me but I was not terrified since I knew that I am in the hospital and receiving proper attention. A staff nurse came by explaining to me what is supposed to happen. She asked a whole history of my medical condition. No. I am not allergic. No. I have never been like that. First time. Yes. Wait let me think. No. I guess.. Just how many people pay attention to their medical history when they are healthy is beyond me. I mean, I do not know who in my family got this and that. Only now that I am being asked do I ask myself back. Did mom have diabetes? Do we have a history of allergy to medications? Well, I got through the quiz and was being asked now if I have an Advanced Medical Directive. (Well if you do not know what that is, go to www.ownlegacy.com/mydirective.php ). I said yes, well, of course. I am the founder of a fabulous website that is the only one to feature such thing. The nurse just looked at me and asked me to sign the papers in her hand. And oh, she added that they usually ask for the patient to shell out the co-payment before surgery and that was two hundred dollars, but she could wait till after, just for me. Oh geeze, lesson learned, do not forget your wallet stuffed with cash, when you go to the emergency room. I just said “bill me later”. I guess that would guarantee a better service huh? They have to make sure I come out of this alive.
Okay so we went through the scan. The iodine solution used to detect any blockage in my anatomy shot through my veins up to the tip of my tongue like warm milk. I was laying flat on my side as the machine moved forward and backward, arching over my whole body. A male voice which sounded like an elevator operator said “breathe” and “hold your breath”, as I moved forward and backward through the machine. It was over in five minutes and was wheeled back to my station.
The CAT scan results showed that my gall bladder was ok but my appendix was inflammed. I need surgery right away. I asked if I could get something non-invasive. The doctor said no and that it is a simple surgery and would be over in less than an hour. I could go home within the day. Well, I wanted to go home..but what are the other options? Just ignore it and wait till it ruptures and kills you. Ok well said, let’s do the operation now then, doc. They let me wait four hours for it. A surgeon checked on me. A young Chinese looking 30-ish something. Female. Took a look at my spread eagled legs and checked ME out. Normal procedure mind you. They have seen thousands they do not know the difference. She pointed where they are going to insert a camera to do the laparoscopy. A semi invasive surgery that would take out my appendix without cutting me. Less time spent on the hospital, less pain and faster recovery. She was saying straight out that I would be ok and that this is simple and that I would be able to go home. What am I supposed to decide on anyway? They had me on “Let it rupture and kill you.” So the nice doctor left to get her team ready for my first operation.
A team of five. Introduced themselves one by one. Made me feel at ease. Nice knowing their names since the would operate on me anyway. They took turns looking at ME. No judgements there, I suppose. Normal procedure. The have seen thousands like this they don’t know the difference. Somebody said “shave”…a little poking..did i hear someone say “this looks huge”?..oh I was just dreaming. I passed out completely.
A tug on my shoulder woke me up. I am alive. It has been two hours since the operation and all they want me to do now is pee and go home. Wow that simple. I tried to focus on where I was. The recovery room. I was alone with two staff nurses I have not seen previously. The male nurse gave me a plastic bottle. Relax and try to pee. Ok that would be easy. I stood up. Held the bottle and waited. Nothing came out. One more time. Nothing happened. Did they screw this up? Might have nipped the wrong thing and cut off my penis. Is there a hole there still where my pee can come out? I was now writhing in pain, much more painful than I previously felt. My bladder was bursting and putting pressure on my newly operated insides. Stop this please! I swear I won’t hold off peeing anymore, just let this pass. They must have given something to sedate me for the terrible pain eased a little and I passed out again.
The tingle was still there when I woke up. It felt like there were salt crystals blocking the base of my manlihood and it is rendering him useless. To say that it is useless is an understatement. But it more than actually is. The nurse said that it is normal. Yeah I heard that before. The effects of the narcotics is slowing or impeding my urinary functions. I have to drink a lot of water and let it pass out. But through where? They waited an hour more to see if I could pee by myself. No success. No choice either, but to insert a catheter and let it go through a urine bag. That’s the only way to get the pressure out. So they had me on my back again, spread eagled, again, and poking again. A shot of pain ripped through my “other” head as the tube went in and pee passed out. 400 ccs of waste went out my system and instantly relieved my bladder.
And then they made a mistake. They took out the catheter expecting everything to be normal after sending me home. Or were they just cutting cost? I wonder.
After six hours post-operative care at home, I was shaking once more because I could not void. (void is a medical term for peeing). I asked my wife to bring me back to the emergency room after consulting with a stand by nurse on the phone. The trip to the emergency room was an excruciating experience. Every little bump on the road leads to an indescribable pressure up my groin and would make me shake all over. By the time I got through admissions and triage, the nurses know exactly what was wrong. My blood pressure was 165 over 100 and I was convulsing. A little interview about what I have gone through the past 24 hours gave them the idea that they have to stick in the catheter again to decompress the bladder. After probing and checking for other wounds that might have been the source of the pain, they had me on foley. I am able to breathe once more. God. People do not have the slightest idea how lucky they are to be able to pee normally. With a newfound sense of appreciation for my thingy, I comfortably got out of the emergency room without a wheelchair and headed straight home, a urine bag strapped to my legs from where a tube leads all the way to my penis. Poetic. The feeling of being able to breathe normally, much more appreciated. Every gasp of air counts. No pressure on the bladder. Don’t care about the bag strapped to my right leg. I am normal as far I know.
My kids asked me a lot of questions when I got home. It was Monday morning and my wife had to juggle between what the kids and I need. When they got through showers and dressing up and breakfast and packed lunches, finally she was able to focus on me. I could tell how this was affecting her. She managed to do what needs to be done. A little after we talked about why I did not tell her I was going to the E.R. and why I did not wake her up when I was in pain. Same rationale. Fight your battles. Minimize the conflict and stand like a man. She won’t get it. Just dropped the subject off after promising not to do it again. When the kids came back from school they were sympathetic. My eldest was asking if I had a good day resting. My youngest stepped on my bag and sent shivers up my tubehead. I could use some more rest.
I wish the story ends here. I have been going back and forth emptying the bag since I first started to write. But there is one final chapter in this chronicle of an appendectomy.
I was scheduled for a urology visit come Tuesday at 1130am. Time to say goodbye to my beloved catheter. The nurse had me void 400 ccs of the 300 she put in me just to see if I could go on without any tube. It was a success. Finally, I am free. No bags, tubes or pressure. Went home and celebrated with a meal and a steady stream of iced tea lemonade. Went to bed. Turned on the DVR. Relaxed at last. Then it started again. A little sting at the base of my penis. Rushed to the bathroom. Come on. I did this once. Pee.. For heaven’s sake…
A little after 4pm Tueday, an ambulance parked two houses away. Two paramedics came out. I was stuck in the toilet seat. Could not move. Shaking, perspiring. I do not know how close I may have come to meeting death but I swear I nearly met mine. My wife would say, “Ow, don’t be overly dramatic, you just can’t pee!”, but I swear I would have prefered something else.
They hauled me out in a wheelchair. A flight of chairs, and a hundred steps from the front door of my house to where they parked, each movement just killing me. Never mind my neighbors staring out of their windows. But quite a lot turned out. I was wearing only my boxers, a shirt and socks. A healthy thirty year old cussing and swearing as the paramedics slipped me into the ambulance. A sight they would not forget.
Normal procedure. The have done this many times. For me, what turned out to be the first was to become the third trip to the emergency room. What an experience. Something every man should never have to. But might. Somehow.
I have tuned out about 2000 ml of fluid since starting this blog. Before they take this catheter out again it would be two weeks. I wonder how many more blogs I could write between now and then.
If you want to comfort me just write me a note. I have nothing to do for a week.
These are some excerpts from Jose Rizal’s letter to his sister Trining during the former’s stay in Heidelberg:
“The German woman is serious, studious, and diligent, and as their clothes do not have plenty of color, and generally they have only three or four, they do not pay much attention to their clothes nor to jewels.´´
“They go everywhere walking so nimbly or faster than men, carrying their books, their baskets, without minding anyone and only their own business. ´´
“…because German women are active and somewhat masculine. They are not afraid of men. They are more concerned with the substance than with appearances. ´´
Let me say that I truly admire a woman who is capable of independence. I might write again my observations in this European country I am in, but let us not tackle about that.. I want to write about women. Women who are called Bitches when they express themselves, when they compete with men, and when they beat men.
I do not think that it is about subduing men or competing with men. I think that it is about self sustenance and liberation to be able to learn, to practice one’s craft, to simply map her own purpose. This might sound like from the Women’s Lib, a reality which we thought already happening. If that is the case, then stop calling me a Bitch.
I might point out the women in my Heimat (fatherland). And the women here where I am staying. It is still customary that a Filipina stays at home, attends to the kids and waits for her husband’s salary, and in between, she will watch noontime shows and telenovelas as her endowed entertainment. Thanks to the so called Women’s Rights, women attend schools and even universities, even being able to pursue Engineering, Law or Medicine. Yet, in between, she will succumb to a man, put on expensive make up and clothes, watch t.v., wait for the man, and daydream. Because, in such education, women are isolated to learn only the theories and praxis of the discipline they choose. Outside the degree and the career, they still need to have those multiple facial creams and they need to stay at home, because she is a wife and a worker (careerwoman). She will still have that fragile emotions and she will still be conscious at what others may say, she will still be conforming and will not have her own disposition over matters.
Where I am staying right now, to which, I might also suggest (but not necessarily impose) to the women in my Heimat, women are considered strong. Rizal has the accurate definition of them which is valid up to now. Women don’t waste time, they, in fact make the most of their time. Women read, a common household bookshelf here is filled with books, no matter if she is the Mechanical Engineer of a metal company or the cashier of a bakery, she collects books of her own interest be it about geography or Ernest Hemingway or marine life. Women indulge themselves into sports, some women even drive to cliffs to cycle, or even climb mountains. During their free time, they study new sports, at 40, they attend arnis lessons or rowing lessons. Women go to museums, opera and cultural festivals, mostly affordable and not expensive during festivals as they are being upholded by the government as well. Women express themselves, they have their opinions and not afraid to be heard out. Women think, they use logic and techniques for convenience, even from cooking, to driving, to mostly anything. They don’ linger long moments in front of the mirror because they want to be punctual. They don’t say, “Pwede na ito´´, they execute things to the best way they can and they expect efficiency also.
Being a woman is not about being a bitch to men, but being a bitch because a woman satisfies herself. And that satisfaction comes from the things we try to discover as humans here on earth who appreciate beauty and art, who use rationality bestowed upon us, who develop ideas and skills for the betterment of our own selves and who have goals to be fulfilled.
Si Steve Armstrong nga daw ang makasaysayang bayani na nagpapagalaw sa ultraelectromagnetic na robot na si Voltes Five, at ang kanyang ama, na si Ned Armstrong, ang mesiya ng syang tunay na tagapagligtas ng sangkatauhan mula sa mananakop na Bozanians.
Pero teka, sandali, sa buong palabas, nasabi ba sa kwento kung bakit gustong sakupin ng Bozanians ang Earth?
E kung tutuusin, mas maganda pa kung Martians na lang ang sasakupin nila. Atleast highly advanced, hindi ba?
Ibig sabihin, meron talagang weakest part ang tao kaya earth ang naisipang sakupin ng Bozanians. Paano kaya kung hindi pumunta si Dr. Armstrong sa mundo at sa Pluto/ Mercury/ Mars sya napunta? Magkakaroon kaya ng Voltes Five? Gwapito pa rin kaya ang pilot ng Cruiser One o mukhang Martian (ala Mars Attack).
Highly educational naman ang Voltes Five, hindi sya isang Japanese kitsch. Halatang pinag-isipan ang buong istorya. Akalain mong Gumawa ang creator nito ng gwapo at rational na antagonist (si Prince Zardoz) na fully developed ang character at hindi lang malakas at demonic ang tawa. Ang bonus pa dun, may ka-loveteam pa sya (ako yun). At mantakin mo, talagang Physics at scientific knowledge ang basis ng lahat ng mga weaponry, pareho ni Voltes Five at ng kanyang kalaban na Beast Fighters ng Bozania. Akalain mong may radiation pala ang dalawang rings na pumapalibot sa Planetang Bozania at hindi ito mapapasok ng kahit anong klase ng ultraelectromagnetic robot dahil malakas ang force fields nito. At kung hindi marunong magteleport ang spaceship mo, hindi ka makakapasok sa planetang ito. Highly advanced, mas advanced pa sa butt scanner ng Adamson University.
Ang malupit pa dito, ginamit ng creator ng Voltes Five ang mga ideas ni Albert Einstein. Akalain mo, ginamit nya ang fifth dimension at ang time warp para maging makataotohanan ang paglalakbay ng Camp Big Falcon papuntang Bozania at kung paano nakarating ang mga taga-Bozania sa planeta natin (14 light years ang layo ng dalawang planeta, parehong magkaiba ng galaxies).
Marahil, isang fanatic kay Einstein ang hapon na gumawa nito. Pati kasi ang Theory of relativity ni Einstein ginamit nya para ieksplika ang force fields ng Camp Big Falcon.
Ang ultimate na kagandahan ng Voltes Five, ay universal ang idea nito. Mapa-hapon man ang Gumawa, o german ang mga ideas na ginamit dito, iisa lang ang gusto nitong iparating:
The sun is setting on the horizon. The lovely scenery attracts the warmth of the clouds from above, as if they want to see the scene themselves. Two anonymous persons lay idly in a big bed, their clothes on, and innocence flutters in their eyes. The room was spacious, but the door is narrow. There is a wide window on the northern side of the room, where they could see the beautiful sunset. There is a picture hanging on the wall, a kind of hazy, old photograph of another room. It is illuminated by two lamps on its side. The girl is looking on the photograph. The boy was staring at the girl. Out comes two puffs of cigarette from the girls lips.
“Sometimes I get afraid when I see that it’s coming,” she said.
“See what?”
“See that I am becoming sarcastic towards you,”
“You naughty girl.”
“Why, don’t you want to?”
“It depends. On how sarcastic you can be. If I can tolerate it, why not”
“I don’t want to”
“Why?”
“It just means that you are becoming a part of my consciousness.”
I just received this essay that’s supposedly written by a Korean. And it’s sniper-accurate. I didn’t edit this, so just forgive the minor mistakes.
***
MY SHORT ESSAY ABOUT THE PHILIPPINES
Jaeyoun Kim
Filipinos always complain about the corruption in the Philippines. Do you really think the corruption is the problem of the Philippines? I do not think so. I strongly believe that the problem is the lack of love for the Philippines.
Let me first talk about my country, Korea. It might help you understand my point. After the Korean War, South Korea was one of the poorest countries in the world. Koreans had to start from scratch because entire country was destroyed after the Korean War, and we had no natural resources.
Koreans used to talk about the Philippines, for Filipinos were very rich in Asia. We envy Filipinos. Koreans really wanted to be well off like Filipinos. Many Koreans died of famine. My father & brother also died because of famine. Korean government was very corrupt and is still very corrupt beyond your imagination, but Korea was able to develop dramatically because Koreans really did their best for the common good with their heart
burning with patriotism. Koreans did not work just for themselves but also
for their neighborhood and country. Education inspired young men with the spirit of patriotism.
40 years ago, President Park took over the government to reform Korea. He tried to borrow money from other countries, but it was not possible to get a loan and attract a foreign investment because the economic situation of South Korea was so bad. Korea had only three factories. So, President Park sent many mine workers and nurses to Germany so that they could send money to Korea to build a factory. They had to go through horrible experience.
This statistics is a result of the study conducted by the Professional Regulations Commission (PRC) and the Commission on Higher Education (CHED), based on the average passing in the BOARD EXAMINATIONS OF ALL COURSES of all universities and colleges in the Philippines. This study is concluded every 10 years.
Eleven schools come from Luzon, two from the Visayas and seven from Mindanao:
1. University of the Philippines (Diliman Campus/Luzon)
2. University of the Philippines (Los Banos Campus/Luzon)
3. University of the Philippines (Manila Campus/Luzon)
4. Silliman University (Dumaguete City/Visayas)
5. Ateneo de Davao University (Davao/Mindanao)
6. Ateneo de Manila University (Manila/Luzon)
7. University of Santo Tomas (Manila/Luzon)
8. Mindanao State University (Iligan Institute of Technology/Mindanao)
9. Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Maynila (Manila/Luzon)
10. Saint Louis University (Baguio City/Luzon)
11. University of San Carlos (Cebu City/Visayas)
12. Xavier University (Cagayan de Oro/Mindanao)
13. Mindanao State University (Main/Mindanao)
14. Urios College (Butuan City/Mindanao)
15. Polytechnic University of the Philippines (Manila/Luzon)
16. De La Salle University (Manila/Luzon)
17. Mapua Institute of Technology (Manila/Luzon)
18. Adamson University (Manila/Luzon)
19. Central Mindanao University (Bukidnon/Mindanao)
20. University of Southern Philippines (Davao/Mindanao)
* I’m not sure if this one is real but still knowing AdU is there I’m proud!
Akala ko si Gloria ang nagsasalita at hindi si Hillary Clinton. Pakiramdam ko nagpakulay siya nang buhok at nagpa-bleach nang kaunti para pumuti and medyo nagdagdag nang height. Kidding aside, maaari siyang maging unang babaeng presidente nang US pero di natin maikakaila may mga ilang puntos na nakadikit sa pangalan nya na di rin natin maikakaila na nangyayari dito sa bansa.
Una, ang kanyang asawang naging sentro nang usap usapan na noong nakaupo pa ito sa posisyon na nakaakibat ang isyu nang morality, at ang issue na totoo ba silang naghiwalay after nilang magkalaboan, same question sa mga unang taon ni Gloria sa posisyon totoo bang hiwalay na sila si Mike Arroyo? Pagkatabos sumambulat ang issue na ito madali ring naglaho kagaya nang kung paano nagkibit balikat na rin ang mga tao sa US sa issue ni Bill Clinton sa pleasure business niya with Monica Lewinsky who became an instant star sa US. But opposite kay FG, the giant behind the powerful woman in the country who tries to hide in his wife’s skirt, hindi natin maiiwasan ang katanungang nasaan na si Pidal, at bakit sa bisperas nang ZTEBroadband Investigation ay para siyang langaw na mabilis umiwas sa pagbugaw nang senado papuntang Hongkong.
Pangalawa, sa issue ang opinsiba sa terosismo, kung Iraq ang issue sa US na kung saan isa si Hillary sa pagbibigay nang kapangyarihan kay George Bush Jr. sa opinsiba nang US laban sa Iraq at ngayong tatakbo siya bilang presidente and isa sa mga plataporma niya ay harapin ang iba pang suliranin nang bansa nila maliban sa gulo sa Iraq, tila isang malaking katanungan, inaatras ba niya para sa kapakanan nang bayan niya o nang sarili niyang kapakanan para makuha niya ang suporta nang makakaliwa . Di yan malalayo sa gulong nagaganap sa Pilipinas, ilang beses at ilan taon na rin ang gulo sa Mindanao bakit hanggang ngayon hindi pa ito matapos tapos, di naman sagot ang Human Security Act na ilang buwan na ang nakakaraan na siyang nilagdaan ni Gloria, instead mas naging delikado ito sa mga taong magiging biktima nang mga tiwaling nasa pamahalaan sa panahong naiipit sila, kaakibat na rin ito sa isyu nang mga di pag sipot nang mga miyembro nang kabinete sa mga hearing, sa anong kadahilanan, dahil utos nang pangulo. Pero hindi pera nila ang siyang iimbistegahan sa mga hearing na ito kundi ang mga perang nagmumula sa buwis nang mga mamamayan na tahasang ibinubulsa at kinikick back patungo sa makakapal nilang wallet, kahit paano natapos na rin ang anim na taong moro moro sa plunder case ni Erap pero tila napakadali na rin ang pagpanukala nang pardon, dahil ba nangangamoy na rin ang 2010 at naghahanda na ang mga iilan kung paano mag amoy mabango sa paningin nang mga masa. Sa wari ko hindi reconcillation ang dapat na tawag sa mga gawaing ito kundi reconstruction nang kanilang plano, plataporma at propaganda, sana mga lang sa kapakanan nang nakakarami ito at di lang nang mga iilang makikinabang sa kaban nang bayan.
At huli, isang katanungang magagampanan ba nang isang babae ang isang posisyong titingalain nang lahat nang bansa, ang pinakamakapangyarihang pusisyon sa buong mundo at iyon ang maging presidente ang Estados Unidos. Hanggang ngayon may mga taong di pa rin tanggap ang pamamahala nang mga babae sa mga mga sangay sa lipunan dahil ang iilang ito na ang tingin nila sa babae ay emosyonal at mahina. Pero ang sa akin lang ang babae ay may pusong inang ituturing ang kanyang pamahalaan bilang isang anak na dapat alagaan at payabungin hanggang umunlad, ngunit ang ang sa akin lang din ay sa kabila nang kanyang malambot na puso at maemosyong pamamahala, may katigasan ba ang kanyang ulo at paninindigan upang itaguyod ang prinsipyo at pangangalagaan ang nangangailangang bayan at di papayag na masakupan basta basta nang mga taong uhaw sa kapangyarihan na magkukubli sa katausan nang isang asawa.
Ang sa wari ko lamang maging bukas ang mga pananaw natin sa mga nangyayari sa ating paligid bukod sa kung ano ang ikinasasaya sa ating paningin at pandinig, kung anuman ang paniniwala at relihiyon natin. Kung sa US ay abala na sila sa 2008 sana maging handa tayo sa malayo pang tatahaking 2010, di po ako tatakbo o namumulitika, ako lamang ay nagpapaalala.
We woke up today at eight. Considering that I worked last night till 2am, it was not such a welcome treat. Reluctantly I got to the shower and prepared for church. At the back of my head I was wishing I would not go. But then again, this is the same thought every week, part of the struggles you have to win to spend time with Christ.
In the car we have to remind the kids how to behave, as we do every week. Church seems like an unwelcoming place for kids. Ironic since Christ said let the children come to me. We just dont want to disturb other churchgoers and so their behavior has to be kept in check. And with kids like mine, reminding them every time seems to be a requirement.The Gospel was about loving one another as Christ loved us. Listening to the 15 minute sermon was always a task. The priest can’t get hold of the message and drive the point to heart. The thing about love was very specific and yet very broad. It was clear and yet hard to understand. That was what I got from it. Every now and then I have to keep the boys from moving too much. Yes, I can’t wait for the service to be over.
Got through church fine..the youngest asking whether he behaved. He wants to know if he can get a reward. We have to bribe them to keep still and just wait for church to be over. They dont know what goes on yet inside the service. For most adults I guess its’ the same, the service is over before they could get their thoughts on to praying.
Went home quick and packed stuff for the beach. It is a 90 degree weekend and a perfect time to go out and tan. Not that we need it. We have to remind ourselves we are Asians. Tediously, we have to make sure everything is set. The two are arguing again. What to wear..what to bring. Was it as complicated as this when I was a kid? Every five seconds I or my wife, have to tell either one of the boys to do this and that…and not to do this and that. They were just pretty excited with the thought of going, we guess, that they can’t keep calm.
The waves were grand as the kids ran back and forth towards it and then away from it. It was icy cold and numbing to the feet. But the sun was scorching and our backs were itchy and dry. The two were having a blast. I have to stay ten feet away in case the current drags them to open sea. A splash ripped through the clear sand and reached the two knee-deep. They hollered.
Time to eat. Wifey finished the barbeque. It was another task just to feed them. We have to remind them how lucky they are that they are not starving. I am sure by now they know what Africa represents. Next time they would be smart enough to quip back and say, “We can’t bring these food to Africa.”
Played ball afterwards. Ran again to the beach to play. The two met a burly eight year old with his mother playing tag with the waves. It wasn’t long before my wife was conversing with the other parent and I was left to watch the kids. I have the same old role, so has she. About a minute ago they were strangers and then the next they were talking about the divorce that the newcomer is undergoing. Women..they just have to open up and pour it out. My wife is a good listener. But make no mistake…she is quite a talker herself.
Getting burned up in the heat real fast, we decided to quit the beach and go to the clubhouse where we previously lived. We still have the keys to the pool. With sand on their butts the two happily recalled getting “smashed” by the waves and was looking forward to swimming decently. We enrolled them to classes and paid heavily just so they can tire themselves in the water. They love it. Another hour, and I am beat. The day is almost halfway through and I have not had a single moment to myself. There are times, for a split second, when I would wish nobody would call me or depend on me. And then reality will hit me back and keep me grounded, the list of chores and things to do glaring me at the face.
But my wife is kind enough to let me sleep after we got home. I needed that. There is only one vice I have at the moment that I cannot over indulge enough, sleep. My source of balance. The thing that restores my sanity and keeps my emotions in place. After three hours, driven by the occasional nudge I got to ask me to play with the kids, I finally dragged myself. All that time I was out, they were playing the Gamecube. An effective babysitter, it does have its’ shortcomings as a precursor to arguments and ill feelings. But I guess the reason why we let them play computer games is so we, the parents, can have time to rest. Such horrendous motives, I know, yet justified believe me. The kids were quick to shut the TV off when I said I wanted to play Monopoly. All they really want was something to do. And so they counted their cash and bought properties and built houses. I got sent to jail two times. It meant missing turns for three rounds and that gave me a chance to make my coffee. I had my coffee thanks to jail time. I have to hold myself quiet as I was almost about to say that I enjoyed my jail break. You do not know what it might mean to the kids.
Finally, dinner. Settling down nice and quite now. We decided not to have the “tabled” family dinner and instead had the “one plate for all” type. With the TV on, each one take turns scooping rice and barbeque, shoveling it to their mouths. No more cooking either..we still have leftovers from today’s picnic.
The kids tuned out at 9pm. Without an afternoon nap, they were quick to leave for dreamland. But after all that play, it will be a dreamless sleep.
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stiban_graffiti : Sino ba yang ADMI na iyan? Kung estudyante ka, alam mo ba na mas masahol ka pa sa mga Makapili. or Kung admin ka man, nakakatawa ka. Nawalan tuloy ako ng ganang umebs.
admi : kasi kung sana nag complaint ka ng harapan hindi sa ganitong paraan para hindi na naman naghahasik ng magic at lagim si astorga. History is repeating again and again
eCe_spy : hahaha di naman admi hitting below the belt lang.. thats why..
admi : nagsusumbong ka ece_spy, hahaha
eCe_spy : Naming names? How come.. Tsktsk sir JB cud you please clean this mess..
Rastafariana : Anybody home?
schrondingeristhec : HUH?
admi : ece_spy is fcc
invaderzim : si captain america ba yun?
invaderzim : hahahahha...
admi : kaya si ece_spy hulugan muna
invaderzim : wow!nireveal na yung ibang superheroes!
admi : onlooker si Mr. joshua Tadena
admi : sigbin is Mr. Allan Camacho
admi : ece_boses is Mr. Ralph Corsiga
rowie0123 : ano ba itsura ng unoform ng it sa school natin ? 1st year ako sa pasukan .. ndi pa nabibigay uniform ko .. huhuh' di ko din alam kung anung itsura ng uniform na bibilhin ko ..
rnarcise : panu ba ma view ung blog... i'm just intrigued..kaso na blocked na ata ung post
macintyre13 : hello dyan
batongbuhay : panu b mgpost d2?
domeepogee : panu ba maglog-out dito? panu ba icancel yung registration ko?
KoKaK : nga pla,,,pag naiwan nu id nu kuha lng ako ng affidavit of loss kesa violation slip,,,gud 4 one day n un-disposable
KoKaK : jhopet kilala m c ece.boldstar?...mmmmmmm
KoKaK : anu bang password ang hinahanap pag view nun blog?...d ko n ma-access ei nakiki-internet lng aku
KoKaK : kaw ece k din man db?.....klala ko n c superklasse at c exe spy
KoKaK : uu bakit?
KoKaK : pooch! nabababoy n ang site...nagiging online n TIKTIK at BOMBA n ang mga nakapost. Mag journaism alang ka sila?...aahahahaha
jhopet : ece k ba kokak??
jhopet : panu mu nalaman kokak??
KoKaK : kilala n nila ang katauan ko...waahahahah
KoKaK : anu latest?
LAGOTka : please
LAGOTka : ece_spy
LAGOTka : ece stud aq.. and gs2 q mabasa un..
LAGOTka : please
LAGOTka : This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below. --> YOUR??? e bakit nung inenter q na ayaw pa din..
LAGOTka : eCe_spy.. please
LAGOTka : ung password penege naman
LAGOTka : bakit di ko maview ung THE PROFESSOR's MAGIC.. help please
handsome_gniw : penge naman ng password sa "the professors magic"
sygryd : to eCe_spy..ece din ako.naiintriga ako sa post mo(The professor's magic)..parang kilala ko yun..
invaderzim : ngayon hinahanapan sya ng guard ng identification or whatso ever(hahah,hello? nasunugan nga?)ayaw tlga xang papasukin ng guard.tae talga nalulungkot ako dhil sa ganun magisip yung,sobrang sumusunod xa sa rule na parang hndi na nya ginagamit ang isip nya.iniinsist paren nya yung identification or any credentials,at wla talgang maipkita ang kawawang studnt.haaayyy..kakalungkot
invaderzim : hahah oo,tlgang hndi mo rin maiwasan yung mga stupid moments with the guards. maikwento ko lang.once naiwan ko ang i.d ko.so wla akong choice kundi kumuha ng violation slip.tas may nakasabay akong stud. (nakacvilian,during uniform days) balak nyang magp-asa ng letter to excuse/inform the school bout sa gagwin nyang absences,dahil sa natupok ng apoy ang bahay nila(daw)so wla xang ibang dala kundi kapirasong papel
asia : you wudn't beieve me, nahihirapan aq pumasok sa gate dhil sa mga bwct na guard na yan. once i am inside the campus, ndi na aq pwd lumabas unless uuwi na aq. otherwise, habulan ulit kmi ng guard coz of my dress code... arte..
asia : hahaha... ganyan din ang feeling q nun. after my formal exit, and after years passed by... i found out that i am starting to miss adamson
asia : to: invaderzim
invaderzim : kamuzta ang adu?ayun.bawal ang cd players pero pwede ang mp3 players.bawal ang camera at video cam pero pwede ang mga mobilefone na may ganun.naka wi-fi na ang ST quad pero kelangn mo paring ikuha ng permit ang laptop mo.nakkabadtrip paren madalas ang mga guard.at higit sa lahat andum paren yung mga punggok na poste sa st gate na wala namng silbe.
