Avenida: The Manila COD Interludes

After J. Dalisay Jr.

---

I think I was eight or nine years old when my mother and I would scour the entire stretch of Avenida in search for a great bargain. Sometimes, we would go there to buy some groceries or just do window shopping, especially when times were difficult and budget was tight.

She would pick me up at around 7 in the evening coming from her day-long teaching job at a state university. We would take a short jeep ride from our house in Santa Mesa to the fringes of Recto, and then ride another jeepney going towards the direction of Carriedo.

I remember, she would always sit beside the driver (and sometimes even asking the man in front to surrender his seat and ride at the back) for she can't lift her feet up the steps at the rear entry of the passenger vehicle. She's disabled since birth and her feet were limited to cover just a few blocks when used for walking.

The jeep would drop us off at Uniwide Sales Club just below the LRT Carriedo Station, where mom would buy a few items to fill our small provisions cabinet: Laundry soaps, toiletries like Pepsodent toothpaste and Tender Care Bath soap, and several canned goods (which include Maggie Chicken Noodles, 555 Tomato Sardines and Hunt's Pork and Beans). After roaming the aisles for a few hours, off we head to the cashier section to pay our goods. Mother would sometimes pay in cash, but often, use her gift cheques acquired from salary swapping in school.

We would leave the supermarket just in time for the closing. Since there's no use competing with other bystanders waiting to get a ride home, mom would limp her way back to Recto, clutching her bag of groceries on her left hand, while holding mine on another. When time was free. Goodwill Bookstore served as our pit stop and resting grounds before trudging again the barely lit sidewalks of Avenida.

When inside the bookstore, mom would set her eyes on the stack of books marked as SALE. She would pick one, browse its contents while letting me check out the coloring booklets and animal-themed domino sets not far from where she stood. We were just there for the window shopping, however, when we find ourselves in front of the already closed bookstore, we move on and rest our feet at the nearby Manila COD Department Store instead.

Manila COD sat next to Madison Department Store. Both stores sold clothes, shoes and household items at discounted prices. I could not recall if these thrift shops had any distinction that would set them apart, but both stores had a profound impact which still make ripples when it comes to my buying habits.

One night, a few minutes before closing time, mom and I entered Manila COD. She immediately went to the household items area while I ran towards the toys section to check for new die-cast miniature cars on display. It was never my habit to hold my mom hostage when I like something so much, but when I found one die-cast toy car impossible to resist, I resolved to hold my ground until mom gives in.

And so I made it a point to get noticed - not by crying like some brats do - but by pressing my head against the glass window and ignoring her calls for us to leave. I stayed in that position until mom, asked these few questions which still echoes whenever I find myself deadlocked when buying expensive stuffs nowadays.

"Kailangang kailangan mo ba yan anak?"

"Hindi ba puwedeng ipostpone yan?"

"Anong kapalit na gagawin mo kapag binili ko ito?"

One would get tempted to say that I was conditioned to consider everything first before acquiring toys at a young age. It maybe viewed as repression on my part but as I grew older, I learned to appreciate the lessons mother tried to teach me. In truth, we could not afford indulging ourselves with material gains, but rather than let my unprepared ears hear what she had to imply, mom applied psychology to let me see things her way.

With much prodding from the salesladies who surrounded us, (for the store was already closed and they were probably itching to go home) mom gave up and bought the Fuchsia Toyota Crown which I had set my eyes on since arriving there that evening. Because she spent the budget set for our dinner for my new toy car, she resisted the urge to stop at Stateside Burger for us to grab something to eat.

Our stomachs were empty when we arrived home at past midnight.

---

Avenida is dying. The old nooks of my childhood - the sundry movie houses showing the latest films; the thrift shops that lined the street; and even the Stateside Burger Joint at the corner of Recto and Avenida are now gone. Save for Madison's Department Store, whose passing is as imminent as its geriatric Tsinoy captain and its crew of aged salesladies, what is left of Avenida are rows and rows of Ukay-ukay stores, cellphone repair shops, a couple of motels and a handful of seedy beer houses which have already turned the strip into a derelict.

I do not know if an urban renewal plan could turn the place around, but as I passed by the same sidewalk this evening on my way home, I cannot help but trace back the steps which my mom and I used to tread during our bonding nights. Amidst the cigarette vendors, low - key prostitutes and vagrants of all lore, I was busy recollecting my thoughts to re-imagine the Avenida that was.

The Manila COD Diaries (First Part)

Notes written for on-the-job training documentation purposes. Original notebook still survives.

Wordings and tenses modified to improve the clarity of each entry.

---

Monday. November 24, 1997

"Today we went to Manila COD to attend the orientation. There were around 10 of us from my batch and the speaker talked endlessly about using the time card, the rules and regulations of the company, the allowance we will receive at the end of our duty and the control gate where we need to show up first and be frisked before reporting to our respective departments within the store premises..."

Sunday. November 30, 1997

"Tonight is the eve of my OJT. I want to spend my free time lounging and doing nothing at home because I will miss bumming for quite some time. I'm very tense of what will happen tomorrow because I don't know if I can survive the hardships of being a salesclerk...

...I know that later on, my life will go back to normal and this opportunity will be my key to the future...

I expect problems specially adjusting to my new environment because I don't have any experience working before. I expect troubles coming my way knowing how stupid and clumsy I could become sometimes."

Monday. December 1, 1997

"Today is the first day of work. I left PUP at around 1:40 pm and ate dinner shortly after arriving in Cubao believing that we will stay up until 9:00 pm. When we showed up at the control gate, the security personnel asked us to proceed to the HR department to claim our time card and ID. We went back to the CG after receiving final instructions, where we found our supervisors restlessly waiting...

I was assigned to the Boys Wear Department...

...I encountered different kinds of customers. At first, I asked them how I could be of assistance. Most of them only got annoyed and avoided my presence. Later on, I learned a new technique in handling customers. I would just stand beside them, like the mannequins around us, until they approach me and seek my assistance. That was how I was able to close 7 sales on my first day..."

Tuesday. December 2, 1997

"It's my second day at work and I am still adjusting to my new surroundings. I arrived at past 3 in the afternoon since we stayed first in my classmate's house near COD. There's nothing to worry about since they expect us to report later in the afternoon...

The supervisor was absent so there's no pressure in my department. I was introduced to the sales assistants, most of them have been with COD for decades, and the other 2 trainees from our school. These trainees were from college. Although I was not able to memorize their names, except for Sir Manny who was assigned to be my guide yesterday, I came up with nicknames to get acquainted with my new workmates.

... I had a customer, she's an old woman and from her looks, one would get an impression that she does not earn well. But I was touched because even if she looks poor, he bought 3 pairs of shorts and shirts which are on sale for her three kids.

... I was able to use the intercom to request for sizes and additional stocks for the first time. I was also able to hold and verify a credit card without any assistance from the other sales assistants. What a great achievement!

... We left the store at 9:15. Bad Trip! I was left behind when all my classmates made sabit at the jeep. There was no space available and if I force myself to hitch at the side rails, there's a good chance of falling off the vehicle."


Sunday. December 7, 1997

"Busy day at work. There were a lot of customers at the store because of the sale yesterday. Unfortunately, there were many of us trainees as well so I wasn't approached very often. It's my worst day of the week because I came late for the first time. I also lost my company ID and school ID this evening. I wasn't able to find them."

---

Next door is COD Department Store, which is known for its animated Christmas tableaux. One of the biggest department stores in the country during the ’70s, COD is owned by the family of Ral del Rosario Jr. who was once a swimming champion in the Asian Games. People came in droves during the holidays just to see the COD display. All the shows are Christmas in theme, but the motif would change every year. One time it was a rustic celebration of Christmas; another time, it was Christmas in outer space, with Santa Claus emerging from a spaceship. For years, it was an event for many shoppers to drop by Cubao just to see the show.

Rikki Jimenez
Remembering the Araneta Center during Dekada ’70



I just found Sir Manny's Friendster after publishing this entry. Ah the joys of remembering. Hope he still remembers.




-tobecontinued-

IV - Salesmanship

Once I had a dream of earning big by turning all my energies to running a business. It was an ambitious goal, whose beginnings I could not even recall. The drive urged me to choose Salesmanship as my elective in high school. Though it wasn't as cool or prestigious like the other electives like Bookkeeping and Stenography, I knew how practical the applications were of the subject my heart would like to take.

During enrollment, some of my classmates-to-be shed tears after learning that they were banished among the dregs. You see, Salesmanship had a very bad rep in our high school. There was this age-old myth propagated by the teachers that those being thrown there ends up being corrupted by its below-average majority.

"Kaya kung ayaw niyong maging kalawang sa high school, wag na wag kayong pupunta sa Sales!" our teacher in second year sternly warned.

With the intense drive to be an achiever, to be associated with the academically-challenged compromised one's chances of being on top. However, when I learned that my application was granted, (yes, I was one of the brave kids who defied the myth and really applied for that elective) I ran from one end of the corridor to the other to joyfully announce my victory over the current order. Those chosen to represent the star sections would find my cause of celebration quite silly (for they double-think that I'm not just a loser, I even validated it) but there I was, giddy and excited for the school year that was to come.

Flash forward two years later. In the elective subject known to us as Marketing, we learned to understand and respect market forces and harness them to our own needs. We may not have the physics, chemistry and algebra geniuses of the other sections, but our combined wealth, selling experience and delinquent influence among the better students gave us the leverage to sway them to our side. We embraced the principles - point by point - of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. We immersed ourselves to companies big and small in hopes of understanding their operations (where I had to do a term paper alone after standing against my group who did nothing during my one-on-one interview with an export company, then suggesting that we should do a report on San Miguel instead) And finally, instead of wasting our time doing high school kids do (falling in love - less, getting vain with our looks and get-ups - less and making all those pa-cute things just to get noticed - less) we sold anything (including those cutesy and rosy stationary pads used to writing love letters) to anyone just to apply what we learned in class.

The year before, we sold snacks, chips and candies to the entire high school department through our little sari-sari store outside the classroom for a project; we provided the star sections ideas on how to make money instead of spending their leisure time pursuing their geeky or vanity passions; and finally, we let them use our classroom to play Magic Cards (and spare them from embarrassment of getting caught doing a violation in their untainted corners) provided that they will support and patronize any money-generating enterprise the best of us could come up with.

Such was the life we had in the final years of my high school. I do not know if anyone from the class did really set their eyes to achieving our money-generating dreams, but now that it is all coming back, I remember, once there was a teen, and his stepping stone to getting acquainted with real-life marketing was to become a salesclerk. There, at Manila COD in Cubao did he learn to assist customers from all walks of life, swipe credit cards and record invoices, and slip his feet in someone else's shoes to become the person who takes his inquiries and orders, now that he's the one who lets others swipe his card whenever he purchases at a department store.

His older reveries echo through mine and now that I am coming up with a serious distraction to counter my economic insurgencies, his thoughts and optimism, I hope, will drown any hesitation for pushing on with my new-found life alterations.

---

-tobecontinued-

Glint Of Starlight

May Viagra na pala sa Davao City mga suki.

Ayon sa ating mga sources, P80 bawat piraso ang halaga ng nasabing sex pill.

Para sa mga Pinoy na may problema sa kanilang ibong adorno, chicken feed lamang ang nasabing presyo.

Iyon nga lamang, duda tayo kung kakagatin ng mga Pinoy ang nasabing produkto.

Alam ninyo naman ang ating lahi, mas problema natin kung papaano magpapalambot kaysa sa pagpapatigas.

o0o

Tama lamang sa kano ang produktong Viagra.

Kalahati sa kanilang male population ay baklain at ang natitirang kalahati palambutin.

Sabi nga ng isa nating babaeng kaibigan na sukat na pumatol sa kano, para raw matandang uugod-ugod ang sa kano.

Kailangan umanong hawakan at akayin upang matumbok ang daan na ibig tahakin.

Hindi katulad anya ng sa Pinoy; kahit na patay ang ilaw, basta't butas, pasak!

Suwak!

o0o

Bakit klik ang Viagra?

Susme, parang hindi na kayo nasanay sa ating male population.

Pumasok kayo sa loob ng simbahan, karamihan sa mga nakaupo at nagdarasal ay mga bata at mga kababaihan.

Ang mga kalalakihan? Nasa pinto ng simbahan. Naninigarilyo. Seryosong may pinaguusapan.

Pupusta tayo, ang topic ng kanilang usapan kung hindi pulitika ay kalibugan at agham.

At kung may kelot na nagdarasal sa loob ng simbahan, ang kaniyang dasal ay hindi ang pag-ulan ng kuwarta.

Iyon ay ang pag-ulan ng mga Osang Roces, Ara Mina, Piel Morena, Izza Ignacio, Aya Papaya, Rita Pukersiya etc.

o0o

Noong ating kapanahunan, madalas nating itanong sa ating sarili kung tayo ay sex maniac.

Kase ba naman, binubuliglig tayo suki ng mga ala-ala nina Eva Marie, Scarlett Revilla, Rizza at kung sinu-sino pa. Dose oras na sila lamang ang laman ng ating utak.

Nagtanong tayo sa ating mga kaibigan. Napailing sila. Naawa sa atin.

Abnoy daw tayo.

Sila kasi ay twenty four hours na pinagpapantasyahan ang mga chicks na ito.

o0o

Ngayong tayo ay magkaroon ng anak na lalaki ay madalas nating itanong sa ating sarili kung ano kaya ang kanyang iniisip.

Sabi nga ng commercial; what's on your mind?

Kamakailan ay natuklasan natin ang kanyang pinapangarap. Nagsalita siya habang nanaginip.

Marahil ay ito rin ang laman ng utak ng mga kabataan sa ngayon.

Ano iyon?

Pentium 2 300 (MHz),
32 MB-RAM
1.44 MB FDD
2.0 GB HDD
2 MB Video Card
SVGA Colored Monitor,
with server

Ayon sa kanya, kung ibig niyang makipag-usap sa kanyang kapwa kabataan ay mayroon silang chatline, kung ibig niyang sumulat ay may E-mail, at may strategy games siyang pinaglalaruan na "laro umano ng may utak."

Siya umano ay naka-on line

Tang'na, weirdo na talaga ang mga kabataan!

Nawala na ang mga curacha sa kanilang isipan.

o0o

Remate Tonight
May 30, 1998
Columm Title: Viagra 2

---

It was the dawn of a new age. Internet has just arrived in the country. To ride with the changing times, I wrote a letter to my dad requesting him to upgrade my desktop computer.

The letter was written in a juvenile and haphazard fashion. I just graduated from a state-funded high school and the prospects of competing in an upscale university made me a little insecure with my resources. I do not remember the contents of my letter, but I emphasized the need for an upgrade so I could catch up and be at the forefront of the information age.

He didn't respond to my letter. I thought that my plea was rejected.

In truth, I sought to have a computer upgrade so I could play all the strategy games that has become my addiction during those days: Civilization 2, Master of Orion: Battle At Antares, Transport Tycoon, Warcraft 2, etc. I needed a computer with faster processing abilities so I can out-guy every computer geek I would meet in school. He didn't find out my ulterior motives, but nevertheless, he took no interest to my appeal.

Until I found out weeks later that he made reference to my letter in his daily columns.

My dad was a writer - a prolific and respected one during his lifetime. Many political personalities sought his opinion on how to reach out to the masses - the maralita who understood his every word. My dad and I never saw each other eye to eye, but now I understand that despite his imperfections and shortcomings, he did his best to ensure that we will have a future that is better than his broken and sad childhood.

The wise men of the ancients said to honor thy parents' name even after they have long past, for in their noble memory one finds peace and contentment in life. It took me two years and a dream encounter to finally settle the scores that kept us cold and distant in the twilight days of his life.

Four years and an online journal that could stand up to his tabloid writings, I give honor to my father by letting his voice resonate throughout the endless corners of cyberspace.

Sana ang kanyang kaisa-isang naiwang column sa akin ay magpapatunay na kahit magkaiba man ang naging direksyon ng aming buhay, hindi kailanman nawala ang pag-ibig namin sa wika.

Mabuhay ka dad. In a few years time, ang naging boses mo ay magiging boses ko na rin.

Welcome Wagon

Makati Avenue
Past Midnight

It is on a same Friday night like this that I find myself walking alone on a not so different road. Empty cabs pass by with droopy-eyed drivers looking for passengers emerging from the bars that line the street. Most of these revelers would come out of their watering holes drunk and on the verge of passing out. Accompanied by friends or newly-met accomplices, they would hail the taxis and often haggle with the drivers seeking extra payment before they take them home. Across the street, trance music blares from the gargantuan speakers of a dance club. Not far from the dance club, a multitude of laughter could be heard inside a comedy bar as the host picks up and taunts one of the guests with highly scandalous questions a fifteen-year old kid should never hear.

Somewhere across that stretch, maybe a couple of blocks away from where I stand is an obscure ktv bar where my pack decides to lodge themselves. Coming from a booze party earlier that evening, belting diva songs is what keeps the alcohol from taking over their swirling heads.

Meanwhile, I have other plans for the night.

After my pack settles down in one of the round circular tables inside the ktv bar, I would leave the spot barely noticed. I would then troop to my favorite Coyote bar to watch nymphets perform their erotic dance moves on top of bar counters. As they grind their asses to the sound of Trance music, the male audience would scream "take it off," to the delight of everyone. The performers would then, slowly take-off their blouses, shirts, or spaghetti straps (and sometimes their skirts) revealing their underwear. At one time, one of the bar owners was present during the performance and the nymphet took off her bra to the cheers of those lucky enough to witness such spectacle.

Those were my heydays.

After a few hours of screaming, cheering and dancing on the dance floor, my mobile phone would vibrate. The text message comes from one of my friends I left at the ktv bar.

"Balik ka na, uuwi na tayo."

I could ignore the message in my inbox and stay there until dawn. But traditions tell that the pack should go home together after a night's party. After receiving the SMS message, I would leave the club not minding even if the girls show their shaved kitties. After all, who would be interested in pink flaps when it is the big guns I'm longing to play at the end of the night.

Arriving at the ktv bar minutes later, some of my companions were gone. They leave in groups to ensure that nobody gets left behind. Those who remain are the one's I'd join inside the cab going home. It has been our way ever since.

And it remains unbroken even if times have changed.

"Tara school bus ulit," one of us would blurt out.

School bus. A childish name we have given to the habit of riding a cab in groups and dropping each one of the passengers at their doorsteps. Others would never notice this little intimacy of togetherness or even bother to give a name to it. But to us, it is how we forged our friendship. It is during these quiet joyrides that we truly bond and share our stories, feelings and dreams with our companions. It is these late-night cab rides that make us constantly remember who we are and why we should never forget.

Especially the one who made these after-party school bus rides possible; the one who connects everyone in the group.

---

Inside Club Government:

"Huy bumalik ka na dito! Nasa taxi na daw siya." It was a text message from a friend who took the mantle after our central figure left to settle abroad.

I returned to Tienanmen Bar half an hour later. I found the people I left still downing bottles of beer and talking to each other that they barely noticed my arrival. Suddenly, one of those seated across the table shouted "Andyan na siya!" which disrupted the train of conversations. We turned our heads toward the door and saw a big guy approaching our table. The bar was dimly lit and his silhouette is what we saw. His rounded figure, wide grin which we can still see in the dark and his visibly short hair recall the features still embedded on our heads.

"OMG Omeng! Welcome back!!!"

Everyone sober enough to get up scrambled to greet our host.

---

It's been years since he left.

Surreal as it may seems, but last night, four years of distance seem like a week apart.

Theory of Insanity

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

- Albert Einstein

---

Mami Athena conducted a training for the special accounts operators yesterday. Apparently, the clients abroad were not happy with how we are handling their user's concerns. Our means of calling their attention to return and use the service does not work anymore. New strategies must be applied to keep them interested in our "I-can-see-the-future" role-playing game.

The quote from Albert Einstein was her introduction. She said that we have been doing the same job for a long time that our old methods have already become a routine. We might not notice how formulaic our responses are, but the users feel that the longer they stay in the service, the more their "personal psychics" sounded like a machine. "It turns them away," Mami Athena explained, "Kumita na kasi ang style niyo."

Her recommendation was to change the way we talk to the users. "A product must have three qualities for it to survive the market," She said. Mami then went to point the three phrases written on the white board. "Personalized Approach, Buzzwords, and Call to Action." Suddenly, we found ourselves having a crash-course in Marketing. Much as her subject felt so alien to me, I knew such knowledge would greatly improve my chances of having a longer chat strings at work.

"If it comes from her, then it must be essential." I said to myself.

"Let's have Tide and Surf as an example," My surrogate mom continued. She then made a gesture as if holding two imaginary sachet in her hands. "Tide has its own market, while Surf sells more than its rival because of its lower price." My head wanders, I do not know anything about laundry soaps. Nevertheless, my ears were all hers. "In order for Tide to survive, it's campaign should have sounded like this..."

I do not know if it was the cold weather or my brooding fears about the family business that was responsible, but staring at Mami's eyes as she spoke in front of us explaining the ins and outs of advertising, suddenly made me remember how it used to be like in high school.

Long before I discovered my gift in writing and long before I discovered my liking for boys, my first love was with business. Back in high school we were given advanced subjects according to our academic capacities. The students who belong to the cream of the crop of the batch took up Bookkeeping. The average ones were assigned to Stenography and Office Management. While we, who were considered the delinquents and below-average were thrown to Salesmanship. It was a mark of embarrassment for many, but it was a wish came true for me.

For two years, I made it a point to achieve excellence in my field of study. We studied theories, consumer behavior, Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs and so on. We were sent outside the campus to interview entrepreneurs, big businesses and corporations, and for two quarters of the school year, we ran the only corner store allowed in our building.

We were the richest students in the batch.

However, much as I would like to take up Business Administration in College, my weakness in Mathematics pulled me out of the ranks and out of the schools I took entrance exams in fourth year. The summer after graduation, I had to beg my aunt in the Royal Pontifical University to push for my application's reconsideration in the Faculty of Arts and Letters. Fortunately, they saw my potentials and my thrust began to change from selling and starting a business to pursuing the arts and unleashing my creative muses.

Another four years had passed and college molded me to become a man of letters.

As Mami continued to explain our new strategy in winning back our users by using Tide as an example, it came to me that it's never too late to pursue my ancient dream.

"Kapag Tide ang ginamit mo, magkakaroon ka ng mas maraming panahon sa iyong pamilya." Mami was citing an example of a Personal Approach.

"Dahil ang Tide ay mabula at konting kuskos lang, tanggal lahat ng dumi sa damit." She asked one of my colleagues to state what she thought was the buzz words in the sentence. Hesitantly, she answered the words mabula, kuskos and dumi sa damit. My colleague was correct.

"Kaya't ano pa ang iniintay mo misis, bili na ng tide!" Had I heard the example of Call to Action she had given while inside the supermarket, I'd immediately return Ariel back to its shelf and pick Tide instead. Who can blame me, I'm just partial to my Mami.

The refresher course went on for another thirty minutes before she dismissed us so we could take charge of the account left by the shift before on the floor. I still have to see if her new methods would improve the chat strings I make in every text conversation. Nevertheless, I am glad she made me remember my roots in business. It would be something worth exploring the more I feel threatened that my family's way of life might be taken away from us.

As for Albert Einstein and his definition of insanity, It came to me that I'm going around in circles lately. My issues with Phanks and my new-found independence remains unresolved. My fears of starting all over again and falling madly in love with another person hounds me like a restless ghost. And my attempts in putting up walls and closing down my doors and avoiding places of distraction have just boxed me up but it never did something to really improve my well-being.

It's like doing so many related things over and over expecting a different result.

If only it would be easy to come up with a convincing call of action like Mami encourages us to do, I would immediately say yes to what my mind desires me to execute. However, with no plan to hold on to and no clear aim in sight, changes will be easier said than done.

"Just avoid going in circles and aim for the first straight line you will come across..."

What really matters at the moment is that Einstein's theory never applies to me.

Spirit Within

Mga ganitong araw noong bata kami nagsisimula ang diwa ng Pasko sa aming lugar. Pagkagat ng dilim, kanya-kanya kaming labasan sa aming mga bahay upang magtipon sa isang lugar para pag-usapan ang pangangaroling pagsapit ng gabi. Hapon pa lang ay nakahanda na ang mga instrumentong aming gagamitin. Nariyan ang tambol na gawa sa lata ng gatas na hiningi sa isang kapitbahay. Ito ay tinatanggalan namin ng plastic na takip upang pasakan ng cellophane na magsisilbing drumhead nito. Gamit ang mga gomang napanalunan sa isang larong kalye, ang cellophane ay aming inuunat gamit ang mga goma bilang panali hanggang ito ay magkaroon ng tunog. Ang drumstick ay gawa sa kawayan na ginamit na pantuhog ng Banana Que. Madalas ay pinupulot namin ito sa basurahan. Ang dulo ng stick ay binabalutan namin ng plastic bag na tinalian ng goma upang ito ay tumalbog sa tuwing tumatama sa kasama nitong tambol.

Kapag sinisipag, nariyan rin ang Tambourine na gawa sa mga tansan. Ang mga tansan ay aming pipitpitin hanggang sa ito'y maging flat at bubutasan sa gitna gamit ang pako at martilyo upang magsilbing lagusan ng wire kapag ang mga tansan ay amin nang pinagsama-sama. Hindi ko na matandaan kung may iba pang mga instrumento na gamit noon sa pangangaroling. Basta sa aming lugar sa Santa Mesa, sapat na ang dalawa.

Kadalasan, ang unang pintuan na kinakantahan ay ang sa kapitbahay. Bukod kasi sa kakilala na, imposible ang masabihan ng "patawad po!" lalo na't kapag ang nanay ay nasa bakuran lang ng bahay mo. Madalas ay sila rin ang pinaka-mataas magbigay ng aginaldo na noong kapanahunan ko ay hindi tataas ng tatlong piso. Ang saya no? Ganito kasimple ang buhay noon. Mayroon mang TV Patrol sa TV - na si Noli De Castro pa ang news anchor, wala sa aming bokabularyo ang maglagi lang sa loob ng bahay upang manood lang ng telenovela.

Magbalik tayo sa pangangaroling. Upang maging madali ang hatian, nililimitahan ang kasapi sa tatlo o apat depende sa dami ng musical accompaniment ng grupo. Mayroon nga dating mga bata, soloflight na sila sa pagkanta, ni Tambourine ay wala pang kadala-dala. Gawin daw bang A capella ang "Sa Aming Bahay." Madalas sila ang nabibiktima ng "patawad po!" Kung hindi man rejected, laging maliit ang natatanggap nilang aginaldo galing sa mga bahay-bahay.

Iikot ang gabi na para bang walang pasok sa paaralan kinabukasan. Sabagay, sa mga panahong ito ay Christmas Mood na rin sa aming Catholic School. Nariyan ang mga adbento-adbento, ang pagsisindi ng mga kandila tuwing Flag Ceremony at ang walang katapusang pagpla-plano ng Christmas Party at Christmas decoration ng mga rooms. Pati ang mga teacher ay tinatamad rin sa kanilang lessons, palibhasa kasi ay nasa kung saan na ang mga utak nila. Come to think of it, masaya sa elementarya. Sana lang ay puwede tayo maging pupil habambuhay.

Sa buong takbo ng pangangaroling, mararanasan namin ng maraming beses ang mapatawad. Madalas ay walang barya o kaya naman ay naunahan kami ng kumpetisyon salamat sa ibang mga bata na dumayo pa galing sa ibang lugar. Sa tindi ng kumpetisyon, makakarating kami ng ibang baranggay at papasok sa mga eskinita na walang lagusan. Mababastos rin kami ng mga tambay at kakahulan ng mga aso na animo'y mas malaki pa sa amin.

Sa sampung bahay na magbibigay sa amin ng aginaldo, anim dito puro mamiso. Ang isa ay singkwenta sentimos at kung makaka-jackpot ay maaring may magbigay ng limang piso. Pero dahil wala pang limang pisong coins noon, maaring nag-iilusyon lang ako. Sa hinaba-haba ng Christmas Season dito sa bansa, darating rin ang mga gabi na puro patawad ang iyong maririnig. Ang ibang mga bata ay babawi sa pagkanta nila ng "Tenk yu, Tenk yu, ambabarat ninyo Tenk yu!!" sabay takbo papalayo sa bahay. Ang iba naman ay bubwelo pa lang sa pagkanta subalit nakatanggap na ng isang malutong na "Patawad," bago pa sila makahinga. Sa pagdaan ng panahon, masasawa ka rin na kada gabi na lang ay may kakantang mga bata sa iyong pintuan upang manghingi ng aginaldo. Sa mga bata naman, nakakawalang gana rin ang mangaroling gabi-gabi na alam mong wala kang mapapala sa dami ng rejections na natanggap mo. Siguro ito rin ang dahilan kung bakit sa panahon ngayon, bihira na lang ang may kumakanta ng "Sa Aming Bahay." Maaring sa ilang lugar ay nangyayari pa ito, subalit sa amin ay wala na akong naririnig pa.

Christmas is around the corner, ang sabi nila. Sa bahay nga ay ilang linggo na akong kinakantahan ni Yaya para magdagdag ng Christmas Lights sa labas ng bahay. Masyado daw malungkot sa compound dahil walang nagsasabit ng ilaw o kahit parol man lang. Naghahanda na rin ang mga malls at palengke sa dagsa ng mga tao para sa nalalapit na pagdiriwang. Tiyak, marami na rin ang nagscra-scramble para makahanap ng karelasyon maiwasan lang maging miyembro ng SMC ngayong taon.

At para sa mga katulad kong nakakamiss ng nakaraan habang patuloy na naglalakad sa isang hinaharap na walang kasiguraduhan,

Ang alaala ng pangangaroling noong aking kabataan ang isa sa mga bagay upang ang diwa ng Pasko ay patuloy na magkaroon ng totoong halaga sa akin.

Kahit pa na sa maraming pagkakataon ay unti-unti ko na itong kinakalimutan.

---

Christmas Shopping spree officially began this afternoon.
All for the sake of capturing the spirit...

->"<-

Dear Raizen

We've both came into each other's lives just when we're at the lowest point of our existence. Too bad, we've met at the wrong place, wrong set-up; you left your fling just to get my attention that night, and did something at the wrong time... we born out of mistakes.

But those mistakes would sooner be my redemption. Your mistakes to your fling compelled me to stay when you were alone at the bar. The mistakes we did that morning provided the key for me to get attached... to you.

A few days followed and feeling became mutual... mutual infatuation, mutual fear. Maybe those mistakes we've done individually before are the reasons why we fear each other's company now: You, cannot believe me that I am beginning to close other doors in favor of you.. I, always terrifying myself that you were just there to make my life more miserable than before. We brood those fears until it burst out tonight.

You want to set me free because you think that what you feel is just a mere mistake, while I, trying to cling on to you to correct whatever mistakes I have done in my past.

Probably, we're in limbo now, but you know what. That stupid feeling, which tormented me this past few days is also my single source of strength: resume finally completed after three weeks of attempting to write it, the much planned diet and fitness lifestyle that would turn everything upside down, finally, has now been set in motion.

I may never know what other things I could do by mere driving me to push the limits. Probably this is what they call love, but now I am experiencing one of the most horrible birth pains I have been.

So what now, reason suggests that I should take steps swiftly but at the same time moderating it on multi-dimensional levels. Probably I'll meet you today, like I did yesterday.. and know whatever I need to know about you, before doing stupid things out of... love.

Till then, don't worry and take care.

We're just fictional characters after all.

"Birth Pains"
Pinoyexchange, Alien Nation One
November 18, 2002

---

Siya si Raizen, ang una kong naging boyfriend. Naging kami walong buwan matapos akong makipag-split up sa aking girlfriend. Bente-uno ako noon samantalang siya naman ay bente-otso. Ang layo ng pagitan no?

Buong akala ko na siya ang magdadala sa relasyon namin, subalit doon ako nagkakamali. Masyado akong napaniwala na bilang matanda sa akin, siya ang gagabay sa mga bagay na hindi ko alam tungkol sa buhay PLU. Naloko niya ako. Baguhan man sa relasyong lalaki sa lalaki, subalit ako ang higit nagsuko ng aking kalayaan upang ibsan ang kanyang mga pangamba sa aming pagsasama. Tingin niya kasi ay explorer ako samantalang siya naman ay nawalan na ng tiwala sa pag-ibig. Binago ko ang kanyang impression, ngunit sa maraming pagkakataon ay mukhang nabigo ako.

Sa tatlong buwang naming pagiging kami, araw-araw akong umaalis sa trabaho ng maaga upang siya ay masundo sa kanyang HMO Clinic. Ma-late ako ng ilang minuto at tiyak ay pagmumulan ito ng away. Hawak niya ang aking cellphone at lahat ng mag-text dito ay lagi niyang iniisip na aking kalandian. Bago matulog ay kailangan kong i-miss call ang kanyang telepono gamit ang landline sa bahay upang kanyang matiyak ang aking kinaroroonan. Bago mag-alas sais ng umaga ay kailangan rin na nai-text ko na sa kanya ang aking good morning text message.

Nasikil ang aking kalayaan noon sa ngalan ng pag-ibig. Noong unang beses na nagbanta siya ng paghihiwalay ay naging saksi si Dodong sa aking paghagulgol sa telepono. Bilang lang sa daliri ang mga araw na hindi kami nag-away at noong siya ay ma-confine sa isang ospital sa Ortigas dahil sa isang karamdaman, hindi ang kanyang pamilya ang unang sumaklolo sa kanya.

Ako.

Marahil ay naging madali para sa kanya ang lahat para ma-appreciate ang mga sakripisyo ko. Looking at a hindsight, ang tanging hiningi ko lang sa kanya ay commitment - ang monogamy. Sa kasamaang palad, ako rin ang sumira nito nang minsang napagod ako kakasunod sa kanya. Humingi ako ng assurance sa iba, na buong lugod na binigay sa akin ng isang nakilala ko sa isang club. Tinuturing kong the best yung One Night Stand na yun. Ilang araw matapos ang mga nangyari ay naging matapang na ako. Sa mga araw na hindi siya nagpaparamdam ay nakatuon ang aking focus sa mga kaibigan. Sumapit ang Valentines Day na nagkakalabuan kaming dalawa. Sa kabila nito, may regalo akong Regine CD para sa kanya. Pagdating sa kanyang clinic nang hapong iyon ay naabutan ko siyang pinagmamalaki ang isang Rose stem na bigay sa kanya diumano ng isang admirer.

"Buti pa yung iba, binibigyan ako ng rose samantalang yung iba diyan, wala."

Lubha kong dinamdam iyon. Hindi kami nagpansinan buong biyahe pauwi.

Akmang ibibigay ko sa kanya ang Regine CD na ilang linggo na niya inaasam nang bigla niya itong binalik sa akin. Sa pagkakataong iyon, naubos ang pasensya ko. Ako ang nag-walk out sa pagitan naming dalawa. February 14, araw ng mga puso para sa karamihan ang araw ng aming paghihiwalay.

Taon ang binilang bago ko siya napatawad. Nangyari lamang ang aming closure nang harap-harapan niyang inamin sa akin ang mga nawala noong ako ay kanyang bitawan. I was vindicated. Sa totoo, water under the bridge na ang lahat kahit na ang mga ala-alang natira ay ang aming pangit na nakaraan.

Ilang araw ko na iniisip kung bakit sumagi si Raizen nang si Tannis ay naghangad pumasok sa aking buhay. Sa unang impression ay mukha naman silang iba ng personality. Handa na sana akong ipagwalang-bahala ang nararamdaman kong konesyon sa kanilang dalawa nang bigla ay nabasa ko ang mga patnubay na aking iniwan upang maging silbing babala sa aking hinaharap.

It pays when you write in the past addressed to your future.

---

nagkita kami, nagkasama, nagpalitan ng kaluluwa.

mas matanda, higit na mas may "experience" sa mga naka-impluwensya sakin, bitter sa pag-ibig, may tendency makipaglaro at manakit ng puso,

"sweet," may trabaho, game at agresibo, bansot pero sobrang whammy para sa akin (kahit ipilit niyang panget siya), mas discreet at masculine sakin at higit sa lahat eh trip akong kasama (siya ang unang lumapit)... ewan ko pero parang hulog siya ng langit (o padala ng impyerno) dipende sa magiging galaw ko.

At ano naman ang magiging galaw ko...

magpapaka-tweetums (kahit pang-tukling), ida-date (kahit sya ang may trabaho at ako ang wala), pasimpleng papasok sa buhay niya't lalasunin siya para tamaan ng todo sa akin (hehehe)
In short: magiinvest ako ng emotions, para sa mokong na yun.

To the point: ano ang gusto kong mangyari balang araw?

Buddy, F-uc-k Buddy (sayang naman kasi eh), Open Commitment, (sya ang open, ako ang solid) Ka-Tropa, Bestfriend, Big Brother Material... Ewan, nakakatakot siya eh, madali niya akong magagag0 kung gusto niya.

Endymionn, ano ang iyong depensa?

Wala eh... ipilit ko mang sabihin sa utak kong sasaktan niya rin ako kapag tinuloy ko ang galaw ko... huli na rin eh, nagsimula na akong magpakat a n g a sa harap niya eh. Magkikita pa kaya kami?

Pero kung maari lang... kahit sa pantasya lang, sana makasama ko ulit siya...

TAENA, puso ko ba yung tumibok?!?!

"Happy Thoughts 4"
Pinoyexchange, Alien Nation One
November 16, 2002

---

Now I understand why I let fear consume me more than Tannis' promise of a future.




---

-tobecontinued-
pex entries unedited to preserve the author's writing.

Tita Cory

Her husband was brutally assassinated two years after I was born.

And from there she became part of my life, even if such connection remains very distant.

The world hails her as the First Female President in Asia, but as far as I can remember, the only thing that comes to mind whenever I think about her presidency are the numerous coup attempts that almost toppled her leadership.

Who would ever forget, we used to live a walking distance away from Malacanang. It was 2 am in the morning. We heard Machine Gun and Armalite sounds everywhere. Mom was pushing our heads under the bed, as she covered our little bodies with all the pillows she could grab on top of the bed. Dad was nowhere to be found. He must have been hiding somewhere. Remembering those days, I rarely saw him being with us.

The next morning, we were picked up by my mother's sister who was worried about our situation. We stayed in her place somewhere in Paranaque for a week until things have settled down and order was restored.

In those days, everyone who raised the L or Laban sign were considered good guys. But since my late father belonged to the communist underground during her time and my mother had sympathies with those who were against American imperialism, which apparently she openly supported during her presidency, I never felt her as President. Yes, she was there during the two great disasters - the July 1990 earthquake and the 1991 Mt. Pinatubo Eruption. It was during her time where we experienced collective suffering by enduring an 8-hour brownout for almost half a year. It was also the time when Francis Magalona became synonymous with his hit song "Mga Kababayan (ko)."

I was still in elementary when she stepped down as the Pangulo that's why I don't remember much as to what her contributions were during her presidency.

It was later in life I realized her true worth as the leader.

It was in college at the height of the Estrada Impeachment Trial where our lives crossed paths. There was a rally in the Senate, and by reenacting the Jericho March, which toppled the walls of Jericho during biblical times, the organizers hoped that by peacefully marching around the senate will the senators be awaken to the true voice of the people.

She was there walking among us.

I do not remember much, but I saw myself approaching to shake her hand. Her bodyguards did not force me away, since probably, they felt I was just a student overwhelmed by her gracious presence. I swear, her yellow blazer was a symbol of radiance in that hot January afternoon. She said some words of affection after I shook her hands. I don't remember them anymore but our brief meeting had made me decide to join the rallies, until Estrada was forced out of office a month after our so-called Jericho March.

After the new president took office, I never joined any civil disobedience activities again.

---

Our mother had suffered from an episode of high blood pressure and difficulty in breathing followed by fever during the week in between Christmas and New Year. Since that time, we became concerned because of her consistent cough, loss of appetite and noticeable weight loss,” she said.

"Our mom wanted to know what was wrong with her, and with her family by her side, she submitted herself to a check-up and several tests. The results showed that our mother is suffering cancer of the colon," she added.

The Aquino family statement said it was the former president who wanted her condition made public because she “has always believed in being upfront. Over and above anything else, she's a woman who has lived her entire life entrusting everything to the Lord, and she has always been a woman of great faith.”

“Alam po namin na ang buhay ng aming pamilya ay bahagi na ng kasaysayan ng ating bayan. Desisyon po ng nanay namin na mag-release kami ng statement, para maunawaan ng lahat ang kanyang kasalukuyang kalagayan [We know that the life of our family is part of the history of our nation. Our mother has decided to have a statement released so that everyone will understand her present condition],” it added.

- Inq7.net

---

The news came as a shock yesterday because for some reasons, I felt that a part of me is moved by her children's gloomy announcement.

It's like having an epic heroine you see all the time on television, a Mon Mothma of modern times suddenly capitulating due to failing health. Others hail her as an icon of democracy. There is no doubt about that. Whenever I think of Tita Cory, not only do I see a mother, intervening for the good of the nation, I guess in the long course of things, she has become the best example of what an enlightened and modest leader should emulate.

It's still too early to tell what the future holds for her. But now that she is suffering. Now that her future remains uncertain. My only regret is that of all the times I've been free to join her non-violent crusades - in Makati, Greenhills or elsewhere, I chose to be a fence-sitter.

An apathetic big boy to the realities of the nation.

And as much as I would like to be optimistic about her health, there remain a possibility that her pro-active days are nearing over.

Bunny Interludes Twenty Five

The chasing ends here, for I have finally caught the bunny.

The long struggle is over. I have succeeded in my aim to get fit.

I went to the gym last night after my shift at work had ended. It was a spur of the moment decision I undertook after realizing that I've stopped working out for the past four days. Lately, my work out routine has been very erratic. Unlike during the first months of the year, where I followed my program as religiously as possible, I feel that my gym activities these days are simply done to maintain my well-guarded achievement.

After I changed to my work-out attire, I went to the weighting scale to check if there's any progress in my weight. What I was hoping for is that I gained some pounds in order for me to have something to trim down again. Honestly, I find this truly ironic because a year ago, I would check my weight hoping that I shed some pounds from my body. Now, I'm checking the scale to see whether I gained some pounds for being very complacent in my activities. Unfortunately, it wasn't the case. For the first time after I stepped out of college six years ago, I am back to what my frame was in those blissful heydays.

The scale registered that I am 160 lbs.

It means that from the time I seriously dreamed of getting fit to the time I checked my weight last night, I already lost around 50 lbs.

I owe a huge part of the success to my alarming eating habits, which I think is already killing me slowly. Since I arrive home late at night, nobody's up to prepare my dinner. Therefore, heavy meals are set during the afternoons - where I combine my breakfast and lunch before heading off to work. Dinners are always oatmeals, a meal which I used to eat at breakfast when I was still in the morning shift. After the great scare of February, I gradually changed my diet to accommodate more steamed vegetables than fried meat dishes. It proves to be a healthier alternative, but the diet denied me a source of protein and other nutrients which my body is in dire need of every time I go to the gym.

Since my work and school schedule had already limited my ability to go out and do other things, my trips to fast food restaurants had also been stifled. Except for munching a large order of French Fries occasionally, I can't remember the last time I had a full stomach after eating in Jollibee or Mcdonalds. Sugar intake has been limited to less than a teaspoon every day. Since i don't often drink carbonated or artificially flavored drinks lately, water has been my constant source of fluids since last January.

If you think about it. I'm doing the extreme. The irony however is that my body has already adopted to take such beating and it doesn't matter how much I deny myself now that my appetite don't find those things appealing anymore.

And in a more ironic twist of fate, I lately realized that the promises I said to myself when I was still dreaming to get fit are not the ones I would take importance now that my aims have been realized.

By now, I should be spending my free time going to boutiques and digging the latest fashion trends so I can finally overhaul my closet. Promise ko talaga dati, kapag pumayat ako bibilhin ko lahat ng damit na pinangarap kong masuot tuwing naliligaw ako sa mall. Na-aastigan saki ako sa mga power dressers eh. It's like you're looking up to them because they exude so much confidence in themselves.

But now the only problem that concerns me is how to acquire cheap but sturdy pants, now that I'm facing a wardrobe crisis because the slacks and pants that I'm wearing all the time had become too loose for me. Mukha tuloy akong shabby and haggard all the time.

By now, I should have reclaimed my spot on the dance floor. If I remember it precisely, the first time I realized that I needed to trim down happened during a night-out with Mami with the rest of the morning shift colleagues three years ago. I found myself dancing with a girl and I danced well. The problem however is that I have grown big that I cannot make the moves to impress the girl I was dancing.

I also have this fantasy of going to the ledge and dance in an arousing way like the half-naked hunky go-go boys do. Nothing really turns me on like when someone dances behind me only to rub his crotch against my butt. In my younger days (like younger than DN and Punked) I used to do exhibitions on the ledge. When an admirer begins to touch my body, I'd insist that he squeeze my crotch instead. That how naughty I was, and if given an opportunity, I wouldn't mind doing it again.

But now that I have the opportunity to do it again, age has gotten over me. Not only have I accepted that I mellowed down, even the thought of going to clubs alone compels me to rush going home. Truly, I have become domesticated.

Finally by now, I should be flirting with everyone who catches my fancy. The truth behind posting some sexy pictures in my g4m account before was that I wanted to be noticed. I wanted to increase my market value and become the guys I used to ogle in that website. There was even a time that I'd open my g4m before going to the gym just to remind myself that I wanted someone else's chest/torso/abs/shoulders to be mine someday. I tried to hide this vanity as much as possible. But the truth is, the more I get closer to my objective, the more I became narcissistic and ego-centric.

My last trip to Club Bath early this year revealed how horrible I could be once my physique gets into my head.

But now...

Now that I have the physique that I could stare for hours in a wall mirror (especially when I'm starved in the morning) I'm beginning to realize that what I'm staring at is just a mere body with a semi-developed chest and a flat tummy and nothing more. I know, nothing beats the pleasure of staring at a hunky man's body especially when he flexes his biceps, abs and firm chest in front of the mirror. (dami niyan sa gym ko!) Just last night, I caught this amboy guy changing clothes across from where my bench was. He was not fair or good looking at all, but to stare at his broad shoulders, flat torso and bulging chest had me a hard time putting on my sando. He was so rugged and brusko that I said to myself...

"I want to be like him."

However when you think deeper, it's not the body that really gets you attracted or stay interested in a person. Of course we put huge premium on what the physical package of a person is, but it is his depth of understanding of things, thoughts of life and your similarity in interest that really draws you closer to a person.

Ang sarap sana gamitin ng magandang katawan for hedonistic pursuits, but for some strange reasons, those things do not appeal to me anymore.

While I was doing my 165 lbs squats last night and groaning from pain, I was asking myself over and over what's left now that I have achieved my objective. I could have easily told the supportive trainers that I would like to stop working out because I don't have a need for it anymore.

I could spend my time doing the more ordinary things, like playing video games on my computer or drinking with my friends.

Is it because I still value my vanity? Or is it because I'm afraid to lose what I already have?

This would be the last of the Bunny Interludes entries for I now declare that I have finally caught the bunny.

But...

If I have to continue my gym activities; If I really have to push my limits and achieve that model-modelan body that never in my life I have dreamed of aiming, then I have to come up with deeper reasons to continue getting fit.

Would it be in the name of health? Too cheesy.

Would it be for market value? Too self-serving. Besides, I always considered myself a class-B hipon.

Then maybe its because it's already a lifestyle that I could not take out easily? Possible.

Looking at how many bunny dreamers out there tries to achieve perfection, could I consider myself a poster boy?

I don't know... Perhaps it would be too much of a grand illusion.

But one thing I know is that I was once a dreamer. A chubby guy who was pushed back all the time in a world where physique and looks matter above all else.

"Kasi naman yung isa diyan, ang taba-taba, hindi tuloy tayo magkasya sa sasakyan..."
"No chubbies please..."
"Ang laki laki mo, papayat ka nga!!
"Yang boobs mo parang daig mo pa ang sa babae sa laki."
"Kahit anong gawin mo, hindi na liliit yang tiyan mo Joms"

A sudden remembrance runs inside my head. It hurts you know. But without these criticisms, I won't find myself on the spot where I am today.

Looking at how long and struggling the journey has been.

It wasn't that bad, now that you see it at a hindsight.

---

- the end.

Dark Night Tripping

Sa taxi, kaninang madaling araw habang pauwi si Joms galing sa kanyang inuman.

---

Mugen: Kulit rin nitong si Joms no?

Pulsar: Honga eh. Weirdo talaga.

Mugen: Nagtaxi nga pauwi pero wag ka, pinapatay na ang aircon, nagpabukas pa ng bintana ng taxi. Para namang ang lamig-lamig ng paligid. Sobrang init na kaya!

Pulsar: Ganun talaga, pagbigyan mo na. Nagfreak-out na naman siguro.

Mugen: Bakit?

Pulsar: Naninibago sa kanyang paligid. Ang nakakatuwa pa roon, gabi naman siya kung umuwi galing sa trabaho pero naninibago siya kasi sa halip na galing sa gym, galing siya sa inuman kagabi.

Mugen: Anong bago dun? Diba lasenggero naman talaga siya kahit noon pa?

Pulsar: Malaki bro. Ang Joms natin noon ay hindi na ang Joms natin ngayon.

Darkstar: Por que?

Pulsar: Uy nanjan ka pala kaibigang Darkstar. Tatlo pala tayo dito sa likuran ng taxi. Anyway, hindi niyo ba napapansin, tuluyan na siyang nag lie-low sa lahat ng night activities niya?

Mugen: Bakit nga?

Pulsar: Malay. Basta ang alam ko, nagsasawa na siya.

Darkstar: Bakit nga, sagutin mo kami.

Pulsar: Alam ko ang tunay na sagot, pero sa akin na lang yun. Sabihin na lang natin na ngayong bahagi na siya ng gabi, nais naman niyang bumalik sa liwanag.

Darkstar: Labo mo talaga brad.

Mugen: Pansin ko tahimik ka ngayon Darkstar?

Darkstar: Hindi ako kailangan ni Joms eh, anong magiging silbi ko?

Mugen: Role model para sa mga malilibog na bata? Ha ha.

Darkstar: Gagu!

Pulsar: Nasaan na pala yung alaga mong si Kitsune?

Darkstar: Matagal ng wala. Ang hirap i-control nun. Kahit ako eh tinatabla. Napagkasunduan namin ni Joms na ibalik na siya sa kanyang pinanggalingan.

Mugen: Sa CB?

Darkstar: Yep, isinusumpa ko, ayaw ko na siyang makasama.

Pulsar: Sabi mo eh.

Habang binabagtas ng taxi ang kahabaan ng Shaw Boulevard, may mangilan-ngilang mga motorbike ang nag-cut sa right of way ng kanyang sinasakyang taxi.

Mugen: Iba na talaga ang mga bata ngayon no? Lakas ng loob, walang helmet bike pa rin ng bike.

Darkstar: Kaya naman kapag natepok, luwa pati utak.

Pulsar: Morbid mo pare! Tandaan mo, may isang panahon ring ganyan si Joms.

Mugen: Yun ba yung nagkaroon siya ng scooter noong third year high school siya?

Pulsar: Yep, pero gaya ng mga bata ngayon, mapusok rin si Joms noon. Lakas ng loob niya magbike kahit wala siyang lisensya at yung scooter na bigay ng dad niya eh smuggled galing Ilocos.

Darkstar: That's my boy. Minsan iniisip ko saan nanggaling ang tigas niya noon.

Mugen: Kanino pa edi sayo. Buti na lang at hindi siya buminggo no?

Pulsar: Anong hindi buminggo. Nahuli kaya siya ng Hagad! Tapos muntikan na siyang makulong kung hindi nakiusap yung kapitbahay nila at sinabing anak siya ng isang reporter. Malupit dun, hindi pa nadala itong si Joms.

Mugen: Eh ano itong nakapagpatigil sa kanya mag-scooter?

Pulsar: Hindi mo matandaan. Namatay yung bodyguard ng erpats niya kasi binangga ng L300 yung motorbike na sinasakyan nito tapos tumilapon siya sa isa pang sasakyan? Hayun patay.

Mugen: Honga no? I remember it now. Mula noon hindi na siya nagscooter ulit.

Pulsar: At yung scooter niya ay kinalawang na lang sa tapat ng bahay nila.

Darkstar: Sayang... ang scooter.

Pulsar: Natatandaan niyo ba noong natuto siyang magdrive dahil lamang sa isang arcade game sa Megamall? Lupit niya rin noon ah!

Mugen: Oo naman. Binigyan pa nga siya ng kotse ng dad niya. Yung bulok na Izuzu Gemini. Ha ha.

Pulsar: Pero huwag ka. Bago siya nagkaroon ng kotse noon, Isang taon rin niyang tinatakas yung FX nila tuwing madaling araw. Wala rin siya lisensya noong magdrive siya noon.

Darkstar: Ha ha. Pangarap nga niyang iakyat yung FX nila sa Antipolo noon, dun sa overlooking daw. Balak niyang isama yung tropa niyang madalas makitulog sa kanila. Senti nights sila magdamag habang pinagmamasdan ang kumukuti-kutitap na mga ilaw ng Metro Manila. Musta naman yun!

Mugen: At kilala ko kung sino ang binatang iyon. Sobrang gwaping kasi eh.

Pulsar: Ako rin naman eh. Kilala ko siya.

Darkstar: Kung alam ko lang na magiging PLU si Joms balang araw, dapat tinabla na namin siya noong madalas siyang mag-sleep over sa kwarto niya. Willing naman yata ang tropa niya eh.

Pulsar: Pero you know that it's not our way. Ikaw na rin ang nagsabi, let them make the first move.

Darkstar: Kaya nga wala akong pakielam noon eh. Straight pa si Joms nun. He he.

Mugen: Pero bakit natigil magdrive si Joms? Bakit hindi na siya humawak ulit ng manibela?

Pulsar: Naalala mo, nilalabas niya yung Gemini isang gabi, tapos natabig niya yung FX ng kapitbahay nila? Laki ng binayaran ng dad niya dahil dun sa maliit na yupi ha!

Mugen: Honga no? Haha. Takot niya talaga noon no? Paano wala kasing lisensya nagdri-drive ng sasakyan.

Pulsar: Tapos sinabon siya ng nanay niya ng todo todo. Sinabihan pa siyang arogante at mayabang. Hayun simula noon, hindi na siya nagdrive.

Darkstar: Sayang, pangarap pa naman niya makakita ng drag racing noon sa C5.

Mugen: Iba talaga ang nagagawa ng gabi kay Joms no? To think times have changed.

Darkstar: Malay natin, ito'y pansamantala lamang.

Pulsar: Ewan ko. Pero mas kuntento na ako sa ganito. Tumatanda na tayo eh.

Mugen: Ramdam mo na ba Pulsar?

Darkstar: Aga pa ng gabi. Bakit naman nag-aastang kwarenta si Joms?

Mugen: Naghahabol sa oras? Nagpapaka-hermit?

Pulsar: Nagpapakaspirituwal? Sabi niya he's looking for something sublime.

Darkstar: Nosebleed! Arte lang yun.

Pulsar: Hindi nga, nararamdaman ko na iba na ngayon.

Pulsar: Habang pinagmamasdan niya ang opposite lane ng kalsada na puro taxi lang at mangilan-ngilang jeep ang pumapasada...

Pulsar: At ang mga japorms na mga bata naman ay papunta pa lang sa kanilang party ala una ng madaling araw...

Pulsar: At ang mga binatilyong nagbibike ng walang helmet na nakikipagpustahan kay Kamatayan...

Pulsar: Alam niyang kelangan na niya mag-move on.

Darkstar: Drama naman.

Mugen: Naks ang senti ah!

Pulsar: Tingnan natin. Maaga pa ang taon. Pero matagal ko nang alam na hindi na siya ganoon ka thrilled mag night-out... hindi gaya dati.

Darkstar: Talaga lang ha. Hayaan mo sa next reincarnation ko, top na si Joms! Ha ha.

---

Ngunit bago pa may nakahirit kay Darkstar, biglang nagsalita si Joms upang nagbigay direksyon sa taxi driver.

"Manong sa kaliwa po... Para na ho diyan sa tabi..."

Matapos ang mahigit isang buwang hibernation. Si Joms ay umuwing may tama ng alak galing sa kanyang inuman.

Pero ang tingin niya sa gabi ay lubos na nag- iba na. Hindi gaya ng mga magdamag na minsang nakapiling niya sa kanyang kabataan.

Pupil

Once upon a time, there was a kid named Jose.

Jose was in elementary studying in St. Joseph's College. He was in Grade Six when this story happened. His classmates saw him as the weird kid who was too strange for their own understanding and his teachers thought that he was misunderstood. He was too detached and too strange as a student in their classes. The teachers had probably thought to leave him alone as long as he doesn't get into trouble with others.

The bullies would torment him during recess by shoving and pushing him out of the canteen lines. After all, he couldn't defend himself against them. The populars were even more cruel. Their myopic eyes couldn't see that he exist. For them, he was way too backward to even pose a threat to their quest for popularity. These populars left him alone. However, when it was time for them to look for someone they could make fun of or look down to in order to please their ego, Jose was their favorite target.

His so-called friends - who were mostly geeks and loners in his class left him alone as well. After all, who would forge bonds with someone who wore shabby uniform going to school, who doesn't cut his hair for half a year and who doesn't take a bath every day? Their only form of contact only happens when these kids would need his assistance. After the deal was done, it was back for him to his own little world

Yet Jose didn't took seriously what his classmates thought of him - except this one time when he created a commotion in the queue during the flag ceremony. As the story goes, one of his classmates complained that he stunk. Others went closer to validate what his classmate had just accused him. In the end, everyone was telling him "ang baho mo. lumayo ka sa amin yaak!!" Jose, in his silence flustered out of embarrassment. Even the pupils from the other section avoided him that morning.

Despite Jose's tormented existence at school, he found an unusual solace in his solitude. His class ends at 3 pm. The school bus that would take him home leaves at 3:30. He doesn't often take the first trip going home, except if he feels watching Peter Pan on Channel 2 at 4:30. Instead, he buries himself under piles of books in the school library and he learned a lot from his readings.

At an early age of 12, he was already aware of the Greek, Egyptian and Roman civilization, especially their warships. He knew the different Dinosaurs that walked the Earth millions of years ago. In fact, he was way too advanced that he knew the difference between the Jurassic and Cretaceous era during those Prehistoric times. In those days, nobody among his classmates would have known that such epoch in the planet's history exists. Who would have known, it wasn't discussed in class.

He had read books about local folklores written by Maximo Ramos. Later in his life, such books would remind him after his professor mentioned some titles during their discussion in class. At Grade Six, he was cataloging the different house plants and medicinal herbs that he collected from his wanderings. The books in the library provided him the names of those plants he had sneakily pulled out from someone else's pot.

After his stay in the library, he would sneak out of school and walk several blocks to commune with nature in a place called Little Banawe. His classmates gave the place such name, but its residents, who were mostly artists in different fields called the place Cathedral Heights. It was a small community at the back of Saint Luke's Hospital. Being secluded from the hustle and bustle of E. Rodriguez Avenue, the place had a certain feel of tranquility in it.

In Little Banawe, Jose would pull little plants to put them in plastic cups filled with water before transporting it home. In just over several months, his baby milk formula aluminum containers that he used as pots had doubled. He became the envy of housewives who were avid gardeners in his neighborhood. At the same time, doubts began to float whether he was an effeminate kid who has a future of becoming gay someday or a simple kid who simply finds passion in Gardening.

The question would be answered many years later.

---

As Jose's snapshots of life showed, he never really had a good elementary life. He was a loner, a kid who was bullied and was laughed behind his back because of his strangeness in attitude and how he saw life.

However, despite the bitter memories he had in elementary, he remembers those days with wonder and humility because it was in his most tranquil solitude that he learned to enjoy being alone. He found out that he doesn't need company to become a better person; that he only needs himself to see life in angles his classmates in those days had never seen.

That's why two days ago, he decided to pay homage to the school which he still considers his beginnings. Things have changed with the passing of time, but his respect and admiration to those who had shaped his childhood simply grew stronger.

"My name is Jose maam, I was your student back in 1994," he said to Miss Chua as he presents himself to his class adviser in Grade Six who is now a supervisor in the Filipino Department.

"Ah oo nga, natatandaan kita. Ikaw yung mabait at tahimik na estudyante ko na laging nakaupo sa harap ng klase? Kamusta ka na?" Miss Chua said a few seconds later, after she tried to recall the face of the man who suddenly showed up in front of her.

"Ok naman po ako. I was nearby St. Jo so I decided na rin to pay a visit."

After a few more exchange in pleasantries. Miss Chua introduced Jose to her colleagues who turned out to be his other teachers when he was still studying in elementary. Looking around and reminiscing his early days, he whispered to his now aging adviser,

"Things have changed maam, but I'm so glad you're still here..."

Ishi - Bashi

It was past lunch.

I went to his place to hang-out. We were friends since high school and at that time, both of us were exploring our newfound world in college. He was studying in a state university in Manila while I was staking my position in the Royal Pontifical University. That afternoon, he invited me to try something interesting for a teenager's restless mind; Something I would never thought I'd have an encounter with in my entire life. It was an epektos, which most of us would cringe to hear, the moment somebody say the magic word.

In his hand was a small sachet packed with tiny white granules that resembled like tiny crystals. This synthetic dust - destroyer of many lives, was acquired from shady sources surrounding his depressed neighborhood. I don't know how he was able to get one, but it was for all accounts, forbidden to possess. However during those days, it doesn't matter to me. Being an explorer in those early days, I thought, I'd rather have the experience rather than live a life without never feeling how it is to be under its spell. For me, it was an epitome of how to be cool.

Once I have the experience, I would be as astig as those around me.

He opened the sachet and in my ears, I hear a screeching sound of a siren coming from inside the contents. It was of course, just imaginary. The thought of trying something that might destroy me for life somewhat left a tinge of dread as he dashed the contents in a half-folded aluminum foil, which he was holding. The granules rolled until it settled in the middle of the foil. Then, he took a cylindrical object from his pocket and instructed me what to do with the paraphernalia in front of me.

"Susunugin ko to, tapos yung usok, yun ang hihigupin mo ha," he told me.

As a demonstration, he did the first shot. The white granules began to melt and the smoke from its remains went directly to the pipe, that he positioned just above the foil. After a few seconds, the inhaled smoke came out of his nose - the byproduct of the synthetic crystals which had already triggered a synaptic response from his brain.

After his first puff came my turn.

"Itutok mo yung toother sa foil. Wag ka magsasayang ha, P100 pesos isa niyan."

Hesitant at what will I do, I closed my eyes as the smoke began to accumulate inside my nostrils. Since I don't know how to smoke yet, The inhalation I did scattered some of the precious spirits around me. He was telling me to puff it, which I did. But unfortunately, so many granules were already wasted, that I wasn't able to capture its essence. We did several rounds until we have emptied out the contents of the sachet. By that time, my head was somewhat heavy, but I was still cool enough to be aware of my surroundings.

"Feel mo bro, nag-aalsa ang balat mo?" He commented.

It didn't take long for us to settle down. As a post-chill session, we went outside his house to hang-out elsewhere. I felt restless and in order to counter the effect of the white granules, I suggested that we go to Robinson's Place instead. He agreed to my suggestion since it would be my treat. Nevertheless, the restlessness did not stop there. We walked and talked from the mall to the edge of CCP - at the breakwater which used to be our favorite hang-out when watching the sun set in Manila Bay until it was utterly destroyed by a freak storm several years later.

The Ishi sessions never happened again. My friend was also able to save his future and declare himself abuse-free before the school year had ended. As for me, I found the confidence to match my peer's "coolness" through other means - which I later realized that would never be found in doing deviant activities. My other meaningful and life-changing experiences armed me with the "coolness" to get ahead of them before we graduated in college.

More than eight years later, I had encounters with other substances such as Tsongkii and Poppers, which I embraced as part of my life-exploration agenda. I could have taken the Happy Pill during the height of my clubber days in Libis and Timog if someone offered me one. Unfortunately, my stinginess prevented me from trying that substance, even if my late father had accused me many times of being addicted to that pill.

Looking back, I sometimes wonder whether such brush with substances had a long-term effect on me. Of course, I am confident that I am drug-free, and that I never became dependent from these substances.

But.

When I hear that people look up to me because of what my life is right now, it makes me wonder if they would still feel the same once I reveal that

Yeah...

Pulsars are Neutron stars that came from a collapsed stellar object, which secretly keeps a Blackhole within its tiny rotating beacon of light.

---

Ishi-Bashi
you make me fly
high above the
addicted sky...

- Ishi-Bashi,
Poem Book Five: Everything Begins At The End

Appleseed

The world is full of sadness and many people would take to the extremes just to have someone to talk to, to feel that they are needed and to have someone make them feel a sort of affection even if it comes in the form of a text message from some woman that they won't never hug or kiss or have sex with in their lives.

- lovingly yours, june 11, 2005

---

It was around mid-morning. The tricycle which I took from Shaw Boulevard, finally found the posh condominium where the company I was going to apply for work was located. Getting out of the trike, I composed a text message telling the interviewer that I was already heading towards the unit where their office was. Almost immediately, he replied and told me to wait for him. He was just doing something important and he would attend to me shortly after he is done with his errands.

When I reached the unit, I rang the doorbell several times but nobody opened the door for me. When I looked inside, everything was dark and bleak. There was a worn-out and dusty sofa set beside the door, beyond the living room was an empty dining table that separates the sala from the kitchen.

I stood at the front door for several minutes, until another guy showed up. He was sporting a long hair and a rugged get up. He introduced himself as an applicant, who's shift in a call center had just ended. We talked briefly about his work, since I was set to join Convergys after passing their English refresher training a week before.

Suddenly, a short, stout guy with eyeglasses appeared before us. Looking at his face, one can assume that he is still young - maybe in his mid-thirties. He was wearing a Lacoste shirt and a cream-colored pants. He was quite cool to talk with, preferring to enter a conversation without any formalities whatsoever. In fact, he got along easily with the other applicant who appeared very confident with the kind of job he was about to join.

The interviewer lead us to the dining table and introduced himself as Francis. He is the boss of the start-up company that is interested to hire us. As he gave a brief history of the company, he took a bundle of teen and adult magazines scattered in one of the chairs near him. He then pointed the several advertisements in those magazines looking for text mates. We read the advertisements from each of the magazines and when we were already getting an idea about the nature of work we will be doing, Francis told us that our job is to respond to incoming text messages in the computer pretending that we are the text mates of the users.

The job description made me pause for a few seconds, to swallow in one gulp what Francis explained to us.

"You mean we have to think and act like the girls or boys these users were texting? How's that possible?" I asked Francis.

"That's why we needed people who are innate actors and actresses; we need very open minded people here," he answered. "This is an adult-oriented business. Are you cool with it?"

I felt silent after his question. While further explaining what the company is all about, all I could think of is whether I am in the right career path, or whether the company I would be joining is legitimate or not.

At that moment, life presented me with two options: Being hired in Convergys was just days - if not weeks away. I could patiently wait for their call, or grab this opportunity immediately since I badly needed work and earnings during that time.

The other applicant, who felt a little restless during the interview asked things about benefits and all those job security crap. Since I understood that Francis' business was just starting, I expected to get only my basic salary for the meantime. Other benefits aside from that must wait.

Francis asked me to wait downstairs while he introduced the system to the other applicant. While waiting for them to return, I called a friend who might be interested to try my company - even if he takes it as a part-time endeavor. Unfortunately he was already well-entrenched at C-Cube during those days, so he just bid me good luck with my interview. When they returned, the other applicant can't hardly talk anymore. He appeared distant - not only to me but also to the boss as well. Within minutes, he informed us that he needed to leave. Nevertheless, he told Francis that he would seriously think about the offer.

The interviewer then asked me to come with him upstairs so that he could introduce me not only to the team, but also to the account that I will be handling - supposed I take the job.

He lead me into a small room with just five computers. There were three operators busy tapping their keyboard when I entered the floor. One is a girl with big chinita eyes, the other one is a guy and the last one, who was loud and flamboyant, is somewhere in-between. He first introduced me to the guy - who was just hired a week before. We would be working for the same account that's why it's important that we get along pretty well. Unlike the other two, who were more interested in chit-chatting with one another than noticing me, this long-haired guy was extremely quiet. He just nodded when Francis introduced us to one another.

The interviewer asked me to sit in front of the computer. He then opened the link to my account and typed a temporary access code so I could work on the system even if I'm just a trainee.

Within seconds, I was already responding to the incoming text keyword appearing on the computer screen.

"Hi, my name is Karla. Do you like to chat with me? How are you?" I slowly typed in the message box.

"Not bad Joms," Francis commended me. "Do you know that there are some applicants who would take ten minutes to write such simple introduction?"

Feeling satisfied with my answers, he left me to check on the other operators. From time to time, he would take a peek on my screen, read aloud my replies, then move on to return to the other operators - who at that time was having conflicts with their day offs. During those tense moments, I kept my cool. Remembering how good I've always been chatting with folks in MIrC. I told myself that I will get this job, no matter what.

Hours passed and I didn't even noticed that the operator's shift is about to end. Sensing that I have had enough exposure with the account. I told Francis that I have to leave.

On our way down, he gave me some few more briefings about the company, the system that I would be working and the environment that I will be exposed to. The details were all forgotten now.

Two years after it all happened.

Today,

From four operators in the morning shift alone, we now number around fifty. The three accounts, which the operators handled when I was interviewed had already grown to around ten. And the four operators that I have met before? The girl became my team leader, the other guy, still silent all these years remains with the company. The other one resigned, just when things were about to turn better.

I became the fourth longest-serving employee of the company, which has now grown so big, I could not keep count anymore of the new operators being hired almost every other week. Things may have been very different now, but whenever I get the chance to remember how I started with them,

And how I almost resigned too many times during the turbulent months of adjustment to the work environment.

I feel a sense of humility out of all the good and bad experiences I already shared with the company - now that I can proudly say that I have prospered in the kind of work I am doing.

And I'm glad that I stayed long enough to recount how simple things were, when the boss was the interviewer and sometimes the operator (when someone was absent) all at the same time.

Such things... will never happen again.